If I had Gumption

If I had the gumption, I would carry these around and pass them out to every cute guy I saw. With my number written on the back.

Source: stylewithbenefits.com via Bethany on Pinterest

Oscar Night

For Oscar night, I got red carpet ready and curled my hair. And curled it again. And again. And after five or six times, it looked like this and I was ready to go.

By the time I left the house, half of my hair was flat again, but I still felt ready for the red carpet, so I left it and when to go see my friends Aaron and Mathieu.

After a couple of hours, and a MAJOR coughing attack, I no longer looked red carpet ready. Rather, I looked more like a druggie going through major withdraw symptoms, and a little bit homeless. The medicine had worn off and the cough had come back with a vengeance! It was humiliating.

I looked like this:

Flat hair, puffy and red-rimmed eyes, a sore throat and it's too bad I didn't wait to take the picture before I wiped the mascara that had run down the sides of my cheeks from my eyes tearing up so bad. Good grief, what a mess!

I had Melissa call some friends that live down the street to give me a blessing, and then I climbed in my bed and tried to fall to sleep.

The coughing wouldn't let me rest entirely. Instead, I had to wake up every hour on the hour with a reminder that I had taken all the codeine in my possession and DayQuill just wasn't going to cut it.

Seven Reasons I Hate My Room

1. The miasma. Whether it is an antiquated Victorian belief or not, you tell when you are in a sick room. And I hate being in a sick room. Besides, I know that even though I'm covering my mouth when I cough, there are little seedy germs everywhere!
2. The fact that it isn't clean again. I haven't had the strength to carry up loads of laundry. I haven't had the inclination to fold and put away laundry, and so I am right back to where I started a week ago.
3. My bed. I've hated my bed from the very beginning. With two foam things on it, it is still the most uncomfortable bed I've had in my entire years living in Provo. There is no position, no spot, no anything that makes this bed comfortable except sheer exhaustion and drugs. And once those have worn off, you crawl out of bed feeling like an invalid. I can't tell if my muscles are sore from being sick or from just laying here in bed the whole time. Plus, there's no headboard, so every time I lean against the wall, the mattress goes sliding out of place.
4. There's no TV. Rather, there is a TV, but it doesn't work because it is so old. It just sits in the corner taunting me. I have officially caught up on hulu.com and netflix.com, and my head hurts too much to even think about writing. I'm bored. Plain and simple.
5. The temperature. Either it is too hot. Or it is too cold. I can't seem to balance it out. Well, I couldn't until about five seconds ago. Right now, my window is open about three inches and my hair is wet. I'm almost at perfect temperature right now.
6. No one can come visit me. I'm sick = quarantined = no visitors.
7. I have to be in here. Well, I guess I don't have to be. And I am about ready to go downstairs and sit on the couch for a bit. But I feel really bad. Because when I'm sick, I like to stay locked up in my room in order to make sure no one else gets sick. But, I can't take it anymore! Melissa just Lysoled the whole place, so I hope beyond hope that my disease does not contaminate anyone else.

Also, my hands are shaking right now. It's been really fun trying to type this out. I think it is low blood sugar since nothing sounds appetizing right now and I haven't eaten all day. Melissa has gone to go get me some soup and stuff for toast. She and Savannah have also opened their drug cabinet to me, and boy! am I grateful! It is great to have roommates that look out for you, even though when they were sick, I was fairly certain I kept my distance.

Now, I'm just going to go downstairs and enjoy the fresh smell of Lysol, the book I just got in the mail (for free!) and maybe eat some soup.

Being Sick

I usually do not like blog posts about people's health. But I can see why people do it. After all, when you are sick, you feel absolutely miserable and it is a call for help and for sympathy.

I never get sick. Not really. Or at least, that is what I like to tell myself. I get run-down and worn out and occasionally a sniffle or two will show up to tell me that my body does not appreciate being sleep deprived. However, every once and a great while, I get miserably sick.

While I am sure there were times before this, I remember fairly distinctly coming home from Church one Sunday and demanding that my mom pull over the car (just by the railroad track bridge that you have to go under when headed from Troy to the church building...) so I could cast up my accounts. I was humiliated. But of course, I was also running a terrible fever - which is fairly miraculous in and of itself, because my family seems to hardly ever get a fever when we are supposed to. Except Mark, who has gone to the hospital several times for a really high temperature. I remember laying on the couch with a cold compress on my head, wrapped tightly in blankets, watching The Cutting Edge while my mom ran to the store to get medicine. It is the only time I remember my mom shopping on Sunday.

I'm pretty sure I went to school the next day (third grade with Mrs. Lemkeuhl) and having to go home early because I was still feeling poorly. And I think I was out a week.

I remember being out of commission for pink eye. I got sick once on Christmas Eve and had to stay home from the live nativity (I think). And I definitely got sick one year on New Year's Eve. I remember we were down in Kentucky for that one, and on the drive back, I was curled up into a ball with the chills and about three blankets piled on me one minute, and then extreme heat flashes the next. Once I had strep throat - no fever, and I still maintained regular eating and drinking habits (I was told, however, to stay away from deep-throat kissing). I had a cough that lasted for 6 weeks to 6 months... I can't really remember. Two years ago, I'm fairly certain (through a neighborhood nurse's diagnosis) I had the piggy flu for three days.

And that's it. I really don't get that sick.

It's a good thing, too, because when I am sick, I am a complete baby. I want to disappear from all responsibilities and sit in my bed... No, scratch that. I would rather have someone pushing me around in a wheelchair as I wheeze and cough, looking at English roses and such, with a blanket over my legs and a shawl wrapped around my shoulders.

Because I really, really hate feeling like I am going to pass out and throw up at the same time while my chest rattles and my cough gives me a major headache. I hate the feeling of having been in bed all day because my muscles are sore, and I can't tell if it is because I am sick or because I've been in bed all day. I had the stuffiness. And the heat flashes that turn into chills. I don't like being uncomfortable, and there is nothing more uncomfortable than being sick.

Especially when you know you have to go to work in the morning. On the plus side, liquid medicine does not usually bother me. You know people who hate cherry flavored candy because it tastes like cough syrup? I love cherry flavored candy. The kind that I bought for my chest cold is not the best tasting, but it certainly isn't as bad as all that. It's sitting here on my nightstand, just waiting for three more hours to pass so I can take my next dosage.

Cheese Breath

One must always be wary of what he is doing with blinds wide open and facing another apartment building. Why? Because one never does know if there are three girls sitting on the couch watching.

For instance, if you have a bit of a cheese addiction, you might consider closing your blinds so that no one sees how you polish off the rest of the shredded cheese, down to every shred left in the bag - to the point where you turn the bag inside out, wear it like a glove and lick the bag clean.

If you are going to pick bitty morsels off your pizza while - the girls might assume - preheating the oven, with the pizza close to your face and your pincers armed and ready, you might consider doing that in a private place.

Sure, you might think that being alone in your kitchen is in fact, a private place.... however, if you leave the blinds open, you might be victim to some very classic neighborhood peeping.

So listen, Cheese Breath, if before you put your pizza in the oven, you are going to stick your face right in that pizza and lick up all the extra shredded cheese you just added to it, you might remember to shut the blinds.

Because if you leave yourself vulnerably exposed to the neighborhood, there are going to be three girls watching you from their window - laughing hysterically and being grossed out by your dairy obsession.

And a little bit irritated when they wait the necessary 15 minutes for you to remove your pizza, only to have you take it directly out of your oven, and out of viewing range.

Drunken Racquetball

If you ever see two drunk people playing racquetball...

And you know they are drunk by the way they can't walk straight, how bad their hand-eye coordination is, how they miss every swing they take, how they hit the ball straight back into their face and then collapse in fits of laughter to the point where they can't stand anymore...

Think to yourself that they are not, perhaps, drunk at all. But rather playing with the racket in the other hand. Two lefties playing with their rackets in the right hand has the appearance of drunken behavior, but really... both girls are completely sober.

After all, how would they have ever made it through the hurricane-like, winter weather storm afterward if they were intoxicated?

Cardiac Partiac - Valentine's Day Celebration

Some people think that if you are single, you should probably be doing a lot of this:

But some of us didn't like that idea... so we decided to throw a party. For future reference, I should not be allowed to plan parties. They get expensive and about five cake mixes too many, and suddenly your house is overrun with cupcakes and frosting and melted chocolate chips. And some white chocolate chips that didn't melt. In my head, I see extravagant get togethers. And even though, rationally, I know that I won't be able to pull it off, and not everyone that I invited is going to show up... I still have this desire to over-prepare.

Still, Cardiac Partiac was born, and we were on a mission to bring it to fruition. It took more money, planning and time than we probably anticipated, but in the end - even though it in no way resembled a posh NYC cocktail party, something that you would see in a swanky loft with twinkle lights and non-alcoholic beverages and really, really good music - it was rather successful.

Melissa, Megan and Me

We did manage to have a room with the Wii and food in it. And by food, I mean anything chock full of sugar: M&Ms, lemon cheesecake, Cowtails, Conversation Hearts, Fire Balls, Oreos and chocolate-dipped Oreos, and mini candy bars, and... CUPCAKES. Lots and lots and lots of cupcakes.

Maybe... half of all the sweets and treats we had!

Anyway, it was a lot of fun. Next time, we'll have to make Melissa come shopping with us to make sure I do not buy six boxes of cake mix. Regardless, Single Awareness Day did not drive any of us to actually burying our "sorrows" in booze or anything like that. We danced the night away and celebrated our freedom.

The Repentance Test

Another strange dream for me this morning: So, we were at my family reunion in Kentucky. We kept calling it Wesley Woods, but it wasn't the Wesley Woods that I've been going to for 25 years, it was a lot different. Colin, Chloe and me were talking about all the sins that we've committed around a table, in the dark. There were windows everywhere, and I was pretty aware of the rest of my family playing cards and dribbling basketballs in the background. 

Me, Colin and Chloe

We were talking about these "sins" that we've committed in very vague terms, so I have no idea why we all needed to repent, just that we did and for individual reasons.

 It was dark and windy, and the wind picked up and turned into a major storm. There were flashes of lightning and loud booms of thunder. We decided to leave the area... and by area, I mean, the Cullen-like building (lots of metal paneling, glass windows, it was very modern-looking) we were staying in with the rest of my family. 

  More thunder and lightening. As we were walking, we walked into tons and tons of trees, a dark, creepy forest and continued to talk about what we were going to do about the Church.

This hooded figure approaches us and tells us that he knows all about our sins and if we would come with him, he would take us to Salvation.

It was a pretty shady deal, because we all knew that wasn't how repentance worked and we weren't sure if we wanted to repent, so we declined the invite. 

  The place grows darker and red and hazy, and we find out that the hooded man worked for the devil and was trying to drag us down to hell, but since we didn't go, he was angry.  Think Satan stamping his foot at Moses and causing a huge scene. The earth opened up, and we saw the depths of Hell, and we got to walk away from it all.

 

We continued on our quest, or our wandering or whatever and we come across this tree that has a hollowed how area with a weird tea pot, labeled with things like, "Forgiveness" and "Peace" and obviously openly inviting anyone who found it to drink it. Like Alice in Wonderland, it was screaming, "Drink Me." 

 We figured that if we drank the potion-tea, we would be completely forgiven of our sins and we start debating because again, we know that this isn't the way we were taught to repent, but it seems real convenient to be able to just take a drink of this liquid beverage and hope that it is considered true repentance.Chloe decides that she is going to drink it, but Colin and I were still trying to decide whether or not we even wanted to repent. Colin was especially thinking that he might not be ready to go to church.

  Suddenly, we are flocked by these witches, three of them, and they are very anxious that we take a drink of the tea. Once they call it tea for sure, we're more than suspicious. Because we don't drink tea, and they are really pushing us. Plus, we all know that you can't drink tea and be forgiven of your sins. So we put down the saucers and cups, and walk until we find a padded room.

 

It's still raining and lightning, and so we sit and we continued to talk about things. Chloe scampered off, and then it was Colin and me and we were just talking really seriously. But  I could only hear the sound of the rain pounding on the roof.

 The door opens, and my Aunt Bonnie is looking for us wondering why we left, and telling us that it's time for our Sunday devotional (that we have every year at Wesley Woods).

Colin and I decide that we are going to come clean, and that we want to repent the proper way. So we stand up and open the door right when a HUGE flash of lightning hits the same time that thunder rings loud and I woke up.

Quiz...dumb

1. What color are your socks right now? I'm not wearing socks... I avoid wearing socks. The last time I wore socks... I was working out with Megan and Melissa.

2.What are you listening to right now? The Valentine's Day Cardiac Partiac playlist James and I put together.

3.What was the last thing you ate? Dark Chocolate covered oreo.

4.Can you drive a stick shift? I'm sure that if I ever had the opportunity to try, I'd figure it out really quick.

5. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My mom. And when she picked up she said, "I was just laughing at you." Thanks, Mom! :D

6. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Um, I stole this. Dumb question.

7. How old are you today? 25 years 2 months and some random days.

8. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? Basketball or football. But I rarely catch a game if it is on TV.

9. What is your favorite drink? Ice cold, cold water. With ice.

10. Have you ever dyed your hair? I do not dye my hair. I color my hair. And yes, it needs it again...badly. I'm thinking a little more blonde this time.

11. Favorite food? It's a tie between Thai Yellow Curry and Fish Tacos from Rubios. Or maybe a burrito from Cafe Rio.... Or maybe it's just sweet potatoes. It is really hard to choose.

12. What is the last movie you watched? In the theater? GNOMEO AND JULIET! And it was really great. A DVD? Easy A. It was dumb. Or on TV? The Hallmark channel.

13. Favorite day of the year? Anytime that I am surrounded by family and friends and the weather is good.

14. How do you vent? My blog. To my mom. To my journal. And to anyone/everyone who will listen. By lots of writing and talking.

15. What was your favorite toy as a child? I loved Barbies. I loved making up their love stories, and designing their house all over my bedroom (we had all the furniture for the dollhouse, but no house.)

16. What is your favorite season? Late summer and the fall - up until the first snow.

17. Cherries or Blueberries? Depends on what for? Cherry cheesecake flavored. Blueberries in my yogurt and cereal.

[SECTION ABOVE COMPLETED LAST NIGHT]

21. Living situation? I live with some girls. In a condo/apartment-type thing that is borderline awesome, and closer to ghetto.


22. When was the last time you cried? A couple of weeks ago, in the shower.


23. What is on the floor of your bathroom right now? My pajamas and the extension cord that allows me to have my radio in the bathroom when I'm showering. And the rugs, of course.

24. What did you do last night? Made, like, 65 cupcakes and dipped Oreos (that turned out to be a disaster...sort of.)


25. What are you most afraid of? I'm not afraid of anything...


26. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburgers? Anything but plain.


27. Favorite dog breed? Teacup piglets.


28 .Favorite day of the week? Saturday, of course. Sometimes Thursdays.


29. How many states/countries have you lived in? Kentucky to Washington to Ohio to Utah.

30. Diamonds or pearls? Depends on the outfit. I love both. I own neither.

Valentine's Day Misunderstanding

I got out of the shower this morning and noticed the following text message:

"SHELLI ARMSTRONG! I'm going to kill you! V-day lap dance?! Really?"

Immediately my mind is consumed with merriment. A lap dance! For my roommate, Melissa! This has got to be the greatest prank of all time. And she's at work, which makes it all the more delicious. I'm flattered that she thinks that I would be the one to orchestrate something like that.

It reminded me a lot like the time Colin texted me angrily about the phone calls he'd been receiving asking about his baby chicks. Someone had posted in the classifieds that he had baby chicks for sale, just in time for Easter. And he thought it was me!

I laughed and laughed (for both instances). I'm not a prankster, but I love that I'm being accused as one. People think that I am cleverer than I really am. More cunning, more sly, more creative... All traits that I admire in someone (er...) but I do not possess a single one. I could never come up with something like this on my own, but I endorse it heartily.

So I'm laughing, and texting my dad and others who would enjoy such a good joke. And the fact that I was being blamed for it. All while maintaining my innocence with Melissa. She's threatening to double my utility bill next month, to punch me until I bleed - that's on top of already threatening my death at her hands! But I insist I had nothing to do with it. I have no idea what she's talking about.

And then she sends me another text, "It was totally your writing on the check..."

Wait, what?

And suddenly all my mirth fizzles. And then rekindles. Because I had written Melissa a check for utilities yesterday, and in the FOR line, I had put, "Valentine's lap dance."

So, yes. It was me. I was so disappointed that Melissa hadn't received her Valentine's day lap dance - at work.

She only got paid for one.

*Of course, when you think about what a lap dance entails, I lose all appeal for anyone to ever be on the receiving - or giving - end. As my dad asked, "How many women want some strange man shaking himself up in her face/space?" And with that disgusting image, I am certain that I am not one of those women. I would never inflict said shaking on any of my friends (except maybe, Esther) and I hope to never had anything like that done to me.

The Lamp on My Nightstand

Most the time when you fall, or do something ridiculously embarrassing, the first reaction is to look around and make sure nobody saw you.

You're relieved, at first, if there is no one around and your stumble or blatant fall on your back, lay sprawling on the ground for twenty seconds before you come to fall wasn't actually witnessed by someone. But sometimes, when you literally flew in the air for a good five seconds, you think, "Dang! Someone should have been here to witness that!"

And sometimes it isn't falling at all.

Last night as I was getting comfortable in my bed, my pillow fell back behind my bed, pulling on the cord to the lamp that sits on my nightstand. The cord is stretched pretty tight, and so the pillow pulled it right down off the nightstand, and into my forehead.

It hurt for a second. And I looked around to make sure no one saw. And then I felt like a bigger fool, because of course no one saw, I was laying in my bed, alone. There was a pretty loud crash, and I was more surprised that no one made a comment about the noise. And even more surprised that the bulb didn't go out on the lamp. My forehead stung a bit, but there was nothing I could do about that, so I re-situated the lamp, pulled up the pillows from behind my bed (yes, there was more than one) and went to sleep.

When I woke up this morning, there was...blood. Just a bit, and crusted on my forehead! I couldn't for the life of me figure out how it had gotten there. I knew that I hadn't been picking my face the night before - there wasn't even anything on my forehead to pick! - And then I remembered that stupid lamp.

The thing actually cut me! And made me bleed!

How was no one there to witness it?

Is this a story that is meant for a blog post? Probably not. But really, when your lamp attacks you in the middle of the night, I really feel like someone should be alerted.

Grandma Stories

I love my grandma. And my great-grandma.

I do not love that my grandma does not know how to work a phone. I swear the women was born in 1737 instead of 1937, as she does not know how to communicate at all.

Regardless, I love my grandma.

I mentioned the thong story in my previous post, and I thought I would expound. My grandma and her two sisters go swimming every morning as a way to exercise. They are well-known at the community center where they have a membership. The woman at the front desk recognizes them when they walk in and pulls out their bowl of marbles which they use to keep track of the number of laps that they do (they are up to 22 laps every morning).

The dressing room at the community center is not a place meant for modest. Sure, there are dressing stalls for women to change in and out of their bathing suits, but that doesn't mean anything, as the women stand naked in the tree of life showers, in the sauna or next to their lockers.

One morning, my grandma, Barb and Jo (her sisters) walked in from the pool and a lady was changing next to her locker. She was wearing... her thong. When Jo noticed, she tapped the lady on the bum and said, "Hey, you're missing half your pants!" And then walked to her own locker, leaving my grandma and Barb standing there with their mouths hanging open.

The lady - thank goodness - laughed and said something passe, and then left. She came back a few days later and told Barb that she really got a good laugh and happily told the story to several people. To which Barb said, "That wasn't me! That was her," and pointed to Jo, wondering why she always looks like the troublemaker while my grandma and Jo always look like the innocents.

Another day, Jo was wearing her bathing suit that is wearing thin. The skirt is so droopy, it goes down to her knees. Now, my grandma takes her swimming very seriously. She has flippers and webbed-gloves in order to help her work out. This particular morning, her flippers and Jo's skirt got tangled up! Which was really rather ridiculous...

But yesterday (Monday), I had stayed over so I could go swimming before coming back down to Provo to work. They had told me all these stories, and as we were walking towards the pool, the lifeguard said to Jo, "Hey, you're not wearing your evening gown today!"

To which we all responded with rowdy laughter.

I love going swimming with my grandma. I love how popular they are at the gym and how people always notice when they bring me - a stranger - with the group.

Now, my great-grandma, sits in her little rocking chair and watches a movie or two before going to bed. I've never seen her watch anything other than what is on TCM. I don't blame her, though, because TCM plays some really quality movies. I did not know that they play silent movies, but apparently they do, because when we rolled in on Sunday, that is what my great-grandma was watching. I was immediately drawn in, and then laughed when grandma said, "I don't remember them having such silly movies back when I was a girl."

Because she did watch the silent films when they had the piano down at the bottom of the theater going while the movie played. They are a bit dramatic, and definitely silly, but probably no more silly than what we watch now. I really liked sitting there watching with her, though, and then listening to her explain the narration to my grandma about how "he said this" and then she "said that." When my grandma asked how she knew what they were saying, my great-grandma reminded us that, "You have to use your imagination," and I really loved that.

Flash Trip to Kuna

I drove up this weekend with my grandma to visit my uncle and his family in Kuna, Idaho. I got off work late on Friday, spent the night at my grandma's (where I went to bed at 10:30 p.m.!) and then we woke up early to hit the road Saturday morning.

A few things about the trip up.

1) My grandma talks a lot. She has always owned up to being gabby, and I must admit that I possess a similar trait. But I'm pretty sure that out of the five hours we drove up there, she was not talking for maybe, half an hour of that. It made the drive go by really fast, and even if I did hear the thong story* for a third time, I didn't mind.

2) We drove my grandma's truck. Honestly, I knew that it was going to be expensive to fill that sucker up, but I don't really trust my car to drive up to Boise anymore, and so I didn't want to offer to take my car, and my grandma doesn't like to drive her blue car. (I know, "blue" is not a type of car. I just have no idea what that thing is...) So I didn't offer to help pay for gas, even though I know that my grandparents do not have a lot of extra cash to be spending on trips and such. What I did do, is offer to pay for our lunch on the way there and on the way back. I sort of expected resistance, as that is what happens when you are around your grandparents, but my grandma happily let me pay and it made me feel like an actual adult instead of a child. It was a cool feeling, to know that she thinks of me on kind of the same level.

3) My grandma also let me drive. This demonstrated that she trusted me, because I know she thinks I drive like a maniac. Not because she has ever been in the car when I'm driving like a maniac, but simply because - ready? - I take less time to get up to her house than it takes her to get to mine. I'm pretty sure that she thinks I drive way too fast, and way too crazy. But she let me get back behind the wheel, and I don't think I scared her once. Or maybe, just once.... but I was just getting used to the brakes.

When we got to Allen's, it was great to see the kids. I love going up there, and I really love those kids. They are so fun and silly and they compliment me like no other! They give me hugs and want to tell me stories and even Tess, who is the youngest, snuggled up next to me as we watched a movie on the couch. Before she did that though, we went off looking for a inexpensive, fun activity. The weather was practically spring-like, so we knew that it had to be outside.

We ended up at a dam somewhere outside of Boise. This led to a lot of "dam" jokes, that made the kids blush and stammer and say, "Daaaad!" They couldn't believe what they were hearing, and I was completely in awe of their young innocence. Was I really like that as a child? I know I was, I used to physically abuse my friends when they said swear words.

Why is it that throwing rocks into a body of water is so therapeutic? I don't know, but we certainly entertained ourselves for several hours.

We stopped on the other side of the dam because after Allen blamed everyone for stepping in poop, he realized that it was him, and so he needed to clean off his shoes before he could make the drive back home. It was getting cold, but it was really pretty. Once we were "de-pooped" we made it back into town.

 Afterwards, we did dinner and a movie at home, and I was in bed again by 10:40 p.m.! It was a miracle. We woke up and made it to 9:00 a.m. church, and then Tanner was ordained a teacher - which was the whole excuse for our trip. I can't believe that kid is 14, and even more so, I can't believe how much he has grown even since the last time I saw him! He's almost as tall as me and he is already taller than his mom and grandma.

After church, I tried to get grandma to stick around, but she was anxious to get on the road and back to grandpa. She is always very nervous about the driving conditions, be it traffic, weather, or road conditions, she is ready to have the driving over with before it even begins.

It was a fun, but too quick, trip - and it really feels like I didn't even go. I'm just glad I took pictures as evidence that I did get up there this weekend!

Forty

• The rains (in Noah's day) fell for 40 days and nights (Genesis 7:4).
• Israel ate Manna for 40 years (Exodus 16:35).
• Moses was with God in the mount, 40 days and nights (Exodus 24:18).
• Moses was again with God 40 days and 40 nights (Exodus 34:28).
• Moses led Israel from Egypt at age 80 (2 times 40), and after 40 years in the wilderness, died at 120 (3 times 40; Deuteronomy 34:7).
• The spies searched the land of Canaan for 40 days (Numbers 13:25).
• Therefore, God made Israel wander for 40 years (Numbers 14:33-34).
• 40 stripes was the maximum whipping penalty (Deuteronomy 25:3).
• God allowed the land to rest for 40 years (Judges 3:11).
• God again allowed the land to rest for 40 years (Judges 5:31).
• God again allowed the land to rest for 40 years (Judges 8:28).
• Abdon (a judge in Israel) had 40 sons (Judges 12:14).
• Israel did evil; God gave them to an enemy for 40 years (Judges 13:1).
• Eli judged Israel for 40 years (1 Samuel 4:18).
• Goliath presented himself to Israel for 40 days (1 Samuel 17:16).
• Saul reigned for 40 years (Acts 13:21).
• Ishbosheth (Saul's son) was 40 when he began reign (2 Samuel 2:10).
• David reigned over Israel for 40 years (2 Samuel 5:4, 1 Kings 2:11).
• The holy place of the temple was 40 cubits long (1 Kings 6:17).
• 40 baths (measurement) was size of lavers in Temple (1 Kings 7:38).
• The sockets of silver are in groups of 40 (Exodus 26:19 & 21).
• Solomon reigned same length as his father; 40 years (1 Kings 11:42).
• Elijah had one meal that gave him strength 40 days (1 Kings 19:8).
• Ezekiel bore the iniquity of the house of Judah for 40 days (Ezekiel 4:6).
• Jehoash (Joash) reigned 40 years in Jerusalem (2 Kings 12:1).
• Egypt to be laid desolate for 40 years (Ezekiel 29:11-12).
• Ezekiel's (symbolic) temple is 40 cubits long (Ezekiel 41:2).
• The courts in Ezekiel's temple were 40 cubits long (Ezra 46:22).
• God gave Nineveh 40 days to repent (Jonah 3:4).
• Jesus fasted 40 days and nights (Matthew 4:2).
• Jesus was tempted 40 days (Luke 4:2, Mark 1:13).
• Jesus remained on earth 40 days after resurrection (Acts 1:3).
• Women are pregnant for 40 weeks (time of testing). 
• http://www.ecclesia.org/truth/40.html

Apparently, you do not have to be pregnant to go through the 40 days of testing. But I think I have been very patient for these past 40 days and 40 nights. And I highly doubt that there is any special significance to this particular 40 days of testing...

Of course, it could be worse, it could be 40 weeks.

But I really don't think my patience will last that long.

Happy Birthday A-Mong-Yong!

I just wanted to wish my sister and her adorable not-quite-a-baby-anymore baby a happy birthday! I love these two to death, and I only wish I were there to celebrate with them.

Kelsie is in her terrible twos, but she's so dang funny about it, that who can begrudge her this milestone? Of course, I live over 1,500 miles away, and so all I get to hear are cute stories about her and her cute little voice in the background whenever I call.

I do not often hear Amy's cute little voice in the background. She is not in her terrible twos, but she is dealing with Edison (community college) and all the stress that comes with being a student and working mother.

But I just wanted to let them both know how much I love them! I hope you have a great day, Amy, and that you and Kelsie party it up all day - even if you are barricaded in the house because of the freakish amount of ice out there.

Brrrrr....