Cardboard, Crafts, and Birds

After making Brenden's awesome nightstand, we had a few extra pieces of cardboard lying around the house. I was bored one evening and really wanted to make something. My desire to create most often leaves me stranded without an idea of what to create. This usually translates to me being fidgety for a bit, looking through my art and craft supplies cabinet (which is severely lacking, by the way), browsing online for any inspiration, and then getting stuck online reading home decorating blogs or stupid articles on CRACKED.com and/or Facebook stalking. However, this evening was different! A large piece of cardboard was calling me. I pulled out the only bottles of acrylic paint I currently owned, all in traditional baby pastel colors, from a project Brenden and I did a little over a month ago. I mixed some colors to make a nice creamy yellow and then started painting.

I had no idea what I was going to paint. I just knew I had a paintbrush in hand and brown cardboard on the table. I suppose I also knew I wanted a yellow cream background on whatever it was going to be. I'm not quite sure what happened but I got some water on my pseudo-canvas and quickly made a watery streak down the center of my piece of cardboard. Oops. I wasn't too perturbed, though, because I still didn't really know what it was I was trying to paint. Once the water dried, I painted a huge green stripe over the watery streak. I thought the green was gross and then painted a huge black stripe over the green. And suddenly, INSPIRATION!

I sketched out a giant bird shape and painted it white. I determined it look unfinished and boring so I looked around for more inspiration. I grabbed the newspaper I was using to prevent a mess from my painting and starting cutting it up. I glued pieces of the newspaper onto my bird shape, painted it white again, and then used a black paint pen to draw the bird's feathers. And there it was. Cute random bird project. Made with cardboard.

It doesn't have a permanent home yet, so it's just propped up against the wall next to Brenden's model cars in our computer room.

Sometimes I pretend the bird is sitting on a giant cable.
Other times I pretend it is just a really tiny bird.

Cardboard bird, model car, and Lord of the Rings Elven Helmet shadow.
Yes, that's right. We are awesome.
With my self-confidence renewed by my unlikely and easy success with the cardboard bird project, I sought a new challenge. For those craftily inclined, I'm sure this little rolled fabric flower would pose no threat. But for me, having never wielded a hot glue gun without supervision and having very limited knowledge about fabric in general, it was a little more difficult than I thought it would be. I thought by the end of it I would have a cute little flower not this thing:

My sad attempt at making a cute crafty flower.

This is what it was supposed to look like except with my blue polka dot fabric. If you want to try making this flower, THIS is the tutorial I used. I'm sure yours will turn out better than mine did.
I had no real purpose in making this flower except that I was bored while Brenden was out home teaching. (Apparently, my muse is boredom.) I had some fabric from a project Brenden and I were planning on doing about two years ago and put on hold until one of us learned how to sew and I was spending too much time online so after finding that flower tutorial I decided I would try it. I pulled out my brand new glue gun (what have I been doing all my life without a glue gun?) and got to work. My "flower" didn't even try to look like a flower. Brenden laughed at it when I showed it to him. Maybe I used the wrong fabric, I probably pulled the fabric too tight in its rolls, and sometimes I globbed too much glue onto the fabric-- it just didn't turn out right. Now I'm trying to think of what I can do with it. It's really small so I thought about attaching it to a hair pin but when I put the "flower" in my hair and looked in the mirror, it looked like I just had a ball of rolled up fabric stuck in my hair. That's really what it looks like (and is)-- a ball of rolled up fabric, perhaps neatly rolled up but rolled up nonetheless and looking nothing like a flower. Maybe I'll have better luck next time. With a completely different project.

And so this morning, I pulled out my sketchbook and charcoal pencils. I am a little more comfortable with these items than fabric and glue guns, even though I go through phases of drawing and not drawing. Right now it seems I'm on the end part of my not drawing phase. (As indicated by my desire to draw this morning.) Also, I was so annoyed with my failed flower, I needed to somehow redeem myself. It was such an easy flower project! How did it go wrong?!

I'm currently formulating an idea for a friend's birthday present and this drawing was a little preparation for that upcoming project.

Can you tell what kind of bird it is? The proportions are a little off. The head's a bit too big for the rest of the body and the body is a little too plump but not too bad for my first bird drawing, right?

In the process of drawing. My bird is missing an eye.

With some color! It's supposed to a Baltimore Oriole.

I love birds. The Biology 100 class I took at BYU was taught by an ornithology professor who was so enthusiastic about birds, you couldn't not love them after taking his class. I learned to recognize certain bird calls. I was able to identify birds by their size, feather colors and calls while I was hiking. I would often stop walking on my way to my classes to try to find the bird whose call I had just heard so loudly above me. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to take flight and soar high above cities and forests, farmland and beaches. I loved watching barn swallows flit around the parking lot at my old apartment complex, their forked tail feathers behind them. And California quails with their loud "CHI-CA-GO" calls were fun to listen to. Oh, I love birds. What beautiful creatures.

This is about Hawaii except it isn't really about Hawaii.

This post is long overdue. It's been about a month now since I came back from Hawaii and I still haven't posted about it. I just haven't really known what to say about the trip. It was great. Tiring. Fun. Exhausting. Beautiful. Stressful. Relaxing. Hectic. Simple. Eye-opening. Momentous. See what I mean? How am I even going to explain any of that? Maybe I should just end this post now and hope those adjectives suffice.

No, no, no. This trip deserves more than eleven adjectives.

Last month, I met my mom and sister at Intercontinental Airport in Houston to accompany them to Honolulu (my Aunt Ernie also met up with us later in Honolulu.) Stef was going to start college at Brigham Young University- Hawaii in about a week. Most of Stefanie's friends had already started classes at their respective schools in Texas. She was the one to see all of them go while she waited patiently for September 7th when we were to leave for Hawaii. That day had come and her eyes were puffy from her own goodbyes. It was time to go.

Once we landed in Honolulu, we met up with one of my mom's good friends, Beth, at the car rental place near the airport. Though we were exhausted (I had left my house in Georgia around 3am and had been flying for ten hours), it was only about noon in Hawaii and we had the rest of the day ahead of us, packed with things to do. First item on the list was Stefanie's job orientation on campus in Laie, about an hour's drive from the airport which was perfect since the orientation started in, oh, about an hour. We sped off to Laie, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the lush, green mountains, amazed by the trees, the deep red dirt (that stains white shirts really well), and then the water. Oh that water. The water was so blue and it stretched out as far as we could see. We saw mountains juxtaposed with the beach and the many green trees and plants and I realized how Hawaii was the combination of all the places I'd lived except perfected-- Galveston's warm beaches, Utah's towering mountains, the abundant trees of both Seattle and Athens. Hawaii was a combination of all the things I loved. And then I kicked myself for deciding to go to BYU in Provo when I could've gone to BYU-Hawaii. Blah, blah, yeah, my life would be completely different right now if I'd gone there instead. But look!

I mean, seriously.
Hawaii's beautiful. There's no doubt. I could write several posts about the beauty of that place and I could write several posts about all the things we did there. But those aren't the things I wanted to focus on, which is a little funny, by the way, considering that in anticipation of this trip all I could think about was how beautiful Hawaii was and of all the fun things I was planning on doing there and just how excited I was to be there. It was Hawaii! People dream about going there. Ever since my last trip to Oahu, I certainly did. I was finally going back and it was going to be an awesome vacation.

My expectations were set much too high for the purpose of our trip. We were taking Stef to college. We weren't on a vacation. And during the time it took me to realize this, I was grumpy and selfish. It didn't help that I really wasn't getting enough sleep but even that isn't a good enough excuse for my initial attitude. Here's a shout out to my mom and Stef for tolerating me while I was being such a bum. Thanks guys!

When I stopped being a brat for the most part (hey, I was still sleep-deprived) and started looking beyond myself, I saw a few things I hadn't been paying attention to. Like the fact that my sister was in Hawaii to start FREAKING COLLEGE. Wasn't she just starting high school, like yesterday? I heard this stuff all the time growing up. Still do. "I can't believe how much you've grown!" "You were just a baby when I last saw you." "I remember when you were this high." And then the person holds her hand up to her knee or her waist to indicate just how small you were and then grabs your cheek between her fingers and makes such a weird face at you while calling you cute that you have to remind yourself to not run away because this is one of your mom's oldest friends and she's just trying to be nice. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.

Well, I was on the other side of that exchange this time, minus the cheek grabbing. Stefanie was starting college? When did she graduate high school? When did she go to high school? She finished middle school already? But I remember when she watched Gullah Gullah Island and Blue's Clues and Little Bear and she had that doll I gave her for a present, Lucy, I think she named her, and she had that Barbie workbook she never worked on even though I pretended to be her teacher. I remember picking her up out of her crib and racing outside one day because my dad burned potatoes on the stove and I thought the house was going to burn down. I remember when she said "lellow" instead of "yellow" and "hangabooger" instead of "hamburger." I remember her obsession with Pocahontas. I remember her being too small for her school jumpers and the cute bob haircut she had and the big bows she wore in her hair. I remember jumping on our bed and turning our desk lamp so the light could shine on our wall and pretending we were on TV. And then I also remember those times I ignored her. I remember when siblings do that thing that siblings sometimes do and I hurt her feelings. And we grew apart because I pushed her away. But she never let go. And I'm so glad she didn't. Because I remember those times when she was this little *gestures to knee* and I don't want that to be all that I remember.

So there we were, in Hawaii, at the nearest Walmart (about a 45 minute drive from campus) buying stuff for her dorm, picking out school supplies, grabbing snacks off the shelves. And I just thought, was it really four years ago when Stef and the rest of my family were doing the same thing for me? Stefanie was an adult now. No question about it. And she was starting college. I watched her for the week and a half I was there. I saw the initial excitement and then the trepidation as the date of my mom's and my departure grew nearer. You could see it in her face. She couldn't wait to get going but wasn't quite ready to leave. She was excited but she was also scared and understandably so. Moving across an ocean to live in a place she had never even seen before? That girl is crazy. Crazy awesome, that is. Crazy courageous. Crazy amazing. Or maybe just amazing, no crazy. Stefanie is amazing. Yes, that sounds right.

While the Hawaiian sunsets were painted with every beautiful color you could imagine and the weather was perfect and the fruit was ripe and sweet and delicious and the people were friendly, it was my sister who amazed me the most while I was in Hawaii. She made friends easily, her bubbly personality burst through her nervousness, she went to work at the Polynesian Cultural Center, she went to her classes. I watched her and thought about how much she'd grown in those years I was away at college. I walked her around the campus to all of her classrooms the day before school started (I guess I read maps better than she can) and thought about when we were little and I would hold her hand while waiting for our mom to pick us up after school. I didn't need to hold her hand anymore. That realization alone made my brain go haywire. And I wanted to take her back to Texas. I wanted her to go to school in Georgia where she could live with me and Brenden. And I suddenly really, really didn't want to let go. Stefanie is the baby of our family. She was the one we always protected. I saved her from the nonexistent potato house fire! But I guess babies grow up and they learn how to pronounce "yellow" and "hamburger" and they let their hair grow and they switch from jumpers to skirts and they drive cars and sometimes they move away and go to college so they can keep growing.

Hawaii is fertile ground for Stef. She is going to grow so much there. She has already grown so much there. I'm happy I got to help her get settled in. I'm happy I got to help her figure out her classes and schedule. I'm happy I got to be there for her first day of college. I'm happy I matured enough to realize what a remarkable little sister and amazing friend I have in her.

Hey Stef! Guess what! I think you're AWESOME!

A few pictures of us through the years:

Dancing (or something like it)

College visiting (I was really excited.)

Girls camping

Pink posing

And a few pictures of us from Hawaii:

Dole Plantation Visiting

Luau-ing

More dancing (or something like it)

Waikiki Beach-ing

Posing while other tourists were stopping and staring

Ladies of the Family-ing

And here's a list of a few of my favorite things about that trip (besides being with my mom and sister):

• Staying in Haleiwa on Hawaii's North Shore. The town itself reminded me a bit of the Philippines and that made me very happy.
• The Polynesian Cultural Center
• The Ala Moana Mall Food Court where 10 of the 16 restaurants served Asian or Hawaiian food: 4 Japanese, 2 Chinese, 1 Vietnamese, 1 Korean, 1 Hawaiian, and 1 Thai. Yes, I counted.
• Driving down the Likelike Highway
• Visiting Pearl Harbor
• Fruit stands. Farmer's markets. Fresh fruit every day all the time.
• Light rain every day and the accompanying rainbows
• Wearing my hair down and not feeling weird about having such long hair.
• The beach, duh.

(Some more of my Hawaii photos are in my Facebook album.)

A Haircut (finally!)

Well.

We determined it was time to end our little hair growing experiment. Brenden's beard is still growing strong but we have finally chopped off a good portion of the hair on top of his head. We had lots of friendly reminders that Brenden's hair was getting a bit longer than we usually let it. A big reason it took us so long to cut his hair was my reluctance to hold a pair of scissors to his head. I have a tendency to be a bit of a perfectionist and I was SO SCARED I was going to ruin Brenden's hair and perhaps take out someone's eye in the process, that I simply let it grow. I pretended the longer hair went well with his beard. (Not saying it didn't, honey!) Also, during those rare moments I had worked up enough courage to think about cutting his hair and I'd asked Brenden if he wanted a haircut, he usually didn't. He had homework he needed to work on. Or we just wanted to read books. Or watch a movie. Or save an eyeball. And so his hair grew. And it grew and it grew and it grew. To make a long story short, it didn't stop growing. The hair on the back of his head was now long enough to tuck into the top of his nice collared shirts and we both knew it was inevitable. There was no way we were going to be able to hold out until Thanksgiving break when his mom or grandmother could cut his hair nicely. I was going to cut his hair or die trying.

We went in search of the haircutting kit Grandma and Grandpa Binns had given us as a gift. We grabbed a chair from our computer table and set it down in the kitchen. I wrapped our fancy haircutting apron around Brenden and then I cut his hair.

The End.

Oh. Just kidding. It was definitely not that simple. Back to where I put the apron on Brenden. I proceeded to walk around him, holding the nice sharp scissors in my hand, worrying out loud, muttering, "I don't know what to do. I have no idea what I'm doing. Oh my goodness, I'm going to ruin your hair. Your hair is going to be awful. I am so sorry." This process took about fifteen or so minutes. Brenden initially tried to comfort me telling me I could do it but his words of encouragement grew to agitation the longer I circled him while he sweated under the hot apron. "Just make it shorter. We can shave it off if we need to." With this option now available to me, I took heart and began snipping away. Snip snip snip. Snip. Some more snipping. There were quite a few breaks while I was cutting his hair where I repeated my pre-haircutting speech. Brenden informed me I was not helping him feel good about his haircut and I informed him he needed to be a bit more encouraging towards me because frankly, "I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING." Also, I'm the one wielding the scissors.

We got through it somehow. It took me an hour and a half. Really. It did. When Brenden took off the apron, the thing was covered in his sweat. I couldn't stand to touch it. So gross. And I began to feel a little sympathy for my poor husband sitting with that apron on him for an hour and a half sweating like he had just run a marathon in Houston in the middle of August. But then I remembered that it was me who had to take full responsibility if his hair looked like total crap and I felt completely justified in having him sit in that chair for so long. I mean, I wanted his hair to look good. It wasn't my fault the apron was a heater. Geez.

Anyway, the Before and After pictures, of course:

What I didn't tell you was that somewhere in that haircut Brenden also became Batman.

His hair is still a little longer than it usually is when he gets a haircut but he says he likes it. I trust that Brenden's telling the truth but I think part of the reason he likes it is because if we keep it the way it is, he doesn't have to wear the apron of death again immediately. I'm fine with that. I like to know what I'm doing most of the time and when I hold those scissors all of my self-assuring thoughts fly out of my brain and take cover under Brenden's apron-- completely out of sight and apparently very warm.

I don't think it turned out too bad. In fact, I think I did okay. The shorter hair definitely balances with the beard better at least.

DIY Fun!

Since Brenden and I moved into our new place we have been short a single nightstand. This wasn't a problem at our old, closet-sized apartment when the only logical place for our bed was shoved up into a corner against the wall. We only needed one nightstand. We didn't have a bedroom furniture set so we kinda pieced things together as we collected them. That's how most of our house is right now- a conglomeration of cheap particle board, real wood, and plastic. It's a one-of-a-kind collection from IKEA, thrift stores, and family donations. We once read a woman's motto in a home decorating magazine, "My only rule is that there are no rules." Out of necessity, we have adopted this as our practice and have done so with pride.
See Exhibit A. (Click image for enlarged view.)

This couch was a lovely find at our local Goodwill. It's a good size, sturdy, and comfy. We'll probably get a slipcover for it eventually, but right now Brenden really likes its look. And I must admit, it's definitely unique.

Anyway, back to our nightstand dilemma. We have been to several thrift stores in the area, checked out craigslist a few times, and gone to IKEA. We've looked up garage sales and even planned our routes but when that Saturday morning comes, we haven't quite had it in us to get out of bed before 7am. (This has happened three times so far.) And so we have remained nightstand-less. It's a terrible place to be.

We were hoping to find something along the lines of this:

Or even just some simply shelving on it like this one:

But this past Saturday after a full day of driving around town to several thrift stores and finding absolutely nothing useful, Brenden had a brilliant idea.

I thought it was a great idea but apparently Brenden was joking. I insisted we do it and after sketching out some plans, he was convinced. And so we did it.

Cardboard Nightstand

For this project, all you need are:
- two boxes (one large and one small that will fit snugly into the larger one)
- box cutter
- packing tape
- pencil (OPTIONAL)

The actual process of making this nightstand is pretty self-explanatory so I'll just skip the tedious details. Here's a picture of our work in progress:

We considered keeping the box flaps for the smaller box to make a cabinet but we couldn't figure out a way to keep the flaps closed. So we cut them off.

And here's a picture of the finished product (Paris lamp and all!):

Look at that craftsmanship! We made sure to keep some of the original details of the boxes we used, like the wording on the side indicating "THIS SIDE UP."

(You may have noticed in the above picture our lack of a headboard. Another DIY project in the future? Perhaps.)

"Everybody, I know you can believe in yourself!"

Tomorrow I'm taking the GRE. I'm feeling uneasy about it, which is strange considering how much I actually enjoy standardized testing. No, you didn't read that wrong. I enjoy standardized testing. Favorite week of school in elementary and middle school (omitting Catholic Schools' Week, of course, oh you poor souls who never experienced that joy) was the week we took our standardized tests. We were allowed to have snacks in our classrooms and there was no homework! All week long! And in seventh grade I volunteered to take the ACT for some Duke TIP thing. But then for some reason, once I got to high school, we no longer had specific standardized testing, no TAKS or whatever. I'm not really sure why. Instead, my beloved standardized tests came by taking the PSAT freshman through junior year. And then, just for fun, I took the SAT my sophomore year with a friend who was taking it for college applications. Because I just couldn't get enough of my standardized testing. I ended up taking the SAT a total of three times and the ACT once (unless you count that time in seventh grade.)

And then the testing stopped. At least until about a month and a half ago when I decided I was going to give myself a month to prepare for the GRE (there was no way I was going to study while I was in Hawaii for a week and a half.) Right after I signed up for the exam Brenden and I headed out to Barnes and Noble, seeing as we now had a good excuse to spend money there (I always feel guilty buying new books knowing I have unread novels, memoirs, poetry, drama lining my shelves already), and bought a GRE prep book. I've had great fun with this prep book- learning clever ways to outsmart ETS (the evil testmakers of the GRE) and, you know, figuring out more of those standardized test questions. I even signed up for a free practice test with Kaplan which I took on the computer, simulating the actual test day procedures (though getting the program to work on the computer took awhile which frustrated me to no end. I actually gave up and took a shower to get ready to go shopping instead while Brenden fixed the problem and got it up and working. What a good husband supporting me in my love of standardized tests.) I did fairly well on the practice exam and was so pleased with my score I didn't study at all the next week. Overconfidence, much? BAD. I did pick up the prep book again, I mean, come on! I paid twenty bucks for this soon-to-be-absolutely-useless-to-me practice book, I needed to at least get my money's worth out of it. I studied some more. Did a little better on the book's practice exam. I'll probably review some more stuff tomorrow and then I'll take the test at 1pm.

And then it will be over. And I won't have to worry about it anymore. And I will be FREE of the GRE! (I said that in a sing-song voice in my head, so that's how you should read it. I wasn't quite sure how else to convey those directions except by explicitly stating them.)

Thank you for letting me rant. This was a post to calm my nerves and remember that, HEY! I CAN DO THIS! And because you actually read through all of that, you deserve something nice. So here's a cute boy who's inspired me and given me confidence in myself. Enjoy!

Yeah...

I've been meaning to make this for awhile now. Is this totally puerile or what?
(go go GRE vocab!)
edited 10/5/11: A better aligned gif file! Thanks Alan!

Basically, Brenden's Best Birthday Bash and other things

(I just realized I never did write about moving into our new place even though I hinted I would. I'll get to it once I can take some pictures of our house that won't reveal what slobs we can be.)

Okay, I was really going for alliteration in the title. Originally it was just "Brenden's Birthday" and I was like HEY! LOOK TWO "B's" IN A ROW. I CAN MAKE THIS EVEN MORE AWESOME. So I did. But in the process I may have lied. I don't actually know if this was Brenden's best birthday bash or not. Considering it was not really a "birthday bash" since we didn't have an actual party, I would suggest that it was not Basically, Brenden's Best Birthday Bash. Ugh, and now I'm a liar and all for the sake of alliteration fun!

On August 30th, Brenden was able to celebrate living 21 years and begin his 22nd year of life. Is that a totally awkward way of wording it? Explained like a normal person, Brenden turned 22 on August 30th. Yay! Way to not die yet! Here's to another year of not dying! (We aim high here in the McQuay household.)

To celebrate the beginning of Brenden's 22nd year of life, we slept in. And then we ate kolaches for breakfast. Brenden and I came up with a very simple and delicious recipe involving frozen dinner rolls, Lil Smokies sausages, and cheddar cheese. After our late breakfast, Brenden went off to school. I went to Wal-Mart to purchase wrapping paper and ribbon to wrap the presents I had been hiding in my closet.

Brenden and I aren't big on surprises. Sometimes this can be a little sad but usually I'm totally fine with it. I didn't have to ask Brenden what he wanted for his birthday. This summer he took up reading graphic novels/comic books, helped along by a few summer blockbusters (Thor, X-Men First Class, Green Lantern, Captain America.) So he got four new graphic novels for his birthday. That he picked out. And ordered. Oh dear, now everyone knows I'm a liar AND a lazy bum. I did keep it a secret when they arrived in the mail and then hid them (in plain sight!) in my closet. When Brenden started getting concerned that his books hadn't yet arrived, I reassured him that they had indeed arrived and they were simply in hiding. It was fun watching him search all over the house for his books, when they were literally sitting on the rather empty floor of my closet whose doors are always open.

Because I hadn't given tons of thought to Brenden's birthday present, I determined I needed to at least put forth some effort into his birthday card. And guys, I made an awesome birthday card. Would you like to know why it is awesome? It's because Hal Jordan is trying to get Brenden's attention so he can tell him Happy Birthday. And it's not every day that a superhero tells you happy birthday. In fact, it's not even every birthday that a superhero tells you happy birthday.

But even more awesome than the fact that a super hero is wishing Brenden a happy birthday is the fact that I drew and colored this sucker. I did copy an image I saw on the internet so yeah I can't claim the creativity, but I can claim those drawing and coloring skills. (And I might be a little more proud of myself than I should be.) Brenden needed a cool card because he's a cool kid *ahem* cool twenty-two year old adult.

Here's a picture of him with his new comic books!

Yeah, he's a kid at heart (though I don't think any kid should read V for Vendetta.) And I love that about him. He was very happy to get his new comic books. Is it totally irresponsible of me to provide my husband with four new graphic novels as soon as he begins his first semester of graduate school? Or totally awesome?

Knowing that one of Brenden's favorite restaurants is Pappadeux's, I searched for a place with similar menu offerings here in Athens and I found the coolest little place to go for his birthday dinner. It's called NONA for New Orleans 'N Athens. They're located on Broad Street which is the main street that goes through Downtown Athens. Downtown Athens reminds me a lot of The Strand in Downtown Galveston- cute shops, hip coffee joints, fancy and unique little restaurants. It's a lot of fun.

Brenden and I had crab cakes for an appetizer. I had their Creole Pork Jambalaya for my entree and Brenden got a delicious Blackened Catch of the Day (I can't remember what fish it was) with Crawfish Etouffee topping. For dessert, Brenden got Creme Brulee and we also split a root beer float. It was an exciting dinner and we got to try a new root beer (Abita)! That's always fun.

Quick sidenote: Brenden and I love root beer. Every time we go to a grocery store, we check their soda aisle to see if they have any new root beer for us. We've had the regulars: Barq's, A&W, Mug, IBC and we've had some others not available in every grocery store: Dad's, Jone's, Frostie, Hank's, Sprecher's, Stewart's, Triple X, Boylan's, Bundaberg's, Natural Brew, Virgil's, Thomas Kemper, Henry Weinhard's, and Howie's. I'm still looking around for Hires which used to be really popular but for some reason has gone into hiding. I've had it before but Brenden's never had it and I need to share the goodness that is Hires Root Beer.

Brenden's birthday was pretty low-key but that's how we are. And while I joke about him not dying yet, I am truly grateful for the life he lives and willingly shares with me. He's a wonderful, loving, and sweet young man. I'm excited to celebrate more birthdays with him.

In other news, something else we celebrated that week was our first NFL game. Say what? Yeah, we got free tickets to an NFL game. Yeah, okay, it was a pre-season game. And yeah, our team lost. But it was an exciting experience nonetheless! The game was between the Atlanta Falcons and the Baltimore Ravens. Remember the movie The Blindside? Well, Michael Oher plays for the Baltimore Ravens, so we were secretly rooting for them too.

The game was held at the Georgia Dome, which was also home to some of the events of the 1996 Summer Olympics (the Olympic games that gave me the dreams of being a gymnast.) Hence, this fabulously awkward statue:

I really couldn't help myself. I had to take a picture of the statue from an awkward angle. The statue was just begging for me to do it.

Brenden and I don't really have any game day clothes so we wore two of the few red shirts we own- mine a basic polo, Brenden's a t-shirt from Youth Conference. We took this picture quite a bit before the game started so there aren't many people in the stands yet.

And we took this picture after we started losing the game and ability to score anymore which is why there aren't many people in the stands here either.

At the game there were concession stands. At these concessions stands there was funnel cake. This funnel cake was $6 and that one dollar difference between $6 and $5 broke my heart. You see, I really, REALLY wanted funnel cake but I told myself that there was no way I was going to spend more than $5 for it (I didn't really want to spend $5 on it either but I really wanted funnel cake.) Even so, I begged Brenden to buy me funnel cake and he insisted we need not spend $6 on cake fried in a pot of oil. But I still begged and begged. Because how does cake fried in oil not sound absolutely delicious? So he promised me we would make our own later that week. And I told him I wanted some right then and there. And I continued to beg. And then he ignored my pleas for the rest of the game. And I was so sad.
BUT!
We did end up making our own funnel cake later that week! And it was DELICIOUS! Also it was fun. Way more fun than paying $6 for a single cake would've been, I bet. I don't actually know though because I didn't do it.

I made the one on the left, Brenden's is on the right. He didn't have quite as much luck with the pastry bag as I did.

We made a lot of funnel cake. And we ate a lot of funnel cake.

Yeah, I think it was better than paying $6 at the football game. Yum!

Updates!

A few things have happened since our last post here:
- Brenden's birthday
- A trip to Hawaii (Me, my mom and my sister)
- My birthday
- Evette's birthday
- Finally getting our second bedroom in order (it's only been, what, two months now?)
- General Conference

Maybe someday I'll write about them.