But then, on February 7, 2010, all chaos erupted in my husband's family, when this event struck us by complete surprise
That morning will forever be burned into our memories, when we lost a father and husband. That week of the funeral was a blur, and yet it felt like a time period of 5 years and was never going to end. And since that time, life has still been turned upside down. Murphy's Law has become a permanent visitor is our house. And to be honest, it really sucks. A lot. School is lame, work is dumb, people are stupid, cars are money-suckers, etc. etc. etc.
And this weekend, I have decided that I'm done. I'm done being mad. I'm done just flying by the seat of my pants. I'm done. My next step, as Craig is always telling me, is to find the good. Remember to laugh. Smile. Joke. Why not hyperventilate in laughter? What's wrong with that? =) In having this mentality, I've searched my memory and my photos and have found quite a few gems. So here we go-enjoy =) I have.
On May 15, 2009, Craig and I were married in the Salt Lake City Temple for Time and All Eternity. That evening, we had our reception. Now, I LOVED my dress. Unfortunately, bending at the waist was not a very easy thing to do while wearing it. While at the reception, I gave my husband a hug (and for some reason had a very strange look on my face haha), which our photographer caught on camera...which meant she also snapped a classic Lindsay Moment of Klutziness
Because of how much the dress weighed...and because of how I took a step at just the right time...
...that the momentum totally made me fall to the ground. BUT, remember how I couldn't really bend at the waist? Yeah...So I went down like a board. Craig tried to catch me, but it went by too quickly. Luckily, my brother saw and came to help Craig lift me up...again like a board. My brother and Craig still will not let me live this down. "Only you, Lindz." I'd like to see them wear a outfit like that and then fall...we'll see how well they do! Maybe you had to be there...but those who saw it were laughing almost as hard as I was.
So then Craig and I went on our Honeymoon to Cancun. The last full day there, we were out in the pools that the resort had. At about 5 p.m. we were laying out on some of the pool-side benches. One side of my face was getting super warm because the sun was just starting to set. So I wanted to move the bench. Simple enough. Craig asked if I wanted help...no...I'm just moving a bench...nothing difficult. I mean, I knew that these benches were wood, not plastic, so they were heavier than most benches, but I'd already moved one earlier and it wasn't a big deal. So I got up to pull the bench toward me at an angle...and another Lindsay Moment was established. Like I said, I knew they were pretty heavy, so I went to go pull the bench with some force...which look the leg of the bench right into my 4th toe on my left foot...pretty much jamming the toenail inside. Yeah, I screamed. Craig-Mr. Doctor-went to go grab my toe with his hand to keep the blood from going everywhere and to start applying pressure...wasn't working too well. I had some swimming shorts on the ground that I grabbed to wrap around my toe. Craig said he'd go return the towels (which you were allowed one swimming towel a day) and ask the guy for a band-aid. So he ran off and I sat there like an idiot with a toe that hurt like crazy. He came back...but then ran past me to where the boardwalk-type thing was and was looking down on the beach. He came back and I was like "What the heck? What are you doing?" He said that the guy told him he didn't have a band-aid, but that the life-guards on the beach would. Ok, we were there a week-NEVER did we see a Life-guard on the beach, but Craig went to check just to be sure. Ok, pretty sure the bleeding is getting worse and I'm getting even more upset...and yet Craig and I are laughing through this whole thing. So then Craig gives me a piggy back ride into the lobby so that we can ask the front desk if THEY have something. They told Craig we'd have to ask the Concierge desk. Holy Hannah has no one ever heard of a band-aid or gauze in Cancun!? So Craig left me where I was and ran over to the Concierge desk...who told him he thinks that drug stores carry them....? Really? Seriously? So Craig is done and says we'll just doctor it up in our room. So we get up to our room and he sets me in the tub. The tub had really wide sides so you could sit on them. So I had my back to the wall and my feet in the tub...make sense? We had a bunch of bottles of water that we got every day for free that we planned to use, plus Craig had an alcohol swab left over in his backpack from his CPR class, and I had some cotton balls. Talk about make-shift first-aid. This however, was my toe-
And it looked about 10-times worse in person-even Craig said it was pretty nasty. So anyway, I'm sitting there on the side of the tub and my husband is scrubbing my toe. Ouch. But wait!
Me: "Craig! I think I have a band-aid in my wallet!"
Craig: "Where's your wallet?"
Me: "In my blue purse."
Craig: "K, I'll get it. Stay Here."
.......................................................
Craig: "Lindz, you're wallet's not in here."
Me: "What? Yes it is-it has to be!"
Craig: "...Well...it's not."
Ok, so I had two blue bags that I took to Cancun. One duffle-type bag that I used as a carry-on on the plane, and a purse that went over my head&shoulder. It was in my purse. Not my bag. But Craig thought I meant the duffle....not the right one....so there's the misunderstanding. But at that point, since I was still sitting on the tub and couldn't see him, I had no idea that that's what was going on. So now I'm thinking, "Oh my heck, I've lost my wallet! What if it was stolen? I've got all my cards in there!........." This is where the Lindsay Moment gets so much worse. Being me, I did not listen to my husband who had told me to "stay there," and I got up out of the tub to see what I could do to help.....but my feet were soaking wet from the water we had poured on my toe. So when all my weight went onto the TILE floor of the bathroom, they immediately flew out from under me. I then hit my head on the door frame, scratched my arm all the way down from the wrist to my elbow, and landed right on my right hip. So now I'm on the floor, laughing and crying all over again. Craig's head suddenly appears above me and all I hear is "WHY DID YOU MOVE?!" *Sigh* What a memory. After it had all settled down and we were able to stop the bleeding, I realized I wouldn't be able to paint my toes that Summer. Not cool. Craig laughed. I did not find it very funny. I lost the toe-nail about a month later after hitting my foot on a chair in our home. It was the ugliest toe I'd seen in a long time. BUT, we still laugh about it today.
6 weeks after my poor toe went through all of this, we were up with Craig's family at the family cabin in the mountains where yet another stupid Lindsay Moment happened. Tire-swing + nephew = fun times. And when said nephew finds a bug he'd rather go chase, said tire-swing still is a fun time. So I'm on the swing and Craig's pushing me, and I moved my feet in such a way that when I swung forward, my feet were dug into the ground. K-I had freaking REAL tennis shoes on. Not slip ons. Not sandals. Real shoes that were laced up. Pretty sure once my feet were pushed into the ground way hard, something definately did not feel right. Craig took off my shoe...and there, on the same foot that had the ugly toe, was my big toe-nail, ripped half-way off and standing straight up. Yieks. We had to rip it off which hurt even more....nice. Nice Lindsay. Way. To. Go.
And THEN! a few weeks later, Craig and I were out doing yard work in our back-yard. I was too busy trying to kill the disgusting nasty gross massive freaking HOBO SPIDER (NOT COOL) that I swear was out to get me...and didn't realize I was so close to the retaining wall...and fell off of it. Wasn't hurt at all...except maybe my pride just a little. Craig laughed for quite a while.
Ohhhhh...and then my finger. These are pictures taken a week or so after the fact. What was I doing that caused me to cut off my fingerprint, you may ask? Why, I was opening up a bag of brownie mix. Duh. .....I still don't know. I only caused a hole in the bag, I didn't even slice the bag open like normal. I do know that my first instinct was to run to the bathroom (I don't know why...because I was in the kitchen with the kitchen sink...). Craig came in and put a washcloth and pressure on it since it was making it a big mess....we then sat in an after hours Clinic (it being Sunday evening and all....), only to tell us there really wasn't anything they could do and I might loose that part of my finger... Luckily it decided to stay attached (after much coaxing from Craig and I over the next 2-3 weeks)....but I still have no feeling in that part of my finger.... hahaha I still can't believe I did that cutting open a bag of BROWNIE MIX....that I didn't even cut open! AH! Frustrating.
And then we moved houses. After having our car broken into and everything stolen, mixed with the fact that winter was coming and our place didn't really have heat...we started looking for other places. We moved on the first big snow-storm of the year (smart...not) which landed on a Saturday. I got up Sunday morning to take a shower for Church and found this (even though this picture wasn't taken that morning...)
When we went to look at our now 2-bedroom house to rent, the landlord was fixing some stuff in the bathroom, so we didn't spend much time there....didn't even THINK to look at the shower-head. K so I'm 5 ft 4. That shower head hits me mid-forehead! Craig is 6 ft 4. Pretty sure I cracked up that morning and I realized how awkward this shower was going to be for him. The running joke in my family is that at least he's got a really clean belly-button. What's worse though, when you're super tired but have to get up for work or school or whatnot, that freaking shower-head hurts to hit your head on...pretty sure. The bathroom was made for a midget.
For those of you that REALLY know me, know that I LOVE hot chocolate. I will drink it alllll winter long...or whenever I suddenly have the craving for it... =) Our first week in the house, we had our microwave sitting on top of our cooler (don't know if this was necessarily safe but...oh well). I was making two cups of hot chocolate (but couldn't find my hot chocolate maker which was definitely one of the best gifts we got at our wedding). So I had heated one up in the microwave and was taking the non-hot cup of water off the top of the microwave to put in...which I totally spilled all over me. ALLLLLL over me, the floor, everywhere. And Craig's first reaction? Laugh, grab the camera to prove it actually happened later down the road, and laugh some more.... =)
And then there's our car. Craig and I are lucky enough to have two cars. This green one is one that I drive. One morning, right after finals, I went to go out to my car so that I could go to work. BUT...there was freezing rain that fell the day before, which was a day that I didn't have work-so my car sat there...in the freezing rain...for almost 2 days..... The first picture is what the handle SHOULD look like...the second picture is what the driver side DOES look like after I broke it off. I didn't even pull hard! I didn't even know the door was frozen shut until after I was holding half a door handle in my hand!! Lukily it was a day that Craig would have had school had the semester not just ended, so he was home. I went in, woke him up, and he just laughed. We tried so hard to get the door open, but only made it worse. We eventually gave up and he took me to work. I came home to see the dome-light of my car on. So we'd opened one of the doors enough to turn the light on...but not enough to slip even a hand in? Nice. And since it had been warm that day, the back driver-side door had no problem opening, and I turned the light off. Not just shut the door, but turned the light OFF. The next morning was Friday, which means Craig works in Salt Lake and leaves at 7 AM. Since I don't have to be up until 7:30, I asked Craig to make sure I could open the door to my car. He came back in, said yes, the doors open just fine. At 8:30, I went out to get into my car, opened the door from the back driver's side, put the key in, and got nothing. I had a dead battery. GREAT. I don't know my neighbors, any family lives at least 20 minutes away, and I have to be at work in 20 minutes with all the traffic... So I ran over to my neighbor's, felt like an idiot, and her and I tried to get the car to start with a little portable battery she had in the back of her car. Having never jumped a car...nor had my neighbor, it took us a bit but we finally figured it out. She told me to take the portable battery just in case, though I should be fine. So I went to work, went through the day, at 6:00 pm went out to my car, and saw the freaking dome-light on. Pretty sure I turned that light off! So I opened the door from the back driver's side, put the key in, and got nothing. My battery had died again. Thankful that my neighbor had let me borrow the portable battery, I tried to jump the car on my own. Did not work so well. I had to have my co-worker come out and help...oh by the way it was snowing hard-core again. Dumb car. Still can't open it from the outside, only the inside (since whenI broke the handle off, I broke the rod inside that lifts some stupid lever...so I have to open the back door to open the front door). Craig tried to fix it one night....which is another story in and of it self. Needless to say the comment of "I'm about to start chucking tools into the field!!!" left us in puddles of laughter on the floor (which will only make since to my parents haha), even though we were both fuming earlier that night. Dumb car. Funny situation.
And let's not forget when I ripped a pair of jeans in an American Eagle dressing room. Even though we cancelled the plans we had for my birthday since it was very close to the time the funeral, Craig took me shopping at the Gateway in Salt Lake. I picked up some shirts and 2 different styles of jeans-The Slim Boot, and the Artist. So I went into the dressing room and tried on the Slim Boot, but they were too long so the lady was going to get a shorter pair. While she was doing that, I went to try on the Artist style. I didn't even get them all the way on when all of the sudden they BUSTED apart down the inside of the left leg. Not just ripped-they BUSTED open. No ripping sound-just a POP! And it wasn't even along the inseam, it was about 1 cm away from the inseam...just in the fabric. I started to panic. hahahaha I'm still laughing about it, even though I was laughing and panicking when it happened. I didn't know what to do-I felt like I was going to be in such trouble! I texted Craig that I ripped the pants open! He texted back asked how bad, to which I replied down the leg. Haha he thought I meant I tripped and ripped the bottom a little. No. It room from the crotch to the knee. I quickly put the too-long Slim Boot back on so I could open the door. I waved him over to show him. Hahahahahahaha I thouht his eyes were going to pop out of his head! "I didn't think you meant you tore them apart!!!" After panicking for a little while longer, I finally told the fitting room attendant. She laughed like crazy too. She just took them and said there had to have been a defect. Craig laughed that I was worrying and freaking out about having to buy a $40 pair of jeans that couldn't be worn. "What else would I be worried about?!" Craig laughed and said "I thought you were going to be worried you were too fat for the jeans....which you weren't!" Hahah *sigh* joy. I'm just mad I didn't take a picture before I gave them back to the fitting room attendant.
And Just recently, I earned the nickname "inky" at work. Great. So I wear an apron at work to hold pens and keys and my phone...all that jazz. Long story short, I had a pen explode in my apron without my knowledge. It had been leaking for at LEAST an hour...
It was on the front, along the inseam, on the back. I don't know how, but it was everywhere. So then I tried to get it out. I know hairspray takes pen out of jeans. When that didn't work, I tried Spray and Wash. And got this...
It got worse. Much worse. Turned very purple. And yet, the ink was still being stubborn. So I let it soak in soapy water for about an 1 1/2 - 2 hours. My mom told me to try scrubbing detergent directly into the ink before washing the pants. So I did....and ended up with this...
I had scrubbed so much that it was wearing a hole...it was still pretty purple...and the ink was STILL there....needless to say I had to throw the pants away.
My last memory happened only days after the pen-explosion. That Saturday, they had a truck come into work early and didn't have the normal unloaders there to unload. So I got picked for my department. Yes, me. I know, it surprised me too. I got put in charge of everything for my department, plus any food. About an hour into it (which, by the way, is a very difficult job), some banana peppers, which came in a glass bottle, had broken. I, however, did not realize this when I picked up the pack. So it leaked freaking banana pepper juice ALLLLLL down my other pair of pants. I smelt like banana peppers and vinegar the rest of the day. It took 3 washes to get the smell out. My new nickname is now "Peppers.'
I know if you've made it to the bottom of this post you're probably glad to see that it's over. I know it's so long, but once I started searching, I couldn't stop laughing. And then I'd think of something else and I'd be sent into laughing fits all over again. Life's too short to waste it pouting over all the bad things. Yes, sometimes Life's not fair. It's not fair Steve was taken from his family on such short notice. It's not fair our car decided to cost us MORE money than it's worth. It's not fair my hours are being cut at work because they don't understand the new system wont work. But just being things IN life sucks, doesn't mean life ITSELF sucks. So I'm finding my Lindsay Moments. And I'm loving every minute of it.
Steve Allen
December 1952-February 2010
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