A Few Crazy Days

And here I thought I would be bored once all of our stuff had been moved out.

Tuesday night was another restless night for me. I kept thinking about all the stuff I needed to grab before the packers came. Yes, I'm ridiculous. So what was I doing at 8:15 am when the packers showed up? That's right--supergluing my fingers together. And not just a few fingers, either. Out of a possible 10 fingers (including thumbs), I successfully bonded 7 of them together. Needless to say, the container I was trying to fix is currently traveling to Maryland still unfixed.

I was a little nervous when the packers showed up at the door because there were only two of them, and they were girls. I can say this because I am a girl--girls tend to be much less efficient at packing than boys are. However, I failed to realize the positive side until later--girls are a LOT nicer to your stuff than boys are. And, to be fair, they were done by 2:30 pm. By the way, if anyone needs a moving company, we REALLY liked Mayflower.

That night Jonny and I went to our friends' house for pumpkin carving. Adrian carved what she dubbed to be a "spirate" (spider-pirate). It was originally just going to be a spider, but then her daughter, Yoroko, decided that it needed to be a pirate. And she can be VERY convincing when she wants to be. Jonny carved a pterodactyl, which has reference to the costume that he belatedly decided he would like. Amazing though I am, I can't put together a pterodactyl costume in less than a week (especially when all our stuff gets packed up halfway through that week). I carved Ariel because I like Ariel (although Yoroko spent the whole night telling me, "That's not usual, Megan. That's not usual"). We think they turned out pretty well.

Friday morning the movers came and loaded everything up. They did a fabulous job, though I still had to leave the room when they loaded up the piano. I'm already dreading the idea of watching them haul it up two flights of stairs to our new apartment. That night was our ward Halloween trunk or treat. Do most adults dress up for this? No. But Halloween is my favorite holiday and I did not let that deter me. Due to previously mentioned constraints, our costumes were much less impressive this year. We took full advantage of Jon's semi-fro and turned him into Wolverine. Granted, this was not without significant amounts of whining on Jon's part. He REALLY wanted to be a pterodactyl. I resorted to my fall back costume--Pippi Longstocking. Jon's costume turned out way better than mine. I spend so much time getting his ready that mine always turn out lame. I must remedy this.

After a late-night haircut, Jon and I headed to the Nauvoo temple with the youth at 7 am this morning. It was a sad experience for me--I hate the idea of having to say goodbye to Nauvoo again. We had a good time, and really enjoyed the car rides with Mindy and Nathan. That ride is so much less stressful for me when Jon isn't driving. Nathan doesn't feel the need to pass everyone on the 2 lane highway that isn't going 15 over.

I'm avoiding counting the days left here--I'm not ready to go! And now I have to go feed Jon, a process that is infinitely more complicated without a microwave.

Chicago Trip

Last week Jon announced to his carpool that he had not seen everything in Chicago that he wanted to. He and our friend Nathan decided that we would make a road trip the following weekend (and then promptly forgot to tell their wives). As I am unemployed, last minute plans make no difference to me. Nathan's lovely wife, Mindy, however, wasn't able to get work off on such short notice. To avoid feeling like a third wheel, Nathan invited another friend, Nate, to come with us too. So, Saturday morning at 7 am, I and three boys loaded into our fabulous gold Taurus for the 3 hour trip.

Nathan had spent quite a bit of time in Chicago and was an excellent tour guide. In fact, he had our entire day planned out before we even left. Our first stop was Half Price books--an extremely dangerous place for me. I grabbed two $1 novels and Jon bought 4 or 5 Dilbert books. We then had a fabulous breakfast at a local restaurant famous for their gigantic apple pancakes. It took both Nathan and Jon to finish one of those suckers off.

I loved the beach on Michigan lake that we stopped at. It amazes me how blue the water is. After living near the Mississippi for so long I just assume that all water sources are going to be brown and stinky. We also stopped at the Baha'i temple, which had some sweet architecture.

For lunch we had reservations at the Signature Room (95th floor)of the Hancock Tower. The view was amazing, but my lobster bisque was nasty. I could smell it coming from across the room.

The rest of the day we spent just walking around the city looking at various interesting sites. The Tribune building was pretty cool--it has pieces of stone from places all over the world placed in its walls. That evening we watched a free performance by Midnight Circus, a local acrobatic group. I was actually quite impressed--one of the girls did things I've never seen done before on a tight walk. Unfortunately, we ended up standing too close behind a homeless man, and when the wind shifted I almost passed out.

Right before we left we had some fun taking pictures at the Cloudgate sculpture, otherwise known as The Bean. Its surface is a giant mirror designed to reflect the skyline. We were more interested in our own reflections.

The three hour drive home was pretty miserable. There is absolutely nothing to see, especially at night. We got to our neighborhood just in time to have a policeman ask Nathan if he'd heard the gunfire reported in our neighborhood. I found this quite amusing. Here we are, fresh from Chicago where we'd seen nothing more scandalous than a drug deal, and then we come back to little Davenport and THEN we hear about gunfire.

Now it's back to getting ready to move. The movers come on Thursday to pack us up. That's right--we don't have to pack a dang thing. So why am I so stressed out that I'm getting sick? No idea. Hey, at least being sick means that Jon will take me out to eat. He'd rather pay than cook himself. Me too, but I don't have that option, darn it.

New Apartment

We unofficially have acquired our new apartment in Maryland. Since we have been unable to actually go out there and look at apartments ourselves, I've been nervous to make a decision. We've been toying with this complex for a while since it runs about $100 cheaper per month than the rest, but that made me particularly nervous. Why the low price? Is is roach infested or full of ex-cons? Luckily one of our friends from Texarkana is out there and told us it seems like a nice, quiet place.

Well, the owner finally sent us pictures yesterday, and I am at a loss for words. Thank heaven we're only going to be there for 6 months (and then we're buying a house! Yikes!). The carpet: purpley-blue. The walls and closet doors: mirrors. And, the best feature: the bright, rainbow-colored light-switch covers. I can understand the mirrors. People in the 70s thought mirrors were pretty sweet and put them everywhere. Even the purple-blue carpet. But rainbow light-switch covers? I haven't decided if I'm going to take them down immediately or just keep them up because I find them so amusing.

In the meantime, I'm working on getting everything ready for the move (aka taking pictures of everything, fixing broken stuff, and trying to use all our extra food). Thanks to our wonderful neighbors, Jonny & I have acquired every episode of the X-files. All 202. Watching them brings back lots of memories of sleepovers with Alicia. However, I am divided on the idea of watching them. My theory is that scary movies/shows are a huge waste of my time. How is keeping myself perpetually afraid to go into my basement making me a better person or helping me understand life more fully? But am I sticking to my theory? No. Instead I'm watching X-files and then trying to convince myself that there is no such thing as creepy monster-people, nor are they trying to crawl into my air ducts and rip out my liver. Once again, why am I watching this?

One last rant: I feel very strongly that people should not gossip about who they think is pregnant. I went visiting teaching last night and was filled in (I'm clueless) about the thousands of girls in our ward who are going to have babies. This is fine--those girls were already out in the open. But then I got this: "I heard there's someone who's pregnant and doesn't want anyone to know. Someone who doesn't have any kids yet and wants it to be a surprise." Well, naturally, this leads to mass speculation on who it is. They even asked if it was me (ha ha). I was actually very upset. Whoever this poor girl is, she obviously wants to surprise everyone. Now she's going to tell people and they'll just say, "Oh! I thought it was you!" This has just made me even more determined that I will NOT tell anyone until I'm 5 or 6 months along. And no, it's really not me. I have a Disneyland trip coming up in December that being pregnant would severely interfere with.

Seriously, it's not me.

The Joys of Music

I'm sure Christine will appreciate this one.

So our ward choir pianist moved away this month. I knew this was coming, as the choir director had already told me that I would be taking her spot. This is no problem--I love playing for the choir, especially since it forces me to keep up my skills. Well, this was all agreed on prior to us finding out we were moving. Fortunately, they found someone to replace me, but she's never been the choir pianist before and is completely intimidated (our choir director is amazing, but some of the songs she picks are beasts on the piano). Thus, I am still playing for the choir despite the fact that I won't even be here for the Christmas program which we are already practicing.

Last night (yes, after Conference) we had a practice. I was honestly surprised to see almost the entire choir there. I hate to admit it, but if I wasn't the pianist there's no way I would have been there. Everything went relatively well until we got to "Silent Night." It's a gorgeous arrangement, but it's one of those where each part is written on a separate line. This has not been a problem in the past since the accompaniment has included all 4 parts. Unfortunately, the part they learned last night did not have their parts in the accompaniment. I could play each part individually, and even two together, but then the choir director says, "All parts together!" So here I am, trying to read 4 lines of music at the same time, not to mention simultaneously trying to transpose the tenor line (written in the treble clef) down an octave. I though I did relatively well, until I turned to look at the choir and saw looks of consternation from the alto and bass sections. I definitely got several "What is your problem?" looks. I tried to restrain my frustration by reminding myself that most of them don't actually read music, but it was still really irritating. Of course, those who did read music were giving me empathetic looks. Luckily by today I find this amusing, but last night I really was ready to give the choir a lecture on reading music. Sometimes I tell myself that when we move I'm not telling anyone that I play the piano/organ, but then I remember that whole "burying your talents" thing. I guess I can resign myself to being the ward organist for the rest of my life.

...and one for Julie

My husband...


What is his name? Jonathan Cox Blood



How long have you been together?
Since we started dating-2 1/2 years
Since we were married - it will be 2 years in December

How long did you date?
5 months before he proposed, then we were engaged for 4 months

How old is he? 25

Who eats more? Usually him. However, if there are French Fries (or any form of potatoes) involved, I can slowly but surely out-eat him.

Who said I love you first? He did. It took me completely by surprise, since we had only been dating 2 months. We were hanging out at my apartment (it was my 20th birthday) and out of the blue he looks at me and says, "I love you." I stared blankly at him for several seconds, and then, (most unconvincingly, according to Jon), mumbled, "I love you, too." He told me he didn't believe me until the next week or so.

Who is taller? Jon, by 5 inches.

Who sings better? Me, although we did have a serious discussion about his singing ability last night. I think there's some potential there, but I'm being kind and not informing the ward choir director, who, without exception, hunts down every potential singer in the ward.

Who is smarter? Good question. I had a better GPA, but I was "just" an English major, whereas he was a Chemical Engineering major. He's better with logic and deep thinking, where I am the one who keeps the day-to-day stuff in line (like realizing at 2am the night before we left that our cruise didn't actually leave for two more days). Oh, and he corrects my grammar more frequently than I correct his.

Who does the laundry? Me. No way I'm letting "throw everything in the dryer" boy near my clothes.

Who does the dishes? I'll be kind and say Jon. Technically, it's his job, but he has a tendency to leave things to "soak" for several days, at which point I usually need something that is "soaking" and end up doing the dishes.

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? If you're standing at the foot of the bed, Jon sleeps on the right. Always. Which is funny, because we unconsciously chose those sides and later realized that both our parents sleep the exact same way--wife on the left, husband on the right.

Who pays the bills? Jon. He has a very precise system, and I just let him do his thing.

Who mows the lawn? Glenda, our landlady.

Who cooks dinner? Me. I can occasionally get him to cook, but he insists that it tastes better when I cook. I try to use this same logic against him--"It tastes better when someone else cooks. Let's go out to eat." Doesn't usually work.

Who drives when you are together? Jon. I have a latent road rage gene that comes roaring to life in even moderate traffic.

Who is more stubborn? It's close, but I think I win.

Who is the first to admit when they're wrong? Usually Jon. I'm still woefully immature sometimes.

Who kissed who first? He kissed me. Before we had even gone on a date or held hands. Once again--total surprise.

Who asked who out? Funny story: So a week previous to the first kiss mentioned above, I had suddenly realized that I had a crush on him (seriously--it was like, "BAM! Oh, I guess I like Jon"). According to Jon, I was so inept at hiding my feelings that he could tell by the time that night was over. He, being the flirt that he is, takes advantage of this new development. There was no hand-holding or kissing, but there was some extreme-sitting-really-close-on-the-couch time. I let this go for a few days, and then decided that I would NOT be a simple snuggle buddy. If he wanted to cuddle, he was going to have to ask me out. A day or two later my apartment threw a movie night, during which there was more cuddling. However, I was determined that he was not leaving until I had made myself clear. Thus, when the movie ended, I kept him back so I could give him a talking to. He, however, interpreted this as a move to make myself more accessible for kissing and took immediate advantage (while my roommate spied from the kitchen). I informed him immediately afterwards that he would be taking me out that weekend. So I'm not sure who really "asked" who. I demanded that he ask, and then he asked.

Who proposed? He did. I flew all the way to Arkansas just so he could propose, and then he tells me the ring didn't come in time. At first I thought it was a joke, but by my last night there I was convinced. Of course, he proposed that night. Punk.

Who is more sensitive? Me. Jon's an engineer. They have no sensitivities.

Who has more friends? Me, but only because I'm better at keeping in touch.

Who has more siblings? Jon, by a landslide. He's 3rd of 10, I'm first of 4.

Who wears the pants in the family? It's surprisingly even, actually. He handles the money and major decisions (like where we'll live in Maryland) and I run the house and make sure he doesn't forget to do the little things. Sometimes I feel like I'm his secretary.

Moving to Maryland...finally

After a fabulous year in Davenport, Iowa, Jonny & I are getting ready to move again. For those of you who are wondering why we're incapable of staying in one spot longer than 13 months, I present the following story: After finishing up his ChemE degree at BYU, Jon took a job with the Army Materiel Command Fellows Program. Basically this is a 5 year program: The first year, they send everyone to Texarkana, Arkansas/Texas where they pay you to get your MBA (or MSBA in Jon's case) at the prestigious Texas A&M-Texarakana. Once that's done, they ship you to a random Army installation around the US for "training." When Jon started the program, the deal was that we'd move to a different location every year. However, the government realized this was getting too expensive, and decided that wherever they sent you, you'd stay for the remaining 4 years and just rotate between programs.

Around April 2006 we were told that we'd be heading to Aberdeen, Maryland, where Jon would be working on chemical demilitarization. We were both very happy about this, as it put us only 6 hours from his family in West Virginia. Then, inexplicably, a month later, they changed our location to the Rock Island Arsenal in Illinois. We were surprised, especially since there didn't seem to be any ChemE work going on out there. But we went anyway.

Turns out we were right. After about 6 months Jon realized that there was nothing here for him and began the incredibly slow and painful process of trying to change our location back to Maryland. 5 1/2 months later, we finally got the official go-ahead. Jon reports to work on Nov. 5th. Yay!

Lest you think that our time in Davenport was a complete waste, I would like to say that we really wish Jon's job had worked out. We love our neighborhood (full of young LDS couples at Palmer College of Chiropractic and a few Arsenal people) and have made some great friends. Not to mention the fact that rent will probably cost us $400-$500 dollars more per month on the East Coast.

So...if any of you are thinking of heading out East, Jon & I are planning to buy a house around May. If you head out before then, we can try to squeeze you into what I'm sure will be a disgustingly small apartment.