Friday, August 31, 2007

Understanding Steve

Sometimes, I really don't understand my husband.

Last night, for instance, I listened to his end of a phone conversation with his brother. Said brother had called to ask for help with computer problems. This is a regular occurrence in Steve's life, as everyone he knows calls him for help with computer problems. Last night he told his brother to click on a link to download a program he wrote that will allow him to see his brother's computer screen, and take control of the mouse. Then he talked about command line compressors and said things like "Dude, I haven't used REM since I was 13" and "The next step is the SSH, dawg" and a bunch of other stuff that I had no understanding of whatsoever. (Except for "dude" and "dawg" - those are regular nouns in his tech support vocabulary.)

Though I often don't understand what he's talking about, I think the Powers-That-Be knew that I, who wept over my high school geometry homework, needed to marry a self-described computer and math geek. It's that whole "one spouse's strengths complement the other spouse's weaknesses" thing. (You know that thing?) It's so true in our case! Steve helps me with installing software on my laptop and adding up monthly expenses, and I help him with his ability to perform believable Shakespearean monologues. (He's really improving.)

For all that I don't understand about him, there's a lot that I do. I completely understand his adoration of classical music (he has an amazing collection), and his love of documentaries, Woody Allen films, The Sopranos, Cops, and really bad made-for-tv movies on the Lifetime channel. I also totally get his fondness for cute things, be they kittens, bunnies, baby nieces and nephews, puppies, or Anne Hathaway.

The thing that I understand best, however, is that he's the most wonderful husband an Emmie could ever ask for, and I wanted to publicly tell him so as we embark upon our 5th year of marriage.

So Steve, if you're reading this: Happy Anniversary! I love you. Oh, and I think there's something wrong with my computer . . .

Monday, August 27, 2007


My sister-in-law sent me an email tonight that contained something surprising: a video of me dressed in a Carmen Miranda outfit, doing a sassy flamenco dance. Thing is, I've never worn a Carmen Miranda outfit, and I've never danced the flamenco.

Once I found out how she made the impossible possible, I decided that Steve and I should disco.

Steve's a natural.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Ahead at 5

Have you ever taken a picture of something that's on TV? I hadn't until yesterday, but thanks to my trusty TiVo I was able to pause this news ad and snap a shot:

What exactly is Ms. Laura Diaz wearing? Did she just come from the beach and not have enough time to change?

I love Orange County.

Monday, August 20, 2007


Greetings, everyone!  I have returned, and I believe the carpal tunnel crisis of 2007 has been averted.  It is ever so nice to be back!  Due to my long absence, I have a lot to blog about, so let's get started, shall we?

First things first: Last week, my dad's latest work was published.  I'm a big fan of my dad's writing, so I'd like to tell you about the book, entitled Hooligan: A Mormon Boyhood.

From the back cover:

"In the days before sunscreen, soccer practice, MTV, and Amber Alerts, boys roamed freely in the American West - fishing, hunting, hiking, pausing to skinny-dip in river or pond.  Douglas Thayer was such a boy, and in this poignant, often humorous memoir, he depicts his Utah Valley boyhood during the Great Depression and World War II.

Known in some circles as a Mormon Hemingway, Thayer has created a richly detailed work that shares cultural DNA with Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes, Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and William Golding's Lord of the Flies.  His narrative at once prosaic and poetic, Thayer captures nostalgia for a simpler time, along with boyhood's universal yearnings, pleasures, and mysteries."

From Orson Scott Card:

"One of the finest writers the LDS Church has yet produced has now turned his talent to his own growing-up years.  Entertaining, wise - and it's even true."

It's really fascinating to read about what Provo was like for a young boy during the Great Depression, and especially delightful that the story is told with my dad's dry sense of humor.  

Here are a few excerpts from some early chapters:

"The postman, iceman, coalman, and milkman were a part of Sixth Ward daily life, a chip of ice out of the horse-drawn ice wagon a boy's free summer treat, that and the soft sun-heated tar we dug up from the cracks in the road for gum, the embedded gravel keeping our teeth sharp. The pie lady pushed her converted baby buggy loaded with fresh homemade pies down the sidewalk calling, 'Pies! Pies! Pies for supper!'  A herd of milk cows came up Second West every morning on their way to pasture north of town by the brickyard and returned every evening, each cow turning voluntarily down its own lane.  Twice daily the Heber Creeper, a small steam engine pulling its few cars, traveled the Denver and Rio Grande spur line up Second West to Provo Canyon and Heber Valley beyond."

Writing about his grandmother:

"English and stubborn, she and my grandpa would sometimes not talk to each other for three or four months and occasionally a year, but they would talk through the ten children.  Yet they slept in the same bed and eventually reconciled their differences.  Grandpa would bring home a small bag of candy, which he called a little sweetening for the bird, and put it on the kitchen counter.  If Grandma didn't throw it out the door, he knew the coast was clear."

If you're interested in purchasing the book, click on its cover above.  

Congratulations, Professor Thayer!