Wish Me Luck!

I was contacted earlier this week by BYU Law School, and they said they would like for me to meet with the Dean of Admissions. I asked my old boss if she had any idea what it was about, or if she could give me heads up on what the interview was for; she said she couldn’t go into details, but that the interview is “good news.” Wish me luck!


Almost there

Since we now have less than 2 weeks until my merciful doctor is going to induce me, the Romgi and I are trying to get our house as ready as we can for the Bwun – and for not having time to do anything else. So yesterday we (mostly the Romgi) painted the nursery.

We saw an episode of some cool show on HGTV a while ago where this masterful painter/decorator/designer guy transformed a basement room into an underwater playroom. It was amazingly awesome; he painted the walls several colors of blue, with the darkest at the bottom, and blended the colors as they progressed up so that it looked like being underwater. Super-ultra-great. Our room was based on that idea – only, instead of water, it’s outer space, or the sky…whichever…the ceiling and top of the walls are the darkest blue, and it goes down to a sky-ish blue. The Romgi did an expert job of blending the colors together. I think it looks fabulous.

What do you think?

I was too impatient to move things, I just wanted a picture!

I was too impatient to move things, I just wanted a picture!

Incomplete, but incredible.

Incomplete, but incredible.

There’s still some touchup work to be done, and then the rest of the furniture (on the other side of the room) needs to be moved back, and there’s no mattress in that crib…but for the most part, we now have an awesome nursery to bring the Bwun home to.

Hooray! Now if I can just have the Bwun!

Worth every bit of $0

You’ve all heard phrases like “Nothing worth having is free” and “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” Yesterday the Romgi and I reaffirmed the validity of both statements.

Denny’s was offering free Grand Slams from 6am-2pm, so instead of going before work (which we considered, but decided against since I was still on morphine and hadn’t really slept all night), the Romgi took a long lunch so we could stand in line and get our free food. We got to the Provo Denny’s about 11:15, and the line was wrapped around the building. Lots of high school students, older folks, the typical Denny’s crowd. Right in front of us was a woman who appeared to be the director of a homeless shelter, along with several of her…tenants? Shelterites?

Everything was fine until we rounded one corner and another homeless man cut in front of us to join the group ahead. I feel very judgmental and un-Christian for being creeped out by him, but he was a creepy man. I don’t mean his appearance – which was just your run-of-the-mill homeless look – but the fact that he kept turning around and staring at me, swaying from side to side.

Eventually (about 5 minutes later) I became so disconcerted that I had the Romgi turn to face me and be a barricade of sorts between me and the homeless man (the homeless man and I?). This was actually less effective since then the guy started lurking behind the Romgi’s back trying to look over the Romgi’s shoulder at me. When you get the feeling that someone is not quite mentally stable, having them lurk to look at you is not really fun.

I tried to carry on conversation with the Romgi about anything I could possibly think of, including repeating things we’d already talked about, so that I could stay occupied and hopefully not have to talk to the homeless man. It only worked for so long.

At first I didn’t catch what he said – although he was speaking loudly – so I said, “I’m sorry, what?”

“What’s your child’s name?” he repeated.

I figured that any name I said would just prolong the conversation, so I said we haven’t picked a name yet (sort of a lie. We’re pretty sure that we’ll do Evan, but no guarantees until we see the Bwun). To which the homeless man replied,

“My name is right here,” unzipping his jacket to reveal a bright orange t-shirt that said something like ‘Iswalleh + Yonica.’

We just sort of mumbled a reply. What else were we supposed to do? After another minute of lurking, he meandered off to stare at the driver of a minivan that was waiting to leave the parking lot. By the time he came back the Romgi and I decided we would just take the Grand Slam vouchers that were being handed out so we could come back later in the week – without having to wait in line.

So for the low price of an hour and a half in line and a conversation with a creepy homeless man, the Romgi and I each get a free Grand Slam sometime soon.

Worth it?

I’m still deciding!