The wonders of a clean kitchen

My mom once told us kids that she was able to keep her house clean, keep her figure and in most ways keep control of things... up until she had that third child (who shall remain nameless... YOU know who you are). After that, the kitchen was rarely clean (for long- we did try) and other things got out of control, but we never felt unloved or ignored (except maybe after 10:00 when M*A*S*H was on- but I was supposed to be in bed anyway so it doesn't really count).

I've never had a figure worth keeping, I'm rarely in control of anything around me and I look at my kitchen and wonder what my problem is. I don't have the three kids to blame it on. Heck, I don't have one to blame it on. The mess in there is one hundred percent my problem (we'll talk about the living room, bathroom and bedroom another day).


I blame it on life being a crazy collection of commitments that I've allowed myself to stumble in to. Girls camp was the first and foremost thing on my mind these days and no matter how much I try to put it behind me- it still won't go away. There still seems to be people who want the things back that they allowed us to borrow. What is wrong with you people? Can't you get along without your hammers, rakes and buckets for a couple of weeks till I get tired of lugging them around in my trunk and decide to give them back to you? Don't get me wrong. Girls camp was great. I especially loved when torrential rains huffed and puffed and my house made of Coleman Nylon came-a-tumblin' down. I would not have made a good 4th little pig. I'm glad it was my tent though and not a tent filled with six girls and all their crap. It was a lot easier to relocate one leader rather than six girls.

I learned some things about myself though:

• If you make me mad while I'm holding a bb gun, you're in trouble.
• If you make me mad while I'm holding a bow and arrow, the person NEXT to you is in trouble.
• I thrive on popularity. I loved it when I was in the lame-o skit but my girls yelled out, "We love you, Sister Baker!" I love being loved.
• I love showers and I miss them when I can't take them every morning.
• Camping rocks when you have professional Dutch Oven caterers preparing every meal

When camp was done, my next project was getting my friends married. They didn't really need my help for that, but we had to play with them all their last week of singleness. I loved the bachelor vs bachelorette laser tag competition. We lost due to the fact that we outnumbered the guys two to one (they had more targets to hit) but I prevailed as the top scoring bachelorette! Go Man Eater! Woo hoo!
Then, I volunteered to make trays of brownies for their wedding reception which in and of itself was an adventure. Of the hundreds of batches of brownies I've made in my life these ones had me in such a dither. I was so set on everything being perfect. It was the first time I was doing something for a wedding with MY name behind it. I mean, I've made zillions of sheet cakes and stuff, but they all went to my Mom's credit. I had a few setbacks, but it all ended up well and they tasted good- at least no one died eating them.
I'm sure there have been other things that have occupied my mind. I mean, there's the constant guilt that I'm not doing enough with my five callings (one is gone now that camp is over- so there is one less thing to feel guilty about not doing). I don't make the visits I've been asked to make, I don't attend all the meetings I've been asked to attend. My meetings overlap with the choir that I've been asked to be a member of so I feel guilty if I go to my meetings instead of choir- so sometimes I just skip both and come home and take a nap, then feel guilty for wasting time. I haven't had time to work on my book which gnaws at my insides everyday. I haven't even made time to read my library book. I had to *gasp* renew it because it's been taking so long.
But- in spite of all this, I took time tonight to find my kitchen counters and sink. They are still there! I may have no control over anything or no figure to write home about, but by golly, I have a clean kitchen!

Good News Bad News

I finally beat it! I did it! I beat the expert level of Minesweeper! It finally happened at about 12:45 a.m. It's such a relief to have it done. I'm sure my roommate will get on and beat my time- like she has the other two levels (she purposely didn't pass the expert level so that my name could appear on there at least once. Thanks Han) but I did it!

Despite my elation at beating what is possibly the lamest game ever- I'm fighting from drowning in the depths of despair today. I've been going through the home buying process for a couple of months now. In March- because I was bored at work one day- I let our mortgage lender run my information to see how much of a loan I would qualify for. She ran it- and it came back a decent number so I thought, hey, why not? I'm really tired of paying someone's mortgage for them. In the last two years I've thrown nearly $10,000 down the rent drain. That's horrible! What a waste! So, I've been going through homeowners education classes to get help with the down payment and closing costs- I've ordered three years worth of tax statements- I've even broken down and become an official Coloradan by giving up my beloved Idaho Drivers licence (I really liked the picture on it) and registered to vote in a state where I'm sure my vote wont matter because I'm well... I'm not in Idaho anymore.

Long story short- Rates are going up so rapidly, that when I had my friend's Dad run my information again yesterday- it came back no good. I can't qualify anymore. I am so incredibly sad! I really really REALLY don't want to have to get help from my parents. But it appears that if I go through with it all I'll have to. And then- I might not get the amount I was anticipating so now I will have an even lower budget to be able to shop in- and there's not much in decent neighborhoods in my now much more meager price range. And even if I could- I don't know if I could swing the monthly payments. So... I don't know what to do. So instead of really doing anything, I'm whining to you- eating Cheetos and pouting on the inside.