"When we're rich and have our own house, can we have heated toilet seats?'

For those of you who are not aware, it has already begun snowing in Utah. Just last night good ol' Mother Nature dumped five to six inches on us. Apparently Mother Nature is not aware that it is still October.

But I digress.

The changing of the weather indicates several things:

1) I suddenly feel the urge to listen to Christmas music (although, to be honest, I've been listening to it the last couple of weeks).

2) I start wearing beanies -- and, on occasion, my Eeyore slippers -- to bed.

3) I drink hot chocolate like there's no tomorrow. And not just any hot chocolate -- Stephen's Gourmet Hot Chocolate.

Back in the day when Heather and I were roommates, we had a hot chocolate collection unrivaled by anyone in the ward. Here's a picture for proof:

Impressive, no?

Well, once Heather and I stopped living together, we had to divide up the hot chocolate collection, which was definitely a tragedy. And since that day, my collection has been dwindling.

Jacob said he won't let me buy more hot chocolate until I exhaust my current supply. I take that as permission to drink a minimum of one cup a day.

The other day, while glancing at the label of one of those cans, I noticed that Stephen's had a website. Being the fan that I am, I perused it to see what new flavors they had.

Horror of horrors! When I clicked on the "Shopping" button, I noticed that they didn't stock Orange Creme anymore -- which was by and far their most delicious variety. Why, oh why, did the company commit such an atrocity?

My faith was shaken. Until I saw that Orange Creme was, in fact, in stock -- and listed in the Clearance section.

Happy day!

Houston, we have a problem.

Apparently I wasn't thinking straight when I planned my grocery list a week and a half ago (yes, we only go every two weeks. Otherwise life would be bleak. For me, at least.), because I intended to make a lovely tater tot casserole for dinner tonight. Okay, maybe it isn't that lovely. It isn't much more than ground meat, cream of mushroom soup, and tater tots dumped into a casserole dish, but it is easy, which is definitely one of its perks.

And somehow, here I am, tater tot-less.

Do you think Jacob would eat it if I served straight ground turkey for dinner tonight? (Actually, don't answer that. He'd probably drown it in ketchup and then eat it, but what would I eat?)

Looks like cold cereal and/or waffles for dinner tonight. Again.

Update: I just might be able to whip together some tostadas or burritos or something. Lucky for me, I had a can of refried beans on hand . . . :)

For those of you who love a man in uniform . . .

This is what Jacob wears to the Police Academy every Monday and Wednesday. Strapping, no?

I like to think there are a lot of possibilities with this outfit. Just yesterday, we went to our public library to pick up a DVD that Jacob had on hold. Much to our (and the librarian's) dismay, somebody had stolen the DVD from the shelves. I told Jacob that he should just stand by the exit or the hold shelves in this uniform for an hour after class every day to deter potential thieves.

He didn't seemed terribly thrilled with the idea.

I also told him he could pretend to be a cop in an unmarked vehicle and sit at the side of the road and watch for speeders.

For some reason, he didn't like that idea either. Something about being "illegal" or such. 



And then, there's always the possibility of coming to my elementary school to speak to the students about "Stranger Danger" or something like that. Never mind the fact that he isn't an actual police officer yet. The kids don't need to know that.

A disclaimer of sorts

Lest you think the title of this blog is ridiculously cheesy (and I know it can be taken that way), it's in reference to this fabulous song:



Jacob and I have engaged in many a dance party to this song. And yes, I know it well enough that without even watching the video, I can tell him "this is the part where she dances with Moses with the ribbon! This is where they get married!" and so on and so forth.

Embrace it.

"Dang wishbones. They never work!" -- Jacob

It's no secret that I'm a very jumpy person. It's also no secret that scary movies and I do not make a good combination. Years ago, I watched The Grudge with some of my friends in high school and I screamed like a little girl for the entire duration of the last ten minutes of the movie.

So I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of watching it again when Jacob proposed the idea over a year ago, before we were engaged. Nevertheless, he is a persistant fella, so I finally agreed, provided he signed a little contract before we started the movie.

We found the contract today while we were cleaning up our apartment in an attempt to cut down on how many boxes we have stashed in our second bedroom. And now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you the official contract:

"I, Jennifer Sudweeks, consent to watching The Grudge if and only if the following terms, conditions, and restrictions are met:

"1. Jacob is not allowed to make any sudden movements, send Jennifer any texts, or make the creepy throat noise during the movie.

"2. Jacob is not allowed to mock Jennifer for any screaming or other whanny actions she does during the movie.

"3. If Jennifer deems it necessary, a guard shall be posted outside the bathroom when she showers to ensure that no creepy Japanese children enter the bathroom.

"Jacob, the undersigned, agrees to comply with these terms and conditions under penalty of never again having the opportunity of watching a creepy movie with Jennifer."

And then I had both of us sign it at the bottom.

Teehee.