Tuesday, December 30, 2008

My new baby

This is what all the fuss was about.
Isn't she pretty? Adam is the best husband on the planet.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

When we're rich and famous...

...and Adam is an internationally renowned opera singer, he's going to wear these to a performance. Really swanky tux, overall stunning appearance, made even more perfect by these cufflinks:How can we even contain the awesomeness? They're from an etsy shop, and I found them from a blog, but I don't remember which one.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Those poor reindeer

I've been thinking about holiday traditions (now who on earth does that around Christmas?). It occurred to me that my siblings and I were awful cruel as children, although we hope it was unwitting. For years, every Christmas eve, we would leave out a plate of cookies for Santa. One year, however, it occurred to us that Santa wasn't the one doing all the work. Those poor reindeer had to carry a sleigh around, while flying, and Santa just kept getting fatter as the night went on! Why aren't we feeding them instead? So, in addition to Santa's cookies (can't risk offending the big guy), we would leave 9 bowls of carrots out, one for each reindeer, with the expectation that they would have disappeared by the time we awoke. Next morning, sure enough, the cookies would be all but gone, as well as the carrots. Some of the bowls had the remains of a few of the vegetables, suggesting that they left in a hurry and couldn't quite finish. Clearly, the reindeer appreciated our thoughtfulness. Sometimes Santa even left a note thanking us for feeding his poor steeds.
The question is, did my parents actually eat all those carrots? Because if so, dang it. I'm sorry. Like I said, we were cruel children.

(my guess is they just went back in the fridge)

*image from schlerplotti.typepad.com, but they got it from somewhere, which got it from somewhere, which got it from somewhere...which got it from the movie . Man, I love that flick.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008


This evening, in tearing apart my apartment, searching for a Christmas gift purchased over the summer and then stashed somewhere safe, I discovered a box of shoes, just my size, which I have no recollection of buying. I was kind of excited. Then I tried them on and realization dawned. The box contains two shoes, but both of them are right.

Does anyone know of someone who could use them?

A quirk, not a quark

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

As promised, an Adam oddity coming right up.

Every once in a while, you'll be talking to Adam, when he'll break eye contact and instead look closely at a spot on your face, squint a little, look confused, or concerned, or something, and then snap out of it and return to normal conversation. It's not a tic, or a spasm, he just likes to bug people by driving them a little bit insane. It works on me. In fact, you might say that it sends me bonkers. After that, I can't focus, or talk. My hands go to my face, convinced that there's a horribly disfiguring blot or something (yes, I'm vain like that). I have to go find a mirror.

I'll try to capture this on film so you can have a visual. To tell the truth, I did try to find an image online that somehow conveys the disquieting nature of this look, but what do you google for that? Concerned looking closely? Faces looking confused? Not so much.

Monday, December 22, 2008

I really, really like this guy named Adam

...in case you haven't figured that out yet. However, sometimes he thinks that I only post his oddities on this blog, instead of all his good parts. As I've discovered some quirks of his that are too good not to post, I'm getting on his good side by writing a glowing description of the love-of-my-life before I get to the fun stuff.
I'm a fan of the blog Cupcakes take the Cake, although they publish somewhere in the ballpark of 803 posts a day, which is overwhelming for my already over-stressed brain. This might seem out-of-character for me, since baking has never been a strong point, but eating is, so it's all good. Some of their photos just make me drool. On last Monday, the 15th of December (or maybe the Ides of December. Does that work?), they announced National Cupcake Day. What's not to love? I mentioned it to Adam, with a proposition for cupcake-making later in the day, but with finals and everything, we didn't get around to it (did I mention that last week was not so good? Finals=bleh). The next day was a rough one for me, lots of stressors, and my Econ finals approaching were filling me with an unshakeable feeling of impending doom. Adam went on an essentials-only shopping trip, which turned out to be a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, cupcake liners, and chocolate frosting. "Why don't we make some of those cupcakes? It's a day late, but they should still count." Isn't he sweet? I think I'll keep him.

Sunday, December 21, 2008


I just learned how to post-date a post. Therefore, this post was written on Saturday, and it will not appear until Sunday, which is pretty spiffy.

Recently, my younger, morally-opposed-to-blogging, brother, Steven, berated me for not posting enough. Apparently, the least I can do for my "die-hard fans" like him (his words, not mine), is post more often. The problem is that I don't have anything to write, or I've forgotten what I was going to write by the time I snag a few minutes to pour thoughts onto the computer screen (you didn't think this was anything but a stream-of-consciousness blog, did you?) in a somewhat comprehensible form, or that I think it's too boring to post without pictures too often, etc., etc. My sister, Katie, described me as a sporadic blogger, meaning that I post a lot when I choose to, but in between it's just crickets. So, instead of posting multiple random thoughts at a time, maybe from this point on I will just post-date any posts beyond one that I write at a time, and then you guys will think that I'm all on top of things and doing the daily posting thing (haha, suckers!).

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Update on Secrets

Remember this post? I found out what it was that Adam was plotting. My Christmas present! Months early! Now, it seems, the thing that he was scheming about has found its way to the virtually non-existent pile of presents under our tree (that we got yesterday because Katie and Sterling went to California and gave us theirs! HUZZAH!) with my name on it. And I'm still going crazy. En serio. He keeps giving me little hints. Here's what I know about this gift:
  • According to Adam, it will be the best present I've ever gotten, with the possible exception of my engagement ring/wedding ring.
  • It will make me want to have children (??? (by the way, I do want kids)).
  • You can buy it on Ebay (I have never spent much time on Ebay, so I originally thought this was more of a hint than it actually is. Bonnie: "But you can't buy, say, a piano on ebay!" Adam: "Yes you can." Bonnie: "Oh. Dang."
  • There are new and old versions of this gift.
  • It is not made of titanium, and is breakable.
I just don't know what to make of it. Without the last hint (just today), I thought...a trip to Disneyland? You know, there's the old Disneyland, but then there's California Adventure, which is new. I just... don't know.

*image from stillsearching.wordpress.com

So on top of things

I'm not the most organized person in the world. Seriously. As a result, it's 5 days before Christmas and I have barely started my Christmas shopping. Even Adam's presents aren't all bought (or they haven't arrived. Crossing my fingers!). Slackface am I. If you read this blog and know that I'm supposed to give you a gift in a few days time, just write a quick suggestion in the comments. Wouldn't that be nice?P.S. Remind me to tell you about the 12 days of Christmas.

*image from www.aolcdn.com

Seasonal Sounds

The feeling that Christmas is coming never hits until finals are over. This year, that wasn't until 10:00 am yesterday (read: Having 7am finals on the last two days of the week is a royal pain). But now it's here, and I'm loving it.

Every year, my great-grandma Casper has her Christmas party a few days before the actual holiday, so that all members of her posterity don't have to choose between it and other holiday festivities. Last night, we attended. The party is the same every year. Same menu. Same program. Same people, just older, and possibly with different significant others. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. I still don't know how Grandma Casper and Grandma Barnett (with the help of Grandpa Barnett) manage to make enough food to feed us all. This year, the guest list had 1 great-grandma, 2 grandparents, 5 of their 6 children, 2 spouses, 20 of their 21 grandchildren, 2 spouses, and 1 boyfriend. I don't even want to add all those up. We eat in shifts because there simply is not enough space to fit us all.And then the real fun begins. Grandma Barnett is incredibly well-versed in all things classical music. She taught (and continues to teach) all her grandchildren piano lessons, and encouraged our parents to get us involved in other instrumental activities as well. We have the makings of a family orchestra, although some (or all of us) are not very good, and haven't touched our instruments in years. Instead of acting out the nativity story every year, Grandma has put together a musical program, with readings of scripture by the grandkids. The orchestra sits in the kitchen, competing for space and attention, and the few remaining attendees sit in the living room, listening through the open folding door (what do you call that thing? It's like what covers a baptismal font).

Highlights of this year's Christmas program:
  • Rachel (the youngest grandchild) singing "plug my ears" at the top of her lungs while performing said act through the first few numbers.
  • Clark echoing Steven's scripture reading through his trombone.
  • My aunt Kathleen attempting to keep the tempo up using a banana baton.
  • Clark, during his turn at the piano, choosing his own speed and leaving the orchestra in the dust, as well as laughing too hard to play.
  • My Dad describing his version of hell: making you play in the family orchestra.
  • Clark reading his scripture in some sort of accent, prounouncing mother as "mahtheh" and myrh as "Muh."
And a good time was had by all.
*image from neatorama.cachefly.net

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Back off, girls!

Adam sang in church today and was AWESOME. I'm not even biased, I promise. It was so good, in fact, that all the men in our ward are having to work a little harder to keep their wives interested. Just kidding, but after church, a woman in our ward told us that during his performance, the guy from the couple next to them had leaned over to her husband and said, "Joe, you better step it up. All the women in the ward are going to be leaving their husbands for him. Heck, I'm thinking of leaving my wife for him."

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Conversation following Katie's trip to my bathroom

Katie: "Bonnie, you have fancy shampoo.
Bonnie: I beg to differ. Adam has fancy shampoo.
Adam: Lies, we got that for our wedding.
Bonnie: Not that shampoo, the shampoo I found in one of your boxes. You take good care of your hair.
Adam: Oh, that? I probably stole that from my mom or something.
Bonnie: Really?
Adam: Maybe.
Katie: It's one hundred percent vegan.

I laughed. Maybe you had to be there.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Note to self

Starting a 10 page paper at midnight and finishing it 10 minutes before your class starts at noon is not a desirable way to live your life.

Bleary-eyed does not even begin to describe me right now.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Date Night

One of the great things about marriage is that you get to spend a lot of time together. For example, for our Friday night date, we went up to the Utah Symphony's performance of Mozart's Requiem. Adam's got a thing for Requiems. In an interesting juxtaposition, we came home and finished out our evening mopping up tainted water in our bathroom due to an unfortunate toilet overflow. Family. Isn't it about time?

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

How much do you value your life?

Adam says that if he had to choose between dying of starvation and cannibalizing, he would cannibalize. I find this horrifying. However, if he had to choose between dying of starvation and eating me (his wife), it would be a slightly more difficult to decide.


Monday, December 1, 2008

You may not like him, but try out this photo-essay.


Okay, my blog-spurt is over. Maybe I'll post more tomorrow.

Keep clicking "Show More Images."

I was made for a life of leisure

I had a fabulous Thanksgiving break.

My recipe for perfect vacations:
Forget about school and work.
Just have fun.
Eat three scrumptious Thanksgiving dinners.

There are drawbacks to this perfection, namely arriving back in the real world with an annoying bump, made the more jarring by the extra pounds you gained from all the stuffing.

Based on the eats, Adam and I decided that certain recipes are necessary for our health and happiness (or maybe just the happiness):
My grandma's stuffing
My great-grandma's cranberry sauce
The infamous orange rolls (that take over your kitchen in a gigantic sticky gooiness)
Josie's key-lime pie
Brined turkey
Linda's experimental stuffing

I slacked and didn't take any pictures, not even of the fun Thanksgiving day with guitar hero at our cabin, but other people did. Maybe I'll post them. No promises.

Just call that break my two-week Thanksgiving vacation. I wish.

Bizarre dream Sunday morning:

Cruise ship.
In an economics class on the cruise ship.
Really large class in some type of indoor auditorium.
Someone's putting nuts in my hair.
I put the nuts on the floor and pigeons attack me to get at the nuts.
I hate pigeons.
Addendum: I hate pigeons when they're touching me.
Try to escape crazed pigeons by running up steps.
Apparently there's a restaurant in the class.
But no one goes.
They're too busy a) putting nuts in my hair or b) fighting off crazed pigeons.
I try to climb down off back (stern?) of the cruise ship and discover...
It's in space.
If I fall, I'll just keep falling.
Instead, I grab a zipline.
Zipline is hecka long.
It takes me inside the ship, to the set of a movie.
The family that they're filming asks if I'm all right and takes the nuts out of my hair.
The end.

Interpretations, anyone?

*Pigeon picture from here.