Jamba Happy

Brooke got a (nother) job working at Jamba juice. So, Saturday morning at 9 am we decided to go say hello and have a good morning smoothie. Here's a peek into the party that it was:

Don't worry. I always get the Peanut Butter Moo'd...which happens to be the LEAST healthy thing in the store. Perfect.

Also, did you know there is a secret Jamba Juice menu? Well, it was secret until I posted about it on my blog, since the ENTIRE WORLD reads this daily. haha. {sarcasm}

It's kind of like ordering a hamburger Animal Style at In N Out. You can order smoothies that are not on the menu, but that everyone (except me, until now) knows about! It is pretty top secret, so I just might get snipered for spilling the beans. So totally worth it. The three smoothies I have recently learned about are the Gummi Bear, the Skittle, and the Starburst! Seriously. I have witnessed (and tasted) the creation of the Gummi Bear, but have never seen anyone order the other two. Try it out and let me know how it goes.

To my anonymous friend:

I got a comment on my previous post from an anonymous person that I would like to respond to. My thoughts were too long to stick in a comment, so I'm responding in a post. Look at that, Anonymous!! You're anonymously getting your own post on my blog. Good job :).

Here is part of their comment:

"I know nothing about your personal situation, nor do I need to know, so this question may not even apply to your specific situation. However, HOW do you know when divorce is right for you?I think in our religious "culture" it is one of the most taboo topics around and understandably a situation of "last resort". How is that decision come to? How do you make peace with it and know for sure it is the right thing to do under the circumstances? (p.s. This is not meant to put you "on the spot" or to sound judgemental, it is an honest question. I know many people who are staying in bad situations because their fear of divorce, or the fear of the "unknown" (i.e. having to go back to grad. school, use daycare, etc.) overrides their fear of their current circumstances...if you have any insights to share, I think it could be incredibly helpful!)"

For my response to this question, visit my other blog: Have Joy.

One Month...

...From today my Master's Program begins!! I am so excited/nervous/freakedout/stressed/monkey/anxious/terrified/thrilled/tired/happy/can't wait!! (Did anyone notice the monkey in the middle there? Just threw that in for fun.)

Anyway, this month will go by quickly. My mom is coming to visit for a while, my hours will be changing at work, I'll be buying books and figuring out my schedule, then to Reno for a weekend, then school! I think once school starts I will actually be spending more time with my girls than I've been able to since March, which I am so excited about. It just breaks my heart when I think about not being with them all day. Tearing up right now. Quick, change the subject.

So, there ya go. Oh, and I am getting really tired of this not-really-divorced-but-not-really-married stage. Like really.

Isn't it time for me to wake up yet? This nightmare is getting old.

My mom is awesome.

So my mom found some unusual charges on her credit card this past week and discovered that she was the lucky winner of credit card fraud! Flowers, jewelry, stuff from QVC--all purchases she did not make but were charged using her credit card number. She was pretty upset. I'm sure it's not smart to post all the details on here, but let me tell you the awesome part of this story. My mom called the flower company that had charged her credit card, did a little fibbing (straight Law & Order style), and found the order that had been made using her credit card number--a $114 fruit basket! Don't worry, I'm sure it was diamond encrusted fruit. Anyway, the order had already been put together, so it couldn't be cancelled.

...

But it had not been delivered.

...

So (not about to let crazy Credit Card Stealer reap all the benefits of stealing her card) my mom (let's call her Awesome Lady from here on out) promptly changed the delivery address...TO MY HOUSE! Haha! No sapphire studded fruit for you, Credit Card Number Stealer!

...

So this arrived at my house this afternoon:

Definitely not sparkling with diamonds, but still pretty sweet. Way to go, Awesome Lady. The funniest part is the rad (yes, I just said rad) note that came with the basket (I blurred out the company name):

Oh Leroy...how nice of you to buy your girlfriend fruit using someone else's money! What a catch you are! You tell your Lovey Poo to hold on to you! Who says romance is dead? You bring warm feelings to my heart, Leroy. Way to go.

REJECTED!

So Brooke and I tried out for American Idol last week.

That's right.

Tryouts were in San Francisco, which is 2 hours from where I live. We had to be there at 7 am on Tuesday to register and get wristbands, which we then had to wear for 2 days until auditions, which were on Thursday. Thursday we were up bright and early because we had to be at the Cow Palace by 5 AM!! Holy early. We stood in lines for ridiculous amounts of time. I actually sang with my mouth closed on camera, which will hopefully never make it to the show (I am pretty embarrassed of that in hindsight, actually, haha).

It was lots of fun, though. We even saw Justin Guarini! (That's right, season one fans. Be jealous!) We met some weird people, listened to a bunch of horrible singing, Brooke got some dude's phone number, someone thought I was 17 years old (haha, for reals), and all in all just enjoyed the experience. You sing for some random judges the first few rounds, and we got cut right out of the gate--we didn't even make it past the first judges! haha. In our defense, though, our judge was nodding, smiling, and even winked at me during my audition. Then he told us this, "We're looking for something really specific this year, much different from last year, so we're going to have to let you go." In other words, "YOU'RE NOT GOOD/CUTE/WEIRD/ASIAN/BLONDE ENOUGH." Ha ha.

So we laughed and kissed our dreams of fame goodbye and went home.

Living Room Picnics

Okay, if you have young kids and you've never done this, you're missing out. I'm not sure what is so exciting about eating dinner on a blanket on the living room floor, but Taylen thinks it's quite fun. Here's a picture from our Orange and Blue picnic...complete with macaroni and cheese, carrots and ranch, and blue cups and spoons. Good times, people.

Finally Pictures

It's been a while since I posted any pictures, so here are a few random ones from the 4th of July and planting some flowers. Nothing too exciting, but Taylen is pretty cute :)

Have I ever mentioned how mature I am?

Let's get one thing straight...

The other day Taylen was ridiculously low on sleep (which means she was a cranky nightmare). She was being a bit of a stinker and I said, "You're being so cranky, you must be pretty tired."

She folded her arms, looked right at me and said,

"I'm not cranky. I'm just a brat."

Well, I'm glad we got that cleared up.

Good morning, sunshine.

So this morning I was sleeping and Taylen came in to wake me up and told me,

"I'm pregnant, mom."

And I thought...how long have I been asleep?!?

I WANT I WANT I WANT...

So, I REALLY want a new digital camera. A nice one. I've just got a little one that I've had for 3 years, and the battery always falls out and it's all scratched up, and it's just getting to be time for a new one. Having nice pictures is important to me, because one day that's all I'll have to remember how sweet my girls are right now.

I obviously don't have tons of extra money for a super nice camera, but I'm willing to sacrifice a little so I can get one. I think I might ask my relatives to pitch in to a "Nikki's Camera Fund" for Christmas instead of gifts. And I know Christmas is far away, but I'm starting my research early.

So, for all of you out there who have nice cameras (Jenny MorphDorph, Cathi, Chantri, and I'm sure there are more of you)--what kind of camera do you have, and what are the pros and cons? I want one that's got a good auto setting so I can use that while I learn the other stuff. But eventually I would love to be able to set it manually and use different lenses and things.

Give me the goods. Let's hear it.

Just an FYI

I am going to start posting all my random stories, thoughts, quotes and other stuff on my Have Joy blog. This (Crandalicious) blog will have pictures, stats, and stories about my kids...which are probably more boring to everyone, and mostly will satisfy the grandparent/great grandparent/aunt/uncle craving for my kids. I am going to be making Crandalicious private soon, so if you would like an invite, please email me at havejoy@ymail.com from the email address you would like me to add (or leave a comment on this post with your email address). I will be adding family, friends, and even friends of friends (if you're really that interested :). I will add you even if I don't know you personally, I just want to keep better tabs on who is looking at this (Crandalicious) blog. Have Joy will remain public so anyone and everyone can look at it. So that's that! Get in the habit of checking Have Joy for the deep (and not so deep) Nikki thoughts, and Crandalicious for the kid updates. Sound good?

My New Boyfriend (Bachelorette References Ahead)

Okay, people. Jason is hot. DeAnna is freaking stupid. She could have had the beautiful, hot, stable, hot, safe, hot, romantic, hot, reliable, hot Jason. Plus he's kind of good looking. Instead she chose the shaggy headed, crooked nosed, pink shoe laced goober snow boarder Jesse.

WHAT?! Are you kidding me?!?!

Luckily for Jason I have been studying the home-town date footage and have pretty much narrowed down where his house is. Now I need to come up with a non-stalker explanation for why I'm standing on his doorstep wearing a wedding dress. Suggestions welcomed.

So me and Brooke are sitting in intense anticipation of some heartbreak during the finale. All is quiet in the house (except for me pausing the tv every five minutes to make some obnoxious comment about DeAnna's dress, or Jesse's obscenely crooked nose, or Jason's hot body...I can thank my mother for that endearing characteristic of mine. And when I say "endearing," I mean "I'm lucky Brooke hasn't stabbed me with the remote control," which doesn't seem like it would hurt...but it probably would. Think about it).

So, I'm eating some leftover breadsticks from Little Ceasar's, and Brooke is dipping some buttered toast in hot chocolate, despite the fact that it's literally been ONE THOUSAND degrees here. Literally. She makes some obnoxious comment about how my breadsticks smell like body funk, so we proceed to call them "Fart Sticks" the rest of the evening. *Warning: If you are mature, you might not belong here. Just a thought.*

So, I've got my Fart Sticks (which are delish, by the way) and Brooke's dipping her toast, and out of nowhere she makes this animal-like noise...like, from the throat...gluttoral? guttoral? I have no idea what I'm saying. But it's a weird noise. I look over and she's looking in horror at her toast, her face distorted with disgust. She starts to tell me that the butter...(gag)...smells like...(gag)...butt...(gag)...

She is literally dry heaving. Literally.

At this point I am curled in a tiny ball on the couch, trying not to pee my pants or choke on my Fart Sticks, which takes a lot of concentration. Especially since tears are streaming down my face because I'm laughing so hard.

Brooke is still dry heaving. It's pretty awesome.

We finally semi-compose ourselves, and Brooke makes this genius suggestion, "You have got to smell this."

Let's see. On my list of 5 things I want to do today are:
1. Get salmonella from some rotten tomatos.
2. Jab a very sharp pencil way up my nose.
3. Eat tic tacs that this dude gave me (click to see it bigger if you can't read it):


4. Watch hours and hours of the Tyra Skanks show
5. Jury Duty
6. Take a big whiff of involuntary gag-inducing butter that smells like feet.


Oh darn! The butter sniffing didn't quite make the top 5...too bad.

Unfortunately, Brooke wasn't about to let me get away without experiencing the dry heaving pleasure she was privy to. So, she pinned me on the couch, and literally rubbed the nasty butter /slash/crap all over my face and up my nose. As if it's not disgusting enough to have butter smeared everywhere, the fact that it literally smelled like dead cat made it even less pleasant. Literally.

Seriously, words cannot express oh how awful twas the smell.

So there we were, both of us laughing, crying, and dry heaving at the same time. Oh, and trying not to choke on Fart Sticks. And it totally ruined the whole Bachelorette I'm a Stupid Immature Girl Who Thinks She's In Love thing.

But it was pretty freaking funny.
::Sigh of contentment::

Introducing:

Have Joy

Click above to view my new blog!

Don't forget to leave me a comment to let me know what you think...

Cookie Book

So my mom brought us a new book last week when she was here, and it has quickly become one of Tay's favorites--Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar? We have read it every night for at least a week. So tonight Taylen is ready for bed, and I ask her if she wants to read the Cookie Book again tonight, and she says,

"Yeah. That book makes me so sweaty."

What?! hahah...ya gotta love the three year olds.

Crazy is hereditary:

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