The One With the Dream House

What a lot of great guesses I got about my secret ingredient. Most of those things go in most of my food. Cherie was maybe closest. DK and Cambria gave clues, but as they know the real answer, they were nice enough not to give it away. The real secret ingredient is DANGER. A little too much of everything. Pieces of finger cut off with my razor-sharp Cutco knives… batter spilling (or spraying) out of bowls. It gives everything a little zing. That, and Cholula. Thank you for playing. Now I have to get down to the business at hand, which is some very dangerous cooking for 400 guests tomorrow night. Have you ever even seen a 22-pound beef roast? It is not pretty, in its uncooked state. But I need to put that all out of my mind for a minute, and tell you about the dream house.

Skippy and I had an important brainstorming session today. It actually started when we were driving the other day, and Skippy asked me: “Mama, do you love me more than you love Dillon?” So I said, “Why, of course I do, buddy. I love you more than anything.” (Dillon was a little insulted by that—haha!). So today I told Skippy that even if someone offered me a million… no, $50 million dollars, that I would still not trade him.

His reply was, “What if they offered $50 million plus a house and car that was just for you?” Now you’re talking, Skip… Well, long story short we started escalating this imaginary offer, and in the process, came up with a fairly amazing dream house package. We actually never got around to the car. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t care less about cars. This is the dream house: First of all, it overlooks the ocean, with a nice little trail that leads down to a pristine private beach. But the real prize is the house itself, because it has been custom-designed with special rooms for many different tastes and purposes. Among those? There is a music room, of course. But this music room houses a rock band and a symphony orchestra, who are all on-call 24/7. There is an M&M room. It is obviously filled, hip-deep, with M&Ms candies.

There is a Mariachi room. Open the door, and you are greeted by a private mariachi band, every imaginable kind of taco, and virgin margaritas. There is a Missionary Room. This one has a foosball table, ping pong, laundry service, and a living room set up in which there is always a family waiting to hear more lessons. I thought this was funny: I asked Skippy, “How about a movie theater?” He laughed, and said, “You can’t put a movie theater in a house!” I found it interesting that he thought a Mariachi room made sense, but not a movie theater... especially since we live a quarter mile from Coto de Caza, where half the houses have something resembling a movie theater. In our dream house there is also a full basketball court, and on the roof, a swimming pool. Skippy says there is good news and bad news about that. First the bad news: you could fall off. The good news? There is a swimming pool on your roof! And my personal favorite… the maid’s quarters…

So what room would be in your dream house?

The One With the Baby Dream

you are
floating, drifting, lazing
in the perfectly not-quite-quiet
twitching, sucking, whimpering
without once waking
tell me
baby
what do you dream?

The One Where He Cut Her Up Into Tiny Pieces

In this episode, friend and former missionary Rob made a cameo appearance, in which he cut me all up into really tiny pieces, so everybody could have some. We were at roadshow practice, and he was wielding my biggest, sharpest Cutco knife. Okay, so it wasn’t real life, but a dream sequence (at least I think it was a dream sequence). I remember thinking it was great because everyone I know was there. Even Steve Young, the quarterback, and Rudy Giuliani, although I really don’t know them personally. But they were there anyway, each to get his little piece. There was a lion, beautiful and terrifying. Fortunately, there was no blood, because Ruth was there, and she can’t stand so much as the thought of blood (remember the baby finger?). Oh! And the whole event was catered by Golden Spoon…yay! Free frozen yogurt for all. They even brought toppings.

Now, so far, everything I’ve told you makes perfect sense, right? But there were a couple weird things about the dream. First of all, I arrived to the practice on a tractor. I’m not gonna lie…I’ve always kind of liked that burned-diesel smell. But parking it was sort of awkward, mostly because (and I’m embarrassed to admit this) I never got all that good at driving a stick… and I’m not even going to try to figure out why I was dressed like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. I have never been a pigtail or braid fan. Or Judy Garland. Or those freaky flying monkeys. But I did love driving a tractor with my dad when I was ten years old. And did I mention that roadshow practice went really, really great? We didn’t even need the sheriff’s deputies, who (again, I don't know why) were all standing by, guns drawn, just in case. So all in all, not a bad night’s work.

The photo was taken before I was hacked up into a million little pieces.

The One Where She's a Genius in Her Dreams

When I take photos of someone, I fall in love with them a little bit. Maybe all the way, because in order to take good photos, I have to see the beauty in a person, and in the course of doing that, it seems that they become more and more attractive with each photo. Lynda and Allen are no exception. I took pictures for their 50th wedding anniversary, and I just finished all the color correction in Photoshop.

That is probably why I had this weird dream last night. In the dream, I invented something truly revolutionary. I keep a notepad and pencil by my bed for just such occasions. So this morning I scrambled to find the notepad. Did I remember to write it down? Yes, I did. Two words: Photoshop Makeup.

Apparently I invented a makeup kit that contains a set of tools very similar to those found in Photoshop. How awesome is that? In my dream, I was out in public after having used almost the entire arsenal of Photoshop makeup tools. I used the smudge tool to smooth out that little vertical wrinkle I have above my right eyebrow. I whitened my teeth using the dodge tool. I lengthened and added hair, using the rubber stamp tool. I used the burn tool to darken my eyebrows and eye makeup, and I made my eyes just a little bit more blue, using the paint bucket.

I was talking to a friend, and she kept staring at a spot somewhere just above my eyes. I finally asked what she was staring at, and she told me that there must be something wrong with her eyes, because every time she looked at my forehead, her vision was blurry. Dang. I should have used the clone tool instead of the smudge tool. Oh well. Thank goodness for undo. Maybe I should just use the airbrush on everything. Then no matter how close someone gets, I will still seem a little aloof and unattainable. Who doesn't want that?

Photoshop Makeup. Recommended for professionals only. Please use responsibly.