Sniff... sniff...

I've always been amazed by the phenomenon of odor memory. (Eew, I hate that o-word. It sounds awkward.) Isn't it weird how just a whiff of a certain smell can trigger memories out of nowhere? Freaky...

For instance, smelling pineapple body lotion makes me think of middle school, and thus makes me feel a little bit sick. I'm not kidding.

The smell of Aussie hair spray makes me think of my senior prom.

The scent of Lysol makes me feel nauseous, since that's what my parents always doused the bathroom with after one of us kiddles was sick... Yuck.

Biosilk Silk Therapy reminds me of my first real salon hair cut... OH GLORY.

Bug spray makes me think of family trips to Yellowstone.

Ginger will forever remind me of my momma and all of her yummy Chinese cooking.

Burned popcorn takes me back to that one time.... It was almost Christmas.... The apartment was filled with smoke.... They were laughing at me.... Yeah.

The sumptuous scent of Cafe Rio tortillas reminds me of... ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THIS WORLD.

Isn't it crazy how powerful our senses can be? Awesome. By the way, I totally did a science project on olfactory memory in 9th grade. My biology teacher thought it was bomb dot com, of course. Booyah! Actually, the project probably stunk (haha, that's punny), since I did it all in the four days before the science fair. Hmm, typical me. Nothing can compare to the famous Acupuncture Science Project of 8th grade, though. Wow, what a night that was. Aaaaaand, apparently I have gotten off track. Are there any smells that bring up fond/horrible memories for YOU, blog friends?

Quirky McQuirkles

People are weird. More specifically, I am weird. Before you all start thinking this is a self-hatred/I-hate-humanity post, let me 'splain.

Think about your life for a minute. When you wake up in the morning, what is the first thing that pops into your head? (This morning, the first thing that popped into my head was the word "oscillate.") When you take a shower, do you have a routine you go through - shampoo first, condition second, body wash third, then rinse, then blah blah blah - or do you bathe "at random?" When you put your pants on, which leg goes in first--your right or your left? When you get in your car, do you put your keys in the ignition before or after you put on your seat belt? Do you prefer a certain color of M&M over the other colors?

See? We all have strange little routines, rituals, and slightly obsessive preferences, sometimes without even realizing they exist. My theory is that we do things a certain way because we need some smidgen of familiarity in our crazy lives. Think about the children's TV show "Mister Roger's Neighborhood" for a minute. Every time Mr. Rogers walks into that cute little house, he does the same thing. He hangs up his suit coat the same way, zips his sweater the same way, takes off his shoes the same way, etc. every single day. As a child, that was one of my favorite parts of the show. I could always guess what was coming, and it made me feel secure. We all have the same type of methods that, possibly, we use as methods of "grounding" ourselves. (I mean "grounding" in a good way, not the "You are definitely NOT going to any birthday parties for two months, young lady" kind of way.) Just for fun, I'll list some of my quirks. Feel free to do the same in a comment or on your own blog. Don't be ashamed of your quirks! Nay, rather, embrace the cute little quirklings.

• When I look at myself in the mirror, I get a little bit of a glare on my face. See picture for example, if you dare. I'm not sure why I do it. It makes me feel... hotter, I guess? I dunno. At this point, it's a reflex to look at myself that way. Odd!!
• I have recently formed the habit of using the word "monkey" in the place of random adjectives/nouns/verbs. Examples: "What kind of monkey is this dumb store? They don't sell cinnamon bears!" "What the monkey! That car just cut me off!"
• When I sit down to play around on the piano, I always start playing in the key of D major. That be my favorite key.
• I pop my neck a lot (gross, yeah), and I always turn my head right first, then left.
• I bounce my legs up and down when I sit at a desk. This one probably bothers other people, but it sure as monkey doesn't bother me, cuz it probably burns, like, extra calories or something.
• I hate it when men wear sweatpants. Track pants=whateva', but the sweat pants=please don't. I don't know why this bugs me, so don't ask me why... I'm not even sure I want to discover the answer to that question.
• I don't like cheesecake (GASP!! from the crowd). Yeah, I know. Whatever.
• When I eat goldfish crackers, I like to bite them in half along the little "seam" thingy. Then I have two little goldfish that are like separated Siamese twins! Yay! I do the same thing with peanuts, and sometimes almonds. Also, when I eat cinnamon bears, I always bite the head off first. Then they can't feel any pain as I consume them.
• I used to love the band Snow Patrol, but I can't listen to them anymore because hearing their songs reminds me of middle school. Ick.
• I like green and blue M&Ms the best. I swear they taste better than the others! (The brown ones should die.)
• I always fill up my water bottle at the same sink in my house. The other sinks probably have germies or something. (Jk, they don't, but the water from the small sink in the kitchen is so much prettier/more tasty/more awesome/more drinkable than the water from the other sinks.)

Anyway, that's probably a long enough list to make you all think I'm a freak show. I am okay with that. I like quirks. I think they are quirktastic. The end.

Holy week of ferocity, Batman!

My parents are back from Hawaii! Woohoo! They have been in Hawaii for the past week for their 20th anniversary vacation, which is totally cool. Staying married to the same person, and very happily at that, for 20 years can definitely be considered an accomplishment in today's world. Go padres! Anyway, it was my responsibility and pleasure (ahem) to be in charge of the sibs and the house while my parents were gone. When the week started, I thought, "Psh, this ain't no thang! I've already lived on my own and cooked and cleaned and whatnot. This will be a buh-reeze." Hmm.... Well, things didn't come quite that easily. Here are a few highlights from the week.

Monday

• went running, came back, dropped the padres off at the airport (where my mom totally saw David Archuleta!)
• successfully drove Dad's car home without crashing it
• cleaned the bathroom and kitchen
  
• made dinner, even gave an FHE lesson Woot! Go Crofty. You've GOT this, girl!
• FREAKED OUT about checking the locks on the house, couldn't fall asleep for fear of hostile criminals breaking in

Tuesday

• I went to the gym at 5 am, worked out, then found that my cell phone had somehow fallen into pieces and was now useless. AWESOME.
  
• found and successfully purchased the Ugliest and Worst Phone Ever Made from an old guy for $30 (this is a very temporary replacement phone)
• cleaned the kitchen like, 30 times. Come on people! Let's try to be tidy!
  
• I made BLT pizza, but somehow forgot to put cheese on it. HUH?! Umm... oh well. Less saturated fat for the siblings.
• Sleepless night... checked the locks every two hours or so
  

Wednesday

• successfully went running again
• successfully rescued foolish brother who locked his keys in his car
• went to see Up (such a good movie!) at the theatre with sibs, fed them way too many Twizzlers
• Dropped the ball on dinner, since we were full of Twizzlers anyway. Yay, leftovers!
  
• severe anxiety about break-ins once more
  

Thursday

• went to the gym at 5 am sharp
• sat through a 2.5 hour meeting at the place where I volunteer
• vacuumed, scrubbed, swept
  
• went to the movies with the sibs again (HP6 this time), fed them way too many Twizzlers
• dropped the ball on dinner... again. Sibs and I had sandwiches and leftovers.
  

Friday

• I went for a really good run. I'm gettin' stronger, yo.
• Umm, totally cleaned the whole house. Woot.
• drove sibs around to various frivilous activities
  
• Made some really yummo parmesan ranch chicken for dinner, and the sibs gobbled it up.

Saturday

• went for a short run (yeah, I know, all my runs are short)
• took the sibs to buy tennis balls and go to the park, where the sibs overheated in about 30 minutes
• successfully purchased a bed sheet to replace the one that I somehow shredded in my sleep (maybe I'll blog about that later)
• hung out with the bestie for like, 90 minutes, drove her home
• successfully went to dinner at my uncle's house (yummo enchiladas + relaxed conversation = love)

Sunday

• woke up absolutely giddy to see the padres
• successfuly drove to the airport without crashing or getting lost or getting pulled over (ahem, Derek)
• joyous reunion with the padres, went to church and chilled with the whole happy fam

What lovely adventures, right? Don't fret, there was a lot more that happened (oh boy was there more that happened), but I feel like I've already made this a long post. Umm, so keeping track of four sibs is a lot harder than keeping track of yourself, and cleaning a whole house is a lot harder than cleaning a teeny apartment (especially when the sibs are factored in). I can't believe my parents have been doing this for 19 years straight. Seriously. I learned this week that we kids have nothing to worry about because our parents have everything to worry about. Anyway, this week will probably go on my list of Best Weeks, not because it was easy or relaxing, but because it was memorable. And I'm glad my parents got to escape to paradise, because they totally deserve such a treat. Love you guys. :) (And yes, siblings, you can have some lovin' too. Thanks for not being demons this week.)

Creepy, crawly hypocrite

Yesterday afternoon, as I stared out my bedroom window, I noticed a spider sitting quietly on the glass. Upon closer inspection, and after screaming a little bit, I discovered that the spider was sitting on its web, which was located on the outside of the glass. Phew. Close call. No screaming necessary. I decided that it was safe to look at the spider up-close, since we were separated by a sturdy pane of glass. I noticed that the spider was actually in the process of constructing its neat little web, and i got to see it work its natural magic. The little creature spiraled around and around its growing web, all the while creating and distributing silken thread, weaving it into a geometrically perfect pattern. Amazing!

I took a few pictures of the process, but unfortunately, you can't see the web in them. All you can see is a spider that looks like it's floating in the air, since the pictures were taken through the window glass. Here's one of the shots I took. (You'll have to look closely for the little critter in this one. Some people get the jitters even when looking at a picture of a spider, so I'm not posting any close-ups.) And yes, I know I'm not a great photographer and this is not a good picture. I am okay with that.

Anyway, my sense of wonder was reawakened for a few minutes. I think I might have even stopped to consider the beauty of all living creatures, great and small, before continuing with the rest of my day. Hmm. That's not normal for me.

This morning, as I made my bed, I happened to glance up at the window and see my arachnid friend once again. A tiny smile probably (maybe...) graced my lips as I thought about how talented that little creature was. I shook the wrinkles out of my blanket and prepared to fold it, when I felt something land on my foot. I looked down and saw that a FREAKING SPIDER was crawling across my toes, racing for the safety of the shadows under my bed. I yelled/shrieked "HAI-YAH!!!" and smashed it with a paper towel. "HA!" I threw the nasty carcass away triumphantly. (I normally don't kill spiders. This isn't because I love them or anything, obviously. It's more that I'm usually to freaked out to get close enough to squoosh them. I guess adrenaline took over in this case.)

A few seconds later, I was startled by the horrible realization that I am the walking, talking definition of hypocrisy. One afternoon I'm admiring the beauty of a spider's instinctive creativity, and then the next morning I'm smashing its sista' with a disposable towel? What the flip, Crofty?! How can I lack so much compassion? How can I live like that? What changed so drastically from one day to the next that would cause me to transform from a curious, appreciative human being into a creature-killing monster? What made spider #2 so deserving of death, and what made spider #1 the object of an amateur artistic photo shoot?

I'll tell you what made those spiders what they were.... Spider #2 freaking touched my foot and spider #1 stayed outside where it belongs. That's it.

**This post was probably offensive to people who really like spiders/other animals. Sorry. But I'm really not bloodthirsty. I cried when my brothers caught a fish at the lake and tried to convince me to eat it for lunch. Spiders are just... nasty. And that is my shallow rationalization. The end.**

Run, ninja, run!

There are several people in my family who really like to run. I am not one of those family members... not yet, anyway. My parents, however, run several times a week, and for LONG distances. They're both in really great shape. My younger brother, Derek, runs 6 days a week, usually twice a day, and for even LONGER distances. Check out his blog to see how passionate he is about running. If you're like me--that is, not a runner--then hearing about how great my parents and brother are has just made you think to yourself, "Self, you should really go out for a jog or something so you look less pitiful compared to these running fiends. Maybe then you will understand the insanity behind peoples' obsession with running. And then maybe you will get a smokin' hot bod. Also, maybe you will become rich."

I do work out every day, so I'm used to physical exertion, but I usually do weight training and alternative methods of cardio--elliptical, aerobics, kickboxing, calisthenics, etc. I might actually say that I'm in decent shape. I've got some muscle.... (Yes, you can all start lining up for tickets to the gun show, cuz there's plenty to go around! Woooo!!) Cross-training is really important, though, so that gives me at least one good reason to start running. Anyway, last night, I told myself that I would get up this morning and go for a run, no matter how much my little brain likes to gripe about how disgusting running is. (I think I've been to too many cross country and track meets to see running as something graceful... There are SO many different body fluids all over the ground by the end of a meet that I hesitate to attempt a description for fear of grossing you all out.) Here's the surprising thing--I actually got up and ran this morning! Nuts! Maybe I do have a little self-discipline after all.

Anyway, all of you running people are going to laugh at my sorry attempt at athleticism, but I will describe my run regardless of my pitifulness. (Is that a word?) I ran for about 1.5 miles (I know it's pitiful--you can stop laughing!), and I actually didn't have to stop and walk. Amazing! The last time I "started running" after a period of inactivity, I could only go, umm... a quarter of a mile without feeling like I wanted to lie down on the ground and donate my running shoes to Deseret Industries, so I was quite surprised at how far I went this morning. I guess all of the weight training and cardio that I've been doing this summer has helped my overall fitness, even if I'm not in "running shape." I realize now that I probably should have kept going--I theorize that you only get stronger if you're out of your comfort zone by a wide margin--and I should have timed myself. Oh well.

Now that I realize that running is not that scary, and is only slightly disgusting, I think I can motivate myself to run a few times a week. I won't run on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I love my weight training class too much to give it up, and I'm definitely too wiped out after that class to even think about running. My goal, at least for now, is 6 miles a week. Stop laughing! That's a lot for me, okay?!?! I've publicly announced this goal so that I won't be able to avoid accomplishing it. (Speaking of publishing goals, I'll publish another one so I make sure to get it done.... I am getting my hair cut sometime next week. There.)

So, there you have it. I am not a running ninja like my brother or my padres, but I am workin' on it. Running updates (most of which will probably be hilarious) will follow.

Oh, how I've missed thee, blog. Actually, not so much.

Well, it appears that I haven't updated my blog in a while. Oops. I suppose my only excuse for not posting is that I just haven't really... cared. Sorry if that's offensive to anyone who is super in love with blogging. I like blogging, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I prefer real life and a handwritten journal. But FRET NOT, because you'll keep hearing from me. I know you were all SUPER concerned that this was a goodbye post, but it's not. Your bloggy lives can remain safe and sound under the watchful eye of jCroft(y). (P.S. - this blog needs a different name. "jCroft(y)" just doesn't cut it. Suggestions are welcome. Perhaps I shall even create a cute little poll so you can vote on a new blog name. Woohoo!)

Umm... I should probably report some stuff since I'm updating. I guess my latest news is that I am officially a volunteer for LifePath, which is a hospice service. My job as a volunteer will be to provide companionship/support for hospice patients. Most of the patients have six months or less to live, so the hospice services help to make them as comfortable as possible before they pass away. I'll mostly be sitting and talking with the patients, reading to them, helping them record life histories, and helping them be aware of and express their emotions as they go through the dying process. I know, it sounds like pretty heavy stuff, but I'm really looking forward to working with the patients. I think it'll be a very unique and sacred experience, and hopefully I'll be able to help these individuals in some small way.

Anyway, I guess that's about it. Hopefully this post will get me back into the bloggy mood. Hasta luego, bloggy pals.

Book Review - The Memory Keeper's Daughter

It's time for another book review! And this is review of a (dramatic pause)... NOVEL! Yes, it's true, I finally read a novel! This book actually made the transition quite easy. Usually (or at least lately) when I pick up a novel, I become bored by the end of the second chapter and I just can't force myself to continue past the plot exposition. With Kim Edwards' The Memory Keeper's Daughter, however, I found that I could slip easily into the story. In fact, I found the novel quite absorbing, and read it--quite literally--straight through without putting it down. (Yes, I did have WAY too much free time on my hands. It's summer. Gimme a break.)

The Memory Keeper's Daughter tells the stories of the members of an American family. The family starts the way a "normal" American family does--David and Norah Henry are completely in love, and they both follow their roles with exactness. David is a doctor, Norah is a dutiful 1960s wife, and both are wonderfully excited for the birth of their first child. However, when Norah delivers twins--a healthy, normal little boy and a little girl who has Down Syndrome--things change. Devastated and scared, David makes a split-second decision to hide the truth about his daughter. He whisks her away and places her in the care of a nurse, simultaneously telling his wife that their daughter was stillborn. Thus, in a single moment, a family is broken apart, and the beginnings of a complex web of secrets and lies are formed. David and Norah's daughter, Phoebe, is raised by the nurse, Caroline, while their son, Paul, grows up at home, in the shadow of a complicated and problematic marriage.

I can happily say that I enjoyed reading this book. Kim Edwards' narrative voice is both comfortable and poetic. (BONUS!) The book is written in episodic format, and follows the members of the Henry family through the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Edwards quite successfully switches her narrative point of view between Henry, Norah, Caroline and Paul, thus allowing well-rounded character development. The character development is the strong point of the novel, in my opinion. The most beautiful moments in the novel are the moments in which the characters think to themselves and the real issues of the story are brought out, at times with gorgeous imagery and voice, without overuse of the dramatic plot structure.

The storyline was generally good, but faded to so-so in many parts. While the complexity of David's decision to give up his daughter and lie to his wife and son--and to everyone else--is intriguing, the drama that happens within the Henry household seems to be pretty soap opera-ish. Unimaginative love affairs, a painfully typical angst-y teenage son, and the husband/father-who-looks-so-successful-but-is-just-never-there all combine to create the appearance of a cookie-cutter family drama. However, the parts of the plot that involve Phoebe and her adoptive mother, Caroline, are very original and engaging.

Overall, I would give this book 4 out of 5 stars. Some of those points come from the simple fact that I was able to stay interested through the whole book. Like I said, after a couple of years of reading non-fiction (behavioral economics, psychology, sociology, gender issues, other nerdy stuff, etc.) almost exclusively, novels have left me wanting as of late. This makes me very sad, as my nerdy, bookish self really loves a good novel. The Memory Keeper's Daughter, however, was a nice intro back into the world of fiction. Hopefully I'll come across some more good novels in the near future.