RTM

I'm studying on the bed. Anna is asleep. She has worked 32 hours in the last 24 hours and is exhausted. As I just glanced at her I noticed that she is in deep REM. But her little toes are twitching up and down just as fast as her eyes are scrolling left to right. Anna has a case of Rapid Toe Movement (RTM).

Am I rubbing off?

I've always been the clutzy one, from awkward injuries to gravity issues, I'm pretty much the epitome of accident prone. I've been pretty good about accepting it--even embracing it. But I have a new struggle: I think it's rubbing off on my husband!
Tuesday I got out of class to a phone call from Spencer, saying, "Hun, I lit the apartment on fire." Turns out he had wanted to make a sheet cake. He thought a "sheet cake" must be baked in a cookie sheet. So he mixed up not one, but TWO boxes of cake batter, dumped them into a cookie sheet and put it in the oven. Of course, as the batter baked, it rose and dripped all over the bottom of the oven, eventually catching fire! With smoke pouring out of the apartment and the alarms going off like crazy, neighbors gathered around to see what the big deal was. I came home to Spencer scraping the bottom of the oven (he offered me the pieces of what he scraped off, sweet thing) and a masses of black strewn through the kitchen (frosted). It was too cute...A for effort/for not burning down the whole apartment/for cleaning it up/and for letting me be the onlooker, rather than victim, for once!

Genius Bar

This morning I noticed a crack on my macbook casing. It was an open wound, awaiting the next spill of diet coke. I told Anna about a protection plan I purchased with the original transaction over a year and a half ago. You know that feeling you get when you want everyone to feel exactly how you feel at that moment? That was the urge I felt, and still feel, when I calmly rode my bike up Campbell Avenue against "red flag" wind (I'm not familiar with this weather term, but the Tucson weathermen use it often) to the Apple Store. I walked in, straight back to the Genius Bar and handed my laptop over with nothing more than my name. No ID required. No proof of purchase required. Just a body, computer, name, and time to pick up. To make a long story short, which is what Apple is so good at in the first place, my laptop is back on my lap. All of this, hassle free, in one afternoon. Actually, I don't want everyone to feel how I feel at this moment, because all the mac users feel this way all the time anyway, but it makes me kind of want to create a home video of the experience and send it to Dell Corporation Customer Service. Why the rage? Just ask Anna how much fun we had setting up her new Dell these past few weeks. Sorry, I have to go now and figure out how to run "Activex" so I can get rid of the nagging fear that Anna's Dell is under constant threat of a virus. If that were a wise virus, however, it would house itself as far away from a Dell as possible because at any given moment that house of a laptop might go flying off a third-story balcony. Happy April Fools!!

Gary Larson in real life

Reported on the NY Times Health section today:

Repercussions for Sleeping Surgeon

A plastic surgeon at Boston's Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center fell asleep during surgery last June, and no senior hospital administrators interfered even though a nurse reported the doctor's erratic behavior, a Massachusetts health department investigation of the case found. The Boston Globe says the hospital has fired the surgeon, Dr. Loren J. Borud, and the state has temporarily suspended his license.

The Chronicles of Sleep

I fell asleep early Sunday night, even before Anna returned home from work. I fell asleep reading, The Magician's Nephew. I finished the chapter following Polly and Digory into the In Between Forest, a place of transition. There was something about the CS Lewis magic of worldy transport that invaded into my personal rest. I fell asleep on the right side of the bed, where the reading lamp is located. I noticed Anna crawl into bed during the night on the left side of the bed. When I woke up, I was on the left side of the bed and she was on the right. She claims I gradually pushed her off the bed with my migratory sleeping habits, but I think Lewis had something to do with this...

We're going on a pigeon hunt...

This weekend Anna and I chilled, literally, up in Heber, AZ. We spent a fun weekend with four other couples in the ward playing games, shooting guns, collecting pottery (to Anna's delight) and laughing a lot. We stayed at a nice spread of fifty-five acres with two cabins. Each couple had their own room. On one morning Anna and I awoke to watch a sunrise from a treehouse. We went for a run in the forest after that and came home to make pancakes and omeletes for the crew. I thought the highlight, though, was on Sunday. We attended the Heber Stake Conference and listened to an excellent talk by a Seventy. He is from Japan. His father was killed by U.S. Submarines. When he was nine, missionaries contacted him and bore testimony of the Gospel. Expecting to feel malice for these Americans, he felt nothing but love from the Elders and was converted to the Church and has since been engaged in life-long service. He encouraged the Saints up in Snowflake to serve in the temple so much it would have to remain open 24 hours. I love pine trees...

When we were kings...

We all know sleep is a precious commodity. When inactive, because of sleep, we run around in REM, dreams, and restroom breaks. It's a wonderful rhythm; a dance of serenity. I feel, when you have the power to sleep, you can live the life of royalty. Outside forces no longer determine your mood, activity, or choices. The power now comes from within. Unless, of course, you have yielded this power through the act of marriage :) Please don't misunderstand, I think marriage is a celestial arrangement. But it still comes with sacrifice. Last night, during a peaceful slumber, Anna embarked on a restroom break. Upon her return, she tucked into bed and threw a right with her elbow, landing it directly on the forehead. I could hear the crowd yell outside the rings. Not to be outdone, I went in with MY right to stroke her hair and accidently jabbed her in the eye. With two thuds, we both fell down like potatoes, with the sounds of the crowd giving way eventually to our royal realm of sleep. The experience reminded me of one of the best documentaries ever produced. Entitled, "When we were Kings," it follows the famous Ali/Foreman fight in Africa. It's a story of courage, faith, and brute strength. Just as Foreman is replacing Ali as the world's premier heavyweight, Ali stages one more defiant stance, even though most writers already cast him into the sunset. He trains on a foundation of faith in his God, and faith in the people of Africa. If Field of dreams brought you an inch closer to the tissue box, this will bring you two inches closer. Here's a link to a clip from the documentary:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N44vdCqI7LI

While amazing, the fight is not as intriguing as the story leading up to it in the documentary. It's worth your time, if you have any.