Captain Nerdy One Liner

This is his I'm weird and uncomfortable face.
Let me introduce you to someone who is awesome: David Michael Hunt (insert cheesy expressions of love and tenderness).
Our dates since November include fantastical journeys of sidewalk chalk, Supernatural, board games, D.I. adventures, cartoons, walks and overall goodness.  Laughter is a pretty big part of our relationship, due to Dave's amusing statements and cheesy one liners.
Good example: last night while draping his arm around me and flipping over to Supernatural Season 3, he made a joke about his super nerdy joys, Battlestar Gallactica.  Then he turned to me and said, "Michelle, I'm like your Battlestar Gallactica Captain."
I guess that makes me the hot robot...I'll take it.


Evening Adventures

African tundras with spotted giraffes and gorillas swinging through the vines are very adventurous sights.
I'm not likely to witness any of those things and when I feel an adventure coming; it's best not to fight it. Adventurous feelings create a slight problem due to my wonderful evening work schedule. There's not a lot to do at 11pm at night and it's really the only time I have to spend with Dave.

My favorite chalk drawing that pointed me out
So when these "urges" hit, I don't think of petting a wild animal or running through a forest when I feel adventurous. I think of sidewalk chalk and balloons.
The first night we attacked Derrick's house with sidewalk chalk. We tagged it with Gumby, superheroes, a robot Santa and complaints about the lack of Diet Coke with Lime.  We even left the chalk so Nathan could color too.  Christine called the next day with a long awkward pause, "Dd you by chance chalk up my driveway last night? There's a giant bat-symbol on the driveway and I thought of you."

As you can see at Dennis' there was some serious rain and it was freezing! 
  Dennis & Tina was clearly next, despite the long Tooele drive.  It doesn't matter if the drive was only ten minutes, Tooele is a long and awful drive.  We had every intention of stuffing the doorway with balloons so when the door was opened all of the balloons would fall inside (like an awesome party).  The weather disagreed and a freezing bitter windblown rain started up, preventing anything from sticking. So instead, I spiced up the stairway with some balloonage. 

It was pretty cool to do it anonymously but in the end both parties figured out the instigator. Derrick and Christine by the giant bat-symbol and Dennis and Tina by watching my out the window (I can't believe I missed that). 
:) Best part: hanging out with Dave-a-roo, doing random things at midnight that make no sense.


I Survived a Horror Movie

 I say that I am both cursed and lucky for my ability to recall my dreams. Today, I say unlucky. I was part of a real life horror movie.  Dave and I were on a cross-country Greyhound bus, headed for Oklahoma for a family party. Word traveled through the bus that the stretch of road had a string of murders from a transient serial killer.
He killed his victims by tying them to a fence, ripping the back of the shirt open and attaching car starting cables to their back and a car battery.  He also had a habit of dressing their fronts in priest-like robes.
When Dave told me in his sarcastic voice, I laughed. There was no way this was going to happen to us, we were on a very safe and newer bus.
Just like in a horror movie, right after I said that the bus broke down.  Images flash as we walk in the snow, looking at the empty fields and lines of fences.  I can see passengers of the bus in front of me and behind me but pretty quickly they spread out by walking pace.  Then I noticed some of the passengers popping up in the distance on fences with the cables pinching their backs and shoulder blades.
I looked at Dave sideways and caught his blue eyes.  I knew that in horror movie only one person typically survives. I tried to tell him this time we would both survive, but I knew Dave was going to be next on the cable killer's list.
We kept walking, stopping at a cute, abandoned house. I tried not to think of the owners potentially tied with wire to a fence.  We started out in big rooms in the house, but I knew the killer was looking in the windows at us. I caught the shadows in the shiny window surface three times before we head into the master closet. 
Dave wasn't scared, he just hugged me for a minute before I told him I had to handle this take the reins "Halloween" style.  I picked up an old, wooden bat and walked out with weak resolve. 
The killer was standing in the doorway with the only light behind him, his whole body and face just one big black shape. That's the point where I woke up, with an image of Dave hanging on a fence with cables attached to his back and an electric shock in my blood.


Cooking Apocalypse Style

Don't tell anyone, I really did make this

With Matlock recording in the background and my fingers typing commercials and television programming, there's that itch again.  It's worse than the one you get sometimes right behind your shoulder blades.  This itch is genetic.  My mother and her mother and her mother until maybe a gorilla or something.  Even a gorilla gets this itch once in a while, although I'm sure it's no the same kind of itch.
I'm 23 1/2 years old and this itch has never plagued me until now.  I think it's a sign of the Apocalypse, the Second Coming, end of the world, beginning of World War III....whatever you think is the end of life as we know it. I'm talking about the "cooking itch".  
I've never been a cook and I'm not good at cooking anything that doesn't have printed instructions on cardboard.  Your lucky to see me combine any two ingredients for a meal or other cooking endeavors. I'm sure my mom dreamed of another domestic daughter when I was born-my sister, Lara, a natural cook/mom/good person/etc.  I was proud to be different and disgusted by this need to cook that the women in my family have.
I have been more ambitious since I added cooking to my bucket list (cooking all of the recipes in the Lewis Family Cookbook). This project isn't supposed to get bigger than one recipe a week (if I'm lucky), but this would be the 3rd recipe this week.  Cooking is becoming my cocaine.
Today I wish I wasn't working because all I can think about is pots/pans, vegetables, lasagna, taco soup, enchiladas and magical aromas proclaiming my hard work and delicious food. I am day-dreaming of cooking domestic meals, don't tell my mom.