Mo' Movember Humor

Even this car is getting into Movember :)

(more info on Movember can be found here)

The Calendar of Facial Hair

Today marks the last day of Movember (long known as No-Shave November and commonly known as November), so in honor of it, I thought I would post this Calendar of Facial Hair. It was created by a Bible study I co-led last year. One night, we were all sitting around and the guys started talking about how they weren't shaving for No-Shave November. Some of us felt that it wasn't fair for November to be the only month associated with facial hair, and so this calendar was created:

“Januhairy” - Don’t shave or pluck or cut any hairs on your body. Give your back hair a chance. 

“Fu-bruary” - In honor of Valentine’s day, because nothing says “I love you” like a full Fu Manchu. 

“Moustache March” - We will not alter this month as it has been laid down by our forefathers as the correct thing to be doing at this time. 

“April Fus” or “Anchor Beard April” - Two to choose from this month. Don’t let the French have all the fun.

“Mutton Chops May” - May your chops be fluffy and (not necessarily) white. 

“Well-Groomed June” - With the arrival of summer, it’s time to stop hiding the fact that you’ve been living in Januhairy for the last 6 months. Keep yourself well-groomed. A full shave is optional. 

“Summer Soul Patch” - Give your face a chance to cool off and your spiritual life a chance to grow. 

“Augoatee” - We know it doesn’t rhyme or alliterate, but give us a break, we tried hard. And you know you’ve been waiting all year for the goatee. 

“September Sparrow” - Set sail for awesome this month, show your pirate spirit, and get ready for International Talk Like a Pirate Day by growing a Jack Sparrow facial thingamajig. 

“Octoberfest Beerd Bong” - Don’t let one drop go to waste. Facial hair makes an excellent alcohol reservoir, though few have been fortunate enough to discover this fact prior to the publishing of this publication. 

“No-Shave November” or, for the more brave among us, “Neard November” - shave all facial hair except for what grows on your neck.

“Decembeard” - Keep your face warm for the first of the chilly winter months by growing a full beard by Christmas.

Did you know that there's a World Beard and Moustache Championship?

Backpacking in Hetch Hetchy: Or, Why Fallen Logs Are Nice For Sitting, Not Sleeping

Last week in the Pinterest Challenge post, I teased the story of why we have a black bear ornament on our tree. I thought today would be a good day to share that tale, so pour a cup of coffee and enjoy :)

Last year for the Hub's birthday he asked to go on a backpacking trip to celebrate. Of course I was thrilled to say yes! We love spending time backpacking and don't get to do enough of it - sadly we've averaged only one backpacking trip per year since we were married. But when we do it, it's amazing. The scenery, being away from all concept of time and techonology....walking to the point of exhaustion and beyond...we love it.

We decided on Hetch Hetchy because it would be more secluded than Yosemite but still have great views. We finally arrived at about 3pm and chose a trail - one so rarely used and secluded that it's "free camping" which means you can set up your tent anywhere there is a clearing (as long as you are 100 yards from any water sources). It was a free weekend, so all we had to pay for was $15 to rent a bear cannister. We crammed all our food into it and headed down the trail. Which very quickly became UP the trail. Up and up and up. And up some more. Since we were getting such a late start and wanted to make 8-9 miles before setting up camp, we were hoofing it. But the trail continued to get steeper and steeper as we hiked toward the crest of the ridge which surrounds the reservoir - trust me, it's much farther away than you would guess. We rarely rested as time was not on our side. Finally about an hour after we reached a point of physical exhaustion I've never been to before or since, we saw hikers descending. We asked how much longer until we reached the hidden lake (our - or really my - goal) and they reassured us it was only a 1.5 miles ahead. At this point the sun was setting and dusk was already upon us. We hiked another 15 minutes and came to a relatively flat clearing. There was a large boulder with four or five fallen logs strewn about. We decided to camp there - we could sit and rest on one of the logs and eat, and get our tent up before it was pitch dark. And that's what we did. We carried our bear canister 200 feet away from where we were sleeping and left it in the open so it could roll freely (if you wedge it against anything the bears will use that as leverage to pry it open - sneaky buggers). We each pulled out our knives so they would be accessible just in case. I've read too many Reader's Digest "Bear/Cougar/Shark/Alligator Mauls Girl - But She Lived to Tell the Tale" to not come prepared with our longest blade - which is only 4 inches, but it made me feel better. Then the Hubs pulled out his knife...or should I say letter opener. Seriously, it was a mere inch long blade IF THAT. I'm not sure what he was planning to do with it if we were attacked by a man-eating bear, but to each his own. Perhaps I should have prepped him by making him read some of those articles.

We fell asleep. But within hours were awakened by a snuffling sound. Then more snuffling sounds. Then a ripping and pawing sound. Because what is in fallen logs that bears absolutely love? Fat juicy grubs. Yes. We had inadvertently set up our camp right in the middle of a bear feeding ground. We could hear more and more bears arriving. It seemed like there were at least three or four of them pawing and scraping, sometimes yipping at each other. We lay very still for hours. Occasionally a bear would meander toward our tent and sniff it. Finally I was so exhausted I fell into a fitful sleep. But each time I would adjust my position on the hard ground, my sleeping bag (made from that super noisy material all backpacking bags are made from) would rustle noisily. Which got the bears attention - I imagine I sounded suspiciously like a rodent in the grass. Immediately a bear or two would lumber over and begin nosing at the tent. This repeated itself innumerable times throughout the night as the Hubs lay there wide awake. I imagine that, Readers Digest or no, several of those mauling scenarios were running through his mind. I however slept on, completely unaware.

Finally the sun began to peak over the ridge at 4:30am. I was awake by now, listening to the last remaining bears disinterestedly pawing at the logs. We heard two bears pad over to our tent. Suddenly, as the first ray of sun hit the top of our tent, the outline of a bear standing on its rear legs became visible, as if it was trying to peer into the top of our tent. Never have we been so still or held our breath for so long. After what felt like hours, the bears left. When all was quiet for a good ten minutes, we warily peeked out. They were gone.

All in all, it was a glorious trip. And as all ended well, it left us with quite the story and a valuable life lesson: Camp far away from fallen logs.

:)

A Sweet Love Story

I thought this was too cute, and had to share :)

image

Google+Me: A Love Affair

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who spent a lot of time on computers. She knew how to work them better than anyone else in her family and so she was often called upon by parents, siblings, and even extended relatives to solve their technology-related woes. Sometime during late adolescence, she was introduced to Google; little did she know that this introduction would change her life forever.

It began with her discovery of the Google search engine. She loved how powerful it was, how it could give her anything she wanted with just some simple commands from her and a few strokes of the keyboard. A few years later, her relationship with Google moved to the next level when she became a user of Gmail, Google's intuitive & sensitive email service. She loved the fact that rather than isolating her from her friends, Google instead allowed her to interact with them in a lasting, searching way. She felt that her relationship with Google was healthy & mutually beneficial, engaging them both with each other in interesting ways, but also giving them space to explore their own interests.

The girl still wasn't 100% satisfied with their relationship, but her belief that Google was really the best that was out there caused her to keep coming back to work things out. Google began offering her Blogger, a service that allowed her to express her innermost thoughts without censorship or the fear of rejection. She could be completely open with Google and Google would always welcome her with open arms.

Eventually, things started to get even better between them. Google integrated chat into Gmail, allowing her to experience instant & quick connections, as well as longer lasting ones. Google Reader expanded her world by putting the blogosphere at her fingertips, enabling her to travel the blog world without ever leaving the comfort of Google's familiar arms. The next gift Google gave her was Chrome and she finally felt completely secure. Wherever she roamed in the world, she always had the comfort of feeling that she was home, that she and Google would always be together and never be truly parted, no matter where she went.

But still, something was missing from their relationship.

Despite the gift of Chrome, the girl still felt that she was betraying Google every time she tried to socialize with her friends. The guilt weighed heavily on her heart and though she wasn't entirely sure, she thought she could see sadness in Google's eyes whenever she returned from one of her social visits. Little did she know, though, that Google had another gift for her, the gift of Plus.

At last, Google had become the entire package, everything her heart could possibly desire. No longer would she have to leave Google's side in order to maintain her friendships, instead, they were finally partners in all aspects of her life. As the girl gazed lovingly at Google, she could finally see the wonderful future they would have together and she knew, without a doubt, that they would live happily ever after.

Excuse My French (Teacher)

It was the first day of second year French and it had been nearly three years since I'd taken first year French. I got to class 15 minutes early and sat down in the front of the class, excitedly awaiting the start of the semester.

Class time arrived and though the classroom was full, there was no sign of the professor. I watched as the analog clock at the front of the room slowly ticked off the minutes. 3...7...9...finally, 13 minutes late, the professor arrived! My excitement had reached a max. I couldn't wait for class to begin!

The teacher hurried to the front of the room and immediately my nostrils were assaulted by an awful odeur. His clothes were wrinkled and the armpits of his royal blue polo were sweat-stained. His face shone like a calm lake on a sunny day, but with scraggly trees sticking out of it. Yeah, this teacher needed to be schooled on personal hygiene. "This guy takes giving his students an authentic French experience way too literally," I thought. 

Le Professeur began class and it went pretty well, but students were gagging throughout. As long as we didn't look at him and kept our noses pinched (in order to produce a more accurate accent, we told him when he asked about it), we got through the first session without losing our lunch.

The teacher's last name was Elshob, but in study group we quickly started calling him "Professeur Le Slob." I sure hope I don't slip up in class...