Elder Magleby: Now Accepting Applications

Today I realized that it's been a while since we've blogged.  And interesting blogs will probably be a long time coming because to be perfectly honest, our lives are not that fascinating right now.  Yes, good and interesting things are coming, but for the moment we're just in the middle of one of those semesters that make all you graduated people grateful you're not in school anymore.  If you happen to stop by the Judkins household you'll find us staring at chemical structures and maintenance manuals until our eyes give out.  Every.  Single.  Day.

So!  To make up for our current terribly consistent and dull lives we're featuring a true warrior this week on BJC:

Here, in semi-warrior attire is the one and only Elder Austin Magleby, who just hit his ONE YEAR MARK this last week.  This studly young man is serving it up on his mission for the LDS Church in Indianapolis, IN and I couldn't be prouder of the kid.

 It may be because I'm big sister, but I personally think he's tremendously handsome, smart, talented and funny.  Not to mention super spiritual- c'mon, just look at the spiritual aura emanating off him.  Like Nephi- large in stature (his aura I mean...).

I am now accepting applications for any young ladies who would like to write such a fine specimen of a missionary.  Please send me your resume and head shot for consideration.

Yesterday, I flew off the handle

At 7:47 am, to be precise.

Oddly enough, it was over my outfit.  Or lack of.  Now, normally I don't think much about what I wear: if it's comfortable and doesn't require any yanking or tugging or checking of buttons I'm good.

But yesterday I had my first interview for my first real job and suddenly I had NO CLOTHES.
[false- I have a closet full of clothes, many of which fit the professional criteria]

It was cold outside, so there was NO way I could wear a skirt, [false- I do it for church all the time] and I could NOT wear heels for the 4 hours of class before the interview [false- my record is 12 hours for a conference].  I could NOT wear my black pants because my black flats were uncomfortable [semi-false- my pinky toe gets kinda smushed in there] and even if I DID suffer through the shoes I could NOT wear my suit jacket with the pants becuase the blacks did NOT match [I'm still not sure if that's false or not]. 

Between changing through six outfits and pacing between the closet and the mirror I made myself very late [false- I still could have made it]. 

That's when I blew up.  This was All.  Zach's.  Fault.  [false- Zach had nothing to do with it] because we never go shopping [false- we went last week and I was too picky to buy anything] and being married to him has made me fat so my other clothes don't fit [false- Zach is the only reason I ever get to the gym these days].  Plus, my hair didn't look as professional as I had envisioned, and that was Zach's fault too [false- just false].

Zach took my accusations like a champ.  He got dressed, handed me the lunch he packed, put the breakfast he made me on a plate, pushed me out the door, drove me to class and as I exited the car in a fluster he told me that I looked fabulous.

I don't know if I'll get the job, but if I do, it's only because of this guy:

I can take a hint

This last week Zach and I got quite the shocker when we finally bit the bullet and looked at our finances. 

What's this?  A charge for BYU tuition? (gasp!) THEY TOOK AWAY MY FACULTY BENEFITS!

As the lucky child of BYU professors, I've always taken for granted that my tuition is half off the usual rate and have planned my finances accordingly.  But now, staring at my account I saw that someone had purposefully stripped me of my coveted status.

The girl at Financial Services was oh so nice and transferred me oh so quickly to the Benefits Office after informing me that there might be a credit limit to what BYU is willing to go halfsies on.  I added up my credits, quietly cursing my carefree freshman year and the resulting retaken classes.  The Benefits lady also tallied my credits as I held my breath.

Finally, "Well, BYU will only pay up to 150 credits and right now you're at 145.  We'll put the half tuition back into your account.  For now.  Just don't add any more classes."

Alright BYU, I get it.  It's time for me to graduate already.

This is my favorite motivational picture as I plunge into my final semester of classes:

Should be the best semester yet.

We'd like to think we're hardcore...

... but really, we just ride on the coattails of other people's coolness.

For Christmas my nordic-blooded brother gave us a trip to the shooting range and permission to use his blue-steel beauty.  It was empowering.

I used to wonder why in the movies all the bad guys were such bad shots.  Now I know.  It is HARD to aim those things and then when you think you've got it just right there's a sudden kick-back.  I now feel like I can relate to the poor StormTroopers in Star Wars, although I'm not sure laser guns present the same issues.
Zach: Poor StormTroopers.  At least they had that sweet armor that deflected even Ewok arrows.   Oh, wait...

 

 I've heard rumors that women tend to be better shots than men.  Alas, this was not the case.  Zach in all his macho glory whupped my trash.

Zach: One of the few things I've ever beat Clarissa in, I assure you.  My chest shots on my man target ensured low misery and a merciful kill.  That said, if it had been a zombie horde, its no wonder that studies have shown that 73 percent of wasted ballistic wounds come from some type of handgun (The Zombie Survival Guide, pg 48).  That means more time at the range and more reason to own a machete.

Thanks for the sweet Christmas present Hans! 

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

I didn’t know it when I married him, but Zach is a total Grinch when it comes to certain aspects of Christmas. 

Take, for example, decorating the Christmas tree.  Tree decorating is a near sacred ritual in my family.  Each person receives an ornament every year that represents something we’ve done or a place we’ve gone.  We gather around with eggnog, peppermint cookies,  and the Kurt Bestor Christmas album and line all our ornaments up by year and put them on the tree in order as we tell the story behind them.  Warm fuzzies abound.

I thought it was huge treat when I told Zach that we could decorate the Christmas tree a few weeks ago.  His response was that I could decorate if I wanted, but he was going to study.  “Oh, and by the way I’m sorry but I drank the eggnog and cookies are probably just unnecessary calories.”

Little girl heart full of Christmas joy and happy memories = BROKEN.

 Zach: Just so you know, I went out and bought more eggnog.

Turns out Zach doesn’t like Christmas shopping, reenacting nativities, or chocolate dipping. According to him, putting up decorations is only half a step up from doing the dishes.  Talk about a heart being three sizes too small.

There is, however, one tradition that we both enjoy.  Every year my family takes a trip up to Salt Lake to see the lights on Temple Square, stay at the Little America Hotel, eat the breakfast buffet in the morning (in my opinion the best part) and see “A Christmas Carol” at Hale Center Theater.

The Little America has perhaps the finest breakfast in all of Utah.  Continental eat your heart out.

The Little America. Much like the Grand America. Only half the price, at the cost of nation's finest commodes.

The Hale Center Theater.

Zach: After fine dining, and watching the stirring performances at the Hale Center Theater (Clarissa: honestly, I cried at least three times during the play, and I caught my 6'6" hulk of a man brother doing likewise), my small heart (or belt) grew four sizes that day.  I should now have strength of 10 Grinches plus two!

Our Christmas Card To You

We wanted to send out Christmas cards this year, we really did.  All the cool people do it, and we desperately want to be cool like that. 

Randy, the ever-loving, patient, and talented photographer graciously took our festive picture and I was quickly snookered in by Vistaprint's cheap inexpensive showcasing of his talent.

$0.50 a pop?  We're all over that. 
Oh, a $5 picture upload fee?  I guess that's fine.
TWENTY-TWO DOLLARS IN SHIPPING TO BE HERE IN A NINE DAYS?!?!

I think not.

Zach: you know we love you guys, but...

The thing is, we spent two days of extreme effort composing the four-line rhyme on the back, and I could NOT let all that work go to waste.  So, for your enjoyment, we present to you...

OUR CHRISTMAS CARD:

Now, squint your eyes, and pretend that you're holding a 100% recycled material matte-finish card in your hands, fresh from a hand-addressed envelope that arrived a full week before Christmas.

We love you guys!  Merry Christmas!

A Devious Plot

Zach and I have adorable nieces and nephews.  Like really cute.  So, in an effort to steal them away while they are still in their tender years, we are slowly addicting them to caffeinated, sweet drinks.  We are thereby attempting to make them associate us with a delightful, sugary surge of sensation.

Zach: I  couldn't figure out why he was sucking so intently

on the bottle until I realized there was a small, but well-utilized leak.
Whoops.

 If we do this long enough hopefully they'll choose to come live with us.  In the meantime, they fulfill the first major purpose of a blog: cute baby pictures.