The Tunnel of Gross

Prepare yourselves for a totally random dream. Even for me, this one is pretty strange. Here it goes:

I was driving down the freeway and the road morphed into a tunnel that was an exact replica of what it would look like inside someone's mouth. As I kept driving, it was like I was driving down the esophagus and towards the intestines. Gross. The walls of the tunnel were all pinkish and there were obstacles in the middle of the road so all the cars had to slow down. Plus, I wasn't sure if the road was divided or not, so I was hesitant to drive on the left side of the throat. I wouldn't recommend it, but if you want a visual, you could watch this nasty clip that I show my students in science class. It makes me want to gag every time that I see it. Yet, I still keep watching it.

Next, I reached my destination, which was Bath and Body Works. I was smelling some soap when my coworker walked by and make a comment about how huge the zit on the side of my face is. She called it a clever name, but it escapes me now. (There really is a huge zit on the side of my face, if you were wondering).

The scene changed a bit and now I was working in the store. I was notified that a customer was coming to get some new Barbie clothes. I thought I could help by getting some ready for her. I picked out a few shirts and some pants and then I chose some cute underwear for her. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if they really even sell Barbie underwear. After I had a pretty nice wardrobe started, I realized that they probably wanted to pick out their own clothes and I put them all back.

There's a Nightmare in my Closet

I've been watching old, scary movies lately with Tina, Robyn, and Sarah. Mostly I watch them because Robyn and Sarah scream their heads off the whole time. It's quite entertaining. Sorry, girls. It's true. I'm not sure if I can keep it up, though, because I'm starting to have scary dreams.

In my dream last night, I was coming home and I noticed these 3 guys at my neighbor's house. They were in their twenties and one of them was even pretty good looking. Next thing I knew, Good Looking Guy was pulling pantyhose over his head and I immediately knew I was in trouble. I'm not really sure why he put them on, since I'd already seen what he looked like. ??

I tried screaming, but my voice wasn't cooperating. The three bad guys were very pleased that I had lost my ability to scream. They asked if any of my roommates were home. I lied and said that one of them was, but she was taking a nap upstairs. I kept thinking about how easy it would be for them to steal my TV since it was still in the box. Suddenly I could scream again. Yay! Unfortunately, the only people who heard me were my neighbors that didn't speak English. I ran towards them and used my best sign language to tell them I needed to use their phone.

Inside their house, I called the Police Department on my cell phone and 911 on their house phone. Not sure why I needed to borrow their phone if I had my own the whole time. Anyway, I was holding both phones up to my ears simultaneously. The Police Dept. didn't answer, but 911 did. The weird thing was that they didn't ask for any information. They just told me that they had the situation under control. I thought that maybe I wasn't actually calling 911 because it seemed pretty fishy to me. So, I had my neighbor double check that there were cops outside my house. I guess he learned English real quick because he understood me and then confirmed that there were indeed police officers all over the street. Then I woke up.

Are you happy now Dad that I finally posted? Hopefully now that I am done vacationing I can get back to a normal sleep routine and keep the dreams coming.

Father's Day!

Since I'll be away this Father's Day, I've enlisted the Tanner girls to help me sing this special song for my dad:

http://youtu.be/M3pqb7lbw8E?t=1m35s

I also wrote this limmerick poem:

There once was a father named Rob
Who did a fantastic job
of raising his kids
and opening lids
and making grilled corn on the cob.

Love you Dad!

Bear With Me

I am not going to beat around the bush here. I am in love with cinnamon bears.



They couldn't be any more perfect. Unless someone took this awesome idea and made the World's Largest Cinnamon Bear. 5 pounds of pure perfection? I'd be all over that.

The toughest part about my cinnamon bear obsession is that they are soooo hard to find. I know this problem isn't only isolated to Arizona because I once spent a big chunk of my time in Oceanside, CA running into grocery stores and gas stations in search of my bear friends.

So, I was beyond elated this week when my sister sent me a text letting me know that they were in stock at one of the local Walmarts. I drove across town and bought myself 6 bags. I would have bought more, but I didn't have a shopping cart to help me carry them.

All of this cinnamon bear excitement lead to another dream. This dream has a history, though. Way, way back when I was in my early teens, I went camping with my family and our cousins. We played a game. The name of it escapes me, but the category was "Famous Bears." We all began to shout out any bears we could think of and then someone yelled, "Cinnamon Bears!" We found this quite comical and then had a long debate over whether or not they were actually "famous." It doesn't really seem all that funny as I type it out, but trust me, it was. We still laugh about it to this day.

So in my dream, I was playing a game. It was my turn and I picked a card out of the box. I was shocked beyond belief when I looked at answer #5. It's on there! They really are famous bears! This game confirms it!


I must give some credit to this poorly designed site for helping me think of a few extra bears to add to the card I imagined in my dream. I am not really sure what the purpose of such a site would be other than to help me with this post. Maybe she had a lot of extra time on her hands (Like I do right now as I'm waiting to pick up my friend from the airport now that her flight has been delayed 1.5 hours).

Toaster Oven

I had a dream that I was at my grandparent's house in their kitchen. A bunch of people from my ward showed up as I was cooking pancakes. Since I was only making a few, I thought that it would be a better idea to cook them in the toaster oven. I stuck them in there and started talking to my friends. Before I knew it, the toaster oven was smoking like crazy. I had no idea what could have gone wrong, so I wasn't sure how to solve the problem. I cautiously unplugged it and the smoke died down enough for me to see inside. My pancakes had grown as much as the Grinch's heart on the side of Mt. Crumpit (3 sizes). There was batter all over the place. It was a mess that nobody would want to clean up. So I carried the toaster oven into the backyard and set it on a stump.

A note from awake Bethany:
Toaster ovens are really great. You might even say that I am in love with mine. However, they are not great for everything. I have learned through real-life experience that you should not try to bake cookies in a toaster oven, nor should you try to melt the cheese on your tacos in there.

Gotta Love 'Em

There's definitely a reason why I became a teacher. And it's not because I was hoping to have my salary frozen for 3 years in a row. Haven't figured it out yet? Well, it's the kids.

During the last week of school, a boy in my class religiously carried a jar around with him everywhere he went. The lid read: Donashuns for the People in the Tornato.

Yesterday, my rommate's 4 year old nephew was over. He set up a miniature baseball diamond in our living room using stuffed animals. "The horse is on first, the big dog is on second, the other dog is on third, the towel is home, and the couch is the umpire...because I don't got any more pets."

Today I finally got around to reading the surveys that I gave out to my reading group so that I can better plan for next year. Here are a few of their suggestions:

"I wish that we had more candy and I mean this!"

"I wish that we could play football."

"I wish that we didn't have to write this."

I'm tacking on one more that happened a while ago. My friend's mom came into my class to teach us all about farming. When she asked the class what the difference is between a gardener and a farmer, one student responded, "A farmer wears a hat."

Big Mistake in the Big Lots lot

I have been searching everywhere for Ice Breakers Limeade mints. I heard a rumor that they had some at the new Big Lots. It wasn't true. Boo. However, that is not Big Lots' only problem. As I pulled into an empty parking space, I realized that something wasn't quite right. I was parked right in front of the opening for the shopping cart return. Was I in an actual parking spot? Yes I was. They installed it backwards! Ha. So unless they turn this thing around, it will only be utilized when a car is not there preventing any carts from getting out or coming in. I took a picture and it turned out pretty crummy, but I'll add it below anyway.

P. S. If anyone finds any Limeade mints, let me know. Seriously. I need them. And they need me.