A Salami For the Boy in the Army

A long, long time ago (2000) while I lived in Centennial (at BYU), a very strange thing happened. College BFF Jenn did not live with me this year, but it proved not to matter in the "necessity to prank call" department. On a weekly basis we would get out our apartment telephone and begin dialing random numbers, reciting random requests or declarations, making lots of random people either very mad or very scared.

Early one morning (around 3 am), I was awoken to the ringing of our telephone. I ran to the kitchen and answered it hearing only this,

"SEND A SALAMI TO YOUR BOY IN THE ARMY," in a very thick New York accent, with lots of commotion in the background. I later described this noise as "something out of a warehouse or the back of a restaurant."

I was dumbstruck as the stranger hung up and I was left standing in our apartment kitchen. For years, Jenn and I wondered who would have made the call; was it payback for our prank calls, or was it truly a wrong number? It is one of our longest inside jokes in Jenn/Kara history. By merely mustering up a thick New York accent and repeating those words, fits of laughter are sure to follow.

FLASH-FORWARD 9 YEARS...

On Sunday, Drew, Makenna, myself, and my parents are all driving home from a wedding in Connecticut and decide to stop for lunch in Manhattan. We stumble upon the world-famous Katz Delicatessen on Houston Street. After ordering the most delicious pastrami on rye ever to enter my mouth, for some reason or another, I told this prank call story to my family. Five minutes later, in an act so serendipitous I hardly believe it myself, my dad looked up above our table. This is the sign he saw dangling from the ceiling:



The prank call mystery has been solved (other than the mystery of who made the middle-of-the-night call) after all these years. Of all the delis to walk into in Manhattan, and of all the stupid stories to share with the 'rents, I shared that one and we walked into this one.

That is my story from beginning to end. And just to make your taste buds water, here are a couple of pictures from our adventure...

Follow-Up To Record Keeping

Me: Girls, what are some different ways we can keep a personal record for our posterity?
Girl #1: On the computer.
Girl #2: Make a scrapbook.
Girl #3: Take a notebook around with you to write down random thoughts.
Girl #4: Make a video of yourself every night before you go to bed (a new-age twist on Doogie Howser's journaling)
Me: How about blogging? Do you think keeping a blog could be a way of record keeping?
Girls #1-9: Sister Mann, what's a blog?
Me (dumb-founded): It's a website all your own that you can write thoughts down and put up pictures and videos.
Girl #2: Oh yeah. I think my grandma has a blog. She's serving a mission in China with my grandpa.
Girl #1: Yeah, my grandparents have a blog too.


So to all you senior citizens out there: keep up your record keeping. Those young grandkids of yours will figure out what you're doing someday and be very grateful.

Can I Get a Wuh-Wuh for New Callings?

Can I just say how overjoyed I am with my new calling? I loved my old calling of which I held for a mere 5 months (Valiant 10 teacher), but I am ECSTATIC to be the new Burke Ward...



BEEHIVE ADVISOR!!!


You may think me odd to have so much emotion accompanying a church calling, but hear me out. There are, have always been, two callings I have very strong feelings about.
The first being Gospel Doctrine Teacher- never had it, never want it. The only calling in the church I would actually regretfully decline. (I'd rather be a full time building janitor than be the gospel doctrine teacher; that's how strong my sentiments are).

But the 2nd calling among the two accompanied by very strong emotions is ANYTHING in the Young Women. In seven years of marriage, Drew has heard me pine over this church auxiliary. I've never had the pleasure of serving in this capacity. I feel like once the new ward peeps hear I play the piano, it's all downhill from there. But here, someone tuned into the true desires of my heart. I LOVE the youth. I LOVE teaching. I LOVE hanging out and doing fun things on Mutual night. This will be the most awesome calling ever.

And in honor of my excitement, I wanted to come in with a bang and make journals for the girls (the lesson on Sunday is about record keeping). Here's a picture of the final product, which I think turned out pretty cute.





P.S. This is not meant to be a "look-at-me, look at what I did" post; I'm just so excited to be in YW. I actually can't even believe I've devoted an entire post to a calling.

Family, Monopoly, and the Pool

The long-awaited arrival of Eric went without a hitch, and was totally worth the plane-ride-from-hell with none other than my beloved daughter.

May 11th, 6:50 a.m.- I was prevented from checking in prior to the gate so that I ended up with a middle, hear me: middle, seat in a packed flight. I had two very hefty men on either side of me, Makenna in my lap, my diaper bag, her mini back pack, and the dvd player at my feet. After turning to the man in the aisle seat and asking if he would so kindly trade a young single mother seats for the arduous journey ahead, he cold-heartedly declined my request. What followed was a five-hour plane ride with ineffective Benadryl, NO naps, claustrophobia to the max, and a series of unstoppable tantrums.

But... it was SO worth it to be there when Eric walked off the plane, tired to the bone from two long years of serving his mission in Bucharest, Romania. I couldn't help but get a bit sentimental when I looked down as we were waiting for his luggage and his shoes, so shiny and sturdy when he left, were worn down to the soles, scuffed, and showed signs of endless days of walking.

What followed over the next two weeks during my trip home was superb:

1. Drew flew in secretly to Phoenix and we surprised my family with a whole weekend of our entire family being together.
2. Makenna becomes a water bug and will not leave the pool under any circumstances. Not for sleep, not for a dirty diaper, not even for a popsicle.
3. Family volleyball and paddle ball tourneys in the pool. And bless Drew's heart for always being willing to take the handicap on his team. (I don't proclaim to be a water volleyball master, but I can kick serious butt with a paddle in my hands).
4. Roasting s'mores in the fire pit in the back yard.
5. Endless amount of hours spent either defending, or claiming, the title to Monopoly Champion at the kitchen table.
6. Eating divine Mexican food that you CAN NOT get here in Virginia. (Long live Carolina's, Caramba's, and Rubio's). I think I got my fill of fresh tortillas, fish tacos, and supreme chicken quesadillas until July.
7. Visiting GG and Grandpa Phil in Prescott for a day. GG broke her ankle the day before Eric's homecoming talk and is bed-ridden for 6 weeks- yuck. Pobrecita!
8. And I could NOT leave out seeing Air Force 1 parked at our very own Sky Harbor Airport while Mr. Barack was delivering a commencement speech at ASU and controversially being withheld an honorary diploma.
9. Invaluable family time and photos, documented by yours truly...