what'd you get for christmas?

I remember when Christmas was measured on how many cool gifts you received. The first thing a friend would ask "So what'd you get?" There were times that I felt deflated at what I received when compared to their haul. I am sure I had friends that felt the same after they got off the phone with me. How grateful I am that as the years have progressed I stopped measuring my Christmas by things but rather on the experience.

The pure excitement and awe that Santa will arrive. The joy I have blackmailing my nieces in to being nice because the man in red is watching their every move. The letter carefully written to this magical man, along with cookies and of course a carrot for Rudolph.

The competitive games on the Wii fit. Sibling rivalry never dies... thank goodness!

The grown-up dinner with my grown-up friends. Seeing their families expand and realizing that highchairs will be a necessary addition next year.

And how often do I get to have a 9 night sleepover with a pretty special 8 year-old? Last night as I crawled in to bed I felt a tinge of sadness that her hand wouldn't softly touch my head or nestle in to my neck. I even longed for her kicks and bed hogging. The day after her baptism we woke up at the same time, turned and looked at each other and then laughed. Then she snuggled in and I said "I bet you won't miss me sharing your bed tonight." And she smiled and said "Nope, you snore!" Love that stinker...

Despite the ups and downs, the differences, the stress, the madness, the noise, the cooking and cleaning, the chaos, I wouldn't change it for anything. Nothing beats Mum's stuffing, the gut-busting laughter that only comes from interactions with people that have known you your whole life, the joy on kids faces as they witness the magic of the season, seeing the personal attention and detail that my very loving parents put in to their gifts and being accepted for my imperfect self. I hit it big this year.

So, what did you get for Christmas?

on my top 10

One of the things I hate the most, that would be in my top 10, is packing. I have been working on my bag for about 1 1/2 hours and expect I'll be done in another 30. I hate trying to decide what I might want to wear in five days. It shouldn't take me 10 minutes to decide between shirts but it does. I'm not even fussy about clothes. I just like to do things last minute, like deciding in the morning what I'm going to wear. I also hate guessing if a top is going to be too warm or not warm enough. And then what I hate most is trying to cram it all in to my suitcase.

Confession: I am spatially challenged. I suck at depth perception and am even worse with dimensions. So you can understand the chore that packing is. So while I should be finishing up my packing I am writing this boring post. 

But the light at the end of the tunnel is that packing means I am going somewhere. And in less than 24 hours it will all be worth it because I'll be heading to this!

the sign

The crush is over when he texts and you actually forget to write back.  It's not that you wait so you don't look too eager or over think what to write... you actually don't even think twice about it!!! Ah emotional freedom. 

For you single folks, what is your sign that it's over for you?

celebrating the american way

and 

will be together for four days here:

for

Who knows what might happen....

the long slumber

Last night I think I slept about 14 hours. I fell asleep somewhere in the middle of the 8 p.m. show of What Not to Wear. I stumbled out of bed around 10:45 to brush my teeth, go to the bathroom and turn off the lights. There was another stumbling out of bed this morning to go to the potty, then briefly woke up to a text message and then drifted back to sleep. Just before 10 I woke up for the day. While part of me feels rather sluggish for sleeping so long, the other part was in desperate need. It's been one of those weeks. My body and mind desperately needed a break. Maybe bears have it right. Perhaps we should all spend a period of time hibernating.

I'm excited to head down to sunny Phoenix for American Thanksgiving. I'm sure Jo and I will find plenty of mischief.

Also, you'll note I put comment moderation on. It has absolutely nothing to do with the Obama post... I promise! There was a post I wrote a long time ago that someone wrote some pretty nasty stuff on. Sorry for the inconvenience.

it's time for a change

From this:

To this:


Perhaps one step closer to what MLK said "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."

Today I'm a proud Canadian living in America...

it was a trick

On Monday my sister directed me to a website that sold a sash that said "Miss Diagnosed". I thought it was a perfect costume for a therapist working at a treatment centre. I was excited when the website had a bold, flashing sign that said "Order by Monday for guaranteed delivery by Halloween." PERFECT!!! I quickly ordered and waited in excited anticipation. I started feeling antsy when it still hadn't arrived by Thursday. I went back to the website and after a bit of investigation noted that the fine print said "Guaranteed by 7 p.m. on the 31st" What the eff? Fried with their false (misleading) advertising I was determined to find a backup plan. Thursday night I hit up the local fabric store for ribbon and iron-on letters. Then I made a pit stop at the Disney store where I scored a tiara for half price. Wal-mart was still open at 11 where I managed to get some fake eyelashes and fake nails. The only thing I wasn't able to find was a tacky 80s dress. So, I rummaged up an old bridesmaid skirt and VOILA

Here is the result...
If you click on the photo, you can see the fake nails. They had these ugly black tips, with silver flowers.

The staff got a kick out of the outfit but sadly only about half the kids understood the humour. I got home after work to see this sitting on my bed.

SO TYPICAL

Lessons I learned this Halloween:
1. Always read the fine print. I can't even return this stupid thing because returns had to be postmarked by October 16th. So now i have two Miss Diagnosed and spent double the money for the same costume. 
2. Never ever bother with fake nails. I could hardly type at work, texting took an inordinate amount of effort (like watching my mom type), and my skin crawled every time the sound of my nails hit something. Plus taking them off was a painful and long process. 
3. Trying to find an 80s dress is harder than you might think... so start early.
4. Fake eyelashes rock. I think I should wear them all the time because they make my eyes look so pretty!
5. You have to back comb more than you think to get big hair.

So readers, since American elections are just around the corner here is your chance to practice a bit of democracy. Time to rock the vote.

Is it better to go store bought


OR

Homemade

(had to show off my "niece" in her monkey suit)

a thing called love

Sometimes I'm a cynic. Sometimes I'm a romantic. But just when I wonder if this dating and marriage thing is really worth it, I read a very simple thing from someone I admire... and a relationship that I envy.

She made me a delicious chicken soup and I just love her all the more the way she is so good to me.

And then I know that waiting for someone that I will be good to, and that will love me more because of it, is indeed worth the wait.

whitney and i

The other night I had a Tommy Boy moment minus Richard and the out of control driving. All the radio stations were playing obnoxious songs or ads. So when I heard The Greatest Love of All, I paused... and then I sang. Who can resist a duet with Whitney Houston? I don't know what the people passing me thought as I belted it out, nor do I care. All I could hear was my perfect pitch and rich vibrato. Thankfully no one was there to tell me otherwise.

But it got me thinking of when I was younger and much more insecure. I would never have sung out loud in my car for fear of being seen. I also hated going through drive through restaurants by myself. Now I've actually eaten alone in a REAL restaurant. Apparently I have made progress in my adult life.

So, what things used to mortify you that you've outgrown?

is it just me?

I am maybe wiling to admit I've become an anal roommate. However, I think I have just been cursed.

So, help me to decide (keep in mind that we are ALL renters. No one in the house actually owns the place):

Would you be confused/annoyed/grossed out by multiple framed pictures of your roommate and her boyfriend in the living room?

Even if you all decide I am just anal, I think it's time for me to live on my own.

my kind of kids

Sometimes I'm glad I'm watching TV live and can't fast forward commercials. If I was six, I'd run with this crowd.

politics

Yesterday I saw an old gal with an Obama pin on her jacket lapel. I thought "Wow, isn't that progressive for an older Utahn." Then I saw her get in to a car with Minnesota plates. Guess I thought too soon.

i don't need to get laid*

*In response to my good friend Dub, I actually do find some things amusing. So, contrary to his popular belief, my agitation has little to do with the amount of action I am getting in my life. I had a great day today. I might blog about it later, I might not. However, this little exchange from a precious gal (and her mother) in my life left me laughing and laughing.

START SCENE

The other night while laying down with Parker, this conversation came out of NOWHERE. Like we had said prayers and goodnight and all was quiet:

Parker: Mom, I can't marry Dallin because he's my cousin.

Me: that's right, you can't.

Parker: Yeah too bad, but you can't marry cousins even if you love them.

Me: Yes, too bad, Dallin will be a very good husband.

Parker: But I can marry Joshie!

Me: Yes you can (really trying not to laugh at this convo).

Parker: He'd be a good husband because we both have blond hair and we like
the same things! Like, I like singing and so does Josh and I like playing in
the gym and so does Josh and I like just doing stuff and so does Josh!

Me: Yes, that would be great. I like Josh, he'd be a good husband, because
he's a good friend.

Parker: Did you know girls can marry friends that are girls?

Me: Yes, I did know that.

Parker: Yeah, like if I had a friend that was a girl, I could marry her.

Me: Um, yes. But you should marry a boy. It's better for a girl to marry a
boy.

Parker: Yeah. But Teigan was saying that a girl can marry a girl and she
said it's complicated to explain.

Me: Oh yeah? When was this?

Parker: We were on the swings and then Uncle Ted took Maren and Spencer into
the wild, so we ran off to go with them, so we just stopped talking about
it! (**this scene was obviously when Denise and family were at Steeds the
night we had family here!)

Me: Oh very interesting. But yes, girls CAN marry girls. But Heavenly Father
wants girls to marry boys.

Parker: Yeah, too bad I can't marry Dallin. But I can marry Josh!

Me: Yes honey, good night.

END SCENE

This kid is five and I think she might be one of the funniest people I know.

something to be grouchy about*

I have blogged about this issue before BUT it never stops annoying me. 

So, one last time... DO NOT SEND ME REQUESTS FOR ISSUES THAT I DO NOT SHARE A SIMILAR FEELING ON. Even though I "share" your same religious beliefs, I am not interested in helping you telephone people in California to help ban same sex marriage. In fact, if I were to help with this cause, I would be arguing the other side. Not only that but I don't even know who you are. Your friend is listed as my friend (but more like an acquaintance) on Facebook. Seriously people, try to enlist people you know want to help you with your cause. Don't send out mass mailings. It just makes some folks pissed off.

Oh, and this isn't something to be grouchy about but more mystified... There is a room for rent in my place and rather than calling me, some random person texted me. They also use "u" instead of "you" . They either have major social anxiety or poor social skills. Either way I don't want them living with me. Pick up the phone and woman up.   

*I just want Rocky to know what REALLY makes me grouchy and not just snarky

bullseye

Today is my running partner's birthday so I stopped by the red bullseye store to get her a birthday card. I found a card that seemed perfect as it joked about Prozac and hallucinogens, seeing as she's a school counselor and I'm a therapist. I was quite pleased with my choice as I headed to the register. The clerk fiddled with the card for a bit, so I assumed she was trying to find the price. In fact, her delay was due to her keen desire to read the card. Perhaps I wouldn't have minded the delay, but she stated "Oh, that's so mean." To which I responded "I think it's funny." What I really wanted to say was "Lady, you're paid to ring up my items not poke your nose in to my stuff and give me your unsolicited opinion." 

As a side note, I also had to remind her twice that I did not need a bag. 

the gods must be crazy... or just angry

I'm still healing from my traumatic Monday and can only now write about it. Excited for Labour day, I decided to work a half day. My plan involved riding my bike to work and then going for a long ride up the canyon. Sunday night there were some clouds and threats of a storm the next day. I woke up to rain so I packed my bike in my car and drove to work, knowing the weather can shift rapidly in Utah. I was in the middle of a family session watching the clouds get darker and darker. The rain came hard, the lights flickered and then the power went out. I didn't take that as a good sign. By noon things weren't looking any better. I gave up my brilliant idea of biking and went out to eat with a friend.

Of course the sun came out as we hit the road. I ignored the obvious slap in the face from Mother Nature or the gods or whomever orchestrated this little joke. When I got home from eating and shopping, I hopped on my bike to finally get the ride I deserved. I had hit my turn around point when I noticed something in my front tire. I stopped, got off, and stupidly pulled out the biggest thorn/burr I had ever seen. The air shot out of the tire. I panicked, stuck the burr back in, but it was too late. I was by myself with my flat tire. Feeling that this wasn't my day to bike, I called a friend. She was amazingly close by and kindly picked me up.

Maybe next holiday I'll try again, but I don't think I'm too excited about riding to work on Thanksgiving.

relief...

As of today, the worst roommate in my history of shared living existence is gone. My one regret is that I didn't get a chance to photograph some of her decorative gems. The stainless steel pigs ran a close second to the fake grapes. The fridge is no longer littered with Napoleon Dynamite magnets. The permanently fixed dish rack is a thing of the past. The dozens (note the pluralization) of dishes have been packed. I don't trip over furniture in the living room. The drama that was her life is now for the ears of her new roommate. It's all gone. GONE, GONE, GONE.

I can breathe again. Inhale, exhale. Wonderful. God is Good.

good times

Three years ago, almost to the day, I swam in the Great Salt Lake with this girl.
It was sort of gross and sort of fun. The brine shrimp got all stuck in your swimsuit and were very difficult to rinse off. That was the gross part. The fun part was floating rather seamlessly with one of my closest friends. Sadly, she moved to Arizona less than a year later so this swimming tradition died.

She is "prombly" one of the coolest digital photography teachers they have seen in those parts. But it's sad to have her so far. We've shared the same style in dance pants, the same taste in beauty, even the same taste in men (ahem, my bad on that one). So, on this very awesome August 23, I just want to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY JO. Love yo' guts (you know, I figured since you loved birthdays SO much, I would make it as public as possible for ya. Plus, you're not around to kick my butt for it).

fatigue

Is it possible to get Olympic fatigue? Just as I started to get over-saturated on swimming and gymnastics, track and field starts. So now my interest has been rekindled. Yet, I find most of the sprinters much more arrogant than the other athletes. It's not as though there is anything of interest on television, so I appreciate this over re-runs. And although I find these athletes incredibly inspiring, I can honestly say that I'm glad there will be another two years before I endure 24 hours a day of Olympics. Am I alone in this?

PS-Brilliant idea that they began alternating Summer and Winter Olympics. I couldn't imagine doing this twice in a year.

Would you rather...

-Get punched in the arm?
-Stub your toe?
-Bite your tongue?
-Hit your head on a door frame?

I stubbed my toe so badly yesterday that it still hurts. I'd rather get punched. I do enough of the other three that getting punched is a novelty.

I strongly believe that stubbing your toe is one of the worst pains EVER.

who needs poopy boys anyway?

The title of this post is a direct quote from a dear friend in response to an email I sent today.  I don't intend this as a single woman's rant about men. I rarely fill this blog with "whoa is me" diatribes. I suppose I am hoping that some emotional vomiting will somehow fix things. 

There are days, weeks and even months when I feel as though I have everything together. I'm confident, strong and fiercely independent. Then out of nowhere, it quickly comes crashing down around me. So it's not really about "poop"-y boys. It's my own frustration at how easy it is to decorate my room with streamers and balloons for my personal pity party. At the pity party my cynicism of single males takes flight. I can berate all the single men I know, the ones I don't, the ones dating my friends or not dating my friends, and all imaginary 20-30 something men. I categorize them in to commitment-phobes and full of issues that none of my friends or I could ever possibly struggle with. And yet, stereotypes and generalizations are a pet peeve of mine. 

So, I look at my decorated room and know deep in my heart that I have to take them down but I don't want to... because this is my party and I'll cry if I want to. This party is a waste of time and never enjoyable. It's like those parties you go to where you look at your watch, wondering when you can leave without looking rude. You cringe as each minute ticks by, knowing it is sucking another minute of your precious life. You start to think that waterboarding would be more fun than this party. You plan your escape and take a deep breath as you leave the festivities. Gratitude flows through you because you are free. You vow never to get sucked in to one of those things again and kick yourself that you got bamboozled in to yet another crappy party. 

Soon this party will end. I'm just looking for my escape route.

my broken heart

My new love is gone for another year and my heart is aching. It is too much for this single girl to bare. I said goodbye several hours ago and am trying to avoid the natural despair that comes from pangs of loneliness. This love caught me by surprise. I entered feeling somewhat skeptical but quickly fell madly in love. Now my only solace will be watching my love over and over again on YouTube. Farewell So You Think You Can Dance.

I will dream of this:


I will smile at this:


And this will always take my breath away:

forced touch

Every summer, EFY descends upon P-Town. This morning I saw many of these fine youth strolling arm and arm up the street. I thought it was sort of silly to make the kids link arms but thought they were being trained in the art of chivalry. However, driving home I saw several more groups of kids all linked arm and arm, and then I thought it was just plain stupid. I've never been fond of forced touch with the opposite sex. So, I would have hated to be told that I had to link arms with some random dude that I would have met 24 hours earlier... only to be required to publicly walk down a busy street. This does not teach teenagers how to be respectful to each other. It just teaches them how to deal with public humiliation.

things i hate this week (and always)

1. Vacations ending... especially when they involve family and a good friend. My trip to Canada was much too short. It was chock full of fun, so it was sad to say goodbye. (See Wind in the Hair blog for more amazing photos)

Love this kid (and the other 12 too)

Love this place, especially when I see nuns canoeing.

Love this girl!

2. Thinking I have the house to myself for a whole weekend only to have a roommate return home Saturday night. I guess eating breakfast naked is out. Blast!
3. Sunday nights because it means I have work the next day. Why can't every job have four day work weeks? I guess I would then hate Monday nights.
4. Sore knees. Ice, ibuprofen, repeat. Argh.
5. War. I watched War Dance this weekend. There are some things that are unforgivable and some of those things happened to these innocent kids. The children in this movie had some of the most horrible, unimaginable things happen to them and yet, they were still able to find moments of happiness in their life. It reminds me how much I take for granted. It makes me want to do more in my life and help those that are truly suffering.

What are you hate-or-ating on this week?

cash folks

Yesterday I did a little shopping at Costco while I had my tires rotated (safety first when you are roadtripping it). After I purchased my things, I went to the in-house food place to get a drink to quench my thirst. It came to $1.56 and I only had 79 cents on me, so I pulled out my debit card. I was informed that they only take cash or cheque. Seriously??? I could see the credit card machines behind the counter. I had just spent 70 bucks on four items and this guy is telling me I can't use my card? So, my little drink went to waste and I left miffed. Once the drink has been poured, it's only going to get chucked. They should have just given it to me for free to aid in my irritation AND embarrassment. I know I should carry cash, but who the crap carries cheques anymore?

Ridiculous.

uh

Clearly I need a life because conquering all the levels of brickbreaker tonight was the highlight of my week. My cell phone came with this game and it has been driving me crazy for almost a year. When I finally conquered all 34 levels I was surprised to find out you just start back at level one and keep going. I also discovered there are numerous sites dedicated to brickbreaker... like ways to cheat the game (if only I found this earlier) and then there is this dude who has a whole site dedicated to his brickbreaking games.

because, seriously...

... they're so blessed.

Since I haven't been writing too much, you ought to check out my new favourite blog. The writer is "seriously so blessed." If you get a good chuckle at Utah County Mormon culture, are "greatful" for friends/families cheesy blog posts, and appreciate satire then this blog's for you.

Seriously, So Blessed

I'm stoked because today the author announced that she is "pregnant." Ahhh, more things to laugh at.

why i shouldn't be allowed outside

These are two separate burns on two separate weekends


Every year I think my white white white skin can handle the sun. And every year I burn. I might be one of the top candidates for skin cancer in the nation.

Maybe next week I'll remember the sunscreen.

wasatch back

On Friday I raced with Team Sweetness in the Ragnar Series Wasatch Back. It was the most incredible experience. We covered 181 miles of some of the most beautiful mountain passes in Utah. We had a team of 12 runners each running three legs. My van was full of fun, encouraging people. My first leg was in 94F (34C to my Canadian readers) weather. It was hot, hot, hot. My teammates did an awesome job of cooling me down with water. After a failed attempt at sleep for all of us, we got the call from the other van that they were an hour away from our next exchange point. So we hopped in the van bleary eyed but excited. We hopped ourselves up on caffeinated Gu and Propel water. My next leg of the race was the most beautiful. It was about 1 a.m. and the moon was shining brightly. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could make out a lake and beautiful rock formations. It was one of the most amazing runs I have experienced. After our leg was done, we drove to a high school gymnasium to try to finally sleep. I think I managed at least an hour nap before we had to get moving again. My last leg of the race can only be described as pure hell. I was exhausted, it was hot and the hill was a beast. I think I walked most of it desperately trying not to cry. My quads were on fire and my heart felt like it might explode. Jessica killed the second half of the hill. She is my new hero! She has the bragging rights of running her whole leg. Our team finished the race in about 28 hours and 27 minutes and I was damn proud of us. Most of my friends can't understand how running that much on such little sleep was fun but it just was. The camaraderie was amazing. My teammates were exceptionally encouraging and so fun. I came home exhausted and had one of the best sleeps of my life. Crazy thing is... I can't wait to do it next year.

If you're curious, check out the slide show. Jessica also has more on her blog.

sometimes i am mean

And sometimes I don't care that I'm mean. Take for instance this quote from a mass email sent from somebody from my church:

Again we are sooooo sorry I hope none of you loose your testimony of the church over this or are offended and never come back to church because I really won't have any sympathy for you if you do jk. We are not perfect but the church is so please forgive us.

I may not lose my testimony over an activity that was cancelled without due notice (probably because I wouldn't go anyway) but the sentence itself sure does make me want to "be free from obligation" toward such future activities. (Please see the this definition to catch my not so subtle joke)

Reading this sort of email when I am tired is a bad idea because I think such wicked thoughts. I know I've made plenty of mistakes with words but the loose/lose mistake was so much more ridiculous due to the whole tone of the email.

Now I'm off to bed wondering if tomorrow I'll still snicker unkindly when I think of this.

if i were going to buy a knife...

I run by this sign twice a week. Every time I look at it I think of murder. The name "Krazy Dave" reminds me of butcher knives and such. I still haven't been able to figure out where the store is to buy the knives but Dave, the Krazy one, might be the guy that sells them. I don't know but it kind of scares me.

clumsy

There are three reasons why a clumsy person should NOT use clipless pedals.

1. Bruised knee
2. Bruised bum
3. Bruised ego

My friend who told me that I'll only fall once on my bike and never do it again is a LIAR. Perhaps she meant to say I'll only fall once per year.

My right butt cheek has hurt all day and I can't cross my left leg over my right.

Le sigh.

memorial

Memorial Day is an American holiday that I appreciate. Americans have a beautiful tradition of bringing flowers to the cemetery of their buried loved ones. These photos don't quite do justice to the impact that this actually makes.
When I walked through the Pioneer Cemetery I couldn't help but think of three people that I love.

My Grandma Kelly is my modern day heroine.

She received her Bachelor of Fine Arts in her 50s. She made a killer cucumber sandwich and taught me just how tasty marshmallows in a freezer can be. She died far before her time but fought her cancer as much as she could. I am forever grateful for this painting of me that she left as part of her legacy.

My Granddad and Grandma Rock met during WWII. My Granddad was a firefighter in London and my Grandma was a dispatcher. My Granddad loved to spoil us whenever we saw him. He had a terrific wit and loved to tease. My Grandmother left a legacy of service. I don't know if she ever said a harsh word in her life. She also never failed to send a letter for small events like a cello recital to large ones like my university graduation. She died before I graduated from my Masters but I know I would have gotten a letter for that too. Although I wish they were both still here, I'm glad that my Grandma only had to live 6 months after my Granddad died. Perhaps she's still bringing him breakfast in bed up in Heaven.

They each touched my life in ways that cannot always be expressed in words. I'm thankful for days like today that remind me of my amazing grandparents.

something i never aspired to

Tonight the local news featured a Senior that didn't miss a day of school since Kindergarten. She wanted to outdo her father who had not missed a day of school after starting junior high.

My goal as a child was to see how much school I could miss. I remember one year my parents told me that if I wanted to go to England I could only miss a certain number of school days. Being bribed not to fake sick in junior high... Wow, I was a winner. I also have a not so fond memory of drinking pickle juice mixed with raw egg and peanut butter in hopes it would induce vomit. My mother was rightly convinced that I was faking yet another day of school and I was trying to prove her wrong. I didn't throw up but the smell of pickle juice can still make my stomach turn. Moms win every time.

Sometimes it surprises me that being a chronic skipper of school actually had little correlation with my educational attendance post high school. Thank goodness or I'd never hold down a job.

What are your favourite or least favourite school memories?

hot momma

I have one awesome Mum. She has one almost awesome dog. The dog gets awesome walks almost every day.

I have five awesome sisters (in-laws). They all have awesome kids, with two more on the way.


Happy Mother's Day to all those mommy's that I love. It feels pretty awesome to have you all in my life.

blah

Blah blah blah work. Blah not enough sleep blah blah blah. Blah blah stress.

One big blah

white and nerdy

I have already expressed my recent love for hip-hop... and have been "immersed" in the culture the last couple of months (meaning that I listen to it and hang out with someone that is much more an aficianado). I'm pleased to report that Auntie's love is starting to rub off on some kids that she loves. Parker still needs a bit of help throwing it down but at least she's got the CD in hand. Next step is sending some bling, working on slang and practicing our krumping. Still, I think they're on the right track.

shake it out...

How would you like to have this little present left on your floor by a stranger?


Back in March my sister-in-law had a carpenter come over to give an estimate on work. As they were talking she noticed something hanging out of his pant leg. These are her words from the true and hilarious story.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered that it was a pair of UNDERWEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!! He must have take off his pants the night before, and left his undies in them, then forgot about it, and they fell to the bottom of his leg - OR, while doing laundry they got mixed up - I think it was the former. Anyway, as he was walking along, they kept falling more and more out of his pants, I was scared they'd fall out when we were both standing there and he would be REALLY embarrassed that his panties (editors note: I hate the word she used here to describe his tighty whities) were sitting on the ground! I always walked in front of him in case they fell out and he noticed then he could pick them up without me 'seeing'. So they kept getting more and more out, then he sat at out table to write out the info, and when he got up, they fell out on my floor! Lucky for him, he didn't notice, and went on his merry way and was none the wiser. BUT, I had a gift on my dining room floor!

Lucky for him? She was the one that I had to dispose of them. So people, shake out your pants if you decide to wear them the next day. Needless to say he didn't get the job... although it may have had nothing to do with him leaving a pretty white present behind.


If the carpenter that owns these happens to be reading this post, you can find them at the house where these cute munchkins live.

venice...

I went to Venice.

Not this one:

But this one:


I had the privilege of going with Her Royal Highness. She had the privilege of experiencing a Venice beach washroom. If you follow her link, you'll see one of the fine places one can use to drain their bladder. Having experienced this once before I was more mentally prepared than her. However, I was unprepared to have a man tell me I was "stunning" as I washed my hands. I must have looked rather shocked, as he quickly followed it up with "I mean that in the most G-rated sort of way." It was flattering but "stunning"? Not an adjective I'm used to hearing about my looks. Cute, pretty... sure. But stunning? Hmm, that's stretch.

Of course, when you're surrounded by mountains it is important to always get your feet wet when you see the ocean (even if it is freezing cold).


Always a sucker for beautiful men, especially ones playing b-ball or skate tricks, HRH caught me in the act.


She allowed me to pollute her ears with sinful hip-hop music and I allowed her to pollute my body with In-N-Out burgers and fries. Overall we were a pretty good balance for a work/fun trip to LA. Cause this is why, this why, this is why we're hot.

i'm a slacker

I want to blog, I really do. But when I get home, it's the last thing on my mind. This past month has been a whirlwind of work visa, taxes, and craziness at work. I've likely lost all my readers and maybe one day I will redeem myself.

Today I started race season preparation. I am now a proud owner of my very own wetsuit and aerobars for my bike. My first race is this Saturday but involves neither of those items. It's the SLC half marathon. All it requires is my legs (and my head game). Let the racing begin.

when life happens

Ever have a week where you get punched, either figuratively or literally?

Sunday night I slept peacefully not fully anticipating the storm about to hit Monday. Boy did it ever hit. I've slept fitfully ever since. Today I pondered if this was the most stressful week of my life. And even if it is, I know I will have harder ones to come. The beauty of this week is knowing I am strong enough to weather the storms of my life. I know I will get through them. I also know that life is pretty darn good despite all the weight I am currently carrying.

That is the most peaceful thing I know at this point in my life. Storms can come but I've got enough of my emergency kit in place to survive.

confessions of a 30-something music snob

SONG HAS BEEN UPDATED... let's hope it works now.

There was a time in my life when I spent inordinate amounts of time perusing music sites in search of the coolest, newest, independent music. Then my life became an explosion of busyness as I started building my career and music searching went by the wayside. My work commute consisted of listening to NPR and I soon became an aficionado of world financial issues and American politics. I still listened to my indie music, went to a multiple of excellent shows, such as Of Montreal, Arcade Fire, Dandy Warhols, Regina Spektor, Mason Jennings, Rhett Miller and on and on.

I've worked with kids for 2 1/2 years that LOVE the hip-hop and R&B genre. The school vans seem permanently stuck on these radio channels. Most of the kids we work with are from California, so when I was out there last month I felt a wave of nostalgia for my former and current clients. In honour of them all, I listened to hip-hop all weekend. However, it had me so hooked that my station now fluctuates between NPR and hip-hop. While some songs enrage my feminist sensibilities, other ones get me smiling more than usual and dancing in my car. Give me a good beat and silly lyrics and I might just be your next shorty.

There, it's off my chest. I like "Kiss, Kiss", "The Anthem", "Stronger", "Superstar" and the list goes on. I'm no longer a closeted hip-hop listener. Coming out feels better than I could have imagined. I no longer have to hide my true self... an indie loving, NPR listening and occasional hip-hop enjoyer.

And as a treat to my loyal readers, please enjoy "Kiss Kiss" by Chris Brown. This song gets my jiggy on more than any.
http://www.mediafire.com/?pde0y18nyy2

feet

Yesterday a salesman told me that my feet are "sisters not twins." He chose to throw this line out when I was feeling frustrated over the left shoe not fitting properly. I thought it was the lamest line I had heard in a long time but I ended up buying the shoes. So, who's lame now?

I'm just hoping the heel grip will actually keep my skinny left heel in to the shoe. They were just too cool to pass up.

Don't you agree? (I bought the black ones).

isn't it ironic?

A local story that's not really funny but sorta is funny. (I can only say funny because no one was hurt in the accident).

Check it out

a week in travelblog adventures

So, I went on a lot of trips since October and haven't posted any of them. I don't normally do. However, I decided to make this week an "Aislinn's vacation scrapbook." It doesn't require quite the mental energy and some of my family might enjoy it. The rest of you can take an extended hiatus from my blog, as it may be awhile before any original written content appears.

I will begin with my most recent expedition which was a solo work/play trip to San Diego. I decided to see what all the fuss was about with Sea World. My two sisters offered very differing opinions. One said "(Husband) and I really enjoyed it. In fact, I got teary eyed a few times." Other sister said "It's okay I guess, well if you you like sea creatures and stuff. It's really cheesy though." In the end I decided to say hi to "Wannabe" Shamu (because there really isn't a 'Shamu' anymore).


On my visit I was reminded of my teary-eyed sister's extreme phobia of piranhas when we were young. She feared swimming in a lake in B.C. and was fit to be tied when her foot slipped in to my granddad's pond. Prior to her fear, I had never heard of those fish. I have no idea how her anxiety developed but it was hilarious. In her mind, Piranhas existed in every body of water. This is a warning to my sis: Look away if you're still haunted by these little guys.


Heading in to the shark encounter I ran in to the woman who won the "Most Overdressed Award." Perhaps she was on her way to a club when she decided that she and her family needed to see some sharks. (It was the shoes that really cracked me up. I just don't think walking around in heels all day is my idea of a good time)


So all in all, Sea World provided a pretty entertaining day. I guess I sorta do like sea animals. I do think it was overpriced but now I can say I have gone. There are still other tourist destinations I have yet to see, such as Disneyland. Unlike most other children, my parents deprived me of this important childhood milestone.

The next day I headed downtown and walked the Pier. There was a homeless man yelling obscenities and such while I was taking pictures of some trees. I started to wonder if it was directed at me but I just pretended to be deaf. Here is my best 'artistic shot' of the trip.


And in case you're thinking I stole someones photos from Wal-mart, here's one of my many self portraits. (I am getting better at taking solo shots. A talent that will come in very handy during my single, travelling life).


And there is San Diego in my little nutshell.