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