MAP Musings

Oh Hey, Mamacita!

2011-07-07T12:27:00.000-07:00

My grandma (pictured on the far right) has a Facebook account. Some people...they're just so tech savvy. She posted over 100 pictures of the family over the years, what a fun thing to scroll through and see them!
Check out my mom, how cute! She's the girl on the right, or the one who looks like me, ha ha.

I have no idea what happened here, but I like to think of this as my mom's "model shot." She's giving the camera some kind of Naomi Campbell "Who goes there without my permission?" look.

Off the Sugar

2011-06-01T12:42:00.000-07:00

In reference to my last post, yes, I'm off the sugar. I did it briefly before Cancun which was great and after a Memorial Day weekend filled with the most delicious brownies I've ever eaten (thank you, Sarah), homemade candy (thank you, Carrie), homemade waffles with whip cream and strawberries (thank you, Tracy), and movie theater popcorn (oh, my gosh, REALLY?), I've decided to ground myself.

I'm only doing this for a couple of weeks though. It's not forever. I guess that's the plus side.

However, I just realized there is a bag of peanut M&Ms in my work desk. Ugh. Ordinarily, a very happy thing. This time around, a very sad thing.

A Lesson in Hashtags

2011-05-31T12:42:00.000-07:00

I have recommitted to my Twitter account. When I first signed up I thought it was pretty stupid and did not understand the reason behind it. Why would I use Twitter to read other people's status updates when I have Facebook? But then I discovered something magical: I could get all of my news off of Twitter. Suddenly I was catching up on CNN, FoxNews, E! Entertainment, Jim Rome (for any sports fans out there) all in one place (and often in the middle of my meetings which makes the pain of sitting in a long meeting so much more bearable).

Clearly, I had to share the good news.

I have converted one other follower, and what a follower he is. Every time I see him we have in-depth discussions about what's going on on Twitter. I have to admit, it's a little bizarre and we get the strangest looks. And now, rather than us actually texting or calling each other, we tweet to each other.

News Flash: Talking to someone face0-to-face no longer exists.

Conversation #1:
Me: Eating Mongolian Grill BBQ for lunch. #Delicious.
Friend: Love the hashtag but hashtag the place too! It sounds delicious!

Now, for a lesson in hashtags: all a hashtag simply is is a keyword. You can type in the hashtag in the Search menu on Twitter and pull up all of the tweets that have used that specific hashtag. Anyway...

Me: I bet when I tell you it's in Springville that would make it sound even more tempting! #TooFarAway.

Conversation #2:
Me: Decided to go off the sugar for a couple of weeks. Last time I did this I indulged unmercifully afterwards. #NoRepeats.
Friend: Why would someone do this? #QuestionSanity
Me: A very good point. #HaulMeOffToTheLoonyBin

And so, our friendship has now become a game of who can out-hashtag the other. Personally, I'm pretty sure I can win this one.

Goldilocks--43 Miles!

2011-05-25T13:38:00.000-07:00

Cycling season is fast approaching. Well, kind of. The rain is really messing with my plans.

My odometer from last summer said I rode about 150 miles. That seems like an exquisite waste when you think of all of the money I invested in road biking. But let's be real, I thought I would be natural on my bike. Turns out I wasn't. Therefore I was intimidated by it all.

Blah blah. It happens to the best of us. This is a new season.

The race we did last year (Little Red Riding Hood) filled up in a mere 23 HOURS. WTF!? Seriously. Apparently all of Utah's female riding population decided to sign up. However, we had an excellent alternative--Goldilocks. Another all-female ride. This time in Herriman which is much closer to my house and I actually liked it so much more.

I wanted this ride to be more relaxed than last year's somewhat-of-a-failure first time. Kaylin was nervous. I was detached. I made sure Kaylin ate a hearty breakfast of oatmeal which she barely choked down. I felt pretty good for the upcoming 40 miles ahead.

The race was (dare I say) a total breeze. I plugged in my iPod and was ready to go. Kaylin and I passed people left and right. We set a really good pace and in many parts we led the way for a group of girls we started riding with.

By the way, Goldilocks sold these adorable arm warmers. They came in a bunch of colors with the cutest polka dots. I really want a pair now.

Kaylin was especially impressive. She set the pace and I just followed her. Looks like all of her cycling in the gym is really paying off.

By about mile 35 I began to feel it. My legs felt like noodles. I suspect it had more to do with the fact that I didn't eat a mid-race snack. I really think something like a Cliff bar would have done the trick. Since then, I've tried to eat more when I know I'm going to do a long ride. It's had me thinking a lot about what I'm going to eat as a means of fuel and not so much just because I'm hungry.

At the last leg of the ride there was a very small hill to climb. Seriously, on fresh legs it would just be a hump in the road. But I had reached absolute fatigue and it was the hardest hill I met. My legs agonized with every pump and all I could think is I was almost there...almost there! This is funny to me because one of the hills we climbed mid-race took us over a half hour to climb and I didn't even have a problem with that. In fact, I really enjoyed it. I passed a lot of people on that hill which is certainly good for the ol' morale.

By the end, all smiles. I really loved this race. The terrain was so hilly and dynamic. Doing 43 miles has emboldened me somewhat. I feel really excited about cycling this season and can't wait to do more. I've decided to set the goal of riding 500 miles this summer. Who knows if I've got it in me, but it seems like a good goal to make!

The Things People Say

2011-04-22T14:29:00.000-07:00

This Sunday I will get on a plane that will take me to a bright, sunny, tropical place...Cancun!

Here's just a sampling of what people have said to me at work about my trip:

"Do you have any idea how dangerous Mexico is? Are you even aware of world current events? You should really consider watching the news."

"Don't drink the water. Have a Corona instead."

"You're on vacation, you can drink anything that you want. (Conspiratorial whisper) And it doesn't even count."

"You're going to be gone for a week? Do you even work anymore these days?" For the record, I do work.

"Maybe your trip will be one of those What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico."

"Have you seen Blue Streak? Just remember--'Don't nobody wanna go to jail in Mexico, man....' Words to live by."

(And my favorite)
"Who knows? You may never come back. What if you meet a tall, handsome, totally ripped guy and he wants you to run away with him?"
"Yeah, I think the likelihood of that happening is pretty slim."
"You're such a cynic. You would say no to a guy who had a boat and all he wants is for you to sail away with him?"
"Wow, this order is getting kind of tall."

The Lip Herpe

2011-04-06T12:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, those are my nasty cold sores. Maybe you can't tell because my lip is the size of a grapefruit in that picture. I think it's unfair that I drew the straw that gives me nasty cold sores when I'm in the sun too long or stressed out.

On the morning of the bridge move, I woke up to see my lip oversized and riddled with sores. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have mattered so much, I get them all of the time. But I was hosting a huge event that night with over 300 VIPs. After a quick trip to the doctor for the strongest stuff I could get (thank heavens for gay doctors who understand that I was there not because I was sick but because my vanity was at stake), I could only hope my hard hat would cast a long shadow over my ridiculously nasty lip.

This has got me thinking on my long history of cold sores and how I always lose the battle. They always find the most unpleasant moments to pop up. My top five cold sores in order of worse to even worser:

5. People told me that the mark of the end of finals week in college was an automatic cold. But I proved them wrong by getting one whopper of a cold sore as I literally walked out of my last final. I would have rather taken the cold.

4. Once, in high school, the cold sores migrated to my chin looking like a clash of zits and pimples. Not pretty and super painful.

3. Getting my first nasty cold sore due to overexposure of the sun. At 15, my family took wave runners out at Willard Bay in North Ogden. What's ironic about this mess is that I was legitimately trying to prevent any sunburns. I reapplied continuously but forgot two critical areas: the tops of my legs (which were burned from sitting too long on the wave runners) and my poor lips. Ugh. My lip ballooned to hideous heights. Aside from painful, it wasn't too much of a big deal, until my family met up with a family from our Alaska days with a beautiful son just two years older than me. And there I was with a fat lip that prevented any sort of actual smiling. I grimaced at him instead.

2. In perhaps the worst burn of my life, I was fried to a crisp after another family outing up at Mirror Lake in the Uintas. In truth, I was totally asking for it. I never though about getting burnt until I was dry heaving in my parents' car on the way back home from the pain. Again, I was met with another super fat lip and again, there was another boy I was desperately trying to impress. Since we worked together, he emailed me and said: Meet me in the break room. He wanted to talk Harry Potter as the final book had just come out. We chatted about the book and I kept a hand in front of my mouth. This was also my first time experimenting with the curly in my hair. I made it as curly and country star big as possible so as to detract any attention from my lip. It actually worked...for a while.

1. After, ahem, entertaining a gentleman caller one night, I woke up with a nasty patch of cold sores on the corner of my mouth. As this particular fellow was not LDS, Kaylin was quick to point out, "Do you find it ironic that you, a Mormon, probably gave herpes to a non-Mormon?"

Work Shenanigans

2011-03-31T11:48:00.000-07:00

Yes, we moved this bad boy. And yes, it made for a very long weekend. Still tired, but happy at how smooth everything went. Check it out.

The Lucky One

2011-03-30T15:34:00.000-07:00

Some people get lucky...and I am definitely one of them. I've had some good friends over the years (you know who you are) and these two are certainly among the finest. I met Annie and Rachel back in my Turnberry days at a pretty low point in my life. I was insecure, overweight, and had a terrible time meeting people and making friends. These two were immediate kindred spirits. Every Tuesday night we would do something together--dinner, Institute, a movie, card making--you name it, we did it. Over the years we still get together and it's always like we saw each other just the day before. They know all of my secrets and still love me anyway. The night this picture was taken, Rachel and I took Annie wedding dress shopping since she'll be getting married soon and moving away to Arizona! My heart breaks a little at the thought. But like I said, I am the lucky one.

Buck Up, Little Camper

2011-03-25T15:40:00.000-07:00

I've started doing this thing, which I think slightly annoys everyone, but I do it anyway. I'll see a friend of mine at work and I'll say, "Hi, little buddy." All of these friends are invariably male and they all take offense at the phrase "little buddy." One guy even once responded, "Um, hi...big buddy."

I guess guys don't take too kindly with the idea of being referred to as "little"?

So one day my co-worker Tad walked up to me and I burst out, "Hi, little buddy!"

He gave me the crustiest look before responding, "I'm not THAT little."

Whoa. Okay. That is not what I meant. He's a dude and I'm short. All guys are bigger than me. Even the short ones (like him, lol).

I laughed it off and told him he needed to relax.

Turns out I got a little karmic retribution a week later when another co-worker texted me with the phrase, "Buck up, little camper."

When he texted me that message I was away in a meeting and had left my phone at my desk. I did not respond. He instantly became paranoid that he had hurt my feelings (usually I'm all for some quippy banter).

His response: And then there was silence.

My response (once I got to my phone): I'm still mulling over the fact that you called me "little camper."

His response: It had nothing to do with your stature, I assure you.

My response: No, it's not that. It's just that I don't camp.

Bad Picture, Cute Idea

2011-02-28T15:43:00.000-08:00

I think it's just that time of the year, when it's dark and cold outside and I'm just tired. So I've been nesting again.

This weekend I tried my hand at homemade bread which required me to leave church twice in order to check on my rolls. Yes, it's a little over the top, and no, I don't think I will be judged too harshly for skipping out on the last half hour of church. It was for the greater good, you see. In my Saturday test batch, I killed the yeast. On Sunday, I was determined to get it right.

Result! They were delicious.

My rolls were followed by chocolate cupcakes with a homemade cream cheese frosting. I love cream cheese frosting. It's my favorite. BUT I'm not sure I can ever eat it again. I think I used 2 sticks of butter and 2 packages of cream cheese. There has to be a better way.

Again...they were delicious.

Yes, I am openly bragging. Deal.

My cupcakes were made with white chocolate stars...all in time for the Oscars last night. The picture above is blurry but hopefully you get the idea. I thought they were pretty cute.

Sexual Harrassment in the Workplace Part 2

2011-02-23T20:14:00.000-08:00

Let me clarify here...yes, my work is slightly inappropriate, but it's not like I walk down the halls in fear of catcalls and salacious invitations for drinks after work.

BUT, like I said, it can be slightly inappropriate. Let's be real, I really prefer it that way anyway. It's too much pressure for me to be adhere to too much propriety.

Yesterday I was sitting at my desk when D walked up. He kept tugging on his pants. "I broke my belt this morning and now my pants won't stay up. I really should have gotten bought another belt."

He looked at me as if a lightbulb had just gone off in his head. "Hey! I bet you have a belt I can borrow."

(By the way, D is in his late-30s and over 250 pounds.)

"Mmm...not really. I don't own that many belts. They don't work on girls with hips."

He gestured to a small portion of his waist. "I bet your belt would fit on about a quarter of my waist."

What do you say to that? It was kind of true.

"I mean, how big is your belt anyway? Your booty can't be that big."

And yes, I realize that this statement is far more inappropriate than the arm tickling.

I shrugged my shoulders in response. "It depends who you're comparing it to."

Sexual Harrassment in the Workplace

2011-02-21T12:10:00.000-08:00

Picture this: me standing next to my co-worker J discussing a map that has been taped to the wall.

Me: I need a smaller map of just this area, from here to here.

I'm standing on my toes and reaching up to gesture to an area. My arm is outstretched to the top of the paper which is well above my head.

Just then a different co-worker walked past us reaching out and, wait for it...tickled my armpit. While making some kind of Tickle Monster noise. You know, like you would with a baby.

I wish I was joking.

I stopped talking to my co-worker J and looked at the other co-worker in shock ... surprise ... maybe even fear? In the interest of protecting the guilty (not me this time), I will just refer to him as A. For a moment (that seemed to last an eternity) we just stared at each other guiltily. There was immediately so much shame between the two of us. It's like we suddenly had this dark, dirty secret.

J was confused. He heard the, ahem, Tickle Monster noise, but did not actually see the aforementioned weirdness that had just taken place. My face was red, and surprisingly, so was A's. And we were still just looking at each other, although by this point A kept looking away.

J: What just happened? What was that sound A made?

M: Oh, my gosh. A just...he just...tickled my armpit.

I am laughing so hard that I am hunched over and practically gasping for air. Did he really reach out and tickle my armpit?

J: Really? I thought he grabbed your butt.

M: No (still gasping), I think I would have rather he'd just grabbed my butt. It would have made things a lot less weird.

A (his face still red): Yeah, I don't know what just happened. I had a much different picture in my mind.

M: Did you really? I can't imagine what was in your head.

A: Yeah, um...

A just trails off while J and I laugh hysterically in the hallway. He looked so embarrassed that I almost felt bad. Almost. Not enough to stop laughing.

I will admit though that A and I had a hard time looking each other in the eye the rest of the day. Think nervous laughs and awkward eye contact. That was us.

Turns out today is A's birthday. Both J and I called out to A, "What do you want more, tickles or spankings?"

Oh, Hello, Blog. I Used to Know You Well

2011-02-20T19:31:00.000-08:00

Oh, geez...has it really be two months since I have even checked my blog? I feel good old-fashioned Catholic guilt at this. I have to be honest...my life is predictable. I work and I go to the gym. It is not all that interesting. It seems in one swift moment my life has transformed itself into a flurry of meetings and checking my BlackBerry. Yes, I have officially gone to the dark side. Don't judge, people.

On the bright side there has been SOME playing. Above is a picture of me and two of my favorite people: Becca and Kaylin. This is the night we went tubing at Soldier Hollow in Midway. It was a great night and I laughed my head off. Those are the moments I live for. I'm pretty lucky because I get to laugh a lot these days...in between discussions of potholes, bridge moves, and working for the Man.

Oh, My Lack of Common Sense

2010-12-06T21:33:00.000-08:00

I do a lot of driving for work...A LOT of driving. I fill up my tank of gas maybe twice a week, which sucks a little when I think of the days when I used to fill up my gas tank once every two weeks.

So picture me at the gas station last week leaning over to my purse to grab my wallet as I get ready to fill up my gas tank. And as I dig through my purse it becomes increasingly obvious that my wallet is not there.

It's in a different purse. At home. Dammit.

Fortunately, I had enough gas to get back to my office but I definitely did not have enough gas to make it all the way back to my house. I was feeling slightly panicked.

I called Mindy who works in Utah County like me--no answer. And then I emailed her. No answer. (Subsequently, we're not speaking to each other because she still refuses to answer my questions. Weird, right?)

I racked my brain.

And then I did what I was hoping I wouldn't have to do. I leaned over to my buddy John who sits next to me and motioned for him to come over. "John!" I whispered, "Come here!"

John, is one of my favorite co-workers. We go out to lunch every Thursday and he's constantly introducing me to tasty restaurants I would never have thought to try. We laugh all day long. I coach him on the basics of sports (which may be the most hilarious thing ever) and he instructs me on what shoes to wear with what pants. And no, he's not gay. Just one very metrosexual man. His eyebrows are perfect and he's always sporting a very fetching tan. In a nut shell, I love this guy.

But still, I was just about to ask John for money. I was feeling supremely awkward.

"John," I begin. "Would you mind..." I trail off as my whispers become almost uninteligible.

"What?"

And then in a rush I said, "I left my wallet in my other purse and ironically my car is almost out of gas and I was hoping you could spot me some money so I could at least fill up my gas tank enough so I can get home tonight. I promise to pay you back tomorrow! I swear I have cash in my wallet, it just conveniently happens to not be with me. Did I mention that I left my wallet in my other purse? And the spindle showing my gas level is teetering closely to below the red line? And I promise you I will pay you back tomorrow...I'm just so embarrassed. All I need is $5 and I'll make it home..."

And on and on and on.

John looked equally uncomfortable. I haven't felt this embarrassed in a long time.

"Well, actually, I do have some cash. It's in my car though. You'll have to come to the parking lot with me."

This was not exactly what I wanted to hear. I was really hoping he'd just pull some money out of his pocket and we could make the transaction as quick and painless as possible.

So I followed John to his car. Along the way he picked up a fellow who was headed out to a meeting with John. This guy (whose name I don't know) gallantly began walking to the back seat so I could have the front. He was assuming that I was coming along to their appointment. I didn't know how to say that actually I wasn't going with them, I was just following John out to his car so he could give me some money.

Even as I write these words, I cringe. If someone were telling me this story secondhand I would think they were being a tad overdramatic, and yet I cannot stress enough how embarrassed I felt.

"Oh, you don't have to take the back seat," I said. "I'm just picking something up...from John's car."

By now John was relishing this newfound power that he was now my official sugar daddy. He kept chirping in my ear with little teasings like, "Don't spend it all in one place," and "I wonder how far you can go with $5, I'm sure to China!"

John grabbed his wallet and pulled out a wad of bills and handed me $5. The guy we had picked up exclaimed, "Wow! What do I need to do to get John to give me cash?!"

Ugh. You can be a tool like me.

Like I said, I paid John back his $5 and included chocolate as well. I'm sure it's something we can laugh about now....

Can't Lose With A Lemon Cupcake!

2010-11-22T13:53:00.000-08:00

My ward had a 4-ward chili cook off and dessert bake off last Monday and laughingly, I signed up. I just figured I'd bring a dessert but Kaylin had the bright idea that I make something lemony with candied lemons. So here are my lemon cupcakes with lemon cream cheese frosting and candied lemons on top. I can't lie, they were a super hit and I WON the bake off! It was a Phillips clean sweep when Kaylin's name was called as the winner of the chili cook off (although let's be real, she can cook anything. This was a no brainer.) I have to admit, I was pretty proud of those cupcakes. I'd never baked anything that had looked so pretty.

It's Starting to Snow...This Makes Me Smile

2010-11-22T13:46:00.000-08:00

I know I'm supposed to curse the colder months. It means getting sick and having to stay inside. And sometimes, it means an epic car crash in the middle of Oregon. But I LOVE it when it snows. I love how peaceful everything feels when the snow is falling. I love how the sky lights up in the middle of the night and turns kind of pink. I love that the snow means cute hats, coats, and boots. I love that it means I get to experience all of the seasons in the year. I love that the for a brief moment, all I can think of is how beautiful the world is. And it leaves me so full of gratitude.

It's Good to Have Friends

2010-10-24T12:38:00.000-07:00

Hanging out with my good friend Rachel. Highlight of the evening (for me) was when Rachel said, "Didn't I tell you about the text? I didn't? Okay, let me tell you...."

Steel-Toe Boots

2010-10-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that I like my job and that I like construction workers and engineers. Let's be real, construction workers can be so funny, especially when they're trying not to swear in front of a "lady" like myself.

This morning I strapped on my steel-toe boots because I had to go onto the work site. Again, let's be real, I wear heels at every possible chance. This may explain the puzzled looks I got from my roommates this morning.

The View from My Bike

2010-10-20T11:19:00.000-07:00

The view from my bike overlooking the valley. I really do love Utah in the fall.

Oh, and a picture of me. In case you forgot what I look like.

BYU Football! (It's Been Years...)

2010-10-13T15:37:00.000-07:00

I haven't been to a BYU football game since college--I probably don't need to tell you how long that has been! I sang the Fight Song with pride, watched the instant replays, and girl talked with my friend Annie while keeping one eye on the field. Periodically, I would jump up in the middle of something she was saying so I could yell at the field. I felt a little bad, but who knew I had such a competitive edge?

The good news is that Annie and I are good luck. BYU won after two very disappointing and embarrassing losses. We'll probably have to go to more games in order to help the cause.

All Things Relate Back to Anne Shirley

2010-09-29T13:58:00.000-07:00

Last night when I got home, I found my sisters Kaylin and Alicia, Alicia's roommate (I think her name is Megan), and Mindy all sitting on the couch watching TV.

Kaylin turned to me. "I wish you had been here earlier. Troy (our landlord) came over and asked us for advice and I was weirded out."

Turns out Troy had dropped by for a little house business and then wanted to lament over the fact that a guy he knows who is about our age proposed to his then-girlfriend with a pearl and not a diamond. According to Kaylin he said, "Can you believe that? A pearl! I saw the ring and it was just this round thing sitting on a ring. Seriously, can you believe it?"

Kaylin and Mindy were nonplussed. They didn't exactly see the problem, but that could have something to do with the fact that we so rarely see engagement rings these days. Although I think he has a point...a pearl?

"Well," I pointed out, "Gilbert Blythe did propose to Anne Shirley with a pearl."

Kaylin just stared at me, confused and a little irritated because she knew I was being retarded, but Alicia definitely knew. As the only other redhead in the family, she knew the Anne of Green Gables reference.

And then Alicia's roommate said, "Who's Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley? I guess I don't know these people."

Ha! This Is Funny!

2010-09-28T14:29:00.000-07:00

My sense of humor came back to haunt me on Saturday.

My cousin Tracy just bought a house and I spent Saturday helping her move and painting her kitchen. Tracy is so organized, all of the boxes were nicely labeled and eventually we had a good system going as to where to put each box.

It came as something of surprise when I saw a box with my handwriting on it--I'd forgotten that I had helped her pack a few things when she moved out of her first house last November. (Read here if you'd like a good story from when she moved out.)

And then it came as even more of a surprise when I saw what I'd written:
Fragile: must be French.

Please tell me you've seen A Christmas Story.

Good Times

2010-09-21T20:15:00.000-07:00

Hanging out with my friend Carlye while up in Boise last weekend. Don't ask why we're sitting on a chair that says "The Naughty Spot." It's an incredibly long story. Oh, wait, that's never stopped me before...

A Few Late Bday Pics

2010-09-20T10:51:00.001-07:00

I had two parties this year for my birthday--one with my cousins and one with my friends. I guess this is the perk when you reach the fantastic milestone of 30. I just liked these pictures and thought I would post.

More proof that I cannot take anything in life seriously. Check out that bruise on my arm!

Summer brought a new addition to our family--a bbq grill. We're grilling machines these days. Kaylin gave me an apron with the phrase "I turn grills on." She didn't realize its full meaning until I pulled it out of the plastic. I thought it was hilarious.

The world's best chocolate cake...and I don't even like cake!

With some great friends, Rachel and Annie.

LOTOJA--Or The Thing I Am Lusting After

2010-09-14T20:02:00.001-07:00

Saturday, September 11 was one of those epic adventures. No, I didn't do anything interesting or impressive. But my friend Russell did! And I was there to witness it. Seriously, I'm still marveling over it.

The LOTOJA race is a 206-mile bike race from Logan, UT to Jackson, WY. Russell rode 206 miles in 13 hours, suffered 2 bike flats, and 1 exploding tire. This man is THE MAN. It was just so exciting.

Kaylin and I and his friend Adam were his support crew. We basically drove to each feeding station and made sure he had food to get him through to the next stop, changed out his water, and basically acted as his cheerleaders.

This is just outside of Afton, WY and is was SO.FREAKING.COLD.

Although I felt like a bit of a voyeur, I had to take a picture of this super tall guy. Look at him! He just towers over everybody. Turns out this guy is Shawn Bradley, one of the tallest NBA players...or at least that's what I'm told.

One of the feeding stations. We were such amateurs helping Russell--we put his food in grocery bags and fumbled to give him what he needed when. Instead, other people showed up with shower caddies with food neatly laid out. We looked ridiculous next to them. The other sad thing was that a couple of times Russell actually beat us to the feeding stations. We felt terrible. Not only did he arrive at one more milestone in his race only to discover that his friends weren't there, but time was a-ticking, and he needed his food so he could get back on the road.

(If you're wondering why he actually beat us to a feeding station, imagine 2000 bike riders with 2000 (at least) support crews. Traffic was not always quick and efficient. Sometimes cars were diverted to a different route so the riders could have the road all to themselves.)

I imagined that as we reached each feeding station we would have an hour or two to kill while waiting for Russell. Not so. There was barely any time for us to rest because Russell was always hot on our heels. With each destination we would get out of the car, load up our food and water, and walk to the feeding station. Each time, Russell would show up mere minutes later. Even though it was fast-paced and rushed, it was also so cool to see that Russell was just killing it on the ride. He just brought it.

Consider me support crew, maybe Team Mom. I took a picture of Russell at each feeding station. I truly thought that with each passing station Russell would look more and more fatigued as the day went on. I was so wrong. He smiled big for each picture and always looked ready for more. Again, I was just wowed.

When we finally got to drive alongside the riders it was kind of exciting to see. Riders race in packs because they can draft off of each other which makes them go faster.

An unexpected flat. Good thing we were right behind him when it happened! We were able to quickly reach him and pull out the bike pump.

Again, just all smiles. I would have been pissed if I'd been struck with such bad luck. (Oh, wait, I was, and it wasn't even a race, it was a ride. Shows you I have a bad attitude.)

The End! Almost 24 hours later (in the car, no less!) we pulled into our driveway. I don't know how I made it to the end without falling asleep at the wheel because my eyelids were definitely having a hard time staying awake.

Russel is such a rock star. I know this sounds cheesy and a tad overdramatic, but I was just so inspired by this ride. Maybe it was the energy of the race, but I wanted to be out there so bad. I'm going to do it next year I've decided. I won't do the whole 206 miles, but they do do a relay and I think I can put together a team for that. Training starts...now.

Russell's going to be on my support team.

Just A Regular Day At Work

2010-09-06T19:44:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I get lucky. Last week my boss invited me along on a helicopter ride to take aerial photographs of the freeway. Granted there was a professional photographer to the real pictures, but I think I got a couple good ones anyway.

I have a real fear of heights and flying (NieNie anyone?). I guess the good thing is I had to face my fears to a certain degree. But by the end I actually felt kind of comfortable. Result!

Hey, These Questions Matter

2010-09-05T20:29:00.000-07:00

I'm hanging out with in Washington with my parents and all of my sisters this Labor Day weekend. We're boring people. We eat, watch movies, and have actually just spent the last hour and half watching YouTube videos. Check out The Battle at Kruger if you want to see something really gnarly.

If you didn't know, my sister Hillary is hilarious. She kills me.

Friday night my mom was telling me about her trip to the podiatrist because her feet were hurting.

"So, Melissa, I went to the podiatrist because my arches have been killing me. The first thing they did was do an ultrasound on my foot."

My mom was about to go into more detail when Hillary interjected, "Did it have a heart beat?"

My Submission for the Darwin Awards

2010-08-24T20:02:00.000-07:00

I am forever trying to find and maintain balance. And forever failing at it! I guess it's the process of this life. Since starting my new project, I have felt tired all of the time and have had trouble going to the gym like normal. All I want to do is sleep. And thus my life has achieved imbalance.

It must be the mono.

So I thought a nice thing to do would be to start taking a multivitamin...at least it would be a small step in the right direction. And maybe I wouldn't feel so tired all of the time? Right?

I know...it's a pipe dream, but whatev. I didn't think it would hurt.

So yesterday was the big day. I popped my vitamin into my mouth on my way to work. This was followed by breakfast which consists of oatmeal, craisins, brown sugar, and milk (my FAVE breakfast).

However, as soon as I finished eating my breakfast I felt queasy. Like the throw up kind of queasy. It came strong and it came fast, and too late, I was on the freeway. Never did I regret something as much as I did that stupid multivitamin. The inevitable was coming and I was trapped in my car prayng for just 30 seconds more. And another 30 seconds for me to get off at the next exit.

But too late. I was almost there--pulled over on the side of the road with my car door open--when I threw up in an impressive display of projectile gymnastics all over my dashboard.

Needless to say, it was something of a bleak Monday morning as I slowly got out of my car and cleaned it up with a spare blanket in my car. I debated turning around and just going back home, but I'm a responsible adult these days. People need me.

The real issue now is that I'm afraid of multivitamins.

Being Real...For A Second

2010-08-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

Maybe you're like me and you pick yourself apart from time to time and find every single thing that's wrong with you. I find myself doing it more often these days. If I went into all of the reasons why I do it...well, we'd be here all day. But lately, I've found myself thinking that I'm not as capable or likeable as I once was. Sometimes it just eats away at you.

For example, there are about a million things I'd like to change about myself. I have no idea why. I'm just an average girl...I just often think it's not enough.

Last week I was at the gym and was watching myself in the mirror as I did lunges off of the step from step aerobics class. For the record, that's one of the hardest things I do at the gym and I hate them. In no time I am breathing heavy and gasping for air.

This time as I was doing it I couldn't help but scrutinize every part of myself while doing these lunges. I was right next to the mirror and could see everything. I felt kind of low.

And then I noticed something--these lunges are 3 minutes long and as I said they are excruciating. But as I watched myself in the mirror, I saw how easily I was doing it. In my mind, my muscles ached for reprieve, but outwardly, my body seemed to handle it with no problem whatsoever. I didn't even seem winded.

I felt kind of proud and grateful for what my body can do. It made me look at myself a little bit differently. I didn't realize how much I am capable of.

30, Flirty, and Fabulous

2010-08-17T22:11:00.000-07:00

Mother Nature gifted me with a pretty good hair day for my birthday.

Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider

2010-08-17T21:36:00.000-07:00

Picture this, it's Saturday night and Kaylin and I have just gotten back from Bear Lake. We're tired and sunburned. We want nothing more to do than stay in and veg. The good news is that Kaylin had just bought Season 3 of Veronica Mars (which, if you have never seen this show and enjoy sharp, witty dialogue, you're missing out).

Kaylin is putting the DVD in when suddenly I hear the most awful, blood-curdling scream. It rang in my ears.

And there it was, Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider. For reals...it was scary looking. It had legs to here. I wanted it gone.

About a year ago, this guy came to my house named Karl. We called him Big Karl (I think) because he was this big brute of a guy. 6' 5", 300 pounds...massive. As he lounged on our couch I saw a massive red welt that was scabbed on his leg. Around the welt it was red as well. He said he'd been bitten by a wolf spider and had had that sore for about 2 months. Maybe he was leading me on, but all I could see when I saw Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider was Big Karl's big welt. I couldn't get it out of my head.

I looked at Kaylin and expected her to kill it. She looked at me and expected the same thing. We were clearly at an impasse.

But Kaylin was adamant...she was not going to kill Frankie. And so the job fell to me. I wasn't thrilled at the prospect. But I grabbed a shoe and prepared for the worst.

But I couldn't do it...seriously. I stared that gigantic spider in the eye (all 8 of them) and I could not kill it. So I did what any self-respecting woman would do. No, I didn't scream, I grabbed a water bottle and planned on drowning it.

To which Kaylin replied, "Are you really going to drown it? Seriously? Why don't you just kill it with your shoe?"

Yeah, I am officially a weenie.

But I tried to rally. And I pointed that water bottle at the spider just as it ran away behind the TV and Kaylin may have screamed a little. I went on the offensive and saw it behind the TV. I bravely pointed my water bottle at it again and went to town, drenching that massive spider in water. I felt pretty satisfied it was dead until Kaylin screamed again. Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider had run to the other side of the TV. The thing that I had been drowning? An already dead spider.

So then I decided that I needed something stronger than water--poison. Okay, I grabbed a bottle of Shout fabric cleaner and aimed to wage war on Frankie. Except that freaking wolf spider just ran off...practically skipped across the room! I got him with the "poison" and it didn't even phase him. Kaylin's screams were getting louder, by the way. I swear, Frankie was outfitted in head-to-toe armor. It actually made me a little more nervous. If he can withstand Shout fabric cleaner, what else can he endure? And yes, I realize the absolute idiocy of that statement.

Finally, I succumbed and just did what I should have done from the beginning. I grabbed my shoe. By this time Frankie was up on the wall. All I would need to do is pound my shoe really hard against the wall and bam! He'd be dead.

Except, really, knowing that he was practically made of steel, I'm sure he wouldn't be dead on the first try.

I steadied my hand and raised my shoe up.

"Don't miss, you've only got one chance," Kaylin said.

"I know!" I hissed.

Oof...I missed.

I cursed under my breath.

And then finally I had had enough. Let Frankie go down to sleep with the fishies, I thought as I slammed my shoe on the wall with force I didn't know I possessed. Like Zeus the Greek God. And I got him...finally.

I think Kaylin screamed one more time. The good news is, Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider is dead.

Mother Effing Moths

2010-08-17T21:26:00.000-07:00

Excuse my French...but we have mother effing moths in our house. Which didn't seem to bug (he he) us so bad until we discovered that they lay eggsin your food. Oy. I'm dying just thinking about it.

So Kaylin and I spent about five hours removing all of the food from our cabinets, wiping everything down in vinegar, and throwing out about 8 garbage bags of food. Oh, the joys of a bug infestation!

Out On The Road

2010-08-17T21:16:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I really hate this picture. I'm in need of mascara and some overall grooming. But...I thought I would take more pictures out on my bike and yet I haven't. Fail.

New Examples of My Awesomeness

2010-08-10T21:16:00.001-07:00

Today I plugged in the headphones into my computer and started streaming the radio. I had a list a mile long of things I needed to do at work and I was in the zone. And then my co-worker Lee walked up to me and asked me what I was listening to. He was kind of smirking...which isn't all that unusual for him...but still. There was an air about him.

I pulled out my earbud but could still hear my music...it was kind of loud, too loud. And then I realized, I had not completely plugged in my headphones all the way. Everyone could hear my music.

Thank heavens I wasn't listening to something embarrassing, like Dr. Laura.

...

The other day, I got a phone call from one of the safety guys at work letting me know that a publicly owned vehicle had been involved in an accident on the freeway.

"What's a publicly owned vehicle?" I asked him, because in my mind a publicly owned vehicle was...ah, it doesn't matter. I was way out in La La Land on this one.

"Um," he said, sounding confused. "A publicly owned vehicle is a car that is...um...owned by someone of the motoring public."

Oh.

And then he laughed. For a while.

Pioneer Chic Is the New Black

2010-07-21T11:32:00.000-07:00

This story makes me laugh. I know I've alread told loads of people and even posted it on my Facebook status, but I can't stop laughing about it.

People who know me know that the whole idea behind a pioneer reenactment really weirds me out. I consider myself blessed to have grown up in Washington and not subjected to a pioneer trek as a youth. I don't think we would ever have been friends.

I know...a pioneer trek brings a whole new perspective and appreciation for what the pioneers went through just to get to the Salt Lake Valley! I know...it deepens and reaffirms your testimony. But trust me...I appreciate it already. I don't want to have to reenact it.

I think it's the dressing up in pioneer garb that really gets me. I do not want to wear a long calico dress and a bonnet in 100-degree heat pulling a hand cart all with the intention of learning a life-changing lesson. Not ever. (Although I know, KNOW, that if the Lord ever blesses me with a husband, I am going to be compelled to go on one of those treks. Someone's going to ask me and I won't be able to say no, because even though I am LDS, I suffer extensively from good old-fashioned Catholic guilt.)

I know...I have a bad attitude about everything.

And so I was telling my friend yesterday at work how I think pioneer treks are weird.

To which she replied, "Well, you're kind of dressed pioneer chic today...in a good way, of course."

I tried to process this, but I kept hearing words like "pioneer," and "you look like one."

She had a point, and now I just feel self conscious. My dress was brown linen, there is a ruffle down the front just above the waist. But I also happened to be wearing brown, flowered espadrilles with a seriously high sole...so high that I'm sure there are some super models out there that would say, "Whoa, get back. I think I'd walk easier in spike heels."

And so I laughed...so loud and hard. I don't think she had any idea why it was so funny to me.

Do Not Judge The Picture Above

2010-07-18T20:00:00.000-07:00

So my blog background which I loved...LOVED...the one with the lined school paper and pretty marigold / green colors was shanghaied by the blogging website I stole it from. So sad. So I picked out a new blog template which subsequently took my beautiful picture of Bath, England and skewed it up.

I only say don't judge the picture at the top because I know a lot of you out there are all professional photographers and I just can't compete. I know I took the picture at 2:00 in the afternoon and that the bright light flattens all of the images...but, I like that picture of the Oregon Coast. No, it's no Bath...exactly. I've been to some amazing places in my day.

Little Red Riding Hood, My Life On A Bike

2010-07-18T18:22:00.001-07:00

I've been wanting a road bike for a while now. Spinning classes are great but I've kind of grown weary of them, to be honest. In truth, I'm a terribly judgmental student. If I don't like an instructor I'm severely critical. Yes, you can call me arrogant. But there are a lot of crappy gym instructors out there who think because they're skinny they'd make a great fitness instructor. No...that's not really true.

Okay, I'll get off my soap box, until I find something new to harp about.

So Kaylin, Mindy, and I bought bikes. It's actually been super fun and SUPER intimidating. I thought I'd hop on my bike and have no problem. That was before I became acquainted with the dreaded clips that clip your shoes into your pedals. I promptly discovered that I was not that great at clipping out.

And so...I've fallen multiple times off of it.

However, Kaylin, Mindy and I signed up for our first road race--the Little Red Riding Hood. Okay, it was more of a ride than a race. As I learned, there's a difference.

Check out my bike...how sexy is that? I know you can't really see it, but I think she's pretty.

That rack was only big enough for two. Kaylin squoze into the back with her bike.

Pre-ride. If only I knew then what I know now. It's funny how when I embark on something new I typically make a million mistakes before I "get it." What's even funnier is this principal applies to just about everything in my life...which should tell you that I'm hopeless.

The line to the bathroom. Seems kind of long, but I snapped this shot just before the next rush of females came rushing in.

Here is where the excitement begins. It was my first ride and I felt a little overwhelmed and rushed. I had this overwhelming need to prove myself as a legitimate rider. What's ironic is that the Little Red Riding Hood ride was merely a ride...nothing else. There were girls on beach cruisers, mountain bikes, road bikes...and they were all just cruising. They were just riding. They didn't care.

And yet, I felt like I had to kill it. I was actually doing fairly well until I hit a railroad track on an underinflated tire. (I know this now after much soul searching and asking the nice people at REI.) As a result, my tube popped just as Kaylin flew by and when I realized my tire was flat, Kaylin was long gone. And I was all alone on a long, deserted road approximately 15 miles from my destination.

Dude...sometimes my life just sucks.

I walked for about 2 miles as girls zipped by. I was so pissed that my tire busted on me. Until a nice lady stopped and showed me how to change my tire. She even rode with me a little bit of the way.

By the way, I was still pretty pissed.

When I finally made it to "home plate," Kaylin looked like she was going to pass out from relief. I actually felt really bad seeing the look on her face. She had no idea where I was and had heard a rumor that a girl had dislocated her shoulder along the ride. She had visions in her head of it being me.

But we all finished. No, it was not a stellar performance but it's all about the experience. And you have to admit that it's a pretty funny story. I can say that now--a month after it happened.

See! I even had a smile on my face! Mostly it was just relief that it was over because I was over it.

On to the next adventure. I'd like to try a century someday--100 miles. I'll really need to train for that.

Mmmm...

2010-07-18T18:19:00.001-07:00

I got a parting gift on Friday after eating out for lunch--food poisoning. Needless to say, I am not my best self and can only tolerate toast and ice cream. But...I did make these blueberry muffins this morning, and they were delicious.

Hey, You Guys! My Trip to Oregon...

2010-07-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Last year I went on a trip to England . . . this year, to Oregon. Doesn't really seem fair, right? Actually, no, it was amazing and a lot of fun. My grandparents have a ranch in Oregon and I spent many summers at the ranch. This year, Kaylin and I decided to venture out. We went with our cousins Sarah and Tracy to Seaside, Cannon Beach, and Astoria before heading down to the ranch. I tell you what, a vacation was exactly what I needed. I actually woke up this morning feeling refreshed. I don't think that has ever happened.

Anyway, if you've seen The Goonies, maybe you'll recognize these rocks. They play a predominate role in the movie. I gotta say, I love that movie. We watched it again at my grandparents' and I couldn't stop laughing.

This is Haystack Rock. We visited it at low tide which gave us so much more to look at--we ventured out onto the rocks and checked out the sea life. I was surprised at how much we saw--starfish, sea anemones, and crabs.

Sorry to gross you out, but these starfish are spawning right now...they eek their "goodies" out into the water which are then received for reproduction. I don't know how to put this any more delicately. But check how many starfish are clinging to the rocks! Usually when I think of starfish I think of them being dried out.

We made a stop at a candy shop to pick up salt water taffy. So good.

Does this look unladylike to you?

This is inside the Astoria Column...basically it's just a tall tower that overlooks the city. It had a pretty spectacular view. A lot of stairs to climb up but nothing compared to Bunker Tower in Boston!

What? This isn't Talk Like A Pirate Day?

Inside one of the biggest busts of all time--the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Was it wrong of me to expect more from it? Clearly I have a problem with too high of expectations. This picture is basically it of the cheese factory--this is all I saw. Even the cheese didn't taste that good.

No, really, they just offered me cheddar and pepper jack. I can get that at the store.

Okay, the ice cream was good...although not as good as Umpqua ice cream. If you've been to Oregon, you'll know that stuff is off the hook.

We finally got to the ranch after an amazingly long drive in pouring rain. Bleh. This picture is of one of my favorite spots on the ranch...this little covered bridge over a creek. It's not even on my grandpa's property but I love to look at it every time.

We traveled to so many beaches on this trip. What is it about the water that is so calming and soothing? I tried (in vain) to get some action shots of me in the water so I could update my facebook picture with something cute. I failed miserably. I think I'm too old to be cute. However, this picture of Hillary is ridiculously cute.

We found some cool rocks that we tried to walk across until we came across not one, but two couples who were aggressively making out. Talk about awkward.

We were really lucky when we got to Winchester Bay (one of the many beaches we traveled to). Usually when we go to the coast it's grey and overcast. This time the clouds practically opened up and the sun came streaming down. It was sunny and warm...and just perfect.

We also traveled out to Heceta Head...another beach. This was another one of those gloriously beautiful days. I couldn't believe how lucky we were to have two days of such good weather.

I just wanted to swim but nobody swims in the Oregon Coast. Ice cold, baby. But it was so nice I was thisclose to just jumping in.

And on to my favorite part of the trip--Cape Perpetua. One of the highest points you can get to to overlook the beach. I couldn't believe this view.

Seriously...take a look. Can you believe this view?

Kaylin and I took a pit stop in Portland before we had to return our rental car. I'm sorry...it was kind of weird. According to two of my co-workers, we went to the wrong part of town, like the part where they give crack away like candy. This man on a bike rode up to Kaylin and me as we were walking around and asked us if the blue grass festival was still going on.

I was confused. "Sorry, I don't know," I said. And then I started walking away. Maybe that was rude? I don't know.

He looked us up and down, not in a skeevy way but like he was offput by our answer.

"You don't know?" He sized us up and down. "You from around here?"

We shook our heads. "No, we're from Salt Lake City."

And then he looked at us again before saying, "Uh huh."

Pause.

"I thought there was something different about you."

Oh, snap!

I blame the bright colors and flip flops we were wearing. If we had been wearing black and had tattoo sleeves covering our arms then we would have been right at home.

And so we come to the end of our whirlwind trip. It was a great time, although my mom and Alicia were sorely missed. It's just not the same when you guys aren't there.

Sometimes My Family Is Funny

2010-06-20T20:58:00.000-07:00

My dad had some health problems last week which prompted my dad's doctor to ask my dad if he had a will. My mom did not like that question at all understandably.

"Well," I asked, "Do you?"

"No!"

"Mom, you should probably make one."

"What are you talking about?" My mom sniffed. "If he dies, I inherit everything."

Oh, snap! Problem solved.

Check It! They Made A Website Just for Me!

2010-05-26T15:15:00.000-07:00

Check out the smartest new website ever. I sent this link to Mindy who suggested that one of them might want to play musical books with me. Long story about the musical books...but funny, Mindy! And I mean that sarcastically.

Happy Mother's Day!

2010-05-09T20:14:00.000-07:00

My mom is a crazy lady . . . and I love it. Happy Mother's Day, here are some of the things that I've learned from you:

1. That Christmas isn't just a holiday, it's a religion.
2. A sleepover isn't complete without toilet papering somebody's house.
3. How to snap a dish towel at someone's behind (my mom always chooses my dad, much to his chagrin).
4. Tom Selleck is sexy.
5. How to make legendary lasagna.

Love you!

Conversations with Mom and Dad

2010-05-03T12:18:00.000-07:00

Warning: Egregious swearing below!

Last night, while talking to my parents, my mom and dad told me their new LDS chapel has been completed and next week will be the first time in that building. It's kind of exciting. Our old chapel is old and more like a maze than anything else.

"How does it feel to know you had your last Sunday at the Toppenish building?" I asked. "Pretty damn good?"

My mom responded distractedly, "Sure."

My dad, however, always the scion of upright exactness, said, "Um, I would say that it's good, but just that."

To which my mom interjected, "Melissa, you swear too much! You hang out with too many boys!" She was referring to all those naughty, dirty construction workers.

Kaylin had to put in, "Yeah, right, Melissa is on the brink of spinsterhood!"

Lovely.

I HATE that Liz Lemon!

2010-04-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

When I said I was recommitting to balancing work / life a little better, I meant that I was going to write more on my blog. But I think I've told enough work stories for the time being. Sadly, what else is there to write about?

Here's a picture of Kaylin, me, and Carrie. No, it's not our best shot . . . we were shanghaied. I would have liked advanced notice so I could do my hair and make up! Kidding. But it's proof that I'm alive and actually go places.

Tonight Kaylin, Carrie, and I were watching TV when 30 Rock came on in which Kaylin brought up her extreme distaste for Tina Fey.

"Seriously, guys," she said, "I think that Tina Fey is butt ugly."

I looked at her in horror because I well remember her teasing me that my celebrity doppelganger was Tina Fey. I never much liked the comparison because who wants to be compared to the smart girl instead of the pretty one? Really . . . who?

"What?" She said in response to my expression. She had no idea.

"You really don't know why I'm looking at you this way?" Okay, I might have been a bit passive aggressive.

"No!"

"You don't remember all of those times you told me and everybody else that I look like Tina Fey?"

This resulted in laughter like I've never heard from Kaylin. It was almost worth being compared to a "butt-ugly" celebrity.

Almost.

Recommitted . . . Oh, And My Gaydar Just Went Off

2010-04-11T18:13:00.000-07:00

I'm recommitting to achieving and maintaining balance with my life. Does anybody else struggle with this? It's probably a lifelong pursuit, so here goes . . . again. And again.

I love working on my new project. I laugh all day long. So few people get to laugh as much as I do; I feel lucky. I come home with a million stories. People are probably tired of hearing my "funny" stories but I love sharing them.

Last week my co-worker John walked past me to his cubicle. It seems to be that this new project demands meetings all day long from all of us. Sometimes I like them, sometimes not so much. Sometimes I feel like a hamster in one of those running wheels, just going and going and feeling like you're not going anywhere.

"Melissa," he said, "What's going on in the world? I feel like I have no idea what's happening out there."

I can relate. My life has been going at warp speed since I started the new job. I barely even check Facebook these days, which is really saying something. It doesn't help that they blocked Facebook at work . . . those dirty rats.

"Hmm, let's see." I said. "Did you hear about the miners in West Virginia?"

"Yeah. Didn't about 25 die in an explosion?"

I nodded. "It's so sad. Working in a mine must be so terrible. It's so dangerous."

"And so dirty."

I gave him a look. "My gaydar just went off."

He got a confused look on his face. "Gaydar? Why? Because we're talking about coal miners?" He is absolutely clueless.

"Working in a coal mine must be so dirty." I mocked. "Gross . . . it's just so dirty. Ew, I just hate the dirt."

He burst out laughing. I did too. We sat there in our cubicles laughing mindlessly. He took it a step further and grabbed a banana from his desk and held it to his ear. "Ugh, I hate coal mines. They're so dirty. Ew. Dirt is bad."

A banana? What? He chose a banana of all things?

I was dying and couldn't contain myself erupting into loud, exuberant laughter. It carried throughout the office. I couldn't stop. Like I said, I just laugh all day long.

Tomorrow I get my safety gear--hard hat, protective glasses, reflective vest, and steel-toe boots. Are you as excited as I am?

Freudian . . . Slip?

2010-03-27T21:29:00.001-07:00

One night Kaylin sat down next to me in the living room while I was watching TV. The show I was watching had just started and I said to Kaylin, "This theme song makes me think of you. I think you'll like it."

And then the song started to play.

"Bent and broken is the family tree . . . "

An uncomfortable pause permeated the room before Kaylin said, "Excuse me!? Why would this song remind you of me?"

Awkward.

Mama Always Said I'd Be A Star

2010-03-22T19:40:00.000-07:00

My company must have run out of Adobe stock photos of smiling, happy employees so they put me on their website instead. If you need a good laugh, check it out here.

Friday Night

2010-03-12T19:18:00.000-08:00

Friday night. I'm watching Medium and staring at the same document I've been staring at for the past two hours. Ugh. Work is frustrating sometimes. So is doing it on a Friday night.

Taking On the Man

2010-03-10T10:34:00.000-08:00

So all joking aside, when my boss and I discussed how to infilitrate a small army of male construction workers, I really was listening. This project isn't like anything I've worked on. When I first started working on construction jobs, my boss said to me, "Don't talk to them like you're their friend. They don't like that. Just tell them what you want and then hang up the phone." She said this in response to my mentioning that every time I talk to one of those guys on the phone, they always sound super confused. I find this weird . . . I'm not asking them for directions on how to dismantle an atomic bomb. I'm just asking if there are going to be any traffic impacts that I should tell people about.

I've been working on this advice. It is so hard. I have a hard time just calling someone and barking out an order. I like to ease into why I'm calling. I like exchanging pleasantries. In short, I'm all girl. I prefer to say hi and then say why I'm calling. Isn't that the polite thing to do?

Here's what's funny: it totally works to bark out orders to these guys. They like it. Weird. I'm finding that almost all men are like this--not just construction workers. Just think about that.

Last week, I introduced myself to one of the construction managers. I stuck out my hand to shake his.

"I haven't met you, yet. I'm Melissa."

"Oh, hi, it's nice to meet you."

He just stared at me. Not in a creepy sort of way, but like he's expecting me to say something that will really impress him. Obviously, I did what anybody would do.

I panicked and started to ramble.

"Um, the last project you worked on--that huge one in Salt Lake--I work for the company that did the public information on it. You know my co-worker, right?"

He continued to stare at me. Nothing. No words came out of his mouth.

I started to breathe heavy.

"Well, she says hi."

Actually, no, she didn't say hi. I just had no idea how to wrap up.

I Totally Meant to Do That

2010-03-02T08:57:00.001-08:00

Saturday my sister Alicia was in town. So we headed out for some shopping.

By the way, I should not be allowed inside of DSW. I can't say no to anything in that place. And as I write, I'm wearing some fabulous new shoes I probably shouldn't have bought.

While at Target, Kaylin proclaimed she was going to reach into the depths of her generous heart and buy me a clock for my bathroom. Apparently every bathroom needs a clock. Who knew? I never gave it much thought.

We stared at a selection of $5 clocks. Simple . . . and cheap. Good enough for me.

Until Alicia said, "Those clocks are so noisy. You don't want that."

"Why does it matter?" Kaylin countered.

Personally, I didn't care, but Alicia made a big deal about how you can hear the tick of the clock and that it's so annoying. She has one in her apartment.

But I couldn't hear anything. I'll admit, I thought Alicia was being a little overdramatic.

"I can't hear anything." I said. I leaned down and put my ear right up against the clock. "No, really, I can't hear anything."

I was trying to make a point . . . I couldn't imagine it would be THAT big of a deal.

Alicia gave me a funny look. "That's because there aren't any batteries in the clock."

Oh.

Speed Dating . . . Sigh

2010-02-22T09:07:00.000-08:00

As the Activities Co-Chair at church, I occasionally get roped into stuff I don't want to do. Take speed dating, for instance. What a treat.

I expected the worst. No, really, I expected to leave the "event" in tears. Instead, I can safely say it wasn't that bad. But make sure you understand it wasn't really that good either.

A word-for-word account of my highlight of the evening:

Dude: Hi.

Melissa: Hi. Tell me about yourself.

Dude: I'm a spy. I spy on all sorts of stuff that would result in your death if I told you.

Melissa: Huh. Yeah, I'm a model.

Dude: Yeah, obviously. You should be a model. Look at you, you're the Bond girl and I'm Bond.

Awakward silence.

Melissa: No, really, what do you do.

Dude: I'm an artist.

Picture a flourish of the hands and a dramatic look to the sky. This is also when I realized that labeling him as a "dude" was a bit too masculine a title for him.

Melissa: Really? Art? What is your . . . um, medium?

It's just all falling apart right now.

Dude: I'm so glad you asked. I specialize in digital 3D art. It's the most inspiring work I've ever done. I've had jobs before where I can't wait for the day to be over. Now I'm wishing the day would never end! I just had my first show.

Melissa: Oh. Wow. Um . . .

Dude: It's so amazing to be able to do something with my hands . . .

Melissa: Oh. Yeah. Um . . .

Dude: Like, it's so inspiring. Because I'm an artist. I create masterpieces out of nothing. I am practically a hero.

Melissa: Yeah, I bet. Tell me about your show.

Dude: Well, we're running out of time.

He's suddenly bashful.

Melissa: We've got a second. What were they?

Dude: If you really want to know then you should email me.

This is my number one pet peeve. Do not put the ball in my court.

Melissa: Oh, well . . .

Dude: Let me give you my email address.

Melissa: Um . . .

Dude: Write my email address on your notepad and we can keep up this discussion.

Melissa: See, if I were brave, I would tell you that really I was only interested in you telling me about your "art" so that I wouldn't have to talk to you. It's much easier to appear interested than to sound interested.

Melissa: Clearly, I cannot win here.

Dude: Okay, it's [insert name]lovins@gmail.com

And this is when I looked into his beady eyes and thought to myself, I doubt you know anything about lovin. Just saying. At the end of the night, I left his email on a chair.

I couldn't help but agree when Kaylin said, "You know it's bad when you fail at speed dating."

You Never Forget Your First Time

2010-02-17T08:35:00.001-08:00

Lately, it seems that I keep hearing about the dangers of Facebook promoting infidelity among married couples. Maybe it's only Utah that is concerned about this, but there's always some warning against using Facebook as a means to reconnect with members of the opposite sex. The point is that it eventually leads to relaxed boundaries and suddenly, these newly reconnected friends are in love and leaving their spouses.

I think that this argument makes a fairly good point actually. When I think of marriages that disintegrate, it always starts with the small, insignificant stuff.

Yesterday, my old friend Dan* popped up on Facebook.

Dan: Melissa, how are you going to work on a road project and make sure your neon orange vest and hard hat don't clash with your Jimmy Choos?

Melissa: Dan, rest assured. If anybody can do it, that would be me.

Dan (in a sudden burst of excitement): This is so exciting! I've never actually IM'd on Facebook before! You're my first!

Melissa (in a typical burst of inappropriateness): Is it special for you? Because it's special for me.

And there you have it, folks. It always starts so innocently.

*Names changed to protect the innocent . . . i.e., the spouse.

If Only They Had Done It Sooner

2010-02-16T14:31:00.000-08:00

We have these neighbor kids who attract all of their little high school friends at their house. Inevitably, around 10 pm at night, you can see cars line up outside of the house and then gobs of people pile up into cars and leave. Once, I heard girls screaming in that annoying, we're hilarious sort of way as they passed us. I think it's pretty cute, to be honest. I think it's a great way to watch your kids without them even knowing it--make your house their hang out spot. Genius.

Two Halloweens ago, we had a mysterious case of somebody stealing our pumpkins. There were pumpkin guts all along the road. We were the victims of death by pumpkin smashing. I feel fairly confident in saying it was these kids.

Last night, as Carrie and I took the trash cans out to the side of the road, we FINALLY got rid of the hay bale that we bought for the fall season. Sadly, this hay bale, while adorable during Halloween and Thanksgiving, was a major eye sore during Christmas and the rest of this winter season.

Why did I not get rid of it sooner? It was too cold. And I'm lazy.

But last night we got rid of it and stuck it in our trash can. Except this morning it was mysteriously gone. The only traces of our hay bale were remnants of straw along the road.

Here's my thought: if only they had done it sooner. I feel like I should send those kids a memo and tell them they're welcome to any of our holiday stuff after the holidays. It would save me time taking it down.

Tomorrow I Will . . .

2010-02-09T12:51:00.000-08:00

. . . start a new job. Well, kind of. I'm joining a new project down in Utah County which is the equivalent of HUGE. I'll be working full time on the project beginning this spring. It's my company's biggest public involvement project to date and I'm the one who will be working on it. It's exciting and overwhelming all at once.

The butterflies are slowly working themselves out. I have spent hours talking with my boss about this project and how I'm going to approach it. We've been talking a lot about me asserting myself as a leader in the project and how to take control from the onset.

He took this moment to teach me a lesson:

David: Now, Melissa, understand that you're going to be working with construction workers. They're a little more, um, salty, than your average fare of consultants.

Melissa: Yes, I've worked with construction workers before.

David: And why did they like you?

Insert lead up to lesson.

Melissa: Because I'm a girl.

Consider me playing coy. This is not the answer he was looking for.

David: And?

Melissa: And, for a girl, I wear makeup and blow dry my hair.

Still, not the answer he's looking for.

David: And?

Melissa: Well, now that you mention it, I also have a bright pink purse. Those guys love to tease me about it.

He explodes. The opportunity for a tender learning moment between teacher and student has been lost.

David: NO! Because you went in there and you were smart and you demanded their respect!

Melissa: Oh, well, there was that, too.

Wake-Up Call

2010-02-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

I tend to think of myself as a fairly likeable person and so it's always strange to me when I feel people are ambivalent to me or dislike me. Yes, I realize this is an insanely arrogant thing to say, but I guess over the years I've learned how to be sociable and while I'm not perfect, I feel like I'm pretty good at making friends.

And so it's strange to me when I go somewhere and have trouble making friends. My confidence falters and I become hyperaware of everything I say and do. Later, I berate myself for having not been better, smoother, cooler. It's like I'm back in high school again. A memory I do not treasure.

My partner for my calling at church has that effect on me. I feel completely invisible around him. He has this tendency to stare right through me. And I can see the wheels in his head turning as he's trying to figure out how long he has to talk to me before he can get away.

To be honest, it's one of the most hurtful things I've experienced in a long time. It's terrible to feel obsolete. It also irritates me to no end and yesterday, after one of these delightful excursions, I spent the rest of the day angry and my frustration trickled down to other people who have hurt me. I suddenly became one big ball of anger.

This morning I was still mad. Angry. I was even considering switching wards because do I really need to be patronized in this way? Seriously, it's not like I harrass the dude. We have a pretty big calling and I'd prefer it if we were a team rather than independent spheres circling around each other.

And then it hit me. I'm sure I have stared through people who have talked to me and have asked for my attention because I was too caught up in the other things I had to do. Or perhaps, I was thinking about the other people I wanted to talk to instead of that particular person. I am no different than this guy. I am just as guilty.

I feel a little embarrassed and humbled by my epiphany. I'm grateful for the lesson and actually feel much better. But that's irrelevant considering the task now at hand--to be more mindful of others, to be kinder. I don't really think I'm either of these things. But then, I guess that's the point.

To Go Vegan? Compelling Evidence

2010-02-02T13:26:00.001-08:00

Today at work I saw one of my co-workers and YOWSA! She was looking hot.

"Thanks," she said. "I went vegan and started working out."

Huh.

So what exactly does that mean? No meat and dairy. Ugh.

I'm kind of against the idea of being vegetarian or vegan because A) I'm heartless against the poor animals and don't really care, and B) I'm a big believer in eating protein with every meal. Because what do you eat if you're not eating protein? Carbs? Leafy green vegetables that are just crying out to accompany something juicy . . . like a steak?

And yes, I know, protein doesn't come solely in the form of meat. But still, I think it's important to eat meat. Balance, you know.

Also, if you argue that meat and dairy products hurt the poor animals, I respectfully disagree. I think it's inhumane to let the poor animals just wait around to be milked. Although I can't speak firsthand on this subject, I hear it can be a little painful. Just saying.

But I was truly interested in this vegan diet because again, she was looking so. freaking. good. And I'm not too proud to admit I was a tiny bit envious until she said, "And whenever I think about eating a pastry and then think about the pain animals have had to go through to make that pastry, well, it motivates me 100% not to eat it."

Yeah, that doesn't really motivate me. Guess I won't be making the switch any time soon.

Media Training

2010-01-29T14:09:00.000-08:00

Today at work I received media training in the advent that I will ever need to be interviewed by a news media source. The possibility of this happening is extremely unlikely--I am simply a consultant for the government, and unfortunately, I cannot speak for them. But, it was a useful training course.

Below is my "mock interview." I hate these with a fiery passion . . . dates back to my time at Enterprise when I had to do these ridiculous mock interviews in order to qualify for management.

I received glowing comments for my mock interview, although I was told I "could have been a little more warm and inviting."

Here is what I thought:

My hair looks like Edward Scissorhands cut it.

Why do I keep blinking my eyes like that? Like every two seconds. I look like I'm in pain.

I have a big forehead AND a bloated face.

Do I really sound that way? I swear, it doesn't sound that way in my ears.

Funny how something so simple can make you break out in a cold sweat. However, I'm now an expert on speaking to the media. Let me know if you need a consultant.

Happy Moments Like This

2010-01-27T12:51:00.001-08:00

Today I got a letter from one of the contractors on a road project I worked on this summer. This particular road project was a favorite of mine--there was always something interesting to do and as the only girl on the project team . . . well, I was beloved. It made for a great, exciting, and fun project and I was sorry to see it go when it ended.

The letter was from the president of the company informing me that our project had been awarded the "Best Portland Cement Concrete Pavement Rehabilitation Highway Project Completed in the State of Utah in 2009." Yeah, what a mouthful.

But now I can say that I've worked on an award-winning project! And the president personally thanked me for my efforts! This is just so exciting. I can't wait to put it on my resume.

My Shenanigans On Paper

2010-01-26T14:09:00.000-08:00

While talking to a co-worker and telling her about the crazy things that happen to me and my house, she burst out laughing. It's always a nice thing to hear somebody laugh (in a good way) at your stories. "Melissa, you really should write a book about your life. Especially about living with four other girls."

She makes a good point. I have enough material to turn this idea into a series.

Clearly, I would be the hero--because it's my book. I would be the voice of reason who is troubled by the things that happen around me. I am often caught between doing the right thing and it's evil step-sister Temptation.

Kaylin, the up-in-your-face girl who's always right even though you wish she wasn't. She uses her powers of intuition on others only because she can't help herself.

Mindy, classically beautiful and quiet . . . and hiding a dark secret.

Carrie, outgoing and popular, struggles with an eating disorder.

Ashlee, the new girl with a secret past. We don't find out about it until one of us catches her stealing and hiding her pilfered goods in her closet.

Allyson, newly married and caught in the transition from independent career woman to lonely housewife. Every night we find her waiting for her husband in the candlelit dining room with the elaborate meal she has made all in the hopes of pleasing him.

This is sounding good, right? Actually, it's sounding more like a Harlequin romance novel. Except without the sex.

Men...And Their Toys

2010-01-19T09:05:00.000-08:00

What is it about guys having to have the latest and greatest toys? If it's not new and with the most advanced technology available then it's not worth having. This is something I sincerely do not understand.

Whenever I invite my cousin Ryan over to hang out, maybe watch a movie, he always says, "Eh. I don't really feel like watching it on the small TV." There is such judgment in his voice. You would think that our TV is the size of a portable DVD player. It isn't. It's just a regular-sized TV. I can still see the people on it.

When Allyson moved out she took her TV with her. This TV was down in the basement. We didn't use it a lot but it was always nice to be able to go downstairs and watch something if there were people upstairs.

For a couple of months the basement remained empty and slightly uninviting. Funny how the absence of a TV does that. So Kaylin bought a new one.

This TV is pretty cool. At least I think so. It's a flat screen, HD, all sleek and sassy on its stand. And Kaylin bought it for about $150 less than the original asking price. This sounds like a good thing, right!?

Kaylin, in her excitement, told people about the new TV. The girls generally responded with benign comments like, "Oh, that's cool." Or "Wow, what a great deal. It looks really nice."

The boys, however, responded with comments like, "It's only a 33 inch. That's kind of small."

"Because it's so small, you can't hook up a blu-ray player. Do you really want to do that?"

"Seriously, that sounds kind of small. Are you sure you don't want to upgrade it to a bigger size?"

"How do you expect me to watch Lord of the Rings or Star Wars on a TV of that size? Petite is the word coming to my mind right now."

Understandably, Kaylin was a little vexed. Seriously, what is it about guys having to have TVs that are the size of small movie theater screens?

This weekend, we went about redecorating our basement. We had a new TV and thought we needed to add some flair to the walls, maybe throw down a rug. It is so nice and cute. We've completely forgotten about our upstairs and now spend all of our time downstairs.

Once again, in her excitement, Kaylin wanted to share and said to our friend Alan, "Go downstairs and check out or basement! We fixed it up! We got a new TV and it's so nice."

Alan walked downstairs and then came right back up. "Yeah, I thought when you said you got a new TV that you meant you got..." (picture arms outstretched like he was measuring the size of a fish he caught) "...a TV, like a bigger TV."

And then Kaylin exploded. Poor Alan. Rest in peace, my friend.

Tell Me!

2010-01-18T08:53:00.000-08:00

My old roommate Allyson was the banker in our house because in real life she's a banker. This made life easy since she paid the bills and then I just had to write her a check. But then she went and got herself married (ridiculous) and I was delegated as the new banker of the house, which is a job I actually enjoy. I think it's because everybody pays me money.

On Saturday I opened up our gas bill to see the lovely figure of $300 zinging in front of my eyes. Really? $300 for gas? For one month? I have no idea how it got so high. Does this have anything to do with my fireplace or how often we shower and wash our clothes? Or cranking up the heat? Explain to me how this works.

On the plus side, I don't have to pay the entire $300.

Feel Free to Psychoanalyze Me

2010-01-12T09:10:00.001-08:00

I am almost finished with Gone with the Wind and I couldn't be happier. To be honest, this book is amazing. It's fantastic. I could gush about it all day. But I'll tell you one thing, I'm at the last thirty pages of the book and have no wish to finish it. I just don't think I can read anymore about Scarlett and Rhett's crumbling marriage. This is weird to me because hello! I've seen the movie, I know how it ends. But somehow, reading about two people who are actually good for each other slowly strip the other of pride and love is more than I can handle. I have laid awake at night feeling sick because my heart just hurts. You might say that maybe I get too invested in my books but I would argue that this is actually the sign of a superior writer.

I find this funny. I read a lot of books and I can handle just about anything--I'm no stranger to adult content. And yet, you ask me to read a book (or watch a movie) about two people on the cusp of divorce and I am reduced to a blubbering, emotional fool. I'm not entirely sure if this is just cute or obnoxious.

And yes, I'll finish it. I mean, I've read 800,000 pages so far, why not the last thirty?

What? Were You Talking About Me?

2010-01-11T09:17:00.000-08:00

Picture this: It's Sunday morning--the only day of the week that my entire house decides to sleep in. We wake up and groggily stumble to the kitchen where soon everyone has assembled, breakfast in hand (or bowl).

Mindy starts to tell me about a toenail she's losing because she decided to be a rock star and run 13 miles (I don't hate her at all for being able to do that). I, in turn, tell her about the time I lost a fingernail back in college.

"It hurt like a beyotch. I couldn't believe the pain," I say.

"What?" Kaylin pipes up. "What did you guys say about me?"

"What?" I say back, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought I heard you say my name."

"Is that because I said 'beyotch?'"

He he.

Soapbox

2010-01-08T08:47:00.000-08:00

I just have to get something off of my chest. It's been on my mind for a while.

Nobody knows how to use apostrophes correctly and it drives.me.crazy. Of all the things to bug me, this would be one of the chief ones (not one's, ha. Although writing the word ones seems tacky and in poor form. Just saying.). Apostrophes show possession not plurals but it seems to be that anytime we have a plural we tack on an apostrophe to show it.

I know, I know--this has to be one of the most arrogant and presumptuous blog posts ever. Only weirdos like myself really care about proper grammar. Whatev. I try not to correct people on their grammar, mostly because that's rude.

But we're talking about the written word, folks, and this goes back to one of the first lessons we learn about grammar. I'm really wondering if the English teachers throughout the public school system even know how to use them correctly because this incorrect usage has become too prevalent. Everyone is confused how to use them right. I see it everywhere.

For example, this is not correct:

When referring to a decade: I was born in the 60's (should be 60s).

When referring to a plural last name: Please let me introduce you to the Smith's (should be Smiths).

My last name is a little tricky because it ends in an "s." The correct way to refer to Phillips in the plural form is Phillipses, not Phillips'. Unless you're referring to something that's ours.

I just see this everywhere--on billboards and advertisements mostly and it bugs. I could go on about this for a while and in more detail, but I just wanted to say that you don't have to put an apostrophe after every word you add an "s" to.

Okay. I will get off my soapbox now. Thank you.

Ladies, Buy Your Hubbies One of These

2010-01-07T19:42:00.001-08:00

Behold.

The electric shovel.

Actually, they're called power shovels.

Now I finally understand why guys are so into power tools. It's like pushing a vacuum . . . only, it spits out snow with the power of a snow blower.

Talk about a Christmas present I underestimated.

Check out that snow. It's shooting out! And Kaylin hasn't decided how she feels about it.

Before.

After. I know, it's a little dark but take my word for it: it cleaned up my driveway like a pro.

Good Bye, Old Friend

2010-01-07T19:37:00.001-08:00

Our buddy Bryce checked out of Salt Lake in search of brighter skies in Minneapolis. No, I'm not bitter. He's just an average guy anyway. Who needs those?

Kidding!

Our house knows a lot of fun people, but Bryce, by far, was the coolest. We're already experiencing withdrawals.

Check It!

2010-01-07T19:32:00.000-08:00

My new snowshoes. Now I need to find all of those crunchy, granola people I swear I know to take me snowshoeing.

Hi, My Name Is Melissa and I'm A Hypochondriac

2010-01-05T15:17:00.001-08:00

This is no joke. I am a total hypochondriac.

I always think the worst anytime I feel an ache, pain, or anything that might be a titch uncomfortable. I blame this on an ex-boyfriend. During our courtship I watched as his mother suffered from an acute case of skin cancer, his father had back surgery twice, his sister suffered from Multiple Sclerosis, and his other sister had discovered a lump on her breast. Nobody was safe in that family.

I woke up this morning at 2 am feeling some intense pain in my right lower abdomen. Ow. It hurt like a mother. My immediate thought: appendicitis.

Great. My favorite gym class of the week is on Tuesdays and I was going to miss it.

I was fully prepared to drag myself up to Kaylin's bedroom and beg her to take me to the hospital. Instead, I took some ibuprofen and worried. If the ibuprofen mitigated the pain enough for it to subside, would I even know if my appendix was about to burst? I began to picture the worst.

Somehow, I made it through the night. No burst appendix. I was saved.

But it still hurt. Not as bad, just a dull pain.

So I tried to figure it out. What was the cause of the ultimate of ultimate stomach cramps? Yeah, it's probably endometriosis.

To which Kaylin replied, "Oh, my hell, Melissa. It was probably just gas."

I'm Obsessed . . .

2010-01-04T14:58:00.000-08:00

. . . with these headwraps. They are ridiculously cute. I convinced myself that somehow I could make them because, hey, I can knit and I fully intended to learn how to crochet if that's what it needed. Turns out I can't find a pattern anywhere. Too bad! Although the one I have only cost $15 . . . probably worth it when you consider securing my sanity.

Today's Working Out to Be A Good Day

2009-12-30T10:33:00.001-08:00

A few good things have come my way today:

1. I got a wall in my cubicle at work right in front of my computer. Although it suddenly seems like I'm sitting in a shadow, I'm hidden from the semi-annoying girl who sits next to me who talks non-stop.

2. My cousin Sarah was discharged from the hospital yesterday after showing a lot of improvement. Thanks to those who sent good thoughts her way.

3. My new snowshoes are arriving today!

4. I'm wearing skinnier jeans and feel surpisingly skinnier in them.

5. It's supposed to snow 14" today which means that I am going to use my new electric snow shovel and automatically look like a rock star while using it.

6. I stumbled upon my chocolate reserve that I've been holding on to for when I really need it. There's something very self-empowering about having chocolate at your desk and knowing you don't have to eat it right this second. In fact, it's been at my desk for weeks!

2009 Year In Review

2009-12-30T10:26:00.000-08:00

I could have been proactive and sent out Christmas cards. This is the first year that a) the thought occurred to me, although it was after I noticed everybody had already sent them out; and b) I thought it sounded fun.

So here's my 2009 Year In Review:

January: Bought a new car (an '07 Honda Accord, gray-blue) after spectacularly rolling my car in a snowbank in that hell hole called Ontario, Oregon. I also soon learned that everyone else in Utah bought a gray-blue '07 Honda Accord as well.

February: Experienced a relatively quiet and uneventful month. I was on the FHE committee where we hosted Snuggle Fest 2009 which was basically nachos and a movie in the cultural hall where couches, love sacs, sleeping bags, and camping chairs were brought in. We got some serious stares from people when we announced it at church. I thought the idea (and title) were clever and catchy. If I hadn't been on the committee, I would have surely come out of deep admiration for the deep thinkers who thought that idea up.

March: Another uneventful month. I traveled to St. George for a work conference and started to discover how much I love my job.

April: Bought a ticket to England! Also experienced indoor sky diving and went to the Hare Krishna temple in Spanish Fork for the Festival of Colors. I am curious if I sustained any lung damage after inhaling so much colored corn starch.

May: Went white-water river rafting where I was told the waves were going to be epic. Turns out that rafting on a super big, inflatable raft is pretty much like all of the other times I've done it: slow and easy and not exciting at all.

June: A busy, tiring, and exciting month. I spent more time in my car driving from state to state rather than standing on solid ground. I traveled up to Washington for my youngest sister's high school graduation where we got caught in a rain storm just as the graduation was about to begin and ultimately turned my semi-straight hair into a ball of frizz.

That same day we received word that my grandpa had passed away which, although was expected, was terrible to experience over the phone and not to have been able to be there to formally and lovingly say good bye. Two days after arriving back in Utah from Washington, Kaylin and I packed the car and headed up to Oregon, which incidentally is one of the worst drives one can do. The speed limit is 55 mph and if you step a toe out of line the cops will somehow know it, find you, and exact unmerciful treatment on you like you're some kind of terrorist. It was fun, however, to spend time as a family and reflect about the amazing life my grandpa led. He truly was a man among men and I could only be so lucky to find someone like him.

One day after arriving back in Utah from Oregon I embarked on the mother of all trips: England! An overwhelming experience in which I was able to experience a country I have always dreamed of traveling to. I still dream about it. I think the best part about my trip was meeting fellow members of the Church and gaining a new perspective on what it's like to be LDS outside of the US. It was wonderful and humbling. I also discovered that all of the clothes I bought in England are way softer than the clothes over here. Seriously, I should have bought more. Soft like butta.

July: Went on a camping trip with my cousins where Kaylin and I made a traditional sausage, egg, and pancake breakfast for the family. Also finished Bleak House by Charles Dickens which has earned residence in my Top Ten books at Number Three. I was also called to be the co-chair of the Ward Activities Committee--a calling which I love because it reminds me of all those times in college when I planned campus activities and thought I ruled the school. I also tried to recuperate from my whirlwind June.

August: Turned 29 and spent it with some of my best girlfriends. It was quiet and understated and as all birthdays go, it was fabulous. Also learned how to make a diaper cake with Kaylin which we gave to our cousin as she adopted her first little baby--an adorable monkey named Gracie. Work also turned up the heat and I was left working serious amounts of overtime as I juggled four construction projects. Somehow August always turns out to be the busiest month of the year for me.

September: Bought a heart rate monitor and took a trip to San Diego for work where I discovered at a work conference that people who are allegedly experts in communications can't communicate worth a crap. Read The Kite Runner and The Time Traveler's Wife and was slightly underwhelmed, I think because I waited so long to read them.

October: Said farewell to my dear roommate Allyson who decided singledom was for the birds. Also threw the pinnacle of all Halloween parties which was subsequently shut down by the cops.

November: Thought a lot about paying to have my car vacuumed and detailed since it had gotten too cold for me to even entertain the thought of going outdoors. Started reading Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell--a book I haven't yet finished but is also looking to rank in my Top Ten list.

December: Traveled home for the holidays and luckily did not total my car. I also learned that I'm terrible at video games even though I made a valiant effort on my parents' Nintendo Wii.

There you have it, folks! Much love out there to all of my friends and family. You truly do make my life better and more fulfilling.

A View From the Top

2009-12-29T08:26:00.000-08:00

After driving through some dense fog in the Blue Mountains--the mountain pass just south of the Washington/Oregon border--we made it to the top to see a thick layer of fog below us. Absolutely beautiful.

She's Rejecting This Sweater

2009-12-29T08:19:00.000-08:00

Mindy and I have a running joke about when we don't like something we're wearing or we don't feel comfortable in it that our body is rejecting that particular clothing item. For example, for Allyson's wedding we all wore purple except for Mindy since it was Allyson's wedding colors. She had purple in her closet but, as she solemnly told me, "My body was rejecting all of the purple in the closet, so I had to wear black instead."

This is a picture of our dog Licorice in her Christmas sweater. Doesn't that sweater look like something someone would wear to an ugly sweater party? Anyway, we think she looks pretty cute in it but as soon as you put her in it, our rambunctious, irrepressible dog is suddenly rendered immobile. She stands absolutely still and looks at everyone like something is off, almost as if we have betrayed her because she hates that sweater. It's heartbreaking and hilarious all at once.

I know this picture doesn't quite capture the essence, but Licorice is definitely rejecting her Christmas sweater.

This Is How We Crush Peppermint Candies In Our House

2009-12-29T08:17:00.000-08:00

Who Couldn't Love This Little Face?

2009-12-28T13:35:00.000-08:00

I took out my cousin Tracy's son to see the zoo lights and hit up a little Red Robin.

The highlight of the evening was when Kaylin and Carrie convinced him to say to me, "Melissa, you're weird!"

"No, I'm not!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, you are!"

A verbal match ensued.

I lost.

Boycotting

2009-12-24T12:52:00.000-08:00

Kaylin, Alicia, and I made the great trip to Washington for the holidays. Since then, I've done a fat lot of nothing. Emphasize on fat. There's been a lot of lounging, eating, Christmas movies at the parentals house. I'm sure I'm ten pounds heavier.

Funny enough, I discovered that I am perfectly content to go days without checking my email, bank account, facebook account, and even blog. Consider it boycotting the outside world while I am holed up inside my parents' house. Heavenly.

So maybe I'll go shower now. Whatev. I've got time.

You Want To Know Why They Call It Blind Dating?

2009-12-18T12:32:00.000-08:00

Wednesday night was my ward's annual Christmas party. I live in an affluent area of SLC so our Christmas parties tend to be a little bit, er, different than the usual ward party fare. We held it at the Marriott, had a nice catered meal (secretly, I think it's because the ward is afraid that if we asked people to go pot-luck style, people would sign up and then not actually follow through), and also held an auction. The proceeds of the auction were donated to a little girl who's in need of a liver transplant. It was nice to give back to a family in need.

We tried to make the party well rounded. There was karaoke and even a live comic. OMG . . . why do we think that live comics are a good idea? They never are. I feel partially responsible. I think it may have been me who suggested that idea.

A girl on the committee said she knew a guy who knew a guy (I know . . . I should have known) and she had seen his act. She referred to him as awkward. I was thinking Michael Scott awkward and I was all for it.

Um, no. If Michael Scott were a real person and somehow showed up at our Christmas party ready to do stand up, it would have been a welcome (and blessed) surprise. Instead we got a guy who sounded . . . dare I say it? . . . special ed. Seriously. I kept thinking he had hit his head or something.

His quote of the night:

Do you want to know why we call it blind dating? Because you get so nervous and then your nipples get hard and it's like reading braille.

Oh, have mercy. He did not just say that.

Silence.

Awkward silence.

I was mortified.

So just in case you've ever wondered why it's called blind dating, there you have it.

On the plus side, we raised about $6000 for Lulu!

Today Is A Hard Day

2009-12-18T09:17:00.000-08:00

Today is a hard day. One of my dear cousins is in the hospital suffering from double pnemonia. She's currently on a ventilator in order to give her some much needed rest. I didn't realize until my cousin Tracy told me, but essentially when they put you on a ventilator they have to put you in a medically induced coma. Maybe this just sounds worse than it really is--basically, she's just sleeping--but it's terrifying to have someone you love hover in such a dangerous place.

Sarah's sickness started about two weeks ago when she got the H1N1 virus. This is so crazy to me. When I was in England everyone kept asking us about the swine flu and every time they did I would look at them like they were crazy. I think we even laughed about it like they were just overreacting about a flu, which yes, made people very sick, but still, it was just a flu.

I feel foolish now for this careless attitude.

Today we're fasting for Sarah and praying our hearts out for her recovery. She's a beloved member of our family and we love her so much.

If you can, please remember Sarah and her little family in your prayers.

Where Has My Mind Been All Day?

2009-12-16T12:52:00.000-08:00

Eek! I'm a complete idiot. All day today I've been feeling sluggish and not on the ball. Also, I've felt like I've had something to do but couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Not until 1:30 did I realize that I had missed my weekly 1:00 meeting. Read it: weekly. As in, I go to this meeting every week. I can't believe I just did that. Especially because the construction on this specific project is ending for the season and this was going to be my last meeting for a while. It's not a big deal, I just can't believe I completely spaced it.

Ugh.

A Rebuttal

2009-12-15T13:33:00.000-08:00

Not from my mom about John Bytheway. . . but from my dad. He read the blog post while I was talking to my parents on the phone. My mom giggled as he read it--she loves this story almost as much as I do. My dad would like to point out:

1. My mom was driving, not him.
2. She had moved the car to a mysterious part of the road so he didn't know where we were when he was racing down the front walk. This makes me think he took his eyes off the front walk looking for our car, thus his untimely demise against the big, looming mailbox.
3. He refused to ever deliver anything again after that momentous occasion. This kills me, my dad rarely says no to doing something.
4. He doesn't really appreciate that it still makes us laugh.

Ah, family . . .

A Little Gem for Ya

2009-12-14T14:19:00.001-08:00

Yesterday as I opened my mouth to sing the closing hymn in Relief Society, I let out a burp instead. Here's what's funny about this (other than the fact that I audibly burped in RS): I never burp! I don't know why at that particular moment it just came out and I couldn't stop it. Luckily, it wasn't loud enough for the entire room to hear, only loud enough for the row I was sitting in. But seriously, who does this sort of thing?

Oops! I May Have Walked In On the Gingerbread Man While He Was Changing

2009-12-13T18:10:00.000-08:00

As If To Further Illustrate My Point...

2009-12-12T13:48:00.000-08:00

That I'm nesting. Today I created a sewing nook. Enough said.

You're Wearing What?

2009-12-10T08:53:00.000-08:00

Tonight is my work Christmas party. Sigh. I'm still remembering last year's blessed event.

I was just going to go alone but the people at work are making me bring a friend; thus, Carrie is now my esteemed date for the evening. I bribed her with the prospect of prime rib, sweet potatoes, and salmon.

I was feeling moderately fine about the whole thing until a co-worker came up to me and immediately asked what I was wearing. I hadn't really given it much thought. Since we're living in sub-zero temperatures I figured I would wear anything that would go with tights.

She said the same thing about wanting tights, except she brought up that she has this fancy dress she never gets to wear. It has spaghetti straps and is floor length.

"Oooo, wear it." I said. "Me, I'll just dig up something that I would wear to church."

She gave me a slightly pitying look.

Gratituitous Beefcakes Aplenty

2009-12-09T08:51:00.000-08:00

Thank you to the powers of DVR, TV Christmas movies are like a drug. We record all of them. There's something so perfect about ending the day with the fire crackling, the Christmas lights on the garland and tree being the only light in the house, a cinnamon scentsy, and talking about making hot chocolate for everyone. But really, we're all too lazy to make hot chocolate because we're watching TV and that would require us to get off of the couch.

If you haven't caught (and don't worry, it'll be on TV again) the Twelve Men of Christmas on Lifetime, you should check it out.

Here's why it's entertaining:
1. It has Kristen Chenowith of Wicked fame.
2. She plays a New York PR bull dog stuck in Montana . . . movie and TV execs never get tired of this speel even though it's so ridiculous. But Kristen actually pulls off the most saccharine lines as if they were the most natural thing to say.
3. It's a blatant rip off of Pride and Prejudice, meaning you'll know the lines even before the actors say them.
4. There's gratuitous scenes with shirtless beefcakes.*

*You know when women are hired to be on TV or in movies strictly for their hot factor and it's total exploitation of a hot body? Yeah, it's like that. Not complaining, merely pointing it out. Yes, I understand the double standard.

Snow Storm for the Ages

2009-12-08T09:02:00.000-08:00

It finally snowed out here. And when I say snowed . . . I mean Mother Nature dumped snow across the entire Greater Salt Lake Valley. The radio was full of reports of accidents and backed-up traffic. I'm so grateful I don't have to take the freeway to get to work.

Kaylin texted me this morning that it took her twenty-five minutes to get to work instead of her usual ten or fifteen minutes. This is funny because all of our other roommates drive at least twenty minutes to work each day when the driving conditions are good. Kaylin and I drive about ten.

I couldn't help picturing the snow piling up and me holed up in my house. Alone on the couch with the fireplace crackling and my favorite shows on TV while I worked from home. Sounds nice, doesn't it? But really, my work is right down the street. I mean, what a crap excuse so as not to go to work. Still . . . .

Something Must Be In the Water

2009-12-07T09:10:00.000-08:00

I dont' know what's come over me but I have entered a new phase: the nesting phase. Before you jump to conclusions, no, I am not pregnant. But seriously, I'm wondering if there is something in the water because this is new territory.

I looked up the term nesting:

Around the fifth month of pregnancy, the "nesting" instinct can set in. This is an uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world.

This weekend I attacked my shower with a fully powered bottle of Soft Scrub and was going full steam until the bleach crept into my lungs and gave me a coughing / gagging fit. I made dinner (eggrolls, you better believe it) and afterwards decided I wanted homemade gingerbread as well. Afterwards, I decided that much of my laundry needed ironing--something I never do, those wrinkles will work themselves out on their own, peeps--and pulled the ironing board into my room so as to be closer to my freshly laundered clothes. I swept the house, took out the trash and recycling.

Whew! If only all of my weekends were this productive. Perhaps this isn't really nesting, but at the risk of sounding lazy and incompetent, I'm rarely this motivated to get so much stuff done in a single weekend.

While this newfound, unexpected, and irrational behavior continues, I'd be happy to come to your houses and launch an attack on your bathroom, kitchen, laundry room, etc.

For a small fee, of course. A girl's gotta eat, you know.

Smack

2009-12-05T15:13:00.000-08:00

No, this present isn't sticking out of my neck; instead, this is the mid-air flight of the present as it's being hurled in the air right before it smacked me in the face.

The closed eyes are just an added bonus.

My Own Personal Weather Man

2009-12-04T13:32:00.000-08:00

My knee has been hurting this week. Most people know I've had two knee surgeries and it seems to me that it always hurts in one way or another. Boo.

But this week in particular my knee has felt especially tender. So much that Kaylin and my roommate Carrie gave me a serious guilt trip for wanting to go to the gym Wednesday night.

"You can barely walk!" Kaylin cried. "At least take a day off from it."

I did, but I felt guilty.

"Why do you think your knee hurts so much right now?" Carrie asked.

I shrugged. "The last time it hurt like this was last month when we had our first big snow storm. It must be the change in weather."

Carrie nodded her head and looked slightly solemn, but there was a slight tinge in her face as the wheels turned in her head.

I sighed. "This totally makes me sound like an eighty-year-old woman, doesn't it?"

She burst out laughing. "It does. It really does."

Kersplat!

2009-12-03T15:25:00.000-08:00

My mom has always liked to do the Twelve Days of Christmas during the holidays.

There have been countless holidays where we have found a family in need and delivered gifts and goodies to them as the holiday approached. There are a lot of special memories associated with this--sneaking up to the house, assembling gifts, that one bitter time when we delivered soda (a most coveted thing growing up) knowing that it was for somebody else.

Once I wrote the most ridiculous poem talking about how we were their Christmas elves here to wish them Happy Holidays. I even wrote each alternating paragraph in red or green ink . . . talk about the epitome of festive. My mom was proud of that poem, weirdly enough, and had a lady from our ward who had stopped by our house one night read it. She wasn't as impressed and even pointed out a mispelled word. Scrooge.

The best memory I have of the Twelve Days of Christmas happened when I was super young, maybe five or six. My mom had baked bread and we were delivering this bread to a family with eight kids (sounds like one loaf wasn't enough, don't you think?) on a cold December evening in the great place of Eagle River, Alaska.

Like I said, it was cold. So guess who was persuaded to deliver the bread? My dad.

He snuck up to the house, left the bread on the doorstep, and knocked loudly on the door. The next thing I see is him racing off the front porch, down the front walk, and through the gate towards our car. Everything was fine until WHAM! My dad had run into the mailbox and landed right on his back.

I'm not sure if he slipped on ice or literally ran into the mailbox in the heat of the moment . . . I was five, you see.

Here's what I can tell you with a surety--my dad was immediately on his hands and knees patting the ground trying to find his glasses in the snow. Time progressed--it felt like eons--as my dad patted (there really is no better word) the ground looking for those damn glasses. What kills me is he doesn't even have that bad of vision. Those glasses must have blended into the night.

The family, by this time, had opened the door and come out to the porch. Rather than noticing the loaf of bread wrapped in tin foil, they were granted with a different surprise--some random man on his hands and knees in the snow becoming increasingly irritated as he patted the snow. Curse words, I'm sure, were uttered.

As this was happening, a crazy woman was sitting in the front seat of our car laughing like crazy. Oh, wait, that was my mom. This may be the hardest she's ever laughed.

At the tender age of five, I was kind of alarmed by my mom laughing because I thought my dad was hurt; however, now, the image of my dad on the ground is automatically accompanied by the sound of my mom laughing. And I can't help but smile.

Christmas Is Here

2009-12-02T14:04:00.000-08:00

Christmas is here! I am so excited. For you purists out there, Kaylin and I put up our Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving. To be honest, I was a little disappointed that it didn't go up sooner.

Once again, we visited Temple Square to see the lights. For the environmentalists out there, I am sorry if this opinion offends your sensibilities, but I hate that the Church is cutting back on the lights! In my opinion, when it comes to Christmas you either go big or go home. I believe in conservation . . . except when it's Christmas. So this is what I'm saying, I think there should be more lights at Temple Square. I really do.

We've been watching a lot of Christmas movies at our house. Even though the Hallmark and Lifetime Christmas movies always fall flat at the end, I am loving them. Except for Holiday in Handcuffs. I couldn't suspend reality long enough to believe that a) Mario Lopez would fall in love with the girl who kidnapped him over the holidays; b) that girl ended up being Melissa Joan Hart.

A Memory Where My Mother Told Me I Was Not Good Enough for John Bytheway

2009-11-23T14:08:00.000-08:00

Long before the days of tank tops being a mandatory undershirt-wardrobe item, I had bought a shirt that had a somewhat deep V-neck in the front. I was living at home at the time (this being the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college) and it was during that transition when I was starting to buy my own clothes. It felt so weird . . . so adult. I felt a little awkward spending money on myself (wish I felt that way still).

It was Saturday night and darn it if I wasn't going to go out wearing my new purple, V-neck shirt.

Except it was a little lower cut than I realized. I spent the whole night pulling my shirt up trying to cover up the girls. If my face didn't show it, I was feeling more than a little self-conscious.

The next morning (being a Sunday), instead of our usual fare of Disney TV in the family room (for my younger siblings . . . duh), my mom was playing a John Bytheway talk. I sat down, ate my breakfast, and watched it. I mean, I was a more enlightened person at this point in time. I had sat through all of the sessions of General Conference while at college and did not immediately curl up in my blanket and fall asleep. If this isn't definitive proof of my enlightenment, I don't know what is.

And then my mom turned to me with the clear intention of teaching me a lesson.

My eyes widened in surprise and then horror as I realized the lesson being taught.

"That outfit you wore last night was inappropriate. I can't even believe it. How can you be worthy of someone like John Bytheway when you wear shirts like that?"

Um . . . I don't know. I didn't really intend for it to be that revealing.

"Melissa, if you're going to be worthy of someone like John Bytheway, you cannot be wearing clothes like that."

Um . . . John Bytheway? Really?

I find this all extremely ironic since I wonder from time to time if I had pulled out the purple V-neck shirt a little more often if I would have been a little more successful at the dating game. Sadly, it's been donated to the DI where I'm sure another girl is flaunting her goodies much to the dismay of her mother.

**Clearly, this is a funny story, Mom. Perhaps you remember it differently. If so, you should start your own blog with a rebuttal statement.

The Day In Which I Earned the Title of Rico Suave

2009-11-23T09:13:00.000-08:00

My cousin Tracy and her family moved on Saturday. Being the kind, benevolent, good-hearted people that we are (read: nothing else was going on), Kaylin and I volunteered our services. Even better, Tracy served doughnuts. It takes so little to make me happy.

I planned on making myself useful. Instead, I found the box of doughnuts on the counter. I grabbed one just as Tracy's husband Matt came up from the basement carrying one end of their very large couch. I couldn't see his face as it was hidden from the arm of the couch but I could see his arm. It was flexed and impressively showing off some well defined biceps. "Nice biceps, Matt," I called out.

Opposite me stood a friend of Matt and Tracy's, I think his name is Kyle. He just stood there and gave me this strange look and then mumbled something that I couldn't quite hear. It was weird. Didn't he know I was just joking? Matt's my cousin, okay? You can say those things in jest.

And then finally Matt's face came into view. Only it wasn't Matt, it was someone I didn't know. Another friend . . . named Wade. Who happens to be married and have children. My eyes widened in horror and I hissed to Tracy, "Oh, my gosh, I just hit on your friend!"

I had to apologize, blushing face and all.

Turns out though, he took it as a compliment. I guess these moments are hard to come by when you're married. Regardless, I had a hard time looking at him in the face the rest of the day.

Found On Twitter

2009-11-20T13:26:00.001-08:00

The worst thing you can be is a liar . . . okay, fine, yes, the worst thing you can be is a Nazi, but THEN, number two is a liar. Nazi 1, Liar 2.

My Kind of Home Teaching

2009-11-19T15:25:00.000-08:00

Last night our home teacher came over (notice that I said home teacher and not home teachers).

We fed him dinner. Then we let him practice his med school studies on us. He was checking for occlusions in the nerves in our head. He did things like ask us to clench our teeth together, check our eyes, ask us to open our mouths and say Ahhh. I have no idea what exactly he was looking for. Funny thing is, he didn't really either. He said they would teach him that later.

And once he was done, he packed up his gear and grabbed the plate of food that we made him. Just before leaving he asked if there was anything he could do for us. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that we all said no.

To be honest, this question wasn't insincere. He may not have come with a lesson, but I appreciated that he came over. I think we underestimate the purpose of home teaching and visiting teaching--yes, gospel discussions are important but I think it's much more important to build a relationship of trust however that may be.

Funny though that our idea of trusting someone is to let us feed them and then send them on their way.

A Little Gift

2009-11-18T15:33:00.000-08:00

We got a surprise last night from our landlords . . . a Christmas tree! Like I said, I have the best landlords. They feel like family which has to be one of the nicest things.

I came home yesterday to see Troy standing in our dining room with a Christmas tree in the corner. His wife Keri and oldest son (Little Troy) had chopped down Christmas trees and had an extra. Troy brought it over.

This may make you ask, where was Troy? Out golfing. Keri officially wins the bad-A award of the year.

I haven't had a real Christmas tree in forever. We never had them in Alaska because Christmas trees aren't exactly indiginous there. So if you wanted a real Christmas tree you had to have one of the trees that were shipped up north from somewhere in the Lower 48--obviously, I'm hazy on the details. So far, this doesn't sound so bad. But do you know what kind of critters will take up residence in a Christmas tree that is being shipped up north? Spiders, snakes . . . bleh. My mom didnt' even mess with that.

When we moved to Washington and had just finished building our house, my mom was thrilled with the idea of a real Christmas tree. She tantalized us with the anticipation of the fresh pine scent that permeated the house. Sadly, we got a tree with no fresh pine scent and the needles fell off about two weeks after we bought it. But it was okay. We had a "spare" in the living room, although we never got a real tree again.

So the new addition to our household has instantly filled me with Christmas spirit. It was already bubbling somewhere under the surface but seeing the tree in our house inspired me to make an executive decision: I'm putting up my Christmas decorations this weekend.

Of course, I still support Thanksgiving. But with a Christmas tree.

DVR Is Dangerous

2009-11-17T13:23:00.000-08:00

I may have deleted last week's So You Think You Can Dance from the DVR. And I may be in the dog house.

I am now on strict orders to not delete anything from the DVR without checking first with the entire house.

Well, then. I guess that's settled.

Oops! I Tweeted!

2009-11-16T14:37:00.001-08:00

I started a Twitter account. I'm not sure why.

I feel like I hurl thoughts out into the universe and they just sit there . . . floating . . . doing what? Perhaps you could argue that blogging or Facebook is the exact same thing, I would certainly see your point although not entirely agree with it. But Twitter limits you in a sense. It's like you're living your life in sound bites.

Today's tweet:

Reading Gone With the Wind--filled with words I don't know. Lese: to lose. I lesed my mind, y'all.

You Know It's A Success When the Cops Shut You Down

2009-11-13T10:01:00.000-08:00

I know it's been two weeks since Halloween and that you have probably seen these pictures on Facebook. Sue me. I haven't had a chance to upload my pictures, and actually, I think Kaylin beat me to the punch and already did it. Whatev.

For Halloween, we threw a party--the party to end all parties. In truth, I am not really a fan of parties. Tons of people I don't know and I somehow find myself clustered around the four people I do know. I cannot conjure up a conversation out of thin air, mostly because I just don't care enough to do so. They ask us to network all of the time at work and I just loathe it. I can't be fake with people I don't know and pretend to be interested in them when I'm just not. I don't believe in making friends just so you can say you have friends. Anyway . . . this one turned out to be super fun.

Our house went as the characters of Clue which was surprisingly hard to pull together. There was one long night when Kaylin and I were at the mall trying to find stuff for Mrs. Peacock and I just wanted to yell and Kaylin just wanted to go home. We were literally out the door when we found my peacock shirt. Surprising.

With the sisters. Kaylin went as Professor Plum. Funny thing is, nobody realized she was dressed up. I think she should have told everyone she was a naughty librarian to get their attention. Alicia was Audrey Hepburn (brilliant!).

My pipe was a spray-painted wand. Nobody was impressed. And someone actually said to me, "Um, you know you could have gone to Home Depot and just asked them to cut you a pipe."

Oh.

Another thing that's interesting . . . nobody knew the characters of Clue. When I told people to guess who I was, they would inevitably say Professor Plum? Um, Colonel Mustard? No, you morons. Look at me, I'm dressed up in effing blue.

Here's where the party gets interesting. We invited everyone we knew, we had friends invite everyone they knew . . . turns out we had about 200 people show up in our small house. Talk about beyond crowded. It was going great until the sorority crew showed up in their skin tight leather dominatrix-styled outfits complete with kitty-cat ears and tails (because, duh! They were cats!) that I really felt the party lost its cool flavor. All available guys zeroed in on them. A little disappointing, if you ask me. It was seriously a scene out of Mean Girls. Which again illustrates my point that men are retards. And if you think I'm sounding a little more jaded than normal, you're probably right. I feel a huge wave of cynicism crashing over me.

Everything was going well until Mr. Police Man showed up with a chip on his shoulder and a gun in his holster. No, he was not here to dance. He looked pissed. Apparently one of our lovely neighbors called in regarding noise, lol. Which brings me to my next goal: taking Christmas cookies to my neighbors this year. I don't know if they like us. In our defense, it was Halloween, a Friday night, and only about midnight. And there was no bong in the den, no drunken maniacs running up and down the streets--it was merely dancing and food. Pretty tame if you ask me.

But I got a SEVERE talking to by the cop. He ripped me a new one and then proceeded to do it again. I was not offended that he showed up at our door; I was, however, mad as hell when he talked to me like I was an idiot about noise ordinances and citations and eventually took my information down. I don't appreciate intimidation tactics especially when I would have shut the door and turned down the music. What a tool.

My landlords were also pretty mad, but not at us. They were mad at the cop and wanted to call the mayor because they "know the guy" and report the cop's name and the disrespectful way he treated their tenants. How funny is that? To quote Troy my landlord, "Melissa, please don't let this be the end of your gargantuous parties." I promised him I wouldn't. And then he got a mischeivous look on his face and said he was going to report us to the cops tonight. We got razzed for about a week from them. Needless to say, I love my landlords!

Thank goodness Thanksgiving is so relaxing because I need a break!

You Were (Mostly) Right!

2009-11-02T12:44:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Peacock with the lead pipe in the kitchen.

More pictures to come . . . and of course, I've got stories.