Good thing it still runs...

I am a fan of Thanksgiving. Oh yes, I am.

Contrary to popular belief, the mashed potatoes are not my favorite thing about it. (they're my second favorite)

I love the time I get to spend with my family. I love my family with all of my little heart. They are my best friends and they are always there for me. I am thankful for each and every one of them. My extended family is also very much a part of those last few statements.

Thanksgiving this year was celebrated with my father's side of the family at our house.

Because of that, of course everything had to go wrong. A few weeks ago, the upstairs washing machine decided it didn't remember when to stop filling up with water, so it overflowed into the laundry room and flooded the room below it. Onto the drum set in said room. Delightful!

A week or so after that, I was craving one of my delicious, delicious popsicles. I opened up the freezer and pulled out the box. However, inside this box I did not find my beloved popsicles. I found little plastic bags full of strawberry juice and a stick floating around. Also a puddle in the bottom of the box. The fridge is broken too! Awesome!

Where are we going to keep all of the food for the upcoming feast? That is the million dollar question.

Then the ripped carpet on the stairs was discovered. And dad needs a new car because his was totalled in an accident. (stupid druggy motorcycle man trying to run away from the fuzz. moron.)

Despite all the madness going on, dinner was pulled off without a hitch. My mother is Super Woman.

I was in charge of the mashed potatoes and jello salad this year. My two favorite dishes. Really though, my jello salad is a bit inappropriately named. Definitely more of a desert than anything else...

12 people were at dinner this year, and we had food for 30. Part of which were two turkeys... yeah... Still working on those leftovers.

My favorite part of Thanksgiving this year was my Uncle telling me that if I'd get up to Logan, he'd take me shooting. (basically, he's the best and has a wicked gun collection.) Couldn't be more excited about that. Really, I can't wait. I've wanted to go shooting for a looooong time.

+1 foot of snow on the ground this morning. I need new snow tires. And a new bumper. 'Nuff said.

An adventure to remember

So I almost died yesterday. It was great! Super exciting, yet at the same time, I didn't freak out as much as I would have thought I would... if that makes sense. Let's just start at the beginning, shall we?

Yesterday, one of my very best friend's older brother got married. This was a very exciting thing. Not just because it was a wedding, which is an exciting event no matter who you are, or what the circumstances are, but Josh was on the path of eternal bachelor-dom and nobody thought that would ever change.

SURPRISE!! Now he's married.

Anyway, the reception was held last night up in good ol' Salt Lake City. I was running a little late because we (my family) were putting up the roof on our covered patio. Because of this tardy-ness, I ended up driving into the big winter storm that hit the valley last night. Let me tell you, driving 30mph on the freeway when you're running an hour or so behind is not great for the nerves. No, sir.

However, I get to Salt Lake all in one piece and make my way towards and arrive at (despite the wrong directions I received from my GPS) the Utah Pickle Company. Oh yes, you read that correctly. The Utah Pickle Co. I love it. I love that that name was seriously on a wedding invite. So much.

I had a great time. The bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome and everyone was happy. Fabulous! The only fly in the ointment was the serious lack of parking (finally I just parked behind one of the catering vans and was later asked to move haha). (also my bestie's bf, but we won't go into that...)

The party is great, we eat gelatto and the couple is sent on their merry way via sparklers. Aww, tender.

The time comes to leave. It is snowing again. I love it from inside the car, with the car still parked because the snowflakes are just big and fluffy and gorgeous. Then I remember I have to drive home in this.

Woot.

I begin the treacherous journey home. The roads are icy underneath all the slush, it's just great. Welcome to Utah!

I wasn't too worried about anything. I was going pretty slow and I had Michael on to keep me relaxed. All is right in the world when Michael sings.

And then the truck came.

Basically, this truck was a total jerk. I swear, it was trying to get on my nerves, and boy was it working. It kept driving off to the side just enough so the slush would spray directly from under his wheels onto my windshield (faster than my wipers could get it off, I might add). Awesome. Zero visibilty. That's always fun. I ended up drifting a little bit into the slush in the middle and to the side of my lane. Oh, and then hydroplaning.

The funny thing was, as precious as Caesar is to me, I stayed surprisingly calm. If I had guessed how I would react in that situation before it happened, I probably would have expected myself to lose it. What if something happened to my baby?? I'd be horribly depressed.

Despite the odds, I kept my wits about me and the car under control. As soon as it was over, I actually quite enjoyed the experience. It was like unto a mini rollercoaster. I was still alive and Caesar was well and whole, so I could enjoy the experience and not feel guilty about it.

And Michael continues to sing. Ahhhh, yes.


Also, I am 87% sure I lost my toe ring in my friend's couch. Sad day.

A new chapter

I started a new job today. It's the best thing ever! It's so fun, I love it!

In this economy, does it get any better? I posit that it does not!

Many good things shall come from this.

Of that I am sure.

....the cereal, the game, the real thing.... just go

So I stopped by my friend's apartment tonight after work, and had a much needed conversation with her. I am so very blessed to have such amazing people in my life that I look up to. I am very fortunate.

My family wondered where I was so I got a few calls and texts from them during said conversation. As I leave the apartment and start walking to my car, I look at the texts and start talking to them (its a weird habit of mine. yes, I talk to my texts. no, I can't help it). Meanwhile, as I'm staring at my phone, I basically just about walk into this girl who looks at me like I'm totally insane. I don't really blame her though. I mean, who just talks to their phone? That's odd.

Also, I got another job today. AAHHH! Sorry for yelling, but I'm really, really excited. Life is fabulous once again.

Plus I bought a new sweater today (it's warm and soft and is a gorgeous color), so really, it just doesn't get any better than this.

My life is so great, it should be a movie. Please, someone make my life into a movie. It would win many, many awards. Ha. Most Ridiculous, here we come; my life and I.

Go, life, go.

I have many warming feelings

Wow.

I am well aware that I say this quite often, but yesterday was awesome. Truly awesome. Just fabulous.

The delight all began at work. Now, there are many reasons why I love my job so very much, but the majority of those reasons will have to wait for a later post. I'm going to focus on just one reason today: the crazies.
Seriously. I don't know why it is, but the optical business boasts the largest "crazy customer" population of anybody out there. Go ahead, try to prove me wrong. I dare you.

My boss told me a story about a Crazy from awhile back. His name is Fezzik*. He came in for an exam and a few days later, a letter arrived in the mail. In this letter, Fezzik proceeded to express his gratitude and the "many warming feelings" he felt towards the doctor and "his place" and declared that he would be referring said doctor to his family and friends.

I have many warming feelings toward this story.


Onward! I had my public speaking class again yesterday. I gave a speech again. It was actually really fun. Somebody please explain this to me. I prepared no more for this particular speech than the previous two, which were disastrous. I was still quite nervous and I started off on a few tangents, but I was able to keep BSOS at bay. Totally weird. Perhaps it had something to do with the topic, which I was very excited about.

Informative speeches were the torture of the day. I spent much, perhaps too much time deliberating on a topic. For some reason, when my cousin/professor announced the assignment to my class, the first thing that came to mind was the American Black Bear. What the crap? I have no idea where that even came from, so don't ask. Problem was, as soon as that totally random thought entered my mind, it wouldn't leave. I was at a total loss. Every time I tried to brainstorm, my mind could would not get around that ridiculous American Black Bear. So I considered giving it a shot. That lasted about two seconds.

There are about 20 people in my class and 90% of them are dudes. I would have totally put them to sleep, and I really didn't want to do that. My previous speeches had been disastrous. This was my chance to redeem myself! (perhaps that was the reason things went so well... I'm pretty stubborn, and I was going to do well at this one dang it!)

Despite my determination, I still didn't have a topic. I ended up asking sister-in-law/coworker for help. This is how the conversation went:

Me: What topic is there that would be informative and not put a classroom full of college males to sleep??
Sister: Talk about how people's glasses work.
Me: I don't know how people's glasses work!
Boss: Well you should...
Me: Oh, by the way, I found my training binder in my room when I was cleaning it the other day
Boss: Maybe you should read it...
Me: Glasses are boring. Nobody cares how they work.
Sister: Informative speeches are supposed to be boring...
Me: I refuse to be boring!! Give me an exciting topic or give me death!!
(ok, so I didn't really say that, but I should have)

Enough of that. Sister proceeded to suggest talking about something that I was interested in because my interest is contagious and would make everyone enthralled with any and all words coming out of my mouth. Fantastic idea!

I like architecture. Well that's not going to work. There's too much to inform people about for a 7-10 minute speech. It would have had to go along these lines:
Me: This building is pretty. This one isn't. Etc....
Yeah. No.

I like cars. Well that's not going to work. My class is made up of mostly guys. They know all of this already. (yes, I realize this is a gross generalization. sue me.) Plus, as it turned out, there was a guy in my class who picked that very topic. It would have looked like I copied him. No bueno.

I like shoes. Hey.... this could work.... Bwah hah hah! My class is made up of mostly guys! They so don't know this stuff! I will inform them of it, and it will be FABULOUS!

Oh yes. Greatest idea. Ever.

Shoes turned into clothes and clothes turned into Haute Couture. Thank you Chanel and Dior for inspiring me to give the greatest speech ever. And what do you know, the guys seemed interested. They even asked questions when they didn't understand something.

"What's a frock?"

"So with the French regulations on the term 'Haute Couture', design houses can only have shops in Paris?"


Oh man. So funny. I guess I should have done a slide show to go along with it.

Next time, next time...




*names have been changed for privacy and entertainment purposes.

This is the song that never ends

Dog tired.

I am so familiar with that phrase at the moment.

My family and I plus my super-duper awesome buddy hauled, lifted and cut beams all day yesterday (not necessarily in that order) for the covered patio in the backyard. And by all day, I mean until 2:00 in the morning.

I can't lift my arms today.

I am so excited for it to be done. It will look great! Yet, I know as soon as this project is done, there will be a new one lurking just around the corner.

Yipee!

Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, DO!!

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swingin' hot spot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot

They took all the trees, and put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people a dollar and a half to see them
No, no, no
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise, and put up a parking lot
-Counting Crows, Big Yellow Taxi


I love this song. A lot. However, it seems that I haven't listened to it for quite some time and I have forgotten the lesson to be learned. *big, deep, dramatic sigh* Go figure.


I've had a vacation from my problems and I most certainly did not appreciate it. And now, now my vacation is over for a period of time. (hahahaha. pun.) I need to spend more of my time and effort on being grateful and focusing on the positive things in life. I think everyone could stand to be a little more grateful for the things they've been given.

I have resolved to do this. You should consider it also.

Here are just a few things that I am grateful for: Autumn and everything associated with it (this includes, but is not limited to: the changing of the leaves on the trees, the crisp chill in the air, Halloween, and Thanksgiving and Christmas just around the corner.), my family, my very dear friends whom I don't know what I would do without, the ceaseless opportunities there are for learning and growing, books, music (especially michael), technology, warm sweaters, indoor heating, ice cream, laughter, doctors (but only sometimes), facebook, hats, the scriptures, victoria's secret, shoes, c.s. lewis, intelligent people, sarcasm, bath and body works, fingernail polish, eirdach, popsicles (dreyer's fruit pops ONLY. preferably strawberry, tangerine or lemonade.), zombie runs, cell phones and a whole bunch of other stuff that I can't think of right now.

I think that's a good sized starter list.


I went to my auto class today. My oh my, I love it. I LOVE IT! First of all, my teacher is great. He's kind of an old dude, and there is one other girl in my class with me and then a bunch of guys. Teacher is just the greatest. He asks questions, makes fun of the girls for not knowing everything, and then answers any and all questions that either any of us have with what seems like a never-ending supply of patience. I talked to him today about a problem I was am having with my car and he told me to just bring it in to class next week and we'll take a look at it. He is just great! He asks people in the class what they want to learn and that's what we talk about. I haven't ever had a teacher that did that and it's fantastic. Gotta love a teacher who actually utilizes the input that he gets from his students.

I love learning about cars, what makes them go, why certain things happen, and how things under the hood work. I'm so stoked for next week; we're bringing in a bunch of cars (mine included) to run diagnostics on them. We're gonna get down and dirty. I can't wait.


When good things happen, it makes the bad things seem like such a small, insignificant part of life and everything is right in the world once again. As it should be.


I love days like today.








(Dang it. Now I'm craving popsicles....)

The Deadly Duo

Tonight I found myself in a bit of a sticky situation. You see, I was eating a popsicle in a rather warm room...

Seriously though. I'm taking a public speaking class at school this semester. It is divine. However, please allow me to add a small disclaimer to that statement. >I hate talking in front of people!< (those are my disclaimer marks, just in case you were wondering) So, as you can imagine, I have a somewhat difficult time.

Here's why: I get stage fright. Now, this isn't your typical case of nerves. We're talking full on brain-numbing, sweat-inducing, hand-trembling, you-get-the-pointing terror. Yes, terror. Pure, unadulterated, paralyzing terror. Convinced? No? Try this: Forget butterflies! It's more like my stomach being infested by a swarm of African killer bees. (how's that sound for a parasite? painful.)

Yet, for all that, the real kicker isn't the physical ailments. It's the mental ones. As you are well aware, (or at least you should be. for if you're not, you clearly don't know how to read subtitles) I have a condition. BSOS. Now combine what you know of that with terror so intense your brain forgets how to function properly. With the control I have over my brain under normal circumstances wrenched so unceremoniously from my grasping, metaphorical fingertips, the BSOS takes over. Let me tell you, it is the epitome of merciless.

Allow me to attempt to describe to you the horrifying process. >those of you with weak stomachs should read no further< (HA HA! another disclaimer)

No amount of preparation on my part can stay the wrath of the dreadful BSOS. My brain starts going about a million miles a minute, and my mouth blindly follows. It has recently become known to me that I also forget how to read. (Et tu, Brute?) Thus, my possession of even the most detailed of outlines is to no avail. I may cling to my sanity long enough to get the first, slightly coherent statement past my lips, but then I'm gone. BSOS running rampant through my mind, making the most asinine of connections between thoughts, stories, experiences and statements. It's pure chaos! The more disgruntled I become, the stronger BSOS clutches to my mind. My mouth lags further and further behind. I'm making exponentially less sense as the seconds tick painfully by, lost in the dust haphazardly thrown about from corners in my mind that have been neglected or ignored for years.

Finally, in my half-crazed state, I see in the distace the hand of my teacher go up. The end has come. Those 5 minutes of hellish torture have concluded. I'm so relieved I haven't suffered a serious cardiac arrest that I somehow manage to gain the upper-hand and shut my mouth. As the silence settles in around the victims of my violent attack, I begin to comprehend the full extent of the damage I've done. I take my seat, my cheeks cherry red after my brain registers the confused, yet relieved look in my classmate's eyes. And that's just the looks from the conscious ones, clearly they've got the brains and wherewithal to withstand the words coming out of my mouth to a small extent. As for the rest of the class, their glazed eyes convey to me the message I dread. I've done it again. Lost the battle.

I'll gladly take the fail if I never have to suffer through such agony again.

Twice.

I suspect half the terror comes from knowing it WILL happen again. Why oh why am I taking this class? I must be some sort of psychological masochist...

Good heavens have mercy