And She's True

Jeff did this tag, and it looked like something fun to change things up. So here you go:

JUST FOR FUN….
Feel free to do this yourself.

Directions:
1. Put your iPod, iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the “next” button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY OR NON-SENSICAL IT SOUNDS

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY?
More Than Words - Extreme

2. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
For the Longest Time - Billy Joel

3. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
Jaws Theme - John Williams

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Dream Catch Me - Newton Faulkner

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE PURPOSE?
I Dreamed a Dream - Debbie Byrne - Les Miserables Soundtrack

6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Ticket to Ride - The Carpenters

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Shine - Collective Soul

8. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Enjoy the View - Kim Richardson

9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
You Were Mine - Dixie Chicks

10. WHAT IS 2 + 2?
Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World - Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Circles - Soul Coughing

12. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Annie's Song - John Denver

13. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Theme from Shaft

14. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Beetlejuice Theme - Danny Elfman

15. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
When I'm Sixty Four - The Beatles

16. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
One Night in Bangkok - Chess Soundtrack

17. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Good People - Jack Johnson

18. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Harmony - Colors

19. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Satellite - Dave Matthews Band

20. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Any Dream Will Do - Andrew Lloyd Webber

21. SONG THEY WILL PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Every Little Thing She Does is Magic - Sting and the Police

22. WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
And She's True - Peter Breinholt

Missionsick

This time of the year five years ago (ugh) I was serving as a full-time missionary in the Arizona Tempe Mission. More specifically, I was serving in a small-ish mountain town called Pinetop-Lakeside, Arizona. Not many people picture themselves in a forest of pine trees when they think of Arizona, but believe me, it was like a little patch of Oregon had gotten lost and wandered too far south.

And I loved it. Well, other than the subtle but constant feeling of claustrophobia caused by the trees blocking my view of the horizon.

The small community was fairly tight-knit, and there was only one person to fill each role like in a storybook town. The postman, the grocer, the high school principal, the mortician, the restaurant manager... the whole time I served there the song "Who are the people in your neighborhood?" was in my head pretty constantly. And, well, we were your friendly neighborhood Mormon missionaries. Everyone knew who we were, and most people (LDS or no, crazy or sane, murder suspect and assault convict alike) liked us. We'd go out to eat to find out our meal had been already paid for. We'd get to the end of a grocery line to find that someone had already swiped their card to pay for our groceries. And, though it was my first Christmas away from my family, I never really got homesick due to the outpouring of love I received during the holiday season.

Instead, every holiday season since, my heart aches for Pinetop-Lakeside more than my heart ever ached for home while I was away.

So though I doubt any of these people know this blog exist, I'd like to give a few shout-outs:

To the Whatcott family, the kindest and most humble people I've ever known. Especially to Sister Whatcott, who has since passed away. She was too incredible for this earth, it seems.

To Cindy Brown and her husband, for the GIGANTIC basket of Christmas gifts and all the times they let us come in and interrupt their watching of the hunting channel to try and convince them to come to church. It never worked, but we were loved just the same.

To Erik Rudneck and his 8 year old daughter, for letting us play Risk with them instead of him drinking with his friends. It was only one night, but in his words, "hey, sober fun can be fun."

To Valerie's husband who restrung an old guitar he found at the D.I. and gave it to me for Christmas. He introduced me to the genre of cowboy poetry while my companion would sneakily teach the discussions to his wife while he was distracted.

To Little Dove, the crazy woman in town who seemed to be there to teach charity to everyone she encountered.

To Dave Shepherd, the manager of the Love Kitchen, for teaching me invaluable lessons about unconditional love and allowing us to serve the needy alongside him.

To Kerri Liddel and her kids for the large Christmas meal she made specifically for us, and for forgiving us for never showing up.

Those are just a few of the people who touched my life that Christmas. And, who knew I had to go to AZ to have my first white Christmas in years?

Thanks

... for the usual: my faith, freedoms, friends, family, health, food, shelter, and job.

But also...

... for my talents, my strengths, my weaknesses, those who aren't afraid to tell me I'm wrong, the opportunities I'm given to learn, the education I've received thus far, the opportunities I'm given to serve, those who inspire me to be a better person, those who are always there on the rare occasions that I'm humbled enough to ask for help.

And... strawberry rhubarb pie.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

What is this feeling?

For the first time ever, I do not have the slightest bit of dread on Monday mornings.

When my workday is supposed to be done, I don't leave as soon as I possibly can.

I will work for 6 or so hours until my growling stomach reminds me I've forgotten to eat that day.

Translation: my new position at work has been a very good change. It's a lot more fun to fight hunger on the front lines than on the back ones.

Two posts in the same week?!

... Hope I don't pull a muscle or anything.

I don't know how else to say this, but... I love people.

There is not a day that goes by when I'm not touched by someone and they have absolutely no idea that they're, um, touching me. (Careful.)

For example...

Yesterday I was in my car running errands for work. I drove past a pretty forgotten little street right next to the freeway, and in one glance I took in a parked garbage truck, a smaller car parked behind it, and a man, a woman, and a small child being held by the man standing near the two parked vehicles. And from that one glance I knew it was a man who drove a garbage truck for a living who had stopped for his lunch break, and his little family had driven out to meet him wherever he was, just to spend that one hour (or however long) with him.

I wanted to pull over and give them all a big hug. (I didn't. Believe it or not, I have SOME sense of social propriety.)

Another example: When I get the time I will spend my lunch at a park right near my work. I'll go park my car under the trees full of falling yellow and gold leaves, and I'll whip out a book and read during my break. Well, recently I've noticed that the same car always shows up around the same time I do; a middle-aged woman who will park some distance away from me, and then also just sit in her car and sometimes will whip out a book. Without having spoken to her I feel a bit of camaraderie with this woman. I don't know what she does for a living, I don't know if it's her dream job or a stressful one, but I do know that she appreciates a moment alone once a day to be near nature, to sort through her own thoughts and/or escape them by reading someone else's.

I flashed her a smile as I drove away from the park today. I'm pretty sure she's aware of my regular appearance during her lunchtime too.

Anyway, I don't really know what this post was about. I guess it's my little way of thanking the many strangers who inspire me each day, since thanking them individually would most likely creep them out.

Jagged little pills

Lessons I've recently learned in the continuing evolution of myself:

- I really am a very independent person.
- Independence is a sneaky form of pride; like many virtues, too much of it becomes a vice.
- Independence is a very hard habit to kick when in vice-form.
- Dependence is even harder for me to forgive in others.
- I don't like being defaulted to for decision-making purposes, just because I'm not afraid make decisions.
- I sometimes hold people to impossibly high expectations.
- I shouldn't.
- I also shouldn't blog when I'm tired.

Apologies to anyone harmed in the making of this person.

If you don't know me by now...

I DARE any one of you to say you didn't just start singing an 80's song upon reading this title.

Anyway, check this out. It pretty much epitomizes one of my defining characteristics. Thanks to Nate for finding it.

I hope to blog more soon. But I hope for many things. We'll see if it happens.

TMI

Special thanks to Erin for giving me an assignment to blog about. She tagged me to write 6 insignificant things about myself. I think I've done this tag before, but I'm just a wealth of insignificance, so here are 6 new ones:

1) I sneeze in threes (generally). This has become common knowledge to most who interact with me regularly because I'm pretty much constantly sneezing from April to October. A related story: Once in junior high I sneezed my triple sneeze and the kid in front of me turned around and said, "You're a witch."

"Excuse me?"

"You're a witch. Witches sneeze in threes."

Another related thought... I often wonder what happens in the third sneeze to get the tickle out of my nose that is not accomplished in the first or second one. These are the thoughts that occupy my brain instead of, oh, I don't know, what day and time my Relief Society Presidency meeting is or the important document I was supposed to mail at work.

2) Any touristy place I go I try and find one of those penny-squishing machines. I have probably two dozen squished pennies now between me and my friend McWayne. Our deal is that whoever gets married first gets to keep all of the pennies. Like it's some kind of incentive (incentive... get it?) to hurry the process along. Eternal bliss nothin... I want those pennies!

3) I would readily eat something salty before something sweet. I'll take popcorn or cheese fries over ice cream or cookies any day.

4) I HATE purses. I wish that it were socially acceptable for girls to wear baggy jeans so they could carry their keys and wallet in a pocket and not have it look ridiculous (or cancerous). The purse I currently own has been mine for probably 5 years, and is more of a satchel than a purse really. It's fading and wearing thin, meaning I'll have to purchase a new one soon. Every time I try to buy a new one, I get frustrated and mad at society. (Erin, maybe you should take me purse shopping.)

5) Anytime I know there's a key change coming up in a song, I say (or think, depending on my surroundings) "Key change!" right before it happens. This is thanks to being raised with a musician as an older brother who liked to do that anytime we were on family outings in the car. I also drum on everything, thanks to my drummer of a little brother. It would be cooler if I knew what the heck I was doing. I don't. But dang it, I know a key change when I hear one.

6) I cannot swim with my face in the water without having one hand plugging my nose. I've tried to teach myself, to no avail. I've tried to have others teach me, also unsuccessfully. In short, I'm not the first person you want to have with you in a high-risk swimming environment, because I'd probably still try to save you, but with one arm plugging and the other arm propelling, that leaves my toes to try and grasp a drowning victim. A couple years ago I had dreams of becoming a water aerobics instructor (snicker all you want, I'd be awesome at it), but when I realized that certified instructors also need to be certified lifesavers, I came off that cloud real quickly.

There you go. Maybe people should give me assignments more often. It seems I miss school.

The one where I catch up.

People spend their Labor Day in a variety of ways. I spent mine at a fascinating display of animal instinct. This was an incredibly intense standoff between the dog and the sheep who were NOT going to go quietly.


People run for a variety of reasons. I run, actually, for a variety of reasons myself. On Sept. 6th I ran the Wasatch Women Love Your Body 5k race. I finished in better time than I thought I would. I went alone, meaning I had only me to take this less-than-awesome picture. I want to run another one Thanksgiving morning, and then another on New Years Eve.


People head to Northern Utah for a variety of reasons. I went to soothe the Logan-shaped hole in my heart. My friend Codi and I went to see our friend Valene... and we couldn't help but purchase some things at the Fruit Way en route. This is a fabulous picture of Codi, if I do say so myself.


People go to Southern Utah for a variety of reasons. I went to go see the musical Big River at Tuacahan. While there I also was privileged to see some of the most beautiful landscape on earth, reminding me how much I love Utah.


And, finally, people plan on purchasing new iPods for a variety of reasons. I'll be purchasing mine soon because this graphic is the only thing my iPod will display after a tragic running accident.


I plan on purposely slowing my life down a bit... meaning that future posts might just have original insight in them rather than just being a travel log.

This past week I...

... saw a sheepdog championship. (entertaining.)
... learned more about potential moving options. (thought-provoking.)
... caught up with some good friends. (amusing.)
... caught up on some church calling stuff. (overdue.)
... helped put on a benefit concert. (under-attended.)
... ran a 5k. (exhilerating.)
... saw Big: the musical. (the movie is better.)
... became truly brunette. (a good change.)
... went to the improv. (satisfying.)
... taught Relief Society. (anxiety-inducing.)
... inherited a suped-up XBox. (will never be bored again.)
... blogged about my week. (also overdue.)

This coming week I...

... will go to the fair.
... will catch up with some more good friends.
... will do more church calling stuff.
... will participate in YSA Family Feud.
... will escape to a magical land called Logan for the weekend.
... hope to go running at least twice.
... hope to post some pictures of past activities for your viewing pleasure.

Sorry everyone. This is what it's come to.

Shameless Self-Promotion

Lately I've been thinking a bit about the sensation of hunger. How rare it is that I go very long feeling hungry without being able to immediately eat something to satisfy me at least to the point of no longer being uncomfortable. And then I think about the times that I fast and how, at times, it's difficult to concentrate on anything else other than NOT being able to eat.

And then I wonder about those who do not have the blessing of always having food within their reach, and how miserable that must be. It must be incredibly difficult to function when that fundamental need of nourishment isn't being met.

And then it makes me happy to work where I do (the BANK of FOOD in UTAH... I've learned that if I type it all together that the PR girl can run a search and find out where it's being posted and I'd rather them not read my blog). I am able to spend my 40 hours a week trying to meet that fundamental need for people, even if it's somewhat indirectly at times.

That being said, I'd like to invite you all to an event coming up this Friday, September 5th. The Summer Hunger Jam is a free hunger awareness concert at the Gateway (near the fountain) from 6pm-9pm. The headliners are Nancy Hanson and Nathan Osmond so it'll be pretty hokey, but if you need to shop or are looking for something to do (or are looking for ME) then come on over.

...Unless you're in my ward and female. In that case you're cordially invited to attend Enrichment that night, and if I see your face at the concert I'll bounce you.

The milkman, the paperboy, evening TV.

Do you like pictures? Here's hopin'. I now present to you a highly visual account of my week in San Francisco.

I met my co-worker and traveling companion Linda at the airport Sunday morning. Our flight departed at 8:30am-ish. This was my view as our plane started moving.


These colorful chunks of the salt flats confused me. What exactly are they farming out there? Red and green sea monkeys for Christmas time? Anyone with a real answer to this is encouraged to leave a comment and end my wondering.


They tell me that the earth is round, but for whatever reason I'm still fascinated when I see the curvature of it for myself.


Our landing was uneventful. We found ourselves a shuttle and shared it with a tall young man with a deep southern accent. Further conversation revealed that he was an major league baseball umpire and was there to umpire the game between the Oakland A's and the Chicago White Sox. He looked about my age (the youngest in the league, he informed us) and he told us that umpire training camp is a lot like boot camp: they yell at you a lot to build up your nerves. I always thought professional umpires and referees must be the most depressed and dejected people ever, but this fellow was quite chipper. I ALMOST asked to get a picture of him, but thought that would creep him out.

After we dropped the umpire off our driver started to chat with us a bit. When he found out we were from Salt Lake he asked if we were Mormon, to which Linda remained silent (she isn't, and has a bit of a chip on her shoulder sometimes about it) and I told him that I was. He then told me about how beautiful the new Oakland temple is and that every time he has friends come in from India that he takes them to the LDS visitors center there, and then takes them to HIS temple where they let EVERYONE in, unlike the LDS temple. He then asked me how many wives Mitt Romney has. I wished I had gotten off with the umpire at the baseball stadium.

We got to our hotel, which I'll show you more of in a second. They wouldn't let us officially check in until 3pm and we were there around 10:45am, so I dropped my bag off and headed toward the trains. In an effort to not have to spend an entire day sightseeing with a co-worker (who isn't my first choice of companionship) I decided I was going to find my way to church in San Francisco. It just so happened that the only meeting in the area that started later was a singles ward.

I hopped on a train heading in the right direction and swiftly realized that though I was on the right train and had the address I needed to stop at that I hadn't the foggiest idea how far that would be. So I started to send secret hopes into the heavens that somehow I'd figure out which stop was mine, and no sooner had I started to panic that a kid in a suit, tie, and suspiciously-scripture-shaped luggage got on the train and sat across from me. I said a silent prayer of thanks and summoned my courage and asked if he was LDS, and he was. He also happened to be a YSA headed to the same church I was, so I asked if I could just follow him there. He turned out to be the choir director of the ward, and he let me join in their choir practice while I waited for church to start. The ward was incredibly friendly and I very much enjoyed my Sunday.

One thing I like about San Francisco is that it is full of characters. This girl, for instance. I was waiting for my train back to the hotel when I was joined by this girl dressed in a medieval dress and a head-to-toe green crushed-velvet cape. I was hungry and tempted to ask her for some lembas bread, but decided against it. But I did try to sneakily take a picture and this is all I got.


Another thing I love about San Francisco is how entertaining people are on the streets. Here's some footage of a very talented group of guys who I saw on my way back from church:

One thing I do NOT love about S.F. is the humidity. My nice and straightened hair when I left Salt Lake had turned into this mess of a mane by the end of the day. Note the expression of amused disgust on my face:

Here's a picture of our humble accommodations. The Union Square Plaza Hotel is a remodeled boarding house. You know in the movie Big where Tom Hanks first runs away from home and takes up residence in a seedy downtown hotel? It kind of reminded me of that.

The sign:

The front door:

The view from our fifth floor looking down the stairs:


The view out the window:


I was in S.F. in the first place to train on a software that my employer uses to maintain records, so that's what the bulk of my week was spent doing (from 9am - 5pm each day). Monday after training we decided to walk from our training facility to Fisherman's Wharf. Here's a creepy circus being advertised during our walk. Wouldn't YOU want to come play?


Fisherman's Wharf turned out to be a touristy mall. I don't love shopping, so I was a bit disappointed.


The sealions even disappointed. Not a ONE balanced ANYTHING on his nose.


The clam chowder in the sourdough breadbowl, however, did not disappoint.


From the Wharf we walked further down the water to Ghiradelli square. What's that, I asked? More shopping, it turns out. But there was an abundance of stores that offered the namesake chocolate that is so popular.

The little girl playing peek-a-boo in line with me while I waited to purchase my goods.


My chocolate overdose, with my coworker Linda in the background with hers.


At this point I had my fill of the tourist bit for one evening, but Linda insisted that we wait the hour in line to ride a trolly. So we waited.

This man entertained us while we waited. For whatever reason I was incredibly touched by the contrast between his destitute appearance and the richness of his voice and his talent. It made me wish I could get him to a different state of life where he could impress a whole lot more people than the masses at the trolley stop. But, maybe he really digs it there, who knows. This is a bit of his song (I'm sorry about the people talking rather loudly in the background. I was able to tune them out, but apparently my camera wasn't):

We finally got on our trolley (in the middle crammed by people and without a view because it was dark), and it promptly broke down about ten minutes into our ride. We were ushered off the trolley onto a shuttle bus to take us the rest of the way, and the bus bottomed out pretty hard in one intersection and threw us all violently forward into each other. As we finally got off the bus the back doors closed on Linda as she was trying to get off. She eventually admitted that maybe the trolley wasn't the best of ideas.

Though exhausted by the many miles of walking, I was pleased with my purchases:

The next day after training we explored Chinatown. Here was the gate:

And, here are the souveniers I chose for my roommates. They're pencil erasers. And I couldn't stop laughing at them:

We stopped at one of the many Chinese food restaurants (or, in this context, just plain restaurants) and ate some of the real stuff. Turns out I prefer the fake stuff... but here's a shot of me eating my Mongolian beef and rice:


There was some kind of drama going on between the owner of the restaurant and this shady-lookin' guy in the background of the following picture in the leather jacket. All I know is he came in and there was a heated exchange before the owner finally gave the leather-jacket guy a fistful of money and retreated back to the kitchen. This is a (sneaky) shot of the leather jacket guy, victorious, counting his money:


The next morning Linda called me and informed me that she found bugs in her bed and that she was arranging for us to switch hotels. This made me grumpy because I thought our hotel was just fine (though a little run down) and we DO work for a non-profit organization, so what does she expect? However, before long I found myself being magically whisked away from the old hotel to this beauty:



This is my room. It is way more impressive in person:



I spent the whole time during training fuming at the fact that we were now costing the organization $300 a night instead of $89, because the money could surely used for better causes than my comfort. But my guilt eventually was removed by other co-workers at work via email during the training, and eventually I decided to embrace my comforts since there wasn't anything I could do about it:


At this point I think Linda was pretty tired of me and I had sure had my fill of her, so for Wednesday and Thursday nights we kind of did our own thing and didn't venture far from the hotel. We did go hunt for ice cream together to celebrate the fact that we were going home the next day, because at that point both of us were DONE and ready to go home.



Though I really enjoyed San Francisco as a city and vacation destination, I think I'll enjoy it more when I have more time to explore and friends to be with. So, for now, I was happy to leave it behind and get back to my loved ones in boring ol' West Valley.


And that was my trip. More than anything it made me decide that if I ever become homeless that I'm headed to S.F. because I'll be in good (and talented) company.

Ding Ding!

I'm leaving tomorrow morning on a business trip. I promise to document it well and will tell my tales when I return. In the meantime, here's a fairly obvious hint at my destination:

Wend-ding

Before I begin with the topic at hand, I'd like to thank you all for the memories posted in the last post. Every single one of them made me smile and/or chuckle out loud. Cookies all around!

This past Saturday one of my dearest friends Wendy Whitaker became Wendy Larson. Most of those who read this blog regularly are acquainted with her, so these pictures are for you! Those who don't, well... read on anyway. You may find yourself amused nonetheless.

It was a pleasantly overcast day at the Mount Timpanogos Temple. This was supposed to be more artistic of a shot, but instead it's just the view you would have if you passed out in a flowerbed on the temple grounds.


The sealing was beautiful and happy (as sealings are wont to be). Then there were pictures outside of the temple:


The happy couple:


This is Sam and I. Sam is Dave's best friend. These are the faces we made upon the prompt of "seductive winks". With such powers it amazes us that we're the single ones.


We made our way to the wedding luncheon to find Wendy's siblings using the M&Ms on the table to bet on anything and everything they could. Such bets included the exact time Wendy and Dave would arrive at the luncheon, whether or not Wendy would eat everything on her plate, and how many speeches would be made at the event.


Upon closer inspection these were no ordinary M&Ms...


To complete our juvenile behavior, we used the tiny champagne glasses (no longer full of M&Ms) to toast to the newlyweds.


The reception was beautiful as well, and I saw many familiar faces. After their honeymoon Dave and Wendy are moving to Hawaii to work and live... and to find me a handsome Polynesian boy. Congrats to them!

Scattered PIC-tures....

Alrighty, I'm totally cheating here. Bonny had a really fun blog entry challenging all of her readers to tell a memory they had of her, and the most amusing one would win a prize.

I'm going to request the same from any of you reading this. However, it will have to be pure intrinsic motivation that gets you to play along, because I have no prize to offer for the most amusing memory. Well, maybe I have a better idea. Every single one of you that records a memory in the comments will have the right to request homemade chocolate chip cookies from me at any given time (understanding that the production turnaround will be no less than 24 hours.)

This is redeemable forever, so if you're not in my vicinity currently then next time you're here vacationing or visiting family or have made the trek purely for the cookie's sake (which is understandable because I make a mean chocolate chip cookie), so be it. Also, a special prize for the first person who can make sense of the title of this entry.

So start racking your brains, kids. I'd love to hear what memories of me have stuck in your heads. Also because at the rate my own memory is failing me I can use the reminding. Ready go!

Oh, the picture at the top is pretty old... though that's probably pretty close to what I look like squinting nowadays. I put it on this entry because I'm looking back. Which is what you'll all be doing. Get it? Ha. Ahaha.

Oblogotory

It's been a week and a half - and I'm due for a blog entry. However, time is short and pictures of my activities are few. So instead, I'll offer a few questions from a book I got for my birthday/Christmas entitled If... Questions for the Soul.

If you feel so inclined, answer these for yourself in the comments so I can get to know my audience a bit better and possibly cater future blog entries to you! *That's a lie. There will be no catering.*

If you could plan your last meal, what would be on your menu?

My answer: Chicken Salad from Cafe Rio and a lemonade Slurpee.

If you could be buried or have your ashes spread anywhere on earth, where would it be?

My answer: Somewhere in Grand Teton National Park.

If you were to have one entertainer at your funeral, who would it be?

My answer: Karen Carpenter. Not only would she sing beautifully, but she'd be a ghost, and THAT would be cool.

These, believe it or not, are some of the less ridiculous ones. Some of those include:

What is life's greatest adventure?

If you were the devil for a day, what would you do?

And my personal favorite:

If an angel were to come down and whisper one thing in your ear every day, what would you want it to be?

Feel free to answer these ones as well, but I reserve the right to make fun of you.

Step right up!

Sometimes your dreams and ambitions are like balloons that you release into the sky and the hope in your heart can't help but spill over into a hopeful expression on your face (thanks to Wendy and Melanie for the forced looks of hopefulness.)


Sometimes those dreams and ambitions encounter obstacles that, at the time of releasing, weren't considered obstacles. Like a big fat giant pine tree far away from where you released your ambition and dream balloons.


And sometimes your carefully planned hopes and dreams get stuck in the unforseen obstacle, never to escape, and all the hope in your heart and on your face (real or pretended) was all for not.


The end. Now didn't that inspire you? Let's hope it's not an omen for Wendy's upcoming marriage... a shower for which warranted the occasion for the life metaphor. (What?) Thanks to Heather for the shower concept (carnival themed) and thanks to Wendy for the excuse. Congrats!


Speaking of freak shows, notwithstanding the cuteness of this picture of Katey Teece and I, I'm starting to notice that my facial features are disproportionately large. Like someone photoshopped my face onto a head that was too small.


Maybe I should be a carny for REAL. Sadly, I'd probably make more than I do now...

Come sail away

Sometime around February my friend Jason called and asked if I had plans for the 4th of July. Being someone who only plans their life a week or so at a time, of course I didn't. So he excitedly told me that Styx would be performing in Logan on the 4th of July, and he wanted me to come.

Now, while some other people's parents raised them listening to bands like Styx, Poison, Journey, REO Speedwagon and the like, my parents were busy raising me on James Taylor, John Denver, and the Carpenters. My mom was raised in Soda Springs, Idaho and my dad was a choir geek, so frankly I didn't have a chance. But, notwithstanding my big hair band ignorance, I told him to get me a ticket.

Jason requested that we dress up for the affair. I forgot that request until I got to Logan and found Jason in cut-off black jeans and a hideous tie-dyed shirt, with his hair all skewampus and lines etched into the side of his head. I felt bad that he was so committed and I had come unprepared, so I borrowed a bandana and pulled my hair down in messy braids. This is us, giving our best white trash expressions (I don't know what that means either.)


It also happened to be the weekend of the annual Cruise In, so between the car show crowd and the Styx fans there was a colorful group of people to behold. Right in front of us there sat two women; one, a woman who had come by herself to relive her glory days and couldn't stop moving to the music, the other, a silent Japanese woman who looked like she had gotten lost and stumbled upon the concert. The first woman (who I found out later is named Stacey) kept turning to the Japanese lady and talking to her excitedly about the concert, and the Japanese woman just kind of looked at her bewildered. It was making me laugh, so I took a picture of them the best I could without being hauled off by concert security (cameras being prohibited as they were.)
The concert was extremely entertaining... Those Styx characters put on a very fun show. Only a couple of the songs sounded even familiar to me, but it didn't matter. The keyboard-playing one was especially animated, and at one point he broke out into something completely different. Here's a little bit of what he was playing; I regret I didn't record it all but because I was doing it sneakily I had to cut it off early.

Hope you all were able to celebrate your freedoms this weekend in equally amusing ways.