Christmas with the Masters

Provo Tabernacle Aflame

First Photos

I am basically a Sociologist.

One week people.

I'm So Excited!

And I just can't hide it!


Really. I am so excited I could burst. Here are some things I/we have to look forward to in the coming weeks:

- "A lot of people go to school for 7 years"   "Yeah, they're called doctors."
That's right! In exactly 3 days of class, we will kiss working on our undergraduate degrees goodbye! It was a quick 5.5 years.

- Jaron & Jess & my most favorite squashies in all the land are coming to town tonight! And my prospects for babysitting the munchkins on Saturday is looking pretty good!


-  We will be celebrating our own Christmas with just the two of us tomorrow night/fri morning and I will finally get to play with this: 

isn't it dreamy??

- We will have our 2nd Christmas with some friends in our ward on the 11th which will include a slumber party, white elephant gift exchange, Christmas movies, and pranks for the suckers who fall asleep first which hopefully won't be me.

- 3rd Christmas will be celebrated w/ Danny's fam on the real Christmas day. Festivities will likely include fort building, playing in the snow, snowboarding, skiing, and a Christmas Talent Show.

- I fly to Okla on the 26th to play with the Browns!! yay!!

- 4th Christmas will be held sometime on or after the 26th with the Brown's which will include a Christmas play and sibling gift exchange

- We are most likely going somewhere really cool in February but I must spare the details until we know for sure!

Now just gotta get through our (collective) 8 finals, writing portfolio, and research papers!!

Mother Goose and Her Gosling

After a 2 week late phone call (for Jess),a day late call for Liv, and 2 returned bday cards (bc i sent to the wrong address) it has become necessary to formulate a birthday blog for my two favorite female Washingtonians.
Happy Birthday Olivia and Jessica!! We love you so much!

5 Favorites about Jess:
- she is good at everything! literally
- she is brave
- she is fun
- she is a great mom
- she is thoughtful

5 Favorites about Liv:
- 90% of the things we say are Olivia quotes  
- she is the ultimate sassy pants
- she is smart
- she is a princess
- she is the cutest violinist ever

Can't wait to see you both in a few short weeks!!

I hate college rivalry weekend.

Can't we all just be friends?

Anna Tew

I am withdrawing my previous post on Birthdays to give way to this birthday post dedicated to one of my favorite people on this earth: Anna Tew.

I am not exaggerating when I say I have never seen Anna have a bad day. Sure, sucky things happen to her, but she makes the most of it and stays cheerful. She is literally the most cheerful person I know. When we lived in Hawaii she would knock on my window at 5 30 in the morning to see if I wanted to watch the sunrise and me and my roommate would groan, throw things at her, or ignore her (she loves to watch the sunrise and wanted some company). She never let our rudeness bother her and would come back a few hours later to beach it or have some kind of adventure as if our grumpiness hadn't affected her at all. 


She is such a loyal friend. I have never heard her speak badly about anyone in their absence. Her positive outlook on life is contagious. I feel lucky to know her! She makes you feel like you are the most important person in the world.

I just love the girl. So, Anna, Happy Birthday!!!

Time and Place for Everything.

Pranayama is a breathing technique employed in yoga. It entails deep loud breathing through the nose. Essentially, it is the art of controlling ones' breathing.
Loud breathing is acceptable if one is engaged in a yogic activity. The two essentialities here are 1) controlling the breath and 2) being involved in exercise (yoga). 

Slumber is another moment where heavy breathing may be permissible. This is true only if the individual sleeps alone. Also, regrettably, breath is uncontrollable while sleeping.  

Loud breathing through the nose is not acceptable if an individual is engaged in any other activity that does not involve exercise or sleep. To be astutely clear, listed next are moments where loud breathing may be inappropriately implemented.

- when sitting behind someone who is taking a test (also, if one were to bounce one or both feet on the desk in front of them)
- when in a quiet public setting (like a library)
- while eating (the chances are good that if someone is a loud breather during feeding time, they are also a smacker, which means they definitely don't have friends)
- in an elevator. It's just gross and creepy.
- in an office that you share with other people

There is a time and place for everything. Heavy nasal breathing should be saved for two very special occasions: sleep and exercise.

Sometimes I wake up

and get wierded out by the fact that I am not 12 anymore.

Things I am Thankful for This Day

Graduating from BYU after 6 LONG years in December yeahhhhh!
Ice cream which unfortunately has snuck its way back into my life on a nearly daily basis. I have missed you!

Vacations that keep me sane
Education... on to law school! and dental school for Dan!
 
Turkeys who have to die for Thanksgiving
Husby. and Harry Potter 7 which I will see on Thursday!!
A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving and.. Christmas!
Not having to pay $1500 on Thursday to get my wisdom teeth out, but rather, getting paid instead!!
Kin. There was no F else wise I would have put family.
Summer. Just thinking about it helps me survive from January-May

can't wait to watch this!! :

Birthdays?

Sometimes I wonder why we celebrate birthdays. Everyone has one, so is it really that special? I understand people wanting to celebrate on the actual day of birth, but is it necessary to do it every year? Further, no one had to do anything to be born. If we are going to celebrate anything, it should be a celebration for moms. Afterall, they dealt with 9 months of us bouncing on their bladders and practicing kung fu on their insides. Not to mention the barfy-ness, nausea, psycho cravings and hormones. Also the hours and hours of contractions and the actual birthing process.
Next time it is my birthday, I am just going to give my mom a hug and say "hey, thanks for giving birth to me. Happy birthday." And maybe i'll bake her a cake.

Also, this is my 100th post. So cheers.
Also, Happy Halloweenie!

p.s. Danny- this does not get you off the hook for my birthday next year

How Boys are Different than Girls

Mondays stink in that I leave at 6 in the am, and then get home around 5 in the pm. Danny leaves for work at 4 in the pm and gets home at 8 in the pm.
So, translation, we kiss each other good night on Sunday and then don't see each other til the next night at 8. Me no likey.

Today I had a great idea. I was going to throw Danny a Halloween party! The only downside is that I had to wait for Danny to get home because he had the car (I bus to SLC for my job) so that I could go to the store and get everything we would need to party hard halloween style. Once I threw a party for just myself and Danny last summer when we lived in DC. I thought it was pretty epic.

Danny came in the door tonight.
"Danny! Hi! Lets have a Halloween party!"
"Okay... why?"

Hmm. That wasn't the reaction I was hoping for.
"Fine. Lets have a halloween FHE." (I knew this approach would be more succesful since FHE is something you are supposed to do.)
Ok. That will be fun.

So I ran to the store and got all the things I needed for our Halloween party. We were going to have mummies in a blanket for dinner (pigs in a blanket, just wrapped mummy style)
Here is how the assembling of said mummies went:

Guess which ones I made and which ones Danny made.
I was like Danny.. they are supposed to be mummies!To which he responded, "well.. they taste the same" haha. I love him.
Next, we (and I use the term we very, very loosely) were going to make and decorate halloweenish cupcakes. After they were done baking, Danny came into the kitchen, put frosting on one, jabbed a kit kat into it, and stuffed it into his face like this:

when he was finished, he said "I'm full" and walked back into the living room to do homework.
And that is the difference between boys and girls. Oh well at least I can party with myself. I turned up the IHome and went to town. Here is how the rest of the cupcakes turned out:

 My favorite is the tree.

Happy Halloween 2010.

p.s. Danny is not a jerk. He just actually cares about doing homework like a good boy should. 

Think then Speak. Or... Don't Speak.

The time has come for me to have a heart to heart with the majority of Provo, particularly females ages 18-20. Actually, I am confident that this could be extended to anyone living anywhere at all. Please do not be offended if you are guilty of having said either of these two awful cliche phrases. Know that (with literally the smallest amount of effort on your part) you can change.

Let us begin with annoying cliche phrase number one.

"Everything Happens for a Reason"

Uh... kind of. But usually things happen because of you. Often, things happen for a reason and the reason is you made a choice. And the reason you are saying this phrase if often that you have done something stupid and therefore something crappy has happened to you. 

Allow me to defend my statement; here are some examples and reasons pertaining to why "things" usually happen (in no particular order)

YOU are an idiot.
And hey, that's okay! We all are. We all do dumb things. But let's not dump our poor choices into a phrase that states the obvious.
YOU did something you weren't suppose to do. And that "thing" has consequences:
YOU are fat because you eat too much. That is why fatness "happened" to you. That is the reason. Now, don't be so hard on yourself. Get up and go to the gym. Its all good. Fatness can be overcome.
YOU got pregnant because you didn't practice birth control. Not because it was meant to be. I feel like I don't need to explain this further.
YOU failed your test because YOU didn't study enough. Why on earth else would this happen??
Your boyfriend broke up with YOU because YOU cheated on him, he didn't like you, you guys weren't compatible, etc. There are bucketfuls of reasons. Lets not be victims. It didn't work out, so good thing you didn't marry him. But if you cheated, or you did something stupid, own up to it, apologize, and move on. And know THAT is why that happened to you. 
Stopppp using this cliche phrase. It doesn't even make sense. And you are not a victim.
People who don't take responsibility for their actions are annoying.

The next item up for discussion, which is doubly annoying because it takes half of the amount of thought as the previous phrase:

"I know, right?!"

I know right?
I know, right!
I know! Right?

What are you even trying to say? Do you need me to confirm that "you know" something? Or are you saying that you know what's right?
Why do you say this phrase??
I turned to the ever trusty  urban dictionary to clarify the meaning of the phrase. It proved useful for all intents and purposes. 

1. I know, right?  :

A way to express the concept of "yes" if you are not quite articulate enough to say that mighty imposing word.

2. I know, right?  :

An affirmation that you agree with or can relate to the preceding statement. It can be used whether the speaker actually knows or not, but in the latter case it usually means that the speaker can attribute the preceding statement to themselves as well. 

 

and my personal favorite:

 

	3. I know, right?  : The stupidest saying in the entire world. Also shortened to "right?" because the proles who chose to use this word and too lazy to use proper English.   Jack: Dude, I just got a 50 percent on my math quiz. Jackie: I know, right? Jack: Wait, what?

 I think what bothers me most about this phrase is that it comes from the movie Mean Girls. Mean Girls! Regina George says it. Now, is that who you want to end up like? Regina George? Did you see that movie? She gets hit by a bus!

In summary, stop using these mindless phrases. Or you will be hit by a bus.

Marathon Revised

I'm taking a creative writing class and decided to rewrite a previous blog for a creative nonfiction piece that is due today. Its long. Cheers.

Everything about my second marathon was weird. It was June 12^th and a chilling 45 degrees with heavy rainfall, thick air, and low clouds. Virtually the exact opposite of the weather I had trained in and expected. A fuel inefficient toxic 1985 event bus carried all the athletes from a mall in south Provo, Utah up to the starting line in Walsburg (up Provo canyon) at an eye aching 3:30 am. A man roughly in his early 40’s sat next to me on the bus ride up. He ate a crusty cheese bagel and drank whole milk. I’m not sure how that whole milk sat in his stomach on the run, but hopefully that turned out okay for him. Despite the bagel crumbs falling out of his mouth while talking, he was a kind man and calmed my nerves by distracting me with some good old fashioned small talk on the tense 45 minutes bus ride. As a contractor, he was forced to sell off his properties when the economy flipped upside down in 2008, leaving him jobless and utterly bankrupt. Running had become therapy for him as he tried to hide the fear in his eyes from his 3 teenage daughters and wife of 19 years. I understood the therapy thing. Running had been therapy for me when my relationship with Danny (my husband) was on the rocks before we got married.

Danny is naturally good at everything he does. He is also an incredibly hard worker when he puts his mind to it. He took 2^nd place in his first triathlon last year. The first marathon I did, I got through. My goal was just to finish. Danny inspired me to be competitive in this second marathon. I wanted not only to finish, but to actually do really well. It was kind of like how all my life I had been getting through things—getting through high school, getting through college, getting through the work day, whatever. I was tired of just getting through things. What is the point of just getting through things anyway? I wanted to do well and enjoy myself.

When we arrived at the starting line, there were thousands of runners stretching and warming up. There was a camping smell from a big orange bon fire and lots of bagels and pastries that were soaking in the torrential rain. A male announcer on a microphone was trying to direct people to the starting line, bathrooms, and where to pick up prizes and t-shirts. He was awfully energetic for 3:30 am. I was thankful for my ugly Pepto Bismol colored poncho that Danny made me wear. My fingers were pruney and frozen as I tried to push my way to the back of the colossal crowd that began at the starting line and finished about 100 yards behind it. The thick clouds made the darkness of the early morning even darker. Thousands of contestants chattered with each other and bounced around in preparation for the 26.2 miles to come.

The runners were antsy as the start of the marathon was delayed due to the weather. There was unstoppable pushing from runners in the back of the line which turned into a gigantic mosh pit and made it almost impossible for me to get on the outside of the crowd. The poncho I had once been thankful for suddenly made me intensely claustrophobic.

In the weeks before the marathon, I had really doubted whether I was actually going to go through with it. I knew I hadn’t trained enough. And… this time I knew what to expect. I knew what the marathon would be like. I knew what it would feel like to “hit the wall” and how the bottoms of my feet would ache and the soreness that would ensue for the next few days. Before my first marathon, I had no idea what to expect so I had no fears. Isn’t that something nice about ignorance? It allows us to do things we wouldn’t do if we knew what it was like. Things are always scarier the second time. When I was living in Hawaii, I was walking to school one day. My friend Keri called and announced that I in fact, was not going to class, and that she was on her way with a group of people and we were going sky diving. It was exhilarating riding the airplane up, asking myself “why on earth are you about to jump out of a plane??” and then jumping out and bombing through the sky like a hawk after its prey. Would I do it again? No. Well… probably. But it would definitely be way scarier knowing exactly how it feels to skydive and knowing more about all the things that could go wrong (i.e. hole in parachute, parachute not opening, having stupid instructor, not opening parachute at the right time, hitting the ground too hard and breaking legs, etc).

I managed to muscle my way through the mob to the outskirts of the starting line. If there was one thing I knew, it was better to wait to begin the race than to try to run around clumsy people all jammed together.

           The gun shot sounded and the tangled runners were on their way. I chuckled as the excited competitors tripped over each other. I waited until the masses had cleared out before I crossed the starting line and the timer on my time chip began ticking away heavily at me, reminding me of my pace. The beautiful canyon provided lush greenery, a lake, and a river to distract me from over focusing on my running. Oh.. not to mention the pounding rain that made it slippery causing me to concentrate more on not falling than worrying about what speed I was running. But it really was beautiful and I accomplished the first 5k in a self best time of 19 min 30 seconds. Even then, I don't think I really committed to the marathon until about mile 17 of the actual race.
          At mile 14, an excruciating crazy pain in my upper tail bone began shooting way up my back. It felt like someone was grabbing my lower spine with tweezers, twisting it, and trying to pull it through the middle of my back.  Have you ever played the game Operation? You stick these metal tongs into this open body and if you accidentally touch anything besides the organs (or whatever you are trying to pull out) the game buzzes at you. I probably felt like how the poor Operation man feels when he gets buzzed. I honestly wanted to die. And there was no relief. Walking did not help. It was legitimately the most intense pain I have experienced and I didn’t know what to do about it. Do I stop the race? My hand wiped my face and I realized I had been crying. I continued running and pathetically crying for 3 miles until I came to an aide station at mile 17 where I sat and bawled my eyes out like the big sissy I am. I was sure I couldn’t finish. I was in serious pain. I was frustrated and I was furious. I had spent the past 16 weeks training for nothing? I am this weak?
         In between these thoughts, I quit feeling sorry for myself and got up and started running. It was time to get to work. I hadn’t come this far to be defeated. My back pain was a little less noticeable because I had abruptly stopped running and sat down… the rest of my body had basically cramped up. My hips and legs were pretty tight and I still had 9.2 more miles to run. So that wasn't ideal. I decided to just try to make it to mile 18 and see how I felt at that point. Danny and some friends were at 18 cheering me on. Their energy propelled me forward. Though still in pain at 18, I pushed for 19. At 20, I had already run 20 miles, so 6 more didn’t seem like too much. Over and over I kept telling myself I could do it. I could make it. In a little while it would all be over. It would be worth the pain in the end. Also I was wondering why on earth I enjoy torturing myself.
          At 22 my body was simply done. My back was throbbing and my hips were on fire. But besides that, everything else was numb. My legs were like led, heavy and hard to move. I just wanted the whole thing to be over so bad. I really didn’t believe that I could run 4.2 more miles. I had to keep saying to myself, “keep going forward. Don’t stop now.” I never knew how good of a cheerleader I could be for myself. There was a crippling incline on a bridge during the last mile of the race. That seemed cruel. And highly unfortunate. Someone definitely could have planned that out better. I cried out of pain and thrust myself forward and upward on the incline. Of course there was no way I could quit now when I could see the finish line ahead. I didn’t think I could possibly make my body go forward anymore.

         A man had been running near me throughout the race. He continued to wear a Big Bird colored yellow poncho even though the rain had ended quite a while ago. He hawked some major loogies several times that day—luckily I cleared myself of his path. I was astounded at the capacity of his loogie hawking ability seeing as how the volume on my Ipod was considerably turned up as loud as it could go. The guys pace was insane. He would run past me, slow down, I would pass him, he would cough up snot from the back of his throat, pass me again, and that was the pattern for a good 15 miles. Curse my led legs for not being able to go any faster. About 50 yards away from the finish line, something inside me just snapped. I’d had enough loogie man interaction. I’d had enough back pain. I was tired of running! Without even thinking, my legs started sprinting. I don't know how they did it. I was in so much pain and yet numb enough to start sprinting. The finish line was so close. I finally lost the loogie man. I knew my legs wouldn’t last much longer. The last minute and a half of the marathon felt like a lifetime. With the finish line in sight, I heard the roaring crowd and acknowledged the presence of friends and family there rooting for me. I knew my body had literally given all that it could in that performance. My face scrunched up as if to cry, but was too dehydrated.  So I mostly just had a wrinkled up face with lots of salt on it that looks funny in all my pictures. As I crossed the finish line, my legs collapsed out from underneath me and I fell into the arms of a nice old man who carried me to the medical tent. The crowd continued to cheer. Everyone loves an emotional ending.  I was trapped on a bed in the medical tent while the marathon staff harassed me with question after question on how I was feeling and what was wrong and could I move certain parts of my body. I just wanted to get up and be able to talk with my friends and family. I mumbled a few answers and touched my face and realized it was soaked with snot, tears, and salt. I was embarrassed and had nothing to wipe it with. After the staff finished stretching me out, feeding me, and making me choke down some nasty electrolyte drink, I was able to get up. It was still difficult to stand, but I was definitely able to.
          Crossing the finish line made me remember why I love torturing myself. I cannot explain just how high a runner’s high is after a race like that. All the physical and mental pain that was relentless throughout the race seemed small as I leapt across the finish line and landed in that poor old man’s arms. I had given literally everything inside me. I knew I could not have pushed myself an ounce harder. Nothing is more rewarding than that. Danny literally had to pick me up to put me inside our giant black jeep because I could not lift my legs on the way home. The race taught me one of the greatest lessons; to really put my whole heart in the things I do and always give my best.

By the way, I beat my previous marathon time by 28 minutes and 13 seconds.

The Best Day in History

9/14/1984 aka the day my favorite person was born:

He's just the greatest. And he's 26!

Snatchin Yo People Up

Last night was a night just like any other. We came home from school around 8, whipped up some dinner, kicked off the ole shoes. Hung out, you know, that whole bit. We went to bed around midnight. Nothing really out of the ordinary.

Just as I was slipping away into a gorgeous sleep, I was rudely interrupted by a pounding at our front door.

Danny hopped out of bed to answer the door.

"Danny! Don't get it! If it was one of our friends they would have texted or called."
"Yeah I guess thats true..."

It felt like my heart and stomach had switched places. My head was spinning and my hands were shaking. I had approximately one million thoughts all at once. Should I press the panic button on our car key fob? Should we hide under the bed? Should we sneak out of our back window? Should we call the cops?

...[another spine chilling rapping on the door]

Danny peaked out of our bedroom window. He quickly flipped on our bedroom light (so much for slumber) "Danny! Don't!"

His face looked weird... he looked concerned and determined to answer the door. And he was not using his words. What the freak did he just see?

I hobbled out of bed after him. He was going to get killed and I was going to get raped. I just knew it. So I threw on an extra layer of clothes and grabbed our shovel that was located conveniently in the hall way on the way to the door. I wasn't going down without a fight.

To my wonderment, on our small porch, there stood the fuzzy fuzz covered in big bullet proof vests with big cargo pants and all tricked out in black. And as Danny so perfectly put it "They were sure packin heat." And lots of it.

I looked at Danny. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

They asked for a lady named Tanya and said that this was suppose to be her address. They asked us a few more questions and then showed us her picture to make sure we didn't recognize her, which we didn't, thankfully. But her picture was scary. She looked like a bad lady. We explained that in the past couple of months that we've lived here, we have had some total weirdos coming to our door, but that we didn't know the people who lived here before us.

Boy, we sure know how to choose places of residence. Our last house we shared with a schizophrenic. We recently found out that in our neighborhood our house is termed "The Kidnaps" because of a kid-napper that lived here. No wonder we got such a good deal.

So, hide yo kids, hide yo wife, and hide yo husband...

Happy Frappy

Oh summer. Why do you have to go?  I am determined to hold on to you as long as I can. Usually I get at least kind of excited for the fall, just for the change. This year however, not so! Summer just seemed so short. So I made a couple of lists to help myself feel better.

Things I will miss about summer:
- being warm
- being tan
- Lake Powell
- boating
- hiking
- the sun coming up at like 6am and setting at like 10pm
- fro yo
- swimming
- having the top off of the jeep
- running outside without having to wear a million layers of clothes
- wearing sandals
- leaving my swimsuit on all day
- warm nights
- long boarding
- biking
- burning my feet when i run outside to get the mail barefoot
- being barefoot

Things I will be excited about for fall:
- pretty leaves
- crisp autumn air
- dressing up for halloween
- foozball
- getting ready for Christmas
- finishing my last class of my undergrad! (a lot of people go to school for 7 years. Yeah. They're called doctors)
- Thanksgiving break
- hay rides
- haunted houses

I think I just made myself more depressed.
Maybe in January I'll be here instead:

Yes. That made me feel better.
I can have a good attitude about fall now.

Another Goodie

Danny is so lucky

No More Losing Keys

I made a key holder! Hooray!

Our House, in the middle of the street

Some of our new place... come overrrr!

Delish-us!

I am like the worst cook ever. Not really that I am the worst... i just hate cooking. Unless me and Danny do it together and then it can be fun. But most of the time it is just like a chore and i wish we could just eat cafe rio every night.

That being said, I would like to take this time to introduce to you my very own creation that I made last night which was mega tasty. It was used from a bunch of ingredients we just had around the house.


Stuffing:
2 scoops of Ricotta Cheese
2-3 oz Feta Cheese
2-3 oz Mozzarella Cheese
3-4 diced mushrooms
1/2 diced tomato
1/4 diced onion
S & P & Garlic Powder to taste
1/4 ish C of Milk
1 big table spoon sour cream

4 Chicken Breasts
Pesto


1. Saute the mushrooms, onions, and tomato
2. Add milk, sourcream, cheeses
3. Add garlic powder, S & P

Pour the mix into a baking dish (i used an 8x8)
Place 4 chicken breasts on top
Cover the chicken breasts with pesto (i used prego's sun dried tomato kind but im sure anything will do)
Cover with foil
Bake for 20-30 minutes
Sprinkle with Mozzarella cheese and enjoyyyy.

Danny ate his with noodles. I had mine plain. Both were grand.

June

A few pics of what we've been up to this month: 1) ZNP w/ old pals

2) Dannys little bro came home from his mission! No pics unfortunately.

3) Eppppic Lake Powell Trip including tie dye t's

4)Mona rope swing with new palsnotice anything weird about that pic?

That is a creeper boy who swam all around the Burraston ponds with moss on his head whilst we were at the rope swing. He talked to no one and stared a lot. Here is what he actually looks like:

So.. maybe consider not taking your little kids there. Just sayin.

We've been having tonsss of fun this summer with our families, old pals, and some couples in our new ward.

Cheers to Summer 2010.