It’s the big Three-Ohhh for him! Which I shouldn’t make too much fun of since he’s still young and I’m not all that far behind him. I hope Jeff has a great day! He’s the best husband ever!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
I am woman, hear me roar!
I did it! I biked 40 miles at the MS 150! And I must say, I did pretty well. I wasn't at the front of the pack or anything like that, but considering that prior to training for this ride I had only been on a bike maybe three times in the last ten years... I think I did rather well and finished in pretty decent time. My goal going into it was not to end up in the SAG'n Wagon, which picks up anyone who has crashed or can't go any further- and I totally didn't need them and really did rather well on top of that! If it sounds like I'm ring'n my bell, I am, because I did it, and it was an awesome feeling coming across that finish line. Apparently I started sweating like sponge at pedal one because I ended up with a steady stream of sunblock in my eyes, leaving my eyes stinging and crying for the first 5 miles. Thankfully there was a line of bikers in front of me with neon jerseys so I could just follow the brightly colored blurs. One of my coworkers, Mark, rode with me just about the entire time which really helped; it was like having my own personal cheering squad going up the hills and it helped the time pass quickly to pedal and chat. Yes, believe it or not, I can bike and talk at the same time. Just don't ask me to chew gum too. Anyhow, it was a fabulous ride and I live to tell the tale. My body is tired and a bit achy, but I haven't been too sore at all. The scenery was beautiful, the weather was reasonable, and now I can brag that I've been to Newton, Utah. You're jealous I know.
This is my coworker Tracy and her hilarious son Wolfie. They made the trek up just to cheer for us at the finish line! It was awesome! There were tons of people at the finish line cheering and yelling, telling us we did a great job and thanking us for riding. It almost made me emotional to have all this going on, realize what I had just done, and the cause that all of this was going to help.
This is sweaty, disgusting, but very satisfied me and my friend Camille at the end of the race. The additional cheesy look in our grins is probably part delirium and part anticipation that now we get to end our droughts from Dr. Pepper (for me) and Diet Coke (for her).
A big THANK YOU to everyone who supported me. Next year I'll be hitting you all up to come ride with me!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Close enough?
If you know that people are going to stop by your house, and you don't have either the time or ambition to clean, does it work to just leave out some cleaning supplies, maybe a vacuum or cleaner, as if to say, "Oh! You just caught me in the middle of cleaning the house and buffing my walls"...
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Did I say Nazi?
At church, groups take turns doing a Sunday Sacrament Service for the rest home in our neighborhood. It had come to the time where my young women were to do the program; prayers, speakers, musical number. My young women do not enjoy doing these things to begin with and it was made worse by the fact that it involved “old people.” They are freaked out by old people; healthy, sick, small, boisterous, jolly… it doesn’t matter. If the people are over the age of about 75-80, my girls can’t stand them. Knowing they would be less than thrilled, the conversation went something like this:
R: “Okay girls, we’re in charge of the Sunday Sacrament Meeting for the rest home. We need VOLUNTEERS to help”
YW: whine, complain, “we did that last year”, moan, moan, moan, “old people,” whine, “gross,” grumble, grumble, “I spoke in church at Christmas”, blah, blah, blah, “not it”…
R: “We can do this one of three ways. You can sweetly volunteer to do what you want to do. You can take the chance and draw a card from my hand that will say what you will do. Or I can go all Nazi on you and dictate what each of you will do.”
I suddenly realize I am sitting next to our German foreign exchange student.
R: “Oh, um, what I meant is you that won’t have a choice and I’ll just tell you what to do.”
YW: “Yea, go Nazi on us! If we don’t do what you say will you put us in a gas chamber?”
The foreign exchange student’s face turns red and gives me a well-deserved scowl.
R: “I shouldn’t have said that… what I mean is…”
YW: “I like the Nazi way! Are you going to kill our families, starve us…”
Yes, this would be one of those times at church when varied and inappropriate curses run through your mind…
R: “Okay girls, we’re in charge of the Sunday Sacrament Meeting for the rest home. We need VOLUNTEERS to help”
YW: whine, complain, “we did that last year”, moan, moan, moan, “old people,” whine, “gross,” grumble, grumble, “I spoke in church at Christmas”, blah, blah, blah, “not it”…
R: “We can do this one of three ways. You can sweetly volunteer to do what you want to do. You can take the chance and draw a card from my hand that will say what you will do. Or I can go all Nazi on you and dictate what each of you will do.”
I suddenly realize I am sitting next to our German foreign exchange student.
R: “Oh, um, what I meant is you that won’t have a choice and I’ll just tell you what to do.”
YW: “Yea, go Nazi on us! If we don’t do what you say will you put us in a gas chamber?”
The foreign exchange student’s face turns red and gives me a well-deserved scowl.
R: “I shouldn’t have said that… what I mean is…”
YW: “I like the Nazi way! Are you going to kill our families, starve us…”
Yes, this would be one of those times at church when varied and inappropriate curses run through your mind…
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Damn Feline
I’m not talking about my cat, but rather an unknown neighborhood cat that commits its heinous doings under the veil of darkness.
To back up, yesterday I got a ton of starts and plants from my neighbor to plant in my front yard. Given that we’ve been focusing on the back yard, the front was starting to look like a pathetic wasteland that would be used in a public service announcement about serving your poor elderly neighbor… Oh wait, my yard was already used for that earlier this year. (Stay tuned to a commercial break near you.)
Anyhow, I was digging in the front yard last night until after dark. I wasn’t able to get all of the plants from my neighbor in the ground and had to temporarily put them in big containers until I could plant them this morning. So I got up early today and was planting along and a few plants in, I caught the unmistakable smell of cat feces. I figured I had dug into an area where a cat had made a deposit, grimaced and continued on- silly cat. Then I realized as I was planting the next few plants that those stunk like cat pee too. All of the plants in two of the large pots, which smelled like flowers last night, now emit cat pee! A cat sprayed my plants last night! And this left me, gagging and planting pee-tainted plants! Did I mention that I opted not to wear gloves this morning? Yep... damn feline.
To back up, yesterday I got a ton of starts and plants from my neighbor to plant in my front yard. Given that we’ve been focusing on the back yard, the front was starting to look like a pathetic wasteland that would be used in a public service announcement about serving your poor elderly neighbor… Oh wait, my yard was already used for that earlier this year. (Stay tuned to a commercial break near you.)
Anyhow, I was digging in the front yard last night until after dark. I wasn’t able to get all of the plants from my neighbor in the ground and had to temporarily put them in big containers until I could plant them this morning. So I got up early today and was planting along and a few plants in, I caught the unmistakable smell of cat feces. I figured I had dug into an area where a cat had made a deposit, grimaced and continued on- silly cat. Then I realized as I was planting the next few plants that those stunk like cat pee too. All of the plants in two of the large pots, which smelled like flowers last night, now emit cat pee! A cat sprayed my plants last night! And this left me, gagging and planting pee-tainted plants! Did I mention that I opted not to wear gloves this morning? Yep... damn feline.
Friday, May 30, 2008
My time to beg
As I mentioned, I'm training for the MS 150 Best Dam Bike Ride. For it, my team, the Flying Spokes, is raising money that will go to Multiple Sclerosis research. (Check out the team logo!) In Utah, 1 in 500 people are diagnosed with MS, in comparison to 1 in 10,000 in Texas. Since I'm still emotionally scarred from the door-to-door soliciting bit for the Jump-a-Thon when I was 9, this is my non-pressure way of begging for money. If you would like to support the cause, click on the link below where you can donate online. It allows you to enter any amount you would like. I would really appreciate your support!
Monday, May 26, 2008
How are you?
So as previously mentioned, and as can be seen by my lack of posts, it's been a bit busy here. No time to even ride the scooter--- A sin, I know. But I really shouldn't complain about it, because really, who isn't busy?
My dad has always been bothered by Americans and how we throw around the phrase, "How are you?" On the phone, on the street, with sales people, everyone asks how you are doing. But his complaint comes with the fact that really, no one cares. Asking is routine and hardly anyone waits or cares to hear the honest answer of "how you are." My dad's friend Henk, from the Netherlands, also noticed this about Americans and asked my dad about it. Henk and my dad both agreed that Americans are rude and phony. (Wow, dutch people thinking Americans are rude... that's a joke right there.) But in all seriousness, I don't think it is really such a bad thing to edit out the details with a quick, "good" or "fine."
A coworker who's desk is near mine at work should learn to be a bit less honest and rely on a simple "fine, thanks." Doesn't he know that no one cares? As he speaks on the phone everyday, I get to hear repeatedly about his shoulder surgery, his slacker kids dropping out of high school or his long night in bathroom... I'll spare you the gory details. I don't need to hear this, and my guess is that the person on the other end of the line wasn't interested either. Too much information.
But the reoccurring answer from my coworker that drives me up the wall is, "I'm up to my elbows in alligators." Then a few months ago apparently everything must have gotten worse because now he's "Up to his eyebrows in alligators." What!?! Alligators? What is that even supposed to mean? If anything, it makes me think he has too much time on his hands if he can make up ridiculous little gems like that. Apparently it all comes down to alligators? It just takes me back to something my mom used to tell me: "Don't go around telling people your problems; half of the people won't care and the other half will think you got what you had coming to you." In applying this to Mr. Alligator... I'm pretty sure we'd all fall in the same camp, rule out his old-man humor, and be perfectly happy with a simple, "I'm fine."
My dad has always been bothered by Americans and how we throw around the phrase, "How are you?" On the phone, on the street, with sales people, everyone asks how you are doing. But his complaint comes with the fact that really, no one cares. Asking is routine and hardly anyone waits or cares to hear the honest answer of "how you are." My dad's friend Henk, from the Netherlands, also noticed this about Americans and asked my dad about it. Henk and my dad both agreed that Americans are rude and phony. (Wow, dutch people thinking Americans are rude... that's a joke right there.) But in all seriousness, I don't think it is really such a bad thing to edit out the details with a quick, "good" or "fine."
A coworker who's desk is near mine at work should learn to be a bit less honest and rely on a simple "fine, thanks." Doesn't he know that no one cares? As he speaks on the phone everyday, I get to hear repeatedly about his shoulder surgery, his slacker kids dropping out of high school or his long night in bathroom... I'll spare you the gory details. I don't need to hear this, and my guess is that the person on the other end of the line wasn't interested either. Too much information.
But the reoccurring answer from my coworker that drives me up the wall is, "I'm up to my elbows in alligators." Then a few months ago apparently everything must have gotten worse because now he's "Up to his eyebrows in alligators." What!?! Alligators? What is that even supposed to mean? If anything, it makes me think he has too much time on his hands if he can make up ridiculous little gems like that. Apparently it all comes down to alligators? It just takes me back to something my mom used to tell me: "Don't go around telling people your problems; half of the people won't care and the other half will think you got what you had coming to you." In applying this to Mr. Alligator... I'm pretty sure we'd all fall in the same camp, rule out his old-man humor, and be perfectly happy with a simple, "I'm fine."
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