oh i see

sometimes i just want to blog

2010-10-23T11:00:00.003-06:00

about this cake. which i will one day own and eat.

even if it means proposing to a stranger on the street. i must have it.

always be prepared

2010-05-27T22:36:00.002-06:00

I cleaned my parents' basement today and sorted our food storage. It took about 23 seconds.

We have:
3 containers of dish soap
1 (small) box of baking powder
2 jars of 4 year old Noni Juice
2 liters of Sprite

Sorry to out you mom, but people should know we are the go-to spot when Armageddon hits.

Oh and....

2010-05-14T23:42:00.003-06:00

I forgot the part of the run home when I was attacked by 2 giant dogs who's owner just let them have at me. I think it added a little something special to the story and my life.

turning crime into art

2010-05-13T21:33:00.013-06:00

I almost bought pepper spray today. I like to trust humans as a general rule, but you just never know what could happen... which is the precise reason I decided to stop going on runs with a creme brulee torch as a weapon. I set out tonight (while it was still light out) and ran to Big Lots (don't you dare judge me) where I whispered (twice) to an employee, enquiring if they had any pepper spray. I didn't want any weirdos to become aware of my lack of ammunition. We found some. It was $10. Seeing as how I've never been a mace purchaser I was not ready for this. So I set off into the pits of the store to find something else I could use as a weapon. Three minutes later I came upon this:

It is what is know in some cultures as a three-foot long, glass vase. And I could totally take some creeper out with it. Also, it was $3. So, I made my purchase, and headed back out to finish my jog. One Lady GaGa song later, I came upon these:

which took my embarrassingly labored breath away and which also may or may not have been growing in a stranger's yard. In my defense, it was a disaster zone. Unkempt to the utmost degree. And in all honesty, and at least 50% probability, these were weeds, because a) there were a million of them and b) when I pulled them out of the ground they were attached to what looked like giant onions. (Please don't comment and say, "Um, they're called bulbs" because, "Um... I don't really even know what that means.") As people with furrowed brows passed by and as I checked the lit windows of the residence I was felonizing for signs of life, I tested out some excuses in case I was caught, such as "You're welcome for weeding your lawn for you" and "Que? No hablo...me no speaking the English. Ole." Things got tricky when I tried to break off the onion-bulbs from the base of the stems. They were not cooperative. So using my God-given resourcefulness I bit them off one by one, again, just waving to passers by as if this is how I weed "my" lawn all the time. I then ran home with the satisfaction one can only get from committing a crime and getting away with it. Me and O.J...we get it.

I'm aware it's a bag

2010-05-12T22:43:00.007-06:00

BUT... every morning when I wake up I think, "Wait, let's snooze a couple of times (8-12)," and then when my snooze goes off for the last time (5 pm-ish) I think to myself, "I want to paint my car like this one. Then I remember how I also sometimes like to pretend I'm a spy and how us spies are slaves to our anonymity and how this may or may not cause problems with being caught. Sigh. Also, I would like this bag please. And what the hoo-ha... let's throw being British in there as well.

Happy Momma's Day

2010-05-10T11:11:00.006-06:00

Ahoy. Dear people who don't read this blog anymore due to my somewhat *cough* lack of diligence in the past 14 *cough* months...? Apologies. I know you aren't coming back, but that is in fact fine news and here is why. Hmmm...hold please. I must start at the beginning.

My mom told me to start blogging again. Seeing as how I am the perfect child and always do what my mother tells me, I naturally started penciling it into my schedule, but it's a tight fit with the naps and 30 Rock obsession. Still, I go to great lengths for that woman.

Our transcript reads as follows:

Mom: Start blogging again.

Kristen: No.

Mom: Please.

Kristen: No.

Mom: Why?

Kristen: Because the whole world started blogging and I feel pressure to read everyone's blogs and due to the all or nothing brain you gave me I have to choose nothing.

Mom: Really? That's why?

Kristen: Isn't that a good enough reason?

Mom: ....awkward silence....

Kristen: Also I spent most of the day talking to myself in my head (and occasionally slash accidentally out loud) deciding how best to write about what I was doing instead of just enjoying it.

Mom: You should blog.

So... I'm back. But not for you... sorry. Hold please. Does that sound cocky? Unintentional. I'm just back for me and my thoughts and my momma. Cause I love love la-hooove her ducks.

The End. For hopefully not very long.

reasonings

2009-01-28T01:53:00.003-07:00

W ork

H ot boy
Y esterday’s house fire (small, but significant)

I mmuno defficiencies (flu)

A rrested development addiction
M oving bedrooms

O ccasional exercise
N aps

B each vacation
L aziness
O ne or four weddings
G randma time

H ouse full of entertaining roommates
I lied about the hot boy
A small "trip" down my stairs and through my bedroom wall
T axes
U nreliable (meaning non-existent) internet situation
S chool

it's a true story kids

2008-12-17T01:57:00.006-07:00

When I was a senior in high school I took a sewing class...no doubt to fill one of those purposeless artsy credit requirements set up by school board directors nationwide in an attempt to "well-roundify" their student populations. Do pardon me, but if a human does not wish to be an artist, the artwork you force he or she to produce will only inflict (perhaps significant) damage upon the other, (perhaps more agreeable) inhabitants of the planet. But this is neither here nor there.

When I was a senior in high school I took a sewing class. I was assigned a machine station betwixt two lovely girls of latin decent. (Allow me to interject that I have absolutely nothing against hispanic culture nor it's community members. I love them. Almost all of them.)
On my right sat Katrina, on my left Anna. (Names have been changed for protection. Even though they don't deserve it.) Throughout an entire semester these two "chicas" spent every B3 period making fun of me in their native tongue of Espanol. "Oh my gosh...this girl sucks at sewing." "Are those the same jeans she wore last week?" "Ay Caramba! Esta muchacha no puedo aser nada! Ole!" etc. etc. All very biting comments as you can see. I bode my time as patiently as an emperor penguin in Artarctica during the 4 bitter winter months it spends fighting for not only his own life, but the life of it's soon to be infant emperor penguin, as the mother leaves to find food and stuff herself silly on a variety of fish so that after making the months long trek back to her little family she can regurgitate said fish into her new infants mouth and save it from starvation, thus forming a truly secure mother-child bond. That patiently.
During the last week of the term Katrina turned to Anna and asked her in Spanish, "Anna, when is our portfolio due?" I turned to her calmly and said, "Next Thursday." I then proceeded to shrug my shoulders, smile slightly to myself and send a quick silent thank you into the sky to all of my former Spanish Immersion teachers. Love you Sra. Ware.
The looks on their faces were oh so priceless, and not unlike the look J.D. so frequently dons after Dr. Cox calls him Shirley and puts him in his place with an incandescent rant. Sigh.

Also perhaps not unlike the face you now wear after reading this post. My best to you.
In summary... I still think I want to be a spy when I grow up. I'd be radder than rad at spying. I'm so good at being patient and lying. And also staying on task without straying through useless tangents.

i'm a billionaire...almost a lot of times

2008-11-09T22:58:00.008-07:00

I would be the most awesome inventor if people would just stop coming up with my ideas before me.

Example number one: Three years ago during a swimming phase I went through, I decided that if runners got music, I deserved some too. This spawned my endeavor to invent the underwater ipod. Unfortunately, some turd beat me to it. (uh...*whisper* but thank you for my underwater ipod).

Example number two: Today I was sitting here in deep thought when all of the sudden brilliance struck me once again. "Hey!" I proclaimed, "Wouldn't it be rad to hang a fishbowl on the wall?! And stick a real fish in it?!" Guess what?....
*Sigh* Jerks. But I still want one. Although, do you think this fish lives in a constant state of terror/confusion?

Not to flatter myself, well actually...that is the reason I wrote the post....so yes, in order to flatter myself, I will simply tell you that these examples of things I invented without due credit could go on all night. Color isolation on cameras...floating trampolines... internet on phones... cake flavored ice cream (which certainly sits at the top of the list)...zip on-zip off shorts/pants (not so proud of that one)... were all thought up by the brain of yours truly. Just not at the opportune moment.

I will have you all know, however, that the armpit-lawnmower-sprinkler-face dance move remains a Kristen Muirhead original. Well, I may or may not have had a little help from Vanessa....the 5 year-old.

uno, dos, tres...etc.

2008-11-09T03:51:00.018-07:00

I have 4 very important orders of business to discuss.

1. I hate showering, this is a well known fact. I REALLY REALLY hate it, I'm talking to a loathing degree. But want to know what I hate even more? I knew you would. It's washing my hair. All truth must be confessed at some point, why not now? So, there you have it. The reasons why I commonly reek of and asian food and oil (please avoid being misled and make sure to separate those two. Asian Food. Oil. Not Asian Food and Asian Oil).
2. You know the song "Chasing Pavements" by a one Adele? It has very recently come to my attention that this bit of music is not in fact entitled "Chasing Penguins"... ahem.... And all this time I just thought the laughter from others, whilst I sang along came from the common mocking of such a ridiculous notion. Now I can see the unfortunateness in my all too common response of "I know! What a crazy song! They must be running out of ideas...penguins....pah! (yes I 'pah!' quite frequently)." And let's be truthful, if it really came down to just giving up or chasing penguins, the choice is obvious, no? Need we sing about it?
3. After watching V for Vendetta last night I think it is safe to say that if the need should ever arise for me to have a girl crush it would most definitely have to be on Natalie Portman. Here's to your brilliance. And baldness.
4. My mother is conspiring to start a blog for the sole purpose of posting humiliating quotes which seem to escape my mouth multiple times a day. Boycott this with a vengeance.

dear criminal

2008-10-27T21:51:00.016-06:00

Yes, this is coming late. I am aware of my behind the times-ness, okay?

I would like to personally thank whomever the human being was who finally said, "Down with this madness!" and released the draft of the final book in the Twilight series and saved the world from it's own stupidity and yet another literature calamity of epic proportions. Bless your soul forever and ever and may the sun shine down upon you in all the days to come. I can truly say with full conviction that you do not suck.

And speaking of literature and things that don't suck.... (weird, what are the odds that would work so well here?).... go to your nearest bookstore/library and buy/borrow THE FOUNTAINHEAD. It's by Ayn Rand and....(hmm, how weird and fortuitous)....she also doesn't suck.

mysteries unfolded...finally

2008-10-22T17:21:00.006-06:00

I played with Mer's boys again for a little bit today. This was a highlight from craft time:

Cam (age 5): Kai, don't eat those purple beads or you'll turn purple!
Kai (age 3): What?
Cam: I'm just teasin' ya. But seriously Kai, don't eat the brown ones.
Kai: Why?
Cam: Cause you'll turn brown. I don't know how exactly it happens, but I've seen brown people before.

and it was love

2008-10-06T10:34:00.003-06:00

Next time I find a 15,000 dollar bill on the ground,

I know exactly what I'll be purchasing.

confessions of a puddle jumper

2008-10-03T14:51:00.003-06:00

Today is the best day of my life. Want to know why? Because I am a girl, and today is the day I discovered that Target sells 98 different kinds of rain boots. Ahoy!

um...yum

2008-09-26T01:43:00.004-06:00

Guess what I ate for breakfast AND lunch AND dinner today?

That's right, my new favorite food.

feel the burn

2008-09-23T22:59:00.010-06:00

Remember in high school chemistry how you use to dare each other to find out what it's like to use that weird yellow thing in the corner? The one that looked like this?:

Well, today was my lucky day. And by lucky I of course mean that someone ran into me at work whilst I carried a large tray of chili paste, and said paste of chili did greet my left eyeball with a vengeance. Another day, another harder than I'd originally anticipated-earned dollar.

On a brighter note, this experience was far less painful than the one where I ate a chili pod during training while answering the question "What should you always tell guests about Kung Pao Chicken?" with "Never eat the chili pods, unless you wish to find out what it is like to rue the day you were born." I now know what it is like to be on fire. Almost literally.

my favorite season

2008-09-22T23:49:00.008-06:00

Autumn.

It's the first day of Autumn.

I walk alone through the park today.

Crisp. Cool.

Inhale.

Bright. Warm.

Exhale.

Sun rays dance on my skin.

Green. Blue. Red. Yellow.

Intensity.

Have I seen color before?

A moment worth a thousand pictures.

A breeze kisses my face.

Laughter tickles my ears.

Roller blades, soccer balls, picnics.

Trees meet high above,

linking arms across my path.

Shade. Pond. Geese. Hills.

I smell, I see, I feel, I am.

The perfect day...

I finally found you.

but for everything else...

2008-09-21T00:11:00.018-06:00

Gorgeous Red Grandma Shoes: $5.00
10 Pack Colored Play-Doh: $3.00
"Chuck Norris Beat the Sun in a Staring Contest" folder: $.50

Yet Another Successful Wal-Mart Venture: Priceless

on my mind

2008-09-17T22:05:00.008-06:00

1. The Carpool Lane: I have decided it is my new calling in life to teach Utahns the definition of a carpool lane and how to use one. I'll break it down for you... Double white line equals A WALL. You cannot drive through A WALL people.

2. Newscasters: Do they really need to come up with such clever links between two stories which are so blatantly obvious in their unrelatedness? "Dog owners around the country say they will make their voices heard by filing petitions." "Thanks Joanne. And speaking of filing things, a local nail salon was robbed today in West Valley." Can't they just say, "In other news, which has nothing to do with my previous sentence..."

3. School: If you decide one day to open up a college and you invite people to come and gain knowledge, let me go ahead and give you a heads up. If you try to shove 60 full grown humans into a dance studio and teach them some moves, or teach fine arts in an auditorium, your students will most likely throw their hands up and leave your school. Also, if you hire teachers which use words such as &,#, and $% when addressing one your students in front of a class and then send said student home early from class, that student may or may not use choice language back at previously mentioned teacher and again....quit school.

4. My Roommates: When one considers the prospect of living with two 18 year old freshmen in a 3/4 size studio apartment with 1 less bed than would normally be considered appropriate, one's spirits might seem a bit dampened. Not so for me I must say. I thought I hit the jackpot with roommate number one, but then roommate number two moved in and I think we might have to end up getting a triangle marriage or something equally vulgar and disturbing. I am in LOVE. Perhaps an excerpt from this week will help you love them too: I am walking through the toilet area (having no doors or shower curtain... I can't in good faith or technically call it a "bathroom") to go get in the rinse off station (seeing as how the water pressure is equivalent to a backyard drinking fountain's I can't in good faith or technically call it a "shower") and as I pass Courtney, she pulls down my pants. She laughs her face red and through fits of giggles spits out, "Oh my gosh... how embarrassing! I hate getting pantsed! Ha-ha!" I calmly pull up my knickers, turn to face her and say, "I believe you have forgotten that you are the one naked on the toilet right now." Yes, the number of inhibitions in our household has reached the negative digits.

5. Life: Yeah, I think I'm gonna go ahead and skip over this part.

6. The Up and Coming Presidential Election: I'm writing in Gob Bluth.

7. 3D Sidewalk Chalk. A-MaaaaaaZING!!
8. P.F. Changs: It's my new job. It is in the contract I signed that I am allowed to blog about the restaurant, on the sole premise that I first inform my readers that what they are about to hear is strictly personal opinion and does not reflect the views of the China Bistro in question. So, I would like to inform you, dear readers, that what I am about to write is strictly my own personal opinion and does not reflect the views of P.F. Changs. Well, actually I already said what I wanted to say, which was to simply to inform you that it was in deed in my contract that I couldn't blog about work, unless it came with a disclaimer. Oh! Wait, I do have one more thing to say here. Yesterday at work my trainer was giving me a test at the end of my shift. Question 6 was "Why is it important to know if customers are deathly allergic to certain ingredients?" My answer: "To protect the customer from illness and death and to insure they have a pleasurable experience. Also to protect the restaurant from legal issues." Trainer: "Close. But the main reason is that a P.F. Changs customer that is dead, is no longer a P.F. Changs customer. And we can't lose customers." I laughed. No one else did. It was not a joke.

9. And speaking of jokes, I am not going to finish this post now. Ba ha ha! Just kidding! Jokes on you!

dear readers

2008-09-05T00:24:00.002-06:00

A young, teenybopping pre-teen has decided to engage in a battle of sorts with your faithful author, me. Well...semi-faithful as of late. Anyway, I would simply like to preface the devastating announcement below with a disclaimer informing you that what is about to be revealed is purely a response to already fired shots. I act in pure self--defense.

Anyone remember Muirhead Survivor? Well take a good look into this eye:
That's right, take a deep gander into that deceitful little eye because it is full of LIES. You my dear friends, are looking at a cheater pants, and it's name is Michelle 'pockets full of chocolate chips and crackers' Muirhead. Oh the injustice in the world.

Dear M: I'm on to you child. And don't say I didn't warn you about the brutality of war.

i'm awesome? what?

2008-08-31T20:18:00.005-06:00

Okay children. Go outside and look to the east. There is a mountain there. I'm pretty sure that it is in fact the largest mountain in the world. See it? Yeah, mmm-hmmm. That would be the mountain I did summit two days ago. And it's name is Timpanogos.

To summarize an eventful event, I'll leave it at this: 7 hours, 20 miles, 1 sunrise, 31 degrees, 4 naughty words, 40 mile per hour winds, 28 swedish fish, 2 snuggles, and 1 possible mountain top public pant changing, and a goal from my top 10 list is reached. And that's that.

Here's a photo I found on google of some random guy at the summit shack:
You're welcome, by the way.

oh woe is me

2008-08-23T15:35:00.011-06:00

This past week I've found myself in a state of depression not unlike the one I encounter during a good J.K. Rowling read. Allow an explanation. Harry Potter minus the almost unbearable writing equals all my dreams come true. There is nothing I would love more than to go to Hogwarts. This deep-rooted desire leaves me standing (barely) with a short-end-of-the-stick feeling at my horrible luck of being a muggle. (And just so you know, you people thinking I've lost it...I know for a fact I'm not alone here...Shannon came home in tears from the first Pirates movie because she could not be a scallywag.)

Here are the reasonings behind this particular installment of Sulk Yourself Silly: The Olympics...namely women's (little girls'?) gymnastics. As I watched Shawn Johnson and Nastia Liukin fly through the air performing stunts that would make little circus runaways gape in envy, I could not help but do a little envious gaping myself. So here it is: I want to be an olypmic gymnast and I want a gold medal and I preferably want to do it in four years because I hear they're all going to London in 2012 and I really really like London. I know what you're thinking right now: "Kristen, of course you could be an olympic gymnast! Why are you sitting here on the computer when you could be at the gym training! Goodness, you are so silly!" But you have forgotten two small bits of information. One: I am a tall drink of water. Take the tallest gymnast to ever be an olympian (yes, I looked it up) then add about 6 inches of head. The result will be me. Two: I am no longer 4 years old (I know, shocking). And apparently that would be the age one must be taken from home and begin their training. and Three (so I'm adding one, get over it): I have no house to mortgage twice to pay for classes.

What to do? Sometimes it blows when you realize at age 21 that your hopes and dreams in life are to rewind 17 years. And also to be Chinese.

Anyway, Please contact me if:
A. You are an olympic gymnastics trainer and are looking for an adult prodigy at the beginning level.
B. You have a house I could borrow and mortgage.
C. You are selling shortening drugs (Illegal is fine).
D. You have found how to get to Hogwarts and are selfish and not sharing. It's time to spread the wealth amigo.

P.S. I know at least one person from each of these categories is reading this blog. Don't be a stranger. Come out of hiding.

hirariousness

2008-08-22T14:26:00.005-06:00

In honor of the Beijing Olympics I have decided to bring you a selection of my favorite Asian to English translations. Please consult engrish.com for more cachinnation opportunities.

a rude awakening

2008-08-17T15:17:00.008-06:00

Michelle (age 12) and I played a mean game of 20 questions last night. This particular round secured her win in the "Kristen's Favorite Human" competition:

Kristen: I'm thinking of a person.
Michelle: Are they dead?
Kristen: Yes
M: Were they a man?
K: Yes
M: Famous?
K: Yes
M: Politician?
K: Yes
M: President?
K: You are good at this game
M: Taft?
K: No
M: Van Buren?
K: No
M: Madison?
K: Are you guessing real presidents?
M: Polk? Harrison? Tyler? Fillmore? Buchanan? Adams? Johnson? Bush the First?
K: Seriously, are you kidding me?
M: Garfield? Grant? Hayes? Harrison? Cleveland?
K: I have no response to this.
M: Oh! Lincoln?
K: Yes, that would be the one.

What are they feeding 7th graders these days?

conversationing is not easiful

2008-08-17T15:08:00.005-06:00

A recent exchange of words I had whilst stopping to view a waterfall on a motorcycle trip:

Man at waterfall (seeing me in my "Click it or Ticket" get-up): What's your ride?
Me: I'm sorry?
Man: What's your ride?
Me: Um, I don't think I know what that means.
Man (sigh of annoyance): What are you guys riding?
Me (feeling proud of catching up to speed here): Oh! We're on motorcycles.
Man (with a look of "you are the dumbest human on this planet"): Yeah. I know that. Never mind.
Me: No, I'm sorry! I don't know what you mean. You mean what kind of motorcycles?
Man: Just forget about it kid.
Me: No! Um... We are on a two seater...It's black....Has some storage racks on the back....
Man (Starting to walk away): Seriously. Please just stop.
Me (yelling after him): I'm sorry! I"m so sorry!

Yours Truly,
The Dumbest Human on the Planet

to she who must not be named

2008-08-16T22:00:00.003-06:00

(you know who you are)

My DEEPEST of apologies for my total LACK of blogging as of late. You can add it to the list of things for which I owe you penance. And yes, one more thing. I LOVE LOVE LOVE you!

Love, Moi

(Please note that this is being put up two entire hours prior to midnight. Yes, I'm amazing.)

33

2008-07-31T23:20:00.005-06:00

That is the number of degrees (F) the river which I floated atop this afternoon contained. I have a lot to catch up on, but I'm not going to. My number one concern and order of business is to inform you that I was nearly drank (drunken?) by a real live moose today. And also that a strange boy jumped on my tube from a large river boulder. Whilst I was still on said tube. Goodnight.

not much...just some travels and the end of the world

2008-07-18T23:25:00.009-06:00

Apologies extended for the recent MIA activity. I am prone to absences...please ask any of my teachers grades 8 through 12. (Jared also loves to give the facts and figures). When I stop running around like a chicken with its head cut off, I hope to catch all 4 of you up on my recent trips through the (mid)west...yes including Mt. Rushmore (or "those old guys heads" to a certain 5 year-old) Anyway, it's not going to get much better seeing as how me and my homeless hair (it gets that way on the road) are off on a few more spontaneous get-aways. So suck it up and try your best to be brave and make it through a few more days without me. I know it's hard. Perhaps take up knitting.

In other news, birds 4 and 5 flew into our back window last week bringing the death toll to an all new high. Moses and the frogs comes to mind. Head on over to our house if you wish to witness the apocalypse.

Hmmm... I'm thinking I probably shouldn't say "chicken with its head cut off" at such a devastating and terrible time in the world of the fowl. How disrespectful.

happy first birthday blog!

2008-07-12T10:42:00.006-06:00

What a glorious year. I don't want anything more. 365 days. Don't they go by in a blink?

adios amigos!

2008-07-06T22:27:00.004-06:00

Well, I'm off for a few days of America touring on the back of my poppa's motorcycle. The iPod's charged...the Desitin's packed. We'll see you later crocodiles!

One last thing....I am reluctant to share with you how awesome I look in biking getup because I know how hard it can be to see someone in an amazing outfit and not a) covet it or b) hate them at least a little bit. But try your best and just be happy for me that great fortune has found its way to my doorstep. If you do, Andrew Thunderbolts just might let you off with a warning when she pulls you over. (it is hard to make out the attached helmet microphone in this particular shot...but oh it is there)

dear santa

2008-07-03T22:31:00.004-06:00

If I'm really really REALLY good for the rest of this year, and perhaps even apologize for the spaghetti incident... can I pleeeeeaaasssee(pretty pretty kind) have THIS for Christmas? And preferably a few months early...you know, in time for amphibious motorhomeboat season?

in loving memory

2008-06-24T13:47:00.020-06:00

What is up with the birds of this world? Or at least of our front yard? I mean come on!

CLICK HERE and let it play while returning to read this post.

It was a somber day at the Muirhead home. We did, unfortunately, lose another member of our avian family this afternoon. Well....(s)he wasn't so much our bird as (s)he was a bird. Mom spotted it outside the office window flopping around on the ground and I was sent to attempt a rescue. The poor thing shivered and twitched in my hands for a good ten minutes, and despite our valiant attempts at feeding and watering, and whispering magical spells into its ears, it kicked the can at 12:03 PM.

This is "Birdie" still alive.

This is Birdie dead.

Now we may be known for our lack of ability at keeping animals alive, but we certainly give them solemn farewells. Allow me to recount Birdie's funeral services for you, dear reader(s).

Birdie's casket, made custom by Champion Footwear.

How the girls felt about Birdie's tragic and untimely death.

The program for Birdie's funeral.

The pallbearers.

During the opening remarks.

We all said our final words to Birdie while sprinkling birdseed onto his/her grave and then Nichol graced us with an improvisational poem.

Birdie was buried as Michelle made up a very moving song on her violin. All in attendance were deeply touched.

Music brought to you by Kristen's iPod and Dewalt Power Tools.

Bye Bye Birdie. R.I.P.

In leui of flowers....please send candy.

p.s. I would not recommend digging graves today. It is much too sweltering out.

lazy sunday afternoon

2008-06-22T22:17:00.008-06:00

Just the girls at home tonight spending a pleasant low-key evening together porch swinging, neighborhood strolling, speed scrabble-ing, and sweet tunes listening. I'd have to say the highlights included:

A) Waking up from a nap to this on the carpet:

Yes, you are looking at the longest word in the English language spelled out with scrabble letters and silently discarded. Oh the life of a 12 year old.

B) This crepe, which bore a striking resemblance to a certain recently erected Russian statue and left us all in fits of giggles.

C) The rule I invented during our plastic bag service project called "you have to wear your mistakes," which left me (zero errors) in fits of giggles and left the other two senoritas (muchos errors) with dirty looks directed at me. Mom ended up with a hula skirt, necklace, scarf, and (my personal favorite) native headdress of the Incas. Michelle's first bag left her with an interchangeable beard/hair piece. I think they were starting to feel bad about my amazing talent at crafting perfect bags, so to raise their self-esteem I donned a lovely oxygen tank nose tube. Don't worry, I totally pulled it off.

Some days just can't be beat.

zheleznovodsk, sloppiness, and 42 grand

2008-06-21T16:36:00.006-06:00

Feed the homeless..... support more important causes.

Easy choice for the Russians.

I'll toast to that.

CLICK HERE for the best news you'll read all week.

(Thanks J.)

heather's helpers

2008-06-19T14:56:00.003-06:00

It looks like my amigo heather has been struck with a sudden desire to be charitable. (Dear h.b...by 'sudden' I of course mean 'has always been and will always be devoted to the welfare of the nations...')

Want to hop on the Do Some Good Train? If you are feeling extra bored or loving this week CLICK HERE and lend your beautifully manicured helping hands.

sneaky snakes are stupid

2008-06-18T11:22:00.009-06:00

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18 2008

12:02 AM: Kristen walks to shoe closet. Her contacts are drying, her feet ache, she is tie-urhd.
12:03 AM: Kristen kicks footwear into bottom shelf. Out slithers this:

12:04 AM: Kristen is reminded of recent encounters with snakes and is not anxious to repeat said occurences.
12:07 AM: Kristen has not moved even a smidgen in the last 4 minutes. Likewise for the snake.
12:09 AM: Chopsticks in hand (just in case), Kristen throws a roller blade at snake and hits it's tippie tail. Snake slithers forward.
12:09 and 3 seconds AM: Kristen is sitting on kitchen counter top nearly in tears eating off all of her fingernails. What to do?
12:14 AM: Kristen slowly makes her way back to the scene of the crime (please imagine Jack Skellington (from Nightmare Before Christmas) strut).
12:15 AM: Snake has not moved.
12:16 AM: Kristen finds that fishy. "Why haven't you moved?" she asks snake.
12:16 AM: Snake doesn't respond.
12:16-12:19 AM: Snake and Kristen face off in a staring war. Snake is very good.
12:19 AM: Kristen feels a moment of bravery coming on and hits snake on the head with a chopstick.
12:19 AM: Snake doesn't move. "It's a fake!" she yells in elation and then in disgruntlement. "It's a fake," she sighs.
12:20 AM: Kristen's heart rate has begun to make its way back down to normal as she stares into the heavens and curses toy makers around the globe. "You are the scum of the earth," she whispers to no one in particular. "Particularly those of you making moving snake toys," she particulates.
2:16 AM: Kristen lies awake in her bed. She is dreading dreams of slimy serpents.

ahoy there captain amazing

2008-06-17T23:27:00.008-06:00

Just in case I missed you on my mass email extravaganza. I'm pretty sure this man is a superhero incognito.

CLICK HERE

when will you people learn, I am never wrong.

2008-06-14T07:52:00.010-06:00

Here's an excerpt from a recent conversation I participated in:

Mom: "Dear favorite child, clean out the fountain."
Kristen: "No thank you. I didn't dirty it up."
Mom: "Remember last Tuesday when you invented that game called 'throw an entire bag of colored marshmallows into the fountain?'"
Kristen: "I have no response to that."
Mom: "Don't make me hurt you."
Kristen: "Oh, that fountain."
Mom: "Chop chop."

20 minutes later: Kristen is still scrubbing what appears to be a coat of half vomit half diarrhea (sorry friends...it's the only way to convey to you the vile-ness) with little to no success. Enter mother.

M: "Here's a bottle of Clorox...have at it."
K: "Have you lost your mind? And I'm serious this time."
M: *the look*
K (shielding eyes): "Remember how you like to watch birds drink out of this fountain? Last time I checked, robins don't like bleach."
M: "Just rinse it out really really well when you're done."
K: "Please don't make me become a birdie murderer."
M: "They will be FINE. Scrub."

(I believe this is where we began with the British accents, which of course led to me speaking like an Indian. No not Native American...red dot on the forehead Indian. All my attempts at being a foreigner leave me giving a riveting impression of Apu Nahasapeemapetilon. However, I will now stop killing you slowly with this tangent and save my language woes for therapy.)

K: "I declare madam! The fowl shall surely perish!"
M: "Peasant! I did not pay 4 shillings for a complainer! Thine life shall be my bidding!"
K: "Yur veeshous mie comehand."

And here we rejoin you one week later. What do you know, Kristen was right again and is in fact an avian assassin. Surprise!

just another day in the life of yours truly

2008-06-13T00:20:00.017-06:00

I just walked directly into a closed door and actually hit my face on it. As in, face smashed in door = me. Try not to be too jealous.

Running into things is not uncommon to me. Once in junior high I was actually defending myself after being called clumsy when I walked into a chain link fence. I lost that argument.

This is bringing back semi-painful memories of another incident from my hooligan days (okay fine, it was like 2 years ago). One ordinary day (don't worry it becomes extra-ordinary) I was running (to be clear...sprinting) from the kitchen to the office (I've just acknowledged my obscene overuse of parenthesis), most likely in an attempt to escape from a 10-minute clean up.

Our house looks like this:

This is actually the blueprint we used for building. Let me explain the markings. The yellow dot represents my dear father sitting in a chair, silently thumbing through a book. The red line represents me, running quite swiftly. Please notice that this red line does not end in the office. It ends at the wall. To be precise, the wall which I hit at 77 miles per hour. The wall which knocked me off my feet and left my face planted firmly on the floor. Wait, here's the kicker. This is the point in the story where I think I have run into a human and am feeling bad about that fact. Still eating carpet, I begin to throw out my deepest of apologies. "I'm so sorry! Oh my gosh, I didn't even see you there! I just rammed right into you! I'm so so sorry!" And here's where previously mentioned parent looks up from his studies, pauses for quick analysis of the situation and then calmly let's me know, "Yeah...I'm pretty sure it doesn't care."

Thanks Dad. Way to take away my last shred of dignity.

enemies list

2008-06-11T08:33:00.003-06:00

Sometimes when I'm having an especially glorious day I just feel like listing things I like. Counting my blessings, so to speak. Today is a bog-of-eternal-stench day and my attitude is less than glorious. It's allowed, so bite me (unless your name is Shirley Kidman because your response to that statement is just shy of publicly acceptable and left a mark on my arm for 6 hours). I believe The Pretenders once poetically and prophetically sang, "If you're mad, get mad!" And I say to that, "Okee-dokee. Sounds like a plan." So here we go...

(Pause: You may want to choose a somber song for this read. Might I suggest something along the lines of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" or the theme to Titanic.)

My Enemies (not to be confused with Enemas):

1. Enemas
2. Ants (real ones and the movie)
3. Pepto Bismol - You might as well eat Life Savers. They taste better and will probably cure your heartburn, nausea, indigestion, upset stomach, and diarrhea more effectively and without causing a lame song and dance routine to waltz through your head. Reading this blog has the opposite effect...for both the recollection of said song, and your gassy innards.
4. The sound of fingernails being filed
5. Cancer
6. Science (class)
7. Boy bands
8. Long fingernails (on me)
9. Long toenails (on anyone)
10. Whole milk- which sometimes cleverly goes by an alias...Vitamin D. Don't be fooled. The D stands for Disgusting.
11. Being cold
12. When someone starts a text conversation in the middle of the one you are attempting to have in real life. One word: URLAME.
12. Purple
13. Decisions (Anything ranging from "Do I want a small spoon or medium sized spoon with which to eat my Cocoa Puffs this morning?" to "What should I do with the rest of my life?")
14. "Because I Have Been Given Much"...I have an explanation, but not one that will satisfy you.
15. When people let grotesque verbage such as "LOL" and "OMG" actually escape their real life mouths and vocal chords.
16. Cat food commercials
17. Velvet (this applies to any and all surfaces including, but not limited to: furniture, windows, and humans.)
18. Treadmills
19. Slow or broken computers (namely PCs)
20. Bad perfume
21. Anyone who is getting annoyed with my overuse of lists lately
22. The time I discovered a song entitled, "Be Less Rude" and didn't like it, because need we kid ourselves? That's the raddest and baddest song title in all of history. Thank you to the Frightened Rabbits for wasting a good name on your craptastic singing. That was rude of you. Also,

BAD singing + good song NAME - 'singing good song' = Frightened Rabbits.

Get a pen and paper...don't forget to show your work.
23. I'm sorry, was that rude?
24. Crunchy peanut butter
25. I-15 construction
26. Redundancy
27. Redundancy
28. Sad attempts at cleverness
29. Bad writing for which people are being paid. (I'm not getting paid, so just suck that comment right back through your lips.)
30. PMS (no Jared, not the tea.)

THE END

growing up is poop

2008-06-10T11:53:00.008-06:00

I'm having a hard time deciding what to be when I grow up (also known as now). I realize this is something I should have had at least semi-planned out like 13 grades ago, but guess what? I didn't. Get over it Paco. Actually, I take it back. That statement is not entirely true. Here's a little tidbit I found this morning from first grade art class:
So, yes. I had dreams and plans. No, they did not so much work out for me as crash and burn. (Although I just want to say that had the fire of desire within me to be a BYU football player been kept aflame, I am fully confident I would be on the team right now.) Also, if anyone has any ideas as to what appears to be the filmer's beaver tail might be, I'm still working on it myself.

Since I feel like I'm going in a backwards direction, I've decided to float with the flow and solve this problem backwards-ly. Instead of drawing up continuous blanks when asked what I want to be, I'll go ahead and list the things I know I do not want to be and why. (And let's remember to not get offended if you are say, a plumber or lion tamer).

1. plumber-duh
2. artist- please refer to above depiction
3. manicurist-the sound of files makes me want to eat my own fingers
4. keeper of the dog- :) oh that's right, I'm Hi-larious.
5. eye doctor - eyes are gross and i'd rather not blind anyone
6. dentist- this noise: "bzweeeegaaakakakaa!!!"
7. nanny- kids are mean and know good pranks
8. hairstylist- people care more about their hair than their children.
9. contortionist - click here
10. teacher- see #7
11. lion tamer - head + body + still attached = super
12. flight attendant - have you honestly ever met a flight attendant who didn't give you the heeby jeebies?
13. chef - the 3 times I've attempted homemade macaroni and cheese, the result was this:

In case this Rembrandt leaves you unconvinced...for breakfast this morning I had "pancakes" - also known as "a piece of bread with syrup on top."

I'm striking out all over the place. Feel free to drop your suggestions in the comment box below.

ready or not...here i come!

2008-06-09T21:09:00.003-06:00

I spent a large portion of the afternoon playing hide-and-go-seek with Mer's kids. I'd have to say the 12 and a half minutes I spent zipped up in a suitcase were the least enjoyable of the day. But all is well (minus a ghastly headache)...I won. At least I now know I never want to be a contortionist. Check that off the list.

the postal service(s)

2008-06-08T15:00:00.002-06:00

Bless the Postal Services. Both the United States one and the musically inclined one. (click here then down arrow...you know the drill.)

I would like to publicly apologize to UPS for a certain occurrence that took place a few days ago and for all the resulting pain said situation may or may not have caused. This apology is especially intended for the woman with whom I engaged in an undisclosed number of rather heated phone conversations, the likes of which possibly (likely) led to a serious hive break out. My deepest to you Madam.

Dear UPS,

I am so very sorry that I put you through what some might call "an experience not unlike an un-novacained root canal" the other day by making you search for a package for a number of hours I would rather leave anonymous at this point. I am so very sorry indeed that even after I realized, midway through your search that UPS does not in fact stand for United (states) Postal Service, I was too embarrassed to admit my faults and let you stop searching. So on you hunted like noble....mountain men for the box that was on it's way to my doorstep via the other postal service, namely the real one. I have pride issues, for which I do apologize most sincerely. In my defense, I forgot to wear my CTR ring that day and one always needs a visual.

Yours Truly,
Me

P.S. So sorry.

for k & e

2008-06-05T22:48:00.014-06:00

Thank you for the best birthday week of my entire life. I'm sorry the blog has not been graced by your presence until now... it most definitely was unintentional.

Here are my top 10:

1. Meeting Mermo, He-nry, Lulie, and Goop. Thanks for sharing.

2. Royally catered meals. Thank you Martha.

3. "Julie caught a Jelly(fish), Minnie caught a Minnow, Roy caught a (Sting) Ray, your Boss caught a Bass, and Tina caught a _______" ..... SHARK!

4. "In lieu of flowers... please send candy"

5. "Portly" and "Cuddly" oh yes, and "Unbalanced"

6. This conversation:
K: "Maren, you know how there are different kinds of beans?"
M (the 6-year old): "Oh you mean like Kidney Beans, and Chili Beans, and Garbanzo Beans, and Pork and Beans, and..."
K: "Chili Bean!!! That's a GREAT ONE!!!"

6.5 (it correlates). "Where oh where has Freshly Picked String Green French Cut Been?"

7. This moment at the Playmill:

(all rights reserved. Love, Picasso)

8. This conversation:
Kristen: "How old are you turning?"
Patrick: "Uh....Eight."
Some girl in the corner: "Duuuuhhhh."

and this one too:

K: "Mawen, yoh sce-wy."
Maren: "Why do you talk funny? You said sce-wy, and you should say sce-wy."

9. "And they don't take insurance!"

and last but CERTAINLY not least:

10. When someone accidentally may or may not have hit a certain other someone in the forehead with a certain colorful suction ball.

Wait, can I have one more? Okay.

11. "Look! A triangular shaped pile of dirt!"

Oh shoot...and also the chocolate milk. Thank you I.F. cows. You beat out all 11. Point 5. You are the most favorite.

GRASSSSYYYYAAAASSSSS. Love you two stink pots.

exercise

2008-05-28T17:33:00.009-06:00

Here are my thoughts on the matter: Exercise is weird.

I'll explain. Close your eyes and picture this......... Okay, now that you've re-opened them to read what you are supposed to be picturing, just keep them open and we'll fix that glitch by imagining with our eyes open. Or you could just close one if that helps. Close your eye and imagine you are an alien. It's hard, but try. You are an ambassador from Vortex 8 and you are on a mission to learn more about these creatures called "humans" on this planet called "Earth". You are to observe the daily life of the world's inhabitants and write up a report of your findings. I can see it now: "These extraterrestrial beings are highly advanced technically, medically, ethically (sometimes), culturally, and every night they jump on conveyor belts and run themselves into a state of complete and utter exhaustion."

When I watch a person run on a treadmill I get profoundly confused. Picture it. (I'm really into the visualizations today)... Imagine someone sprinting on a treadmill (someone ridiculously good-looking if that helps you stay focused, or not so hunk-ish for the same reason). Now keep watching this person run, sprint, push their heart to its absolute limit, oh the pain! Sweat drips down this person's face, then flies off his luschious head of hair as he flings his noggin from side to side in slow motion...FOCUS! Come on people, stay with me! Now ask yourself this question: "What on planet Earth is said human doing?"

I've read the studies, I've studied the readings....I know the answer. I know that our bodies were made to get a days work done and I realize that a days work has changed from having to chase down a cheetah, wrestle it into a headlock, kill it with your bare hands, hoist it onto a tree you have just cut down with a cheetah tooth and roast it for the kiddies' dinner to...sitting your hiney on a cushioned chair and using all stored energy only to lift your finger to a keyboard and click that enter button (you can do it!), with the occasional trip to the nearest restroom provided you forgot your depends that day. But what I'm really trying to get at here is this: Aren't our bodies these incredible machines that can adapt to anything and evolve over time to meet the needs of our environment? And if so, is it really that hard to just accustom yourself to one's sedentary ways and still be healthy? Come on, it can't be that hard....really. Bodies withstood the fashions of the 1980's, and nothing can be much more difficult than that. We altered the course of the world and ended up having to compensate for being more efficient than neanderthals. I mean evolution has been great for the whole opposable thumbs thing, but I think we got the short end of the stick on exercise.

In conclusion I would like to first apologize for the length of this post and pray that you have not actually read the entire thing, being as how it is simply a rant I have somehow embarked upon. Secondly, I would like to say that I actually do like to exercise (usually) and that I think it serves useful purposes (aka endorphins), and with that being said I have now made this entire saga of streaming thoughts completely and utterly credit-less. Welcome to my brain. Actually...one thing is excused from the pointlessness and that is the part where I express my deep rooted hatred of the treadmill. Please go run SOMEWHERE and see SOMETHING.

Amen.

p.s.

2008-05-22T21:20:00.005-06:00

It's back! And along with it my one and only perfected talent: Mary the Judge impersonations. I don't claim many sensational abilities...but oh baby can I hop on the hot tamale train.

fried hair and chicken

2008-05-22T17:38:00.010-06:00

The most absurd ideas pass through my brain constantly. I can't seem to stop them and each time they leave I think, "Hmm, that is something I have never thought nor will ever likely think again." Today as I curled my hair, this one meandered through: "Wow, the outermost layer of my hair is just like pre-cooked chicken nuggets." It's true. Reasoning please? Okay. The top layer of hair on my head curls so much more quickly and nicely than those underneath and the only explanation I could come up with was that they have been fried more (from being colored) and therefore are like unto pre-fried frozen meat. They curl faster when they are fried by the iron, just as pre-cooked meat fries faster than raw when placed in the microwave. Kapish? (Also my hair was a tiny bit greasy today....but ssshhh, don't tell).

What are your random thoughts? Or is it just me?

colorblind

2008-05-15T16:04:00.004-06:00

This is the most amazing improv I have ever seen in my life. How you can just make movements like this up as you go, let alone run and throw yourself onto someone else with no prior planning is beyond me. Talk about TRUST.

Muirhead Survivor

2008-05-13T18:00:00.002-06:00

Michelle and I are currently in the middle of a game I just invented. It's called Muirhead Survivor.

Here are the rules:

1. You must enter "the dungeon" (a 2.5 x 14 ft., unfinished cement room in our basement) with only the clothes on your back and three items of your choosing.
2. These three items must be selected and prepared in a 5 minute time period.
3. All doors are closed securely.
4. After 5 minutes....lights off.
5. Last person to leave the room wins the PRIZE!

Pictures to follow... I did not choose a camera as one of my items.

Michelle has selected:
1. LARGE water bottle
2. Sleeping bag
3. Yarn (It was bread at first, but I was merciful and told her she'd want some entertainment.)...Although...yarn? Really? Whatever floats your boat I guess.

I have chosen:
1. Small water bottle (thank you small bladder)
2. Computer (already losing power)
3. A nice big comforter

We have been here 5 minutes and the drama has already begun.

Drama one: Michelle: I have to pee! (as she takes a sip of her 64 ouncer)
Drama two: Michelle sitting directly on a spider.
Drama three: Kristen yelling "Oh my gosh!" just for fun...Michelle not appreciating that.
Drama four: Michelle can't think of too many things to do with a ball of yarn. Duh.
Drama five: Michelle: I still have to pee! (betcha wish you would have kept that bread...and baggie. :) )

Ssshhh...now she's trying to sleep. I'll let you know how this all goes down.

pray for my lungs...yes you

2008-05-11T12:13:00.005-06:00

Okay fine, I do not have lung cancer but I seem to have contracted the second worst thing. It's diagnosed as "I signed up for a marathon and I run akin to the strides of young Forrest Gump." Well that's the medical term anyway. But really... a mile's pushing it. Pretty hard. Let me be clear...in the story of the Tortoise and the Hare, I am the slug slash monkey. The slunky. You know, the character that is slower than the tortoise, but has a worse sense of direction and shorter attention span than the hare? The one who decides she is a runner, goes a few steps, but then sees a banana and finds herself so delighted in her new discovery that she forgets she should be running. Or wait, was she?

Anyway, I don't know what spawned this new endeavor but it should be a laugh for all. Please, by all means, indulge yourself in my ridiculousness. Let's just call it a short bout of insanity...which I am really really REALLY excited about. And scared to the point of diarrhea. But maybe that's just the bananas.

BUT. At least I still have these treasures. (Although I never got around to painting the second one and it does seem to prompt unwanted stares and comments from strangers)

Please click here to meet my beautiful and talented running coach/cheerleader/amigo extraordinaire who is really just something else. She is hoping to break 4 hours. I'm aiming for under 6. Mostly because that is when they close the finish line and start dissembling the bleachers, and I'd really like to go ahead and finish with all structures in tact.

Hey. Did I mention I'm really excited?

Also, P.S. to dear Natalie, I love you for doing this (and some other reasons too). Do not panic. I am IN. Oh, and excited.

shoot a pilot

2008-05-08T18:57:00.005-06:00

My last post about our near and dear national airport system just reminded me of what may quite possibly be my favorite story of all time. Years ago (do I sound like I'm 82?) Well, back in the day when I was just a youngin'... my dad was traveling with a film crew during the production of a television show they were working on. You know how when you venture abroad the agent who checks your passport asks the purpose of your travel? Well, when a co-worker of his was asked this question he answered without too much thought (obviously), "We're going to shoot a pilot." Agent: "Excuse me?" Co-worker (slowly, and with added enunciation so as not to be mistaken again), "We are gooooing to shoot a piiiiilot." (Just in case you are not up to speed with film industry lingo... Shooting=Filming, Pilot= First episode of a television series). You can imagine how well that went over with the TSA, known for their loving gentleness.

LAS to LAX = LAM(e)

2008-05-04T20:27:00.002-06:00

Last weekend I took a trip to not-so-sunny California to help my dad and brother photograph a wedding. It may or may not have been the most difficult traveling procedure of my life. But fear you not, I have survived.

Step one: Kristen prepares her luggage and loads up old rusty trusty Cracker (the beautiful Corolla) for their excursion to lovely (ba ha ha) Las Vegas. As she walks out the door of her apartment, Abbie (the roommate) offers an interesting bit of information about a time zone change somewhere in between herself and the airport.

Step two: Kristen spends the next 20 to 30 minutes calculating whether or not this means she has an EXTRA hour, or a MINUS (word help please) hour. She has lost an hour. No, she's gained an hour. No lost. Wait...gained? Gained. She definitely has an extra hour. But not really, because she just wasted it debating about the loss/gain of said hour, so she technically has neither lost nor gained...simply broken even. Time to go!

Step three: Thanks to her slight speeding disorder, Kristen (now half way to LV) is making swimmingly great time and might even get to the airport before her anticipated arrival time. Good thing too, because she may or may not have forgotten to take a potty break before leaving the house an hour ago.

Step four: 30 miles from airport Kristen hits massive and ridiculously exacerbating traffic. No worries, we are still ahead of schedule.

Step five: We are not ahead of schedule. We are behind schedule, due to the fact that I have not moved even an inch since step four.

Step six: Arrival at airport. Signs are of no help. Lost trying to find economy parking. Find it, miss shuttle, take next one.

Step seven: I get to the ticket counter and see a line of at least 60 individuals. Laughing slash crying, I approach the nearest uniformed person in my line of vision and beg for sweet mercy. She directs me to a self-check in computer which asks me for a confirmation number I cannot find on my piece of paper. I return to previously mentioned woman who looks at my paper and replies, "Honey, that print's so small I don't think God could read it." I beg to differ, although I don't press the issue. I return to self computer (which now of course has a 4 person line...I wait.) and enter the confirmation number I have miraculously found. "We're sorry. You are too late to check in for your flight." I check the clock..."Like H-e- double hockey sticks I'm too late! I still have 15 entire 60 second minutes!" I yell at the screen. The British man behind me looks away, pretending to not be paying attention. I return once more to said worker (she's loving me at this point) and announce my disapproval at her technology's non-compliance with my schedule. She tells me I must be at the airport one hour before departure to keep my seat. I tell her exactly what I think of that and leave to get back in line, print off my ticket for the next flight (they want $50 to confirm), and run to my gate, which lo and behold...has been changed.

Step seven and a half: Because this is getting long, let's just say security was a war zone. I was selected for the "strip search" but somehow was let off the hook. (Lins: I didn't even ask what his flashlight thing was for this time!)

Step eight: I pass a bathroom and my bladder yells at me, "Listen sister! I promise that I will pee your pants if you don't let me go!" I yell back, "Do it. I dare you. I am NOT missing this flight!"

Step nine: I find my gate. Over the intercom I hear "Last call for flight blah blah!" I see a line of approximately 10 stand-by fliers, begging to be put on the plane. After waiting a moment behind them, my mean side (I call her Katrina) comes out and I walk to the front of the line and tell them I have a ticket for this flight. "We're sorry, you weren't here in time. We've given your seat away." Intercom: "The gate will be closing in 30 seconds...29...28." I look over and see the hinge begin to move. Me: "Excuse me. I am not too late. I still have 27 seconds." Employee: "Well, I can't get my printer to work, so I can't print you off a ticket. I'll put you on the next flight." Katrina (you know, one of those people you are embarrassed for...): "No! You will put me on this flight because I bought a seat on it 6 weeks ago and I paid for it and I am here and the airplane is still on the ground! Look! See it out there? It hasn't even moved yet!" Desk agent: "We do have a seat in the rear of the plane reserved for an oversized package." Katrina: "I am a HUMAN! That is a bunch of CARDBOARD! Put it in the bathroom! Because so help me if you give my seat to a BOX."

Step ten: I am on the airplane, walking to my seat. All plane occupants' eyes are fixed on me as the flight attendant picks up her phone and in a sweet as ever voice says, "We do apologize for the delay, but we had a little issue and it's all taken care of and we are ready to leave." Again...all eyes on me. I almost yelled out an apology, but was a little too distraught.

Step eleven: We are airborne and the fasten seatbelt sign is turned off. I have to pee like a racehorse. Too bad the drink cart is right next to me (well, technically it is right next to the German, who is right next to me, who is asleep.) I wake him up and Katrina tells the flight attendant that she's gonna need to move her cart immediately if she doesn't want me to pee on her seat cushion/ flotation device. She is hesitant to comply, but my angry eyes convince her in the end.

Step twelve: The German on my right and the Singaporian on my left engage in heated, bad-breath debates across my lap for the next 45 minutes, both leaning in for emphasis. "Yo cuntree hahs no mercee foh meestahks." "Eh?" "YO CUNTREE EES MERCEELESS." "Vaht ah yu sayeeng?" etc. etc. etc. I interjected translations when I could, for my own sanity.

I hate flying with all the passions invested in my being.

did you hear? reading is cool

2008-04-29T21:36:00.010-06:00

If I were to narrow down my love of grades one through six to just one reason it would hands down be read-a-thons. They were few and in between in my day thanks to the "six months principle's office free" rule, which made them even more a blessed event. (I really had a problem with the whole "obey the rules" concept in elementary school.) None the less, they came occasionally and nothing was more rewarding than showing up to class in my power ranger p.j.s with a pillow, a bag of starbursts, and the latest installment in the babysitters club series.

Today is your lucky day because I'm bringing it back...cyber style! Go hop into those old sweats, and curl up to your computer with a box of Jujubies, because I'm bringing directly to you links to a few of my favorite online reads as of late (let's not get offended if I forgot one of yours...these are just one's that popped into my head.) They are blog posts that either just clicked with me personally or caused introspection, laughter, and possible near-peed pants experiences...from people who just, well, say it better. Please enjoy... (and not sue me if one of yours is on here...remember what Mother Theresa once said, "Plagiarism can be a super-duper way to get good stuff out there. Amen.")

The Gorge - Kate

Market! (I prefer to call this one "Hanging Peasants" (sorry Ab) - Abbie

My Home - Natalie

Nimbostratus - Heather

Love - Catherine

James and His Phrases - Catherine

Physics Schmysics: That's What I Say - Spencer

Teenagers are the New Stupid - Spencer

Redwood Giants - Angie

Yawping - Abbie (on Angie's blog)

My happiness from reading these thanks your brilliance. I'm thinking I'll do this every now and then, as the lists will continue to grow!

fare thee well

2008-04-24T11:53:00.003-06:00

Today is my last day of work at the good ole' salon de' la tan, of which I am no fan. All I have to say are these words:

Pause, tangent: Remember when Michelle used to say, "Tee-ee, I have fwee seens to teow yew. One is...?" Ha ha! Just popped into my head. So funny. Anyway, back to me, as usual.

1. Goodbye to 8 hour shifts of non-stop physical exertion.
2. Goodbye dear horrible men (you know who you are) and horribly talented women (more frequently) who pee in the garbage cans on a daily basis. ** (please see appendix A)
3. Goodbye mopping the entire salon...with no mop. Use your imagination.
4. Goodbye people who don't know that a garbage can is where your garbage goes.
5. Goodbye 99.9 The Mix, and your track of 3 songs (Miley Cirus, Hey There Delilah, Teardrops from My Guitar) played on repeat 24 hours a day. I think it's time to head to Walmart for the next edition of today's top 10 hits.
6. Goodbye smell of burning flesh.
7. Goodbye co-workers who will never, ever, under any circumstance cover a shift for you. (excluding one and of course, my lovely bosses)
8. Goodbye 40 year-old daily customers who I thought were 79.
9. Goodbye phone that never stops ringing.
10. Goodbye 14 year old who wouldn't tan because you forgot your bunny sticker and didn't want to ruin your bunny. Goodbye to you same girl who threw a full blown tantrum in my lobby, in front of 5 other customers and made your mom go home and get it for you. I hope you have children exactly like you someday.
11. Goodbye people who come in 10 minutes after closing time and when I tell you that you can't tan for the full 20 minutes, start yelling obscenities such as $# and @% and F.U. and *beep* at me. Sincerely, I thank you.

In closing I'd just like to say Adieu, adieu, to yu and yu and yu. Soooo------lloooooonng!! (but it won't be long enough)
Adios, Au Revoir, Peace out homies.

** Appendix A: I am seriously considering beginning a potty training course. For adults. Please note I did not say white, circular waste receptacle training. People seem quite proficient in that area already. Considering the 6 pee-full garbages I have cleaned out this week, I think there's potential for big money in this business. Okay folks, let me lay it out for all'y'all. I know, it's hard to take those ten extra steps to the bathroom, and I know it's hard to sit on that shiny porcelain hole-y chair, but sometimes life is hard and you can be strong and conquer this. Push through the difficulty...you can do it! I know you can! To the man who diarrhead (yes, it's a word) behind the bed...you might need to shoot for a more advanced approach. Perhaps psychological conditioning? Depends? I know they'd leave a wicked tan line, but when the alternative is me killing you with my bare hands, it might be in your best interest. And last, but certainly not least, to the woman who peed in the garbage can in the bathroom, you know...the one right next to the toilet. I know it's nice to set goals and it feels great to accomplish things you never thought possible, but next time maybe you could just enter the county fair's hot dog eating contest or something. Just a suggestion...

movie review

2008-04-12T22:43:00.001-06:00

By far the most emotionally exhausting 2 hours of my life. I mean truly. At times I found myself praying for a 4 second scene of at least mild to moderate dramatic content so I could catch my breath and try to survive. I think I now know what drowning feels like, and it is not as fun as I originally anticipated. I can't, however, say I didn't like the film. It was well done and well acted and made me more grateful than I have ever been in my life to not live in the "I don't like you...off with your head" time period. Don't know how they did it.

dear brother

2008-04-11T22:22:00.006-06:00

I'm all for individuality, but your head makes me hungry.

muahaha...i love sneaky sneaky

2008-04-01T15:48:00.004-06:00

Today at work I had the most brilliant idea for an April Fool's trick called "putting food coloring in the spray tanning booth." Too bad I am a chicken slash good (well...goodish) employee because this could've been one for the books. But for now it remains simply an idea. ......mostly.

mmmm.....delish

2008-03-29T23:35:00.008-06:00

Today on my bike ride I feasted on at least 30 bugs. Good thing too...'cause that power bar just wasn't holding me over. I literally had to wipe the smooshed insects off of my arms and legs when I got home. Now I know how poor Cracker Jack must feel after a long road trip. I need to hook myself up with one of those funeral face veils or something like unto one. What do you think....I could pull this off with a helmet, no?

sparkling spelunking

2008-03-27T12:32:00.011-06:00

When rad meets radder...you know glow-in-the-dark rainbow paint, the middle of the night, and a miles deep volcanic cave have to be involved. I'm putting last night's underground, razzle-dazzle-y, paint- yourself-and-a-cave-with-glowstick-goop game of sardines in my top 5 favorite things i have ever done. Like ever.

dear gwen, amen.

2008-03-26T11:57:00.004-06:00

"Sometimes it’s so hard to find what it is I’m trying to say.
People might think you can turn creativity on and off,
but it’s not like that. It just kinda comes out,
a mash-up of all these things you collect in your mind.
You never know when it’s gonna happen, but when it does…
it’s like MAGIC.
It’s just that simple, and it’s just that hard."
-G.S.

isteal wednesday

2008-03-19T14:33:00.002-06:00

Here's to Angie for finding this rad video, and then not killing me when I just plop it right off her blog into this post. In case you didn't get the memo, frozen people are way radder than moving people. Obviously. And my new favorite human is the guy on the cart. "I can't move! There's frozen people everywhere! Nevermind..."

CLICK HERE FOR MORE!

itunes tuesday

2008-03-18T14:28:00.006-06:00

(be forewarned, I cut out all the parts that when this song comes on in the car and I don't know the words, tends to cause frustration and anger and leads to the cutting them out of my blog.)

Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!

I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like

All I wanna do is

Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my

Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle
Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Bicycle race

Bicycle! Bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like

and I do. It is WARM.

chickety china, the chinese chicken

2008-03-17T17:30:00.013-06:00

Today at work I was watching the E! Channel.....guilty. When the "newscaster" if you can call him that, exclaimed with no interest whatsoever that Carrie Underwood was a server during college at...dun dun dun... Sam & Ella's Chicken Palace....I snorted one of those painful laugh snorts...the kind that usually seem to occur while you have water in your mouth or during a cough or sneeze, or cough/sneeze. Sometimes useful information is presented from the hour of 10 to 11 am, and today was no exception. When the elaborating elaborators did not care to elaborate, or even crack a smile for that matter, on this fact (Sam n' Ella), and considering these leeches elaborate on items of interest as incredulously insignificant as Paris Hilton's granny's hairdresser's niece's neighbor's new BFF's heinous (or heeeneeous if your name starts with Sh and ends with annon Muirhead)floral handbag, this one either flew right over their heads, or they've seriously underestimated the power of a good chicken palace.

Sam and Ella's Chicken Palace. Sam and Ella's Chicken Palace. Nope....not getting any better. Palace or not (although it is a nice touch), I still never want to visit you. But maybe that's just because I'm so in love with Mr. Edmond Coli's Beef Bistro. Mmmmmmmmm......

Also, before I close up the discussion on the news I'd like to throw in my two cents about the one exception to my usual loathing of good ole' fashioned gossip, and that is when these entertainment shows do stories about the "stupid-need-to-back-off paparazzi"...who are they. Or to say it more plainly...who they are. They are them. They are they. This seems to happen frequently and each time it does I want to yell at the screen, "Hey people! You doing this story is like me doing a story about how awesome people should stop being so awesome all the time!" Or to say it more plainly...I am awesome.

Peace.

Bub

2008-03-15T14:11:00.002-06:00

My mom turns the big five-oh today. I was gonna crack some joke about how she looks 27, but let's be honest...when you have 50 years of wisdom under your belt, you should shout it from the rooftops. You should make sure EVERYONE knows that you are fifty and be proud like Simba of it. No? I'll let you know for sure in 30 years....

Also in the plan for today was to list 50 things I love about this lady, one for every year she's lived. But due to a lack of power cord, I am paying per minute for internet access and so due to lack of funding, not lack of loves....here are 16 reasons I lalalalove Ms. Barbara Nelson Muirhead, one for every year I lived before getting a brain:

1. The way she hums songs throughout the day.
2. When she says, "Don't should on yourself"
3. Her piano skills...ahoy Mozart.
4. Her love of gardening, which incidentally leads to my love of our garden.
5. This woman can read a book in like 7 minutes. She pretty much owns the library.
6. "The look" Well, I love it when it is directed at someone other than myself.
7. She lets me make up my own religion, guilt free...and even contributes speculatory doctrines on occasion.
8. She'll play Memory with me even though she HATES it (but just cause I win every time.)
9. She cuts her own hair.
10. She can type approximately 400 wpm. We made her take an official speed test this week and I quote, "Wait! I ran out of words!"
11. She is always in attendance at my pity parties.
12. She lets you be a sore loser when she whips your pants at Scrabble.
13. She gives free therapy to anyone who wants it. All day long.
14. She is saving the world one person at a time....aka her African children, all the letters she writes, Amnesty International, the neighbors, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.
15. I'm pretty sure you would do anything, and I'm pretty sure I mean anything for a bite of her chocolate chip cookies.
16. She is one of maybe 2 people I know who truly NEVER places judgements or expectations of any kind on anyone.
17. She's just all kinds of awesomeness....one cool chick. :) heh heh. Palm Tree.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMA!

update

2008-03-14T23:17:00.002-06:00

Shannon just called to say she borrowed my shoes one day in Jr. High and spent a Sunday afternoon looking for a kitten at the church. Ha ha ha ha! Laughing out loud.

call me Sydney Bristow part 2

2008-03-12T17:41:00.011-06:00

I'm not really one for posting twice in one day but

a) I am on Spring Break

b) I am bored out of my mind
c) I am in pain
d) I just want to and it's my blog so I'll do what I want

Today I went to the dentist. I hate the dentist. Not so much in a "strawberry milk....not my favorite" kind of way, but more of like a "Renee Zellwegger in anything...slit my wrists and do push-ups" kind of a way. That much plus about 12. Because of my emotional allergies to all things dentistry, and my dislove of things that go "bzzweeeeeeeeyyyeee
aaaaakkkkkiieeeeebzzaaahhhhhhhhhhkkkaaaaaayyyyaaahhhaaaaaahhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!!!!!!!!!!!!".... a few years ago I devised a strategem which enables me to make it through an appointment with no deaths involved...my own or of evil (but nonetheless innocent...sort of) hygenisists...or as I call them, Satan's minions of darkness.

I don't know how many of you are fans of Alias, but I for one certainly am. Being such has schooled me in the ways and means of torture. It's sad, but it's true. I know torture. And when it comes to such circumstances, if you are to be Sydney Anne Bristow, the best agent in the CIA, the cream of the crop, the creme de la creme, you must be fearless. You must not show your anxiety when they send in the masked and gloved interrigators! You must prevail!

As I am lead to the dungeon, I keep an expression of stone upon my face. I am not afraid, I will not speak. We enter the room...a single chair stands solitary in the center. The enemy's tools are layed out an orderly fashion...no doubt a tactical ploy to evoke fear in the hearts of the less Bristow-ish. I am seated and a bib of sorts is strapped around my neck...I can only imagine to catch the blood.

"Okay, Open up" a minion cackles.
"I won't tell you anything! Do you hear me?! I'm not speaking!"
She whirls on some sort of spinning, screaming contraption.
"You'll have to kill me first! Die! Gaaghh!!"

Suddenly, I wake up and realize I have been gassed! How dare they! Did I speak? What did I tell them? Have they used Veritaserum? Am I cross-fantasizing here? And more importantly....what flavor did they use? The anger settles in...one cannot prove their bravery if gas masked! Oooohhhh the injustice.

Okay, so maybe they never gassed me, and maybe all the screaming occurred only in my head...but it DID occur, and that's my point. It works people... and if you happen to get a little carried away, your dentist might hate you and ban you, but you'll feel way more bad and rad, and better than all those narcissists who chose to inflict pain on lesser souls for a living.

one time...

2008-03-11T14:20:00.012-06:00

One time I joined the tennis team having never played before and won 2nd place at regionals.

One time Ryan gave his friend's mom a couple of framed photos he had taken and she started taking them out of the frame so she could put her own in because she thought they were the demos that came with the frames.

One time Shannon and I spent the night in a HOLE, "Big T", for $23, narrowly escaping death so as to not miss an episode of Alias. If I recall correctly there were a number of deadbolts on the door.

One time I saved two fish from imminent death in science class and then forgot to feed them and they died.

One time I missed a much anticipated party looking for a kitten that was stuck in the bushes in my front yard. I would hear it, kneel down to find it and then it would stop meowing. But every time I would give up and start to leave it would meow again! It took me 3 entire hours to discover that my left shoe squeaked just like a kitty when i took a step.

One time I was stretching before a dance class and my hand slipped and I rammed my chin into the floor. It was hilarious and painful. Painfully hilarious.

One time I invented this really awesome flipping trick on my aunt's swingset.

One time I knocked out my two front teeth on a swingset.

One time I dyed my hair the exact color of a lemon drop. And it just so happened to be the same day I met Anthony Hopkins.

One time I had braces. Ohohoho....wait. That was more than one time.

One time I spent the night hauling left over popcorn from all the movie theaters in town and dumping it into my friend's backyard so we could jump off his roof into it.

One time it took 4 days to get all of the butter out of my hair.

One time Shannon broke her butt. I just love saying that. In fact, I am laughing right now. She had to carry around a blue donut cushion everywhere she went.

One time I gave my buddy Garrett the greatest dose of revenge of his life. It involved a non-existent moped, a quiet Sunday morning, and a brilliant post on craigslist by yours truly.

One time I found a fish on the bottom shelf of a bookcase that hadn't been fed for 3 months and revived it. And one time Shannon left her fish (in a bottle) in her car overnight in winter and it froze. She thawed it out with a blow dryer and it lived!

One time fish were pretty much all kinds of awesomeness.

One time Judy Richards thought it would be a great idea to paint "THS" on everyone on the drill team's head with acrylic paint for a football game, and one time we all went to homecoming the next day with green hair.

One time I was ranked 3rd in the world on a minesweeper high scores website. The two people above me were high school kids from Slovakia.

One time Jared told us how stupid we were because we couldn't spell
L-O-V-E-R.

One time my dad was a pilot, and a carpenter, and a camera man, and an editor, and a truck driver, and a computer program instructor, and a landscaper, and about 6 other things. And he can play any sport, and fix anything.

One time I was a super hero offspring.

One time I sort of ran away without telling anyone I was moving to the middle of the Pacific. One time that took a while to blow over.

One time I escaped 6th grade math class with my friend Kirtley by crawling out of the back of the room, and we chased janitors for the good part of an hour, and one time I was dared to shoot a piece of candy off my candy necklace at the whiteboard and one time it hit the teacher, and one time I sprayed silly string all over the vice principal's office and one time I spent most of 6th grade in that office.

One time I got pulled over for breaking about 8 driving laws and still got off the hook. But one time I got a ticket because I had the license plates I had just picked up from the courthouse 10 minutes earlier, IN my car, instead of already ON my car.

One time I got payed $6,000 to take a mystery red pill for 2 months and let them take my blood 56 times.

One time we kneeled in our family room for the most ridiculous amount of time (hours?) waiting for someone to calm down enough to say a prayer without laughing. I don't think we ever got there.

One time my mom payed me $1 for swearing in front of me. Okay, maybe that was like a few hundred times. :)

One time I broke a federal law, but didn't know it. Hope no cops are reading this.

One time at the beginning of the year one of my teachers gave me a CD with all the answers to the tests on it. I still don't know why...but I am the only student who got an A.

One time I counted up how many jobs I have had since I was 16. It was 15.

One time I sat in Borders for 10 hours straight just reading books.

One time my friend Ang and I had a kid convinced we were identical twins. We did look alike in 7th grade and the poor boy sincerely could not tell us apart.

One time I was almost killed up the canyon by a pack of wild horses. I'm not joking. I was alone, and they can run very very fast. Almost faster than me.

One time we had Family Home Evening.

That one time for FHE, we sat around for hours and made Michelle (age 2?) say "sandwich" over and over again because it sounded like "dammit." Things like, "Go get me some food, Sandwich!" were a big hit.

One time someone beat me at Memory. But only once.

One time in 3rd grade a kid I had a crush on used my chapstick. I threw it away 2 months ago. *sigh*

One time I bowled a 39. Okay, so it was last Saturday. One time the employee told me I couldn't have bumpers because I wasn't 10 years old. One time I put them up anyway....so there. Too bad I still got a 39.

One time I got bored of writing this blog.

for h. brown

2008-03-11T12:23:00.013-06:00

Once upon a time in a land called Timp Anogo-sigh Park Heenglot, there lived a big friendly giant (with a luscious head of hair I might add) named...well, we'll just call him "Jaron"...for his own protection of identity. Here's his picture: Handsome, no?
So, one blistery morning this big friendly giant with great hair (and did I mention he is brilliant? well...you'll see soon enough, carry on) was slightly late for first period (I believe it was Economics 19,000 or no wait! AP Honors Special Smarty Pants Exhalted Beings Chemistry, yes that was it). After speeding his '92 Gold Park Avenue Buick with reckless abandon into his specially reserved "smart kid" stall, he threw it into 'park', grabbed his pack of texts, slammed the door...double checked to make sure it was securely locked (safety first, kids), and took off at a run towards Knowledge Landia.
Here's the part of the movie where we see a montage of Jaron sitting front and center in each of his 14 classes, studiously studying, interspersed with shots of the clock's hands spinning at a rapid rate, all whilst a lovely tune such as say a beetles-like variation of, "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better" plays in the background. Suddenly, we realized that Whoa! It's 2:15 and school is over!, and we find ourselves wishing we could live in montages once in a while...sorry boys and girls, it's just for the Einstein's I guess. Jaron has successfully completed yet another day of learning and walks out to his car while reviewing a returned test, and wondering how it could be possible to only receive 101%. What had he done wrong?
As he approaches the "Golden Dragon," he reaches into his pocket to retrieve the keys. Not there. He tries the outer zipper of his backpack. Nope. The big compartment? Huh-uh. The box in the side pocket labeled "car keys"? Of course not...he'd lost the key to that box ages ago. Where could those blasted things be? As he heaved his load onto the gargantuan hood of the vehicle, he wished he had listened to his mother when she told him to buy a key clapper. But it was too late for second guesses....too late to go back to sleep....it's time to trust my instintcts....sorry. Tangent.
As Jaron stood, hands on hips, pondering...he glanced up at his bag and noticed something strange. It was vibrating. "Well," he said, "I'm no rocket scientist, but I pretty much am and I think I know why my bag would be vibrating in such a manner and I don't think it has to do with any kind of small rodent being trapped inside." "By Golly!" he exclaimed with vigor, "My keys are still in the car! And they are in the ignition! And my car IS STILL RUNNING! From this morning! And I've locked the door! (safety first, kids)"
He quickly catches a ride home with an amigo, and runs through the front door where he finds his beautiful, talented, intelligent, practically-perfect-in-every-way, and HUMBLE sister...we'll just call her Kristen for her own protection...sitting in the family room. Jaron spews out his tale of horror and asks his beautiful, talented, etc. etc. sister where the extra set of keys are. She's intelligent and talented, but she may or may not have lost those keys months earlier.
To make a treacherous treasure hunting story short we'll just end by saying Sir Jaron eventually....and I do mean eventually found said keys in someone's room (we'll keep her annonymous for obvious reasons), and was able to get in and stop his engine. But he will never live it down so long as I shall live.

THE END

itunes tuesday

2008-03-04T21:15:00.008-07:00

If No One Will Listen
KERI NOBLE
(if you click this link to listen...you MUST promise to not ruin your
experience by watching the lame-o video. Just down-arrow it or die.)

Maybe no one told you there is strength in your tears
And so you fight to keep from pouring out
But what if you unlock the gate that keeps your secret soul
Do you think there's enough that you would drown?
If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one's left standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still
I will be here still
No one can take you where you alone must go
There's no telling what you will find there
And, God, I know the fear that eats away at your bones
It's screaming every step, “Just stay here”
If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one's left standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still
I will be here still
If you find your fists are raw and red from beating yourself down
If your legs have given out under the weight
If you find you've been settling for a world of gray
So you wouldn't have to face down your own hate
If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one's left standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still
I will be here still

I swear, this girl's unreal. I love love love ALL of her songs.

BEHOLD

2008-02-29T12:35:00.003-07:00

If you are asking yourself why one would choose to bang in their return to blogging after a hiatus (I hate you dear school/work/flu) with a toothbrush, you obviously have never been introduced to God's latest gift to woman and mankind. I give you the Crest SpinBrush Pro. (aaaaahhhhh!!!!!....just pretend I am a chorus of angels, or perhaps an organ) This little fella has rekindled my long lost love of the brushing of bicuspids. It's like all kinds of goodness swirling about on your gums and tongue. I'm pretty sure if mouths could talk, yours would thank you if you splurged $6 on one of these.

parking

2008-02-18T00:13:00.008-07:00

Dear fellow vehiclists,
If you are one of those special people who drives one of these...
or one of these...and you just so happen to park in one of these...

instead of one of these...

I'm gonna go ahead and say you ruin my life at least three times a day. News fu-lash! You can park pretty much anywhere you want to....a curb, under a tree, a porch, a not-my-parking space...

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, including all kinds of pestilences and disease and melon flavored gatorade, is worse than seeing that open spot and rushing to pull in to find a bike the size of a peanut parked right smack in the middle of it. One of these days I'm going to teach you all a lesson and just ram right over the top of your little two-wheeled tinker toys! Muahahahahaaaah!!!! So there.

it sucks

2008-02-14T21:00:00.008-07:00

school is currently sucking the life out of me not unlike a child let loose
to suction their face purple with a crazy straw and a juice box.

can you spell F-I-R-E-D?

2008-02-08T17:38:00.000-07:00

Looks like someone let the intern run the spell checker again. You'd think with only one word to check the odds would be in your favor. But hey, better luck next time. Thank you dear giant Super 8 billboard for my roadtrip-home-laugh-of-this-day.

itunes tuesday

2008-02-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

"Haiku Tuesday" has been hijacked for a time by "iTunes Tuesday" due to a recent lack of poetic insight and a recent profusion of freaking good songs.

HELD
Natalie Grant

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
take a child from his mother while she prays
is appalling.

Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We’re asking why this happens
to us who have died to live?
It’s unfair.

This is what it means to be held,
how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
and you survive.
This is what it is to be loved
and to know that the promise was
when everything fell we’d be held.

This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrow.
The wise hand opens slowly to lillies of the valley and tomorrow.

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
and to know that the promise was
when everything fell we’d be held.

If hope is born of suffering,
If this is only the beginning,
can we not wait for one hour watching for our Saviour?

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
and you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
and to know that the promise was
when everything fell we’d be held.

We'd be held....

This is what it is to be loved
and to know, that the promise was
when everything fell, we'd be held.

This is what it means to be held.

and that's a fact!

2008-02-03T17:37:00.000-07:00

Here are 11 you may not know:

1. In the average lifetime, a person will walk the equivalent of 5 times around the equator.

2. The word "lethologica" describes the state of not being able to remember the word you want.

3. In England, the Speaker of the House is not allowed to speak.

4. When Heinz ketchup leaves the bottle, it travels at a rate of 25 miles per year.

5. As of 2007 it now costs more than 1 cent to produce a penny.

6. Reno, NV is further west than Los Angeles, CA. (and not in an "all the way around the globe" kind of way... check the map.)

7. In Baltimore, Maryland, it is not legal to take a lion to the movies.

8. Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen are FRATERNAL twins, not identical.

9. No matter its size or weight, no piece of paper can be folded in half more than seven times.

10. Eskimos use refrigerators to keep their food from freezing.

11. In every episode of Seinfeld there is a Superman somewhere.

tv=truth. duh.

2008-02-02T20:25:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the video feast as of late, but when this came
on tonight I literally almost peed my pants.

Hey, they couldn't say it on TV if it wasn't true.

these are a few

2008-01-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

of my faaa-haaaa-voooriiiiite words. Tra la la.

What the french toast? This girl is my new favorite human just for the way she says "lint lick-er." No question.

haiku tuesday

2008-01-29T10:38:00.002-07:00

This paperback's yours!

Just one-hundred and ten bucks.

Ba ha ha! No thanks.

gaagh!!

2008-01-28T19:14:00.000-07:00

And here are my reasonings:

It's been a not so hot-shot day. For starters, I had an award-worthy dream of terror last night and for enders there are large balls of ice violently hurling themselves from the skies outside my window. For middlers, there are a chain of un-elatefying events, one of which just burnt my cookie.

I must start with an introductory explanation of sorts. When one logs onto his/her homepage at blogger (or "Dashboard" for those up to snuff here), and enters her/his "posting" field, this person is greeted with a plethora of helpful buttons (i.e. text color, text size, bold, center/justified text, picture posting, etc. etc. etc.) to aid in his/her endeavors to keep one's fellow earthmates abreast of current occurrences and thoughts. I recently discovered this significant ditty of information. It's true, I have not been blessed with those little thingies.

So you ask, "Dear Madam, how then have you been able to incorporate such elements of the craft into your blog without the use of said
buttons?" And I say to you dear peasants (which now is interchangeable with pheasants BTW...thanks Abbie), "I have indeed been schooling myself on the language of the HTML folk. I have spent hours (I thought everyone was doing it) gaining knowledge on things such as ">numbers fonts/blah blah /#<" and looking up embeded codes of photos, etc. so as to make the sight of my site more appealing to thine eye. In other words, you oweth me."

Upon discovery of this tragic news I immediately enlisted the help of a number of amigos and their numerous, varied computers to make sure that it wasn't simply a mac/my computer problem. It is not. *sigh* I am just curs-ed.

For all my non-bloggist peeps out there who just may not be able to grasp the pain of my useless hours lost...go cut off one of your fingers and you might start to get the idea.

I guess all that is left to do is just yell, "*&%#@$!!" into the blistery heavens. And then repent for the use of symboliseismic verbage.

the whisper

2008-01-26T16:44:00.000-07:00

Conspire theories all you want. We all know it was the Holy Ghost.

a blast from the past

2008-01-23T03:10:00.002-07:00

I recently engaged in a minute dispute and came off less than victorious. Here's how it went down:

Shannon (the sister): "Kristen, isn't it sad that you don't have any normal baby photos?"

Kristen: "Excuse me, of course I do."

Shannon: "You really don't."

Kristen: "Yes I do."

Shannon: "No I mean normal as in 'ones in which you do not look either
a) possessed and/or b) completely ridiculous.'"

Kristen: "They exist. I will prove it."

(pause for intermission while I scour through endless albums, boxes, folders, scrapbooks for ANY evidence which could salvage whatever childhood dignity I once held...)

Aaaaaaaaaannnnnddd....they in fact do not exist. It's a sad story, and an unamusing one to tell, but an accurate tale nonetheless, and I believe in truth. No matter how ugly. Which is, at the moment, unfortunate because some truths indeed are UG-A-LEE.

Here's what I have uncovered:

"Yeah....I'm not so sure about this whole 'blessing' idea.
(Although I am certain the double chin is back in.)"

"I don't know, dinner ended like an hour ago.
I think they forgot I was still in this chair."

"Who the heck are you?"

Just another possessed one... Sometimes I think it
must take a while to get used to this planet we have been
thrown onto. Just a theory. Based on these eyes.

"Uhhh...you left me here again!
You really need to stop doing that."

I cannot believe my brain used to be in there. I wonder
what I was thinking...probably something along the lines of,
'Hey, a rubber chicken!' But your guess is as good as mine.

If Conan O'Brian gets ahold of this..."Celebrity Babies"
will be taken to a whole new level. It might be the end of me.

"Whoops. Did I eat that?"

"He did say to call, you know!"

"Whhooohoooohoooo. They moooove."

Productive sleeper.

"Ba ha ha ha ha ha!"

I knew I was destined for the drill team.

"Wait, seriously? Wear this?"

And just for good measure, I braved the shame of admitting that I was bald until kindergarten (not my fault folks...it's all about the genetics), and threw in a couple especially for you Nat...

(You'll have to excuse the shape of the photos. You can't blame your parents for artistic endeavors of the 80's.)

"Mom, just 'cause I look like a boy, doesn't mean I like them."

"Um, what do you think you're doing there buddy?
He's touching me."

I know you probably think I've gone overkill on the photos, but believe it or not, this is 5% of what I dug out. And speaking of too many photos...I will officially never post this many in one go ever again. Especially with all that old school SCANNING....waaahehey to long. Good thing I currently have no life.

dragons?

2008-01-18T10:54:00.000-07:00

Things that haunt my day to day life:

a. Nightmares
b. Homework
c. Dragons
d. Laun....hmmm? Sorry, what's that you say?

.....No, you've heard right, I just can't seem to get these demons out of my house! They are driving me crazy! But luckily I have found Dwaine.....whew!

Upon browsing through the local phone book this morning over a bowl of fruity pebbles (we have limited materials here, and reading during breakfast is a must for me), I came across this ad in the yellow pages:

You think I'm joking here...but no. This is a legitimate scan from section D.

Like I said, thank heaven above I found him. Besides, one never knows when a new cigarette lighter might be needed.

ELEMENTary school

2008-01-17T20:20:00.001-07:00

I believe I got something out of college today. I know...(Gasp!)

January 17, 2008
Science Bldg. Room 147
Biology 1010 (sad, but true)
7:30 a.m. (also sad but true)

Kristen (star pupil) clenches to awakeness with all strength vested in her being. The battle between scholastics and sweet dreams wages on. She fights, but to no avail and the eyelids begin to droop. As her mind carries her to far off Depp-inhabited lands, a comment made, so un-theatrically, by un-named professor reaches in, grabs hold and drags her back to the un-cushioned seat she occupies in previously mentioned dank classroom. Un-heated (so it seems) dank classroom, I may add.

"Class, who can tell me the definition of an element? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?" (Not joking...)
(silence)
"Elements are those things which can not be broken down by any means."

I repeat.

Elements are those things which CANNOT
BE BROKEN DOWN BY any MEANS.

And WHAM! Just as I begin to take the stage to accept my Oscar, I find myself back in the present.

As I sit in contemplation, my thoughts drift to a common saying. "She is in her element" or "He has found his element." Now hold your pants, I know Bill Nye was thinking more along the lines of Carbon, Oxygen, and the other 92 naturally occurring and 20+ synthetic elements (yes, I am smart, please see periodic table). But God put half my brain on the right side for a reason, and I used it to dig out a deeper meaning. What is my "element?" What is my 'thing' (for lack of a less ambitious term) which cannot be broken down by ANY means? A trait, quality, idea, belief..... Or is an element perhaps something that can keep ME from being broken down by any means?

It's really an open ended question I plan to work on in my free time. And here you thought you would get answers. Silly you. I offer no answers, only opportunities to take a gander in my mind, or simply a peek if you wish. Sometimes I think my life was set up as a giant treasure hunt and the clues (He hides them well) are the Aha! moments that seem to emerge every now and then. Abstract ideas, whether brilliant or otherwise, I tend to find in unexpected places. The prize better be good.

(P.S. for those of you (mom) wondering how I made it to a class, a morning class no less....Shame on you. Occasionally I choose to grace the learning arena with my presence. It happens.)

Oh and p.s. #2...Elements are my favorite cars. Especially the
green and orange ones. Don't they look like they just hopped right out of a Dr. Seuss book? And I bet you didn't know you can hose them out! A-maaaaazing!

the nodes

2008-01-15T22:13:00.000-07:00

If my webmd self-diagnosis has not been misled, and I don't believe it has, my jugulodigastric areas have swollen to approximately the size of grapefruits. It seems as if my lymphatic system has officially declared war. Well I have bad news captain...I accept! That's right, I've got an ammo dump (as ryan so poetically put it) of Vick's Vitamin C Drops! Muahahah!...bring it on.

chin people 2008

2008-01-01T23:58:00.000-07:00

Nothing rings in the new year quite like making home videos at 2 am.

What's that? Uuummmm....nnnnnoooooo. We're not adults.

*ahem*

Ladies and Gents, may I present...Chin People:

(Oh, and apologies in advance to any of our amigos out there of British and/or Indian descent, to whom this motion picture may or may not offend.)

p.s. In case you are actually going to watch it...
Take One says: Yadir comes to the Americas
Take Two: Conversations with the beaverstache

part-time scrooge

2007-12-15T13:48:00.002-07:00

I think I've figured it out...

Contrary to popular belief, I really don't hate Christmas. After some overdue soul searching today, I have realized that it is NOT the decked halls of holly, festivals of trees, Jack Frost nipping at my nose, or even (gasp!)the commercialism of the holidays that gets me down (although that certainly is towards the bottom of my likings list). So I ask myself, if Jolly Old Saint Nick is in fact NOT my nemesis...what's the problem here? Why does this time of year cause me so much anxiety?

ANSWER (grab your seats boys and girls...this one is deep):

I don't hate being blithe and chipper, I don't hate that others are lively and gay (1850's meaning), I hate the expectation that says I am SUPPOSED to be happily galavanting around with a smile on my face because guess what? we stapled some lights to our wall. How can we place a standard like that on the entire human race? If someone wants to not be merry and bright...let's just let them. If gingerbread makes you happy...it makes you happy. If gingerbread makes you break out in hives and stop breathing...well, no one should force you to eat it. That's really all I'm saying here.

Here is my idea of a perfect Christmas: We just think about Jesus and whoever wants to enjoy some holiday traditions...they just go right along and help themselves. But no one is expected to do anything. If a tree makes you happy and reminds you of Jesus, put one up. If a tree is a pain that you dread from March 21st, cut that one out. Back to basics, that's what I say. ABC 123.

So in summary: I'm not against the holidays, I'm against you making me not be against the holidays. I'll be against it if I want to, which I don't. But don't force me here.

Like I said...simple.

the weepies

2007-12-13T13:07:00.000-07:00

Everything that I said I'd do
Like make the world brand new
And take the time for you
I just got lost and slept right through the dawn
And the world spins madly on

I let the day go by
I always say goodbye
I watch the stars from my window sill
The whole world is moving and I'm standing still

CLICK HERE

i'm a survivor

2007-12-05T22:05:00.001-07:00

FEAR NOT. I LIVE.

bedtime stories

2007-12-04T14:45:00.000-07:00

Last night as Elliot and I lay snuggled under the covers of our springy twin size beds, listening to the magical words of Dr. Seuss being read on tape, and basking in the soft glow of the newly installed colored lights in our window, I couldn't help but slip into the spirit of the holidays...at least a little bit.

haiku tuesday

2007-11-27T14:44:00.001-07:00

my new number one

favorite film of all time.

let it change your life.

precipitation exhilaration

2007-11-26T01:02:00.000-07:00

Today I worked (sort of), went to Costco, went to church late, left church early (to pick up a friend from the airport), only half listened to the talks in sacrament meeting, was supposed to speak in church but said no, and wore a tank top thanks to the unbearable heat (No, not to church). Then I went to a fireside. Topic of sermon: Keep the Sabbath day holy. Needless to say, I left feeling very guilty. BUT instead of sulk in my unworthy feelings, I went out in the pouring rain tonight and danced in every mud puddle in town. It soothed my soul to the core.

logic of a boy:

2007-11-21T17:37:00.000-07:00

How do I get a girl to notice me? I know! As she lays out on the beach, I will start a football game around her, making her the 50 yard line. Each time I run past her, I will drop the ball and and with each bend of retreival, I will hope to strike up a dialogue. When this doesn't work, I will simply throw the ball directly at her head and hopefully by the time it hits her in the face, the stars will have aligned themselves and we will fall madly in love. If no other words escape my mouth, at least my charming "I'm so sorry for that newly acquired welt on your luscious, rosy face" will have a chance to woo and charm her. After our "conversation" ends, I will ask her and her friend to move down the beach I have hijacked, from the spot they have been in for the past 2.5 hours, so as not to harm them again. They will probably be impressed with my thoughtfulness for their safety.

Probably not. I am not lying...he aimed for her face on purpose. Poor Tiffany.

Stupid boy...ineffective flirting mechanism. That's really all there is to it.

haiku tuesday

2007-11-20T13:45:00.001-07:00

crisp Japanese pear

$3.95 at Foodland

it's Tree of Life fruit

family business

2007-11-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

Writers. You can't live with them, you can't live without them.

For those of you living under a rock who have not heard the news, Hollywood is currently shutting down. While this is already a VERY BIG DEAL (shed a tear for the office), it is an even bigger deal at my house because thanks to all those striking pompous hippies, my papa is out of work. SO! In an effort to move the resistance along I am hereby declaring a strike against the strike. I confess: Not so much because I care (and I do), but more because I would love to keep my college fund alive. You hear? Step one: Get father work. My dad and brother are photographers, and two of the most artistic people alive. True, my opinion may be one of bias, but it is my strong belief that even if I were not related to these fine men, I would still find their work the equivalent of incredible. But don't take my word for it....CLICK HERE. But before you do, keep in mind that the site is a work in progress. I believe it's been up for approximately 2.5 days, and they are after all not web designers. 'Nuff said about that...

If you need photographs taken for ANY REASON: Christmas cards...engagement/wedding *cough cough* Kristine Gildea...headshots....family photos....your own vanity....ANYTHING! at least consider them. :) And tell everyone you know. Pretty pretty please. With a cherry on the top.

GRACIAS!

oh. my. goodness.

2007-11-17T10:25:00.000-07:00

The acai bowl: Heaven on earth. I have decided to live off of the exquisitness of these babies for the rest of my life. I am sorry, but they are simply too delicious to not consume for every meal. and snack. Please convert immediately.

ode to an office

2007-11-16T02:57:00.000-07:00

Hands down, Thursday is the best day of the week. Why? One word (well three): Michael Gary Scott.

Need I say more? Love you.

aaaaand I'm back

2007-11-15T02:39:00.001-07:00

After much thought, consideration, fasting and prayer, I have decided to return to the blogging world. A new job involving a computer may or may not have been a factor in this decision making process.

taking a hiatus

2007-09-16T03:01:00.000-06:00

No time for computers when this is your backyard....

definitions

2007-08-28T00:05:00.000-06:00

DELICIOUS:

HYSTERICAL:

PEACEFUL:

PURE:

DISTRAUGHT:

CONTENT:

DISTURBING:

MCDREAMY:

shoe paint

2007-08-21T15:08:00.000-06:00

I have never been a huge fan of running. I absolutely love how I feel after a good hard run, but getting myself to go has been a challenge in the past. I have had to tell myself over and over, "Kristen, you LOVE running! Now get up off of your pettooty and get out of here!" This rarely works. My brain is just too smart. It knows when I'm lying. Luckily, I no longer have to fight with myself. My fate has begun to change, all thanks to one important invention: shoe paint. Yes, you've heard right, paint made especially for your footwear.

After analyzing the numerous holes in my 4-year old running shoes, it became apparent that I could no longer use them. I made a leap and went to a REAL running store, with REAL running stuff, for REAL runners. It was enthralling. They watched me run around the store (a little awkward, but nevertheless fun) and a little to my dismay,I was told I have an "over-pronating gate". But fear not my friends, they do in fact have special shoes to fix this problem, and 1 hour and 20 pairs of shoes later, I was handed a pair of deliciously comfortable Sauconys. I'll admit I'm not really up to speed with all the medical "pronation" jargon, all I know is two things: 1. These shoes feel better than butter and 2. They are boooooring. In a REAL running store you are not allowed to complain about the color of your shoes and I obeyed this rule to a tee, but when they handed me these, my heart was slightly saddened:

I was after all, hoping for something a bit spunkier. So, what did I do? I went home and began some internet-style research. After discovering the wonderful paint I invested in every color of the rainbow. In the end, me plus a lot of paint and a not-so-exciting pair of shoes equaled this:

Yes, I got a little carried away, but in all honesty I wasn't really going for "cute", but more along the lines of "what on earth does that girl have on her feet?" Nothing makes me happier than putting these babies on and taking them for a stroll around the neighborhood. So, in summary: If you hate your daily (or sometimes monthly, in my case) workout, go buy a neon green swimsuit with gold polka dots, or spray paint your bike hot pink and sprinkle glitter on the wheels. Maybe even write your favorite words all over it. It is then that you will begin to look forward to your time together.

(thanks for the photos Ryan!)