haiku tuesday

my new number one

favorite film of all time.

let it change your life.

precipitation exhilaration

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:

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

crisp Japanese pear

$3.95 at Foodland

it's Tree of Life fruit

family business

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.

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

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

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

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

definitions

DELICIOUS:


HYSTERICAL:


PEACEFUL:


PURE:


DISTRAUGHT:


CONTENT:


DISTURBING:


MCDREAMY:

shoe paint

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!)

the end of the world as I know it

My world came crashing down today. It's true people...Bear Grylls (Man vs. Wild) is a fake.

Are you finding yourself crying while hysterically screaming, "No! You're a liar! It simply cannot be true!"? Guess what? It can. I'm sorry my friends, but all those hours you spent praying the sharks under the raft wouldn't eat him, or that the little squid would give him enough nourishment to make it another 8 hours, were wasted. Let's just not talk about it anymore.


Here's your proof: click here

Now go cry yourself to sleep, under a big Bearless sky. :(

(In retrospect I have to admit I did wonder what the camera guys ate. But I suppose that's just the camera man's daughter inside of me.)

refrigerator poetry

one set of magnetic words and one slooooow day at work later...

call me sydney bristow

I feel like I shouldn't admit this on the world wide web, but all well, here goes...

Back in the day, my brother Jared and I used to play a little game we liked to call "Nighttime Stalkers", which involved us driving around in the middle of the night in Blue Thunder (beautiful '91 Voyager mini van...love you) through the streets of Utah County, armed with only a couple bucks for gas and a phonebook. Why a phonebook you ask? Because how can you be an effective stalker without knowing where your subjects reside? Muahaha! We were sneaky evil. I am Batman...Jared Robin. (sorry buddy, that's what you get for not driving) Anyway, the basics of the game: Look up people from your life a long time ago (Elementary school teachers, old dentists, long lost classmates, etc. etc.) and go find out where they live. Pretty much that's it. You just see thier house and drive away. I know it doesn't sound too cool, but believe me it is a thrill! For some strange reason, I feel like I understand people better when I know where they live.

"Nighttime Stalkers" was only an update from "Tree Spies" which was formed by my friend Kirtley and I in the 3rd grade. We would climb up into the trees in the orchard behind her house with binoculars and the cordless phone. We'd spy through the windows of the neighbors' houses and after analyzing their current activities, we'd give them a call. Disguising our voices we'd say things like, "How are those Cheerios Mrs. Johnson?" or "Are you winning that computer game Joe?" Sometimes I am amazed I am not in prison right now.

Anyway, what I am getting at here in this eternal post is this: My fettish with CIA-ish hobbies has advanced to an entirely new level. If you have not played with Google Earth yet, you are missing out my friends, because it is so entertaining I could spend all day just looking at the rooftops of random buildings across the globe. Ever wondered how it would feel to fly from the top of the Empire State Building to the Eiffel Tower? Well now you can! You just type in any address on Planet Earth and you are taken right to it! I love technology so much! It's not even funny.



All I know is maybe Harriet the Spy should never have been written, because since I read it when I was 8, I have never been the same. Alias didn't really help the situation either. Dang entertainment...

Disclaimer: I am not a stalker anymore, I just like to look up cool places in Europe and stuff. The investigations ended long ago. In case you were getting worried. :) Hah!

I heart nightmares

Nightmares are apparently my dream of choice. I never have pleasant dreams (at least that I can remember upon waking). A great woman once said, "When life gives you nightmares, make lemonade"...or something to that extent. So, in response to her inspiring words, I have decided to find the bright side of my situation...

Last night my dream involved my dad and I fighting off a pack of ferocious Ogres.

And I'm not talking about this kind:


But more like this kind:


Our weapons of choice? Kitchen knives. Were we victorious? You betcha. Die suckas! Although it was in fact one of the more terrifying moments of my life, I've decided to view these adventures as precious father-daughter bonding time. How many kids get to battle giant green monsters with their dads? Hello! I am like the luckiest girl alive! I don't get to see my dad a lot, so I've learned to appreciate the small moments. Like, for example, the time we grew giant bat wings and flew around a creepy neighboorhood in California, looking for escaped criminals. That one didn't end so well...but we won't go there.

Anyway, the point I am trying to get at here is that....actually, I don't think I have a point. Nevermind.