White Trash Weekend

Friday night the ear doctor and I went to the local county fair. I love fairs...the food, the animals, the 4H projects, and especially the people. Now, the county fairs are different than the big state fairs. When I was little we would always "Do the Puyallup" (Washington State Fair). This fair was huge and drew its crowd from all sorts of socio-economic rungs in the ladder of life. A county fair, on the other hand, is straight up red neck. Things I ate at the fair:

• Pulled Pork sandwich just dripping with BBQ sauce.
• Mammoth sized pitcher of the most watered-down strawberry lemonade ever consumed.
• Large brick 'o curly fries that left a lake of oil on the paper plate.
• Completely flat diet coke.
• Powdered sugar coated funnel cake.

After wandering around and eating enough to fill Noah's entire Ark, we ambled over to the arena for the TRACTOR PULL!

Yes, I've now experienced that ultimate in white trash events. Actually, in all fairness it wasn't nearly as white trash as the WWF wrestling match I went to in high school, but it came very close.

The ear doctor made friends with an older gentleman that was sitting in front of us. Turns out he has been following tractor pulls all his life and had been personally following the career of one truck called "the Junk Yard Dog."

I've never actually been to an event where a fight broke out over whether Ford of Chevy was better.

It was bizarre.

Working for Inatech

Laying in my bed with dripping wet hair and a haphazardly assembled ensemble I looked up at the popcorn ceiling of my new bedroom and took a moment to relax.

It seems like fate refuses to let me be calm with a choice, like it forbids me from coming to any kind of equilibrium point. I feel like a marble balanced carefully on top of an upside down bowl; lying ready to fall off the one point of balance.

Yesterday at work it was announced that my department would be laying people off within the next week or two.

My once quiet and reposed mind has been uprooted and expelled into a tumultuous storm of uncertainty.

I'd made my decision to go to school, but stay working part time to support my dirty little shopping habit. With the extra time at work I can comfortably keep my car. My car. My one symbol of being an independent and successful adult. It embodies my achievement and my responsibility.

Now, if I loose my job that supplemental income will evaporate causing me to living like a poor starving student.

I will immediately go from the wonderfully frivolous lifestyle to which I have become accustomed to that bleak world of having to turn down outings with friends simply because I can't afford it.

I was so frazzled this morning that I didn't even put any mascara on.

That is bad.

Housing Fiasco Part 2

Well, boys and girls, in case you've just joined us in the recent national tragedy that newsmakers are calling, "Katie's Dramatic Move 2005," please take a moment to acquaint yourselves with the events that have transpired in the last 3 days.

After calling the new landlord and having a very calm, yet forceful discussion with her on the phone, she informed me that she would make the cleaners cancel their camping vacation and come over to finish cleaning the house. Her instructions to me were to leave the house key under the flower pot on the back porch and by the time I got home from work on Tuesday, the house would be magically transformed into a quasi hygienic, non-third world looking domicile.

With confidence that my new landlord was not going to let me down, I carried out her instructions.

After work yesterday I slowly approached the door. I hoped with all my heart that it was sparkling and clean. I hoped that the cleaning people had used as much elbow grease as Allison did this weekend. I just really wanted it to be perfect so that my new roommate, who I've recently dubbed "FURY," would be placated.

I took a furtive glance around and noticed that the place had obviously had the windows scoured. Plus, the black slime that was growing above the shower surround was much less noticeable.

Somewhat satisfied for the moment, I finished up painting my new bedroom. It is a beautiful creamy light yellow color that just makes me feel at home.

I went out for dinner with my friend Martin in Denver and when I came back at around 9 I was presented with interesting new information.

FURY was home and chomping at the bit to tell me the events that had transpired during my absence.

She said that the landlord had stopped by. FURY had walked through the house pointing out things that were still unacceptable. The landlord kept trying to make excuses for why the house was presented to us in such a horrifying states. The landlord said that she had tried to tell the former tenants that they needed to clean the house or they would be charged for it. The landlord kept trying to make it everyone else's fault but her own. FURY was having nothing of it. She told the landlord that she was very disappointed thus far in our relationship with her and felt like we needed some kind of offering to repair the relationship.

Later, after the landlord left and before I got home, the previous tenants stopped by to talk to FURY. They were really confused by why we were reacting so much to the condition of the house's cleanliness (or filth rather).

The previous girls told FURY that the landlord told them not to worry about cleaning because she was going to have all the walls repainted and the hardwood floors sanded and re-stained.

FURY and I have decided that they are both liars and we aren't going to trust what either side of the argument says.

We're drafting a list of complaints about the house, having the landlord walk through and inspect them and then demanding that they be fixed by October 1 or we are going to withhold rent. The landlord is going to sign it and so will we.

This morning as I was leaving the house for work I looked in our mailbox and saw that the landlord had left us a check. She pro-rated the rent for the month and gave us our rent back for August 1 since it was too dirty to move in.

I'd say that's a nice way to attempt to rebuild the relationship.

Because I haven't posted in a while...

I filled out this survey about a year ago, but I looked back at my responses and realized that I didn't give these questions the real answers they deserved. So, in an effort to pass the time at work and allow my hot head to cool down from my terrible moving drama this weekend, you all will be entertained with the following.

This is one of the earliest famous "get to know me" -style questionnaires. It is called the "Proust Questionnaire", of which there are two versions. Neither of them were written by Proust, but rather were made well-known because his answers somehow were saved and later published.

• What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? To feel alone, isolated, misunderstood or forgotten
• Where would you like to live? Location isn't as important as the people who live with me....but somewhere with nice weather is always a plus.
• What is your idea of earthly happiness? earthly happiness...really understanding that there is a method to the apparent madness. Using that direction to offer that happiness to those around you. To really enjoy nature. To sit and be still. To be at peace with yourself.
• To what faults do you feel most indulgent? Often I find myself basing my judgment of others upon superficial/chance moments.
• Who are your favorite heroes of fiction? I really like the type of hero that Ayn Rand embodies in Dagny Taggart. Those who fight for an ideal. Who don't give up. Who remain true to themselves. Who represent what we all should be striving for.
• Who are your favorite characters in history? The ones who didn't make the history books.
• Who are your favorite heroines in real life? "A woman of genius leading an ordinary life"<- I plagiarized this because I think it is SO eloquent and beautiful.
• Who are your favorite heroines of fiction? Those who are strong and brave yet still retain an element of femininity. I can't think of one off the top of my head. Only Ester comes to mind.
• Your favorite painter? I haven't really had a chance to be well-versed enough to pick a favorite.
• Your favorite musician? Jeez, where do I begin? Classically speaking, I really like the Russians and the Spanish...mostly the romantics. In the Jazz/Swing arena, I love Billie Holiday. Her voice gives me chills because it is rough and real. In music coming out today...hard to say. You have to look a lot more for real "musicians." I really like Fiona Apple because her lyrics are raw.
• The quality you most admire in a man? Integrity, Self Control/mastery, rippling pectorals.
• The quality you most admire in a woman? Sincerity, Quiet strength, Loyalty
• Your favorite virtue? Divine Nature, Individual Worth, Knowledge, Integrity
• Your favorite occupation? Making music, working in the garden
• Your most marked characteristic? Physically, my bright red hair.....Personality, driven.
• What do you most value in your friends? Loyalty and love
• What is your principle defect? I make the same mistakes over and over without learning anything.
• What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes? Never understanding how loved and valuable I am.
• What would you like to be? The person my mom thinks I can be. To reach the potential that those who love me know I have.
• What is your favorite color? Green...It’s clean and fresh.
• What's your favorite flower? The ones that make my parent's back yard a haven from the responsibilities of my adulthood.
• What is your favorite bird? The little one that woke me up this morning.
• What are your favorite names? Garrett and Maggie
• What is it you most dislike? Failing...even worse, being mediocre
• What natural gift would you most like to possess? Charisma like my father's
• How would you like to die? With a peace concerning the future.
• What is your present state of mind? Pensive, introspective, as "deep" as I ever am. Slightly annoyed that I don't have the answers to this already figured out.

Drama Drama Drama

This weekend was awesome, but it was completely overshadowed by the crappiness that was yesterday.

I had to move.

I, like every other sane person on the planet, hate moving.

I pack all my crap up, become totally amazed by how much crap I've amassed in the past 6 years, start feeling a little overwhelmed at the daunting task before me, get over it, and start the slow process of relocating. This particular move seemed really intimidating because the ear doctor, who had been so kind and helpful moving my furniture on past moves, was up and hour and a half away, up in the mountains at hearing aid camp for the week. I figured I would have to figure out how to move everything on my own this time.

I'd decided to take the day off work so that I could bear down and get it all done.

I naively assumed that since my landlord said I could move in on August 1, that I could actually move in that day.

Foolish, I know.

I showed up at my new house at 9:30 in the morning and was informed that the floors had yet to be cleaned so would I be so kind as to just store my stuff on the back porch until they could come in and put the finishing touches on it.

I said sure, unloaded my first car full to the back porch while taking small glances at the cleaners' progress.

Feeling like this move was going to be no trouble at all, I bounded back to my car to return to my old house for the second car load.

I began refilling my backseat when I heard the sound of tires sliding in gravel to a sudden stop. Slowly I turned my head and was unexpectedly filled with joy.

The ear doctor had driven all the way down just to help me! Just seeing him pull up in his large moving capacity pick-up truck almost brought tears of relief to my eyes.

We loaded almost everything else up in my car and the bed of his truck and took off.

I was expecting the house to be cleaned and ready to move in.

What I was presented with was the contrary.

As I moved from empty room to empty room I became more and more frustrated. The corners of the bedrooms were covered in cobwebs. There was mouse poop in the bottoms of a few closets. The windows were covered in dirt, as well as the window sills. There were actually still dead flies in the tracks of the windows. The sink in my bathroom wouldn't drain properly and the hose to the sprinkler watering the dead grass had sprung a leak, soaking some of my stuff that I'd courteously stored on the porch.

This whole situation is a mess.

My roommate is refusing to pay our security deposit until the place has been properly cleaned. We have no place else to go so our stuff is in piles all over the house. Half of my stuff is out on the back porch covered by a monstrous tarp just waiting for some sketchy/inquisitive neighbor to rifle through and pilfer.

The cleaning people are coming back today to try to clean it again and I'm supposed to call the landlord tonight at 8 to talk again. She doesn't want to hire someone else because she's been working with these people for 20 years, but I'm like, "they aren't getting the job done and I refuse to pay rent for days that i have to live in filth"

Stay tuned for more developments.

New Shirt

I'm pretty sure I'm going to buy this shirt

Only in Utah

So Colin's sister found this article.

If you're one of those people who are too lazy to click links and see what the story is, I'll give you the low down.

Apparently this poor sucker is 31, living in Provo, UT and unmarried. His co-workers got together and decided they needed to take action. They've decided to pimp him out on a huge billboard to the side of the freeway. It's true! Check out the site:

www.datelance.com

Be sure to click on the video to see his reaction to seeing the big billboard with his face grinning back.

Ahhhh, where else would a group of people get together and decide that not being married by the ripe old age of 31 necessitates public advertisement?

Only in Utah.

D*** you JK Rowling!

Last night I was determined to finish the new Harry Potter book.

Exhaustion had other plans.

I passed out with only about 15 pages of the book left.

This morning after my shower I climbed back into bed and finished it up.

Now I'm melancholy and sad. It's ruined my whole day. The sky, even though it is is a brilliant clear blue, seems flat and dull. The fluorescent lights of my office beat down mercilessly on the tops of my keyboard caressing hands. The usually reassuring hum of my computer now mocks the emptiness of my chest cavity, the former repository of my heart.

JK Rowling is the DEVIL and has ensnared me with her poetic gift or story telling.

What the heck am I supposed to do with myself now!?!?!?

Smelly Girl

The last three times I've gone into the bathroom closest to my office the automatic air freshener has sent a puff of flowery scented chemicals into the air.

It's starting to make me feel self-conscious.

I must really smell bad to make the machine go off with such regularity.

Freaking out

Yesterday I started to freak out.

Holy cow! I'm moving up into Boulder this weekend and I start grad school in 3 weeks. I don't know where to go or who to talk to. I don't even know where my first class is or who my advisor will be or where the best place to have lunch on campus is.

I haven't picked my "first day of school" outfit yet.

I don't know where to go for my mandatory TA training.

I don't even know what class I'll be TA-ing.

What if it is something I've entirely forgot in the past two years?

How am I going to keep up with everyone else who hasn't taken a break from school?

AHHHHHHHHH

Birthday re-cap

This was the first birthday of my life that I've been dating someone.

I didn't know the protocol.

I just figured I would plan something for myself since that's what I've done every other year.

Boy was I wrong.

It is SOOOOO much more fun to have someone who cares about you plan something to make you feel special.

Friday night I took the ear doctor out to the Colorado Shakespeare Festival to see a Winter's Tale. I'd never read that play before, but it ended up being a great way to celebrate him finishing up his prelims for grad school.

When he dropped me off at my house it was about 12:15. He was the very first person to wish me a happy birthday. He also told me to be ready for him to come pick me up at 9am the next morning.

I complained because I wanted to sleep in late on my birthday, but he said that was when the festivities began, and there would be no further discussion on the point.

I turned, climbed upstairs and into my bed.

My eyes popped open at 6:45 am and I was too awake to fall back asleep.

I reached over and read some more of the new Harry Potter book. There is nothing I like more than waking up on Saturday and laying in my bed and reading.

I got ready and the ear doctor was at my door promptly at 9 am.

He handed me a pretty shiny bag from Nordstrom that had two little boxes inside.

With giddy, childlike excitement I opened the first.

It was a beautiful, green and blue necklace. It had big, chunky stones in it and looked very retro and awesome. The other box contained earrings to match.

He then scooped me up and set me down in his car and told me that we were going to pick up Sarah and Colin and go to breakfast.

Just so that you know, going out to breakfast is one of my favorite things to do. I love breakfast food.

When we got to Sarah and Colin's house I knocked on the door. As they opened the door to their new, very cute apartment, I was overwhelmed.

The ear doctor had arranged a surprise breakfast party for all my friends!

I was so overwhelmed with the feeling of being loved that tears started to well up in my eyes.

After a stirring round of happy birthday and my hearty breath of candle extinguishing air I went around the room giving everyone there huge and very sincere hugs. We all sat around until noon talking and laughing. I opened presents and pretty much felt like the coolest thing since sliced bread.

After everyone took off Sarah and Colin gave me their present.

It was a card.

When I opened it up I noticed there was an extra rectangular piece of paper in the card. I turned it over and saw that it was a ticket for the Tim McGraw concert up in Cheyenne, WY that night! They all told me to pack up my stuff because we were taking of for Fontier Days in Wyoming right away.

We drove up there and wandered around the fair for a while until the show started. We ate fair food, went of rickity carnival rides, looked at strange stands of Native American art, went on a search to find Sarah the perfect cowboy hat, and I almost bought a belt with my name engraved on the back.

Our tickets were for the standing room only section right up next to the stage. We packed ourselves into the huge mass of drunk cowboys and waited for the show to begin. Just as the opening band began, it started to pour. We were soaked to the skin, but having such a great time it just didn't matter.

When Tim came on stage everyone went crazy. There was pushing and shoving and chaos, but not the angry kind that you get at punk shows.....Everyone there was too happy for words.

The crowd belted out every word of every song, there was rampant dancing and just a great energy, despite the rain and cold.

After the show we walked back to the car and I thought about all the amazing birthday's I've had and realize that this was WAY up there in the ranks. I got to spend it with two of my best friends and my sweetheart. You really can't beat that!

All Hail Panera

I'm trying to be more frugal. Trying my hardest not to satisfy every whim I have. I'm trying to re-learn self control because in a month I will be going from cool, working professional woman, back to poor, starving student girl and I don't want it to be too much of a shock.

I'm starting out with the little things. Every morning I wake up and CRAVE a jamba juice before I head into work. The store is on my way so it doesn't require any extra time to get there. But, I realize that this is a silly little indulgence to the tune of $4/day. That is $4 a day that I could be saving so that I can go to the movies once in a while as a break from studying.

This morning I succumbed to the enticing lure of the jamba juice tornado and drove up to the store.

While I was ordering my cranberry breeze, a man walked up to me and told me to come over to the new Panera Bread after I got my juice.

I tilted my head slightly to the right, furrowed my brow and said, "I didn't think it was open until Saturday"

With a grin spreading across his face he said, "Yes, that is true, but today we are doing a test run for the bakery and all the new employees. Come on over and have a free bagel!"

Oh joy of joys! Oh wonder of wonders!

After procuring my juice I sauntered next door.

As I pushed the squeaky clean glass door open the warm smell of fresh baked bread washed over me. The lady standing next to the door handed me two green bills that each said $5 on them and suggested that I bring in a dozen bagels to work.

For a moment I was overwhelmed. I'd just been given $10 for walking into a brand new store of one of my favorite establishments!

In a dazed stupor I stepped up to the counter and ordered. Sure, they took FOREVER to get my order together, but I was just so happy to be receiving free food it really didn't matter.

After collecting my free goods I turned and walked out of the store.

I called everyone I knew who lived in the area to tell them about my good fortune.

It is only just now that I realized that I spent $4 to get $10 in return. What a good karma day!

A little question

Why is it that even though I love my job, have tons of really interesting work to do, I still want to take off early when my boss decides to take the afternoon off? Human nature? Or is it they way we're brought up in the US?

You know how in elementary school whenever the teacher called in sick and you had a substitute you just ran WILD?

Or in high school when your parents are out of town you throw a party and have friends over?

And now when my boss isn't here I find myself yearning to ditch work, go home and finish up Harry Potter.

No more office

I found out yesterday that when I start school in a month I'll be losing my office. I'll be doing the walk of shame back to a little hovel of a working space. Cube-land here I come.

I know I've only been working for 2 years and there are some people around here that have been working for 10 years and are still in cubes, but it's just hard to take that hit.

I'll miss my door.

I'll miss my walls that go all the way up to the ceiling, thereby preventing some annoying boss from casually sticking his head over and talking to me.

I'll miss my whiteboard hung at a height convenient to write on while standing.

But, I guess I'll struggle through.

It's just hard to take a step back like that on the corporate ladder.

Supporting the Retail Industry

When I was younger I lacked tact.

Not that I posses it in abundance now, but I have significantly improved.

Once my mom spent a lot of time making me a navy blue shirt covered in bright yellow stars and suns (I was very into this kind of thing at the time). It even had buttons in the shape of suns. I'm sure she spent the whole time making this shirt for me thinking of how much I would like it and see that every stitch was a physical manifestation of her care for me.

When she gave me the shirt I took one look at it, turned up my heartless little nose and refused to even try it on. I think I said, "thanks mom, but I will NEVER wear this thing"

Rude, huh.

She never got me another article of clothing again without first running it by me.

To this day she thinks I am fickle and high maintenance about my clothes (which, admittedly, I am a bit).

Anyway, this has experience has left me with the impression that everyone is picky about their clothes and has scared me from buying them as a gift for anyone except my little sister (I've pretty much got a lock on her style).

Well, last night I went out on a limb and did something I've never done before.

I got a shirt for the ear doctor as a congratulations present for finishing his first day of preliminary exams for his PhD.

It was really cool and on sale at Nordstrom, so I got it.

And, he loved it.

I've never bought clothes for a boyfriend before and I think that is a definite indication that this relationship is moved to the next level. The retail level. Pretty big deal, huh. (wink)

Ah, yes, I almost forgot

My dear friend over at the Pink Poodle has reminded me to remind you all that my 24th birthday is on SATURDAY! Hooray!

I could die happy

I did it!

I have achieved the impossible.

I actually made the lady at the DMV laugh while I was there getting my drivers license renewed.

Beat that!

Doing it by flashlight

There are only a few things in life that can make me feel better than what I did yesterday afternoon.

I think it is because it reminds me of being little when things were uncomplicated, simple, straightforward and predictable. I feel in control of my surroundings. I feel isolated from the rest of the world's omnipresent and incessant attempts to convince me that I should have a faster car or an ipod.

Yesterday after church I took my brand new copy of the Half Blood Prince down into my unfinished basement. The rest of the house was sweltering in the 90+ degree summer sun, but the basement was a refuge. It was cold and quiet. No one knew were I was or even looked for me. I left my cell phone in my bedroom with the ringer turned off. I sat down on a my folded up fouton mattress, propped up by a mountain of pillows. With a childlike innocence, I curled under the brand new bright purple afghan that my grandma crocheted for my birthday. A glass of milk and bowl of hot, buttery popcorn sat next to me while I indulged myself in the next fantastic adventure of Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

I've always liked to steal away with a book. When I was little, I lived in a house whose staircase was right in the middle of the floorplan. It was L-shaped. This stair configuration created a huge, very deep closet under the stairs. The closet was dark and kind of scary. My mom hung coats in the front half of it and used the back half to store quilts, a bowling ball, the glass top to a table we never used, and all sorts of other things that are rarely used, but can't be thrown away.

When I wanted to get away from my family I would slowly approach the closet door. Reaching my hand up to grasp the gold knob I'd hesitate and take inventory of where everyone was in the house. My little sister would be out playing on the swingset. My mom was in the sewing room working on her quilt and my dad was at work. Perfect for me to sneak into my favorite secret hiding spot.

With lightening fast speed I twisted the knob, opened the door as little as necessary for my small frame, slid into the darkness, and quietly closed the door behind me.

For a moment I was lost in darkness, with my face pressed up to my mother's long fur coat. I bent down and searched along the edge of the wall until my knowing fingers closed around the flashlight I'd placed there for just such a circumstance.

In a very Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe-esqe way I pushed aside the coats and entered my little cubby hole.

Carefully, I would step over the bowling ball and between the glass table top to the tall stack of quilts. My flashlight would quickly point the way to where I had left my copy of A Wrinkle in Time. Picking it up and settling in between the top couple of quilts was my ticket to explore a place that was all my own.

And that's what it made me feel like yesterday when I hid myself in the basement and read my new Harry Potter book.

Random thoughts for today

1. I saw a guy wearing a cast at work this morning. And guess what...no signatures on it. What a waste. If you have to wear a cast you might as well use it to show everyone around you how popular you are. I think even when I'm 65 if I have to wear a cast for some reason I'll have people sign it.

2. The drive into work this morning was particularly enjoyable. I drove, with my sunroof open, down a twisty county backroad. Sure, it takes longer, but there aren't any other cars going that way. The green leafy trees stretched out on either side of the road making a breezy beautiful canopy for me to drive on into my wonderful job. Add to that wonderful ambiance that Salt 'n Peppa's Shoop came on the radio and I could belt out "if looks could kill you would be an oozie, or a shotgun, bang, what's up with that thang?"

3. This evening we have a kickball against a team with a psycho lady as coach. She is a really hard core old woman (and I mean old here) who was yelling at her team when we last saw them. The ear doctor's goal is to pummel her team into the ground. He'll probably do it to if he isn't distracted by the throngs of groupies that follow us around everywhere because he is so famous.

4. Today I'm wearing a new t-shirt. It is kind of a blue green color with an abstract picture of a girl with long curly hair. The girl's picture is brown/red. I thought it was totally cute. Last night when I showed the ear doctor he said, "what, is that supposed to by you on your shirt?" Now I'm slightly paranoid that people are going to think that I'm promoting myself on my own shirt. Tacky.

5. The new Harry Potter book comes out this weekend. I'm so excited that the only way to describe it is giddy. I've had a copy on advance reserve since April. I'm a nerd.

IQ Quiz

Alright, here's a real brain buster for you all.

What do these three people have in common:

1. Katie Holmes
2. Cameron Diaz
3. Me

Yes, you guessed it....we are all dating celebrities.

I really feel like I can now related to the pressure of a being with a celebrity. It is just so hard to have a normal relationship with all of that money and flashing bulbs and money and screaming fans and money. It has really taken its toll.

The ear doctor was featured today in the Louisville, CO local newspaper. The story was about our kickball domination, and it even included a very charming picture of my lovely bf....complete with red Bruce Lee t-shirt and sweat headband.

I'm really so proud of him. All I can say is that I hope with this new found glory he still retains the ability to relate to the little people like me.

This fame might spoil everything.

Oh the horror.

Contraband

Stolen from a cool girl with the same name.

ten random things about me:
1. My hair is curly but I straighten it every day
2. I love going to rodeos
3. I think the best place to dance is the kitchen
4. I love to buy pants more than any other article of clothing
5. I really really really want an orange kitten
6. I can touch my tongue to my nose
7. I love going to the movies...Especially on a Saturday afternoon
8. I've found a way to cook acorn squash that I absolutely love
9. I'd rather walk than run
10. I make my bed every morning

places I've visited:
1. London, UK
2. Havasupai Indian reservation...the only place left in the US where mail is still delivered by donkey
3. Puerto Vallarta, MX
4. Grand Canyon
5. State College, PA
6. Austin/Dallas, TX
7. LA/San Diego, CA
8. Seattle, WA
9. My grandma's house

eight things I want to do before I die:
1. Set foot on every continent
2. See my kids happy and successful
3. Always spend time with my parents
4. Play fiddle in front of a packed house
5. Find the perfect gift for my sister
6. Be called "Aunt Katie" by someone other than my real nieces and nephews
7. Spend a month in Washington DC and see everything
8. See a broadway show in New York

seven ways to win my heart:
1. Leave something for me under my windshield wiper
2. When you visit my parent's house with me, make your bed
3. Send my grandma a thankyou note
4. Tell me I'm pretty
5. Make me laugh until I almost pee
6. Not only let me be goofy, but inspire me to be
7. Genuinely care about my friends

six things I believe in:
1. If you work hard, good things will happen
2. There is a bigger plan
3. God loves me...more importantly God loves everyone, regardless of how they act or what they believe.
4. Timing is everything
5. Never stop learning and growing
6. My sister is pretty much perfect

five things I'm afraid of:
1. Ticks....Deathly
2. The bathroom mirror in the dark
3. Being lonely
4. Tight places
5. My fly being down in front of people (wink)

four of my favorite items in my room:
1. Blankey
2. My bathrobe
3. My violin
4. My family photo

three things I do everyday:
1. Make my bed
2. Think of the ear doctor
3. Miss my friends I don't live near

two things I'm trying to do right now:
1. Pass the time until I can leave work
2. Figure out where I can scam some free candy

one person I want to see right now:
1. Genius

You know you really should work out more when...

you're still sore on Tuesday from what you did to yourself the Saturday before.

Last weekend my roommate threw a big BBQ. I was a little leary because it didn't really seem like she had anything planned, but I had a brilliant idea.

The ear doctor and I went to Wal-Mart and bought huge plastic drop cloths, staked them to the grassy hill in the little park next to my house, turned on two hoses, added a little Dawn dish soap and Viola! Instant giant slip 'n slide!

It was awesome. Most of the guys and a few girls (me included of course) started going down the slide in our clothes. Despite the fact that my pants pretty much slid right off showing everyone my cute purple Victoria's Secret underwear, everyone had a blast.

The party turned into 10 people sliding and about 10 people watching. The ear doctor and I had an evil plot. We had buckets of water and huge sponges waiting in the bushes. At the right moment we brought them out and soaked all the dry people. It was AWESOME!

I haven't had a waterfight that fun since last summer!

These straws look like poo

When my sister was little she used to line her change up in perfect rows. The quarters would be stacked 5 high all along the edge of her closet shelves.

When she made her bed the quilt on top would be run perfectly parallel to the sides of the bed, and the corners of the bed would line up within an inch to the centers of the square quilt blocks.

Maggie's carpet would always have straight, perfect lines after vacuuming and she would intentionally walk in specific areas so that it would keep that freshly vacuumed look.

This makes it sound like she's anal, but she's not. She just doesn't like change. Working on being more flexible will be her life's greatest challenge.

I always thought I was so much better at it than Mags, but turns out I was fooling myself.

This morning I went to the kitchen at work and made myself a cup of hot cocoa like I do every morning after I read all my email. I put the powder into the bottom of my white Styrofoam cup, and pulled back the tap on the coffee machine to let the blistering hot water fall.

As I reached my hand up to complete step 3 in the process I've been completing every morning for the past 2 years I hesitated.

Someone had switched my pretty, clean white stirring straws.

They had been replaced by brown and black straws.

After a moment of indecision, I grabbed 2 brown ones (I always use 2 as I feel they provide more stirring strength) and scurried back to my office.

Even now as I look down at my cup those two brown straws irk me.

I guess I can't handle change either.

Attack of the weird roommate (Part 2)

Last night I couldn't sleep.

I lay in my bed looking up at the ceiling wondering why, in a house that has air conditioning; I was lying on top of my down comforter just sweating.

In an attempt to allow the cooler breezes from the hallway to circulate through my room I'd decided to leave the door open.

The light stealthily bent its way from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into my dark and sweltering bedroom.

I glanced over at the blue glow from my cell phone to see that it was 1:30 am.

I was confused by the presence of the light and the slight stirring noises emanating from the room below.

After a few minutes the suffocatingly warm smell of pancakes lilted up to my room, although I don't know how they moved in the stagnant, heavy air.

A few minutes later the sound and smell of frying bacon accompanied the sugary sweet scent of maple syrup.

As I laid there in my bed yearning for a sweet slumber to descend I was totally confused.

My roommate had decided to get up in the middle of the night and make herself some breakfast.

She is so strange.

(Attack of the weird roommate Part 1)

Totally annoyed

So I went to Walgreens on my way home from the airport so I could get my photos developed from the wedding.

I specifically asked them to make CDs of my photos so that I could download all the pictures of my pretty sister onto my blog and share with my pals.

Did I get the CD?

No

Can I show you the pics?

No

Should I ever trust the 17 year old high school punk wearing a navy blue vest that only has 1 hour left of his work shift before he can go out and party with his friends?

No

Should I join the 21st century and get a really nice digital camera so I can just do all this stuff myself and not have to deal with developing film anymore?

Probably

Not a first child anymore

So Mags is married. She is somebody's wife. She now folds someone else's underwear and irons his shirts to be nice.

She's collecting cook books, dish towels and fine bone china while I'm looking through the banana republic catalog and thinking that I really should invest in fixing the molding on my car.

She's off on her honeymoon and I'm sitting in my poorly air conditioned office tying away while I avoid actually doing any work of value.

She's worried about saving enough money to move into her first little family apartment and I'm looking forward to moving into a cute, rundown rental house in Boulder.

She's thinking about the names she and Dan will pick for their first children and I'm wondering where I'll be going out to eat tonight.

For the first time I have no advice to give her about what she should do. For the first time she's doing something before I've done it.

I am so thrilled and excited for her to make all the mistakes and tell me how to do it better when I get my chance to try.

Being the second is AWESOME!

My Apologies

I know I've been a crap blogger this week, but I am just so excited to be going home tomorrow that I can barely function.

Seriously, this week at work might have been my all time low on productivity.

I can't wait to hop on that plane tomorrow and have it whisk me away back to a world where everyone around me thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread and I get to be child-like and happy and not have to worry about rent and car payments and organizing group outings.

I wasn't one of those kids who was ever really "too cool" for their family. True, I was slightly embarrassed when my dad showed up at my high school wearing the bathrobe that didn't even come to his knees to drop off food for my food drive, but I never really thought that they were a pain or stupid.

Maybe it's because my mom is so funny,

or that she loves to go to Costco and eat samples,

or that she always has a great suggestion of what book to read.

Maybe it's that my dad can become best friends with a perfect stranger...Especially in line at the grocery store,

or that when he laughs really hard he rubs his hands together so fast it would make Mr. Miyagi jealous,

or that his eyes tear up from "allergies" when he thinks about me or my sister.

Completely Mistaken

I thought over the past year I had made some real friends at work. We laugh and joke and get along really well all day long. We go out from drinks (I get diet coke) after work. I've met most of their wives and kids.

I was mistaken.

I've walked around all morning, led meetings, stood up in front of rooms of people and none of them bothered to tell me that my fly was down the entire time.

I hate it when reality hits me like that.

Wedding Music

I'm trying to put the finishing touches on the music for my sister's wedding in 2 weeks.

In an attempt to broaden the selection base, I decided to ask my new roommate if I could borrow the 5 CDs that she used for her wedding 2 years ago. She said sure, and I brought them into work.

OH. MY. GOSH.

This music sucks SO badly. Honestly, sitting here listening to this crap makes me feel like I am sitting in the waiting room of my dentist. It's even giving me that quasi nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Why do people feel like since its a wedding we should use every single cliché, sappy, "romantic" song ever created.

And why, for everything that is good on this earth, do people think that the Simpson/Lachey combo is perfect for an important event like this? In the 3 discs I've listened to there have been 3 from Jessica and 2 from 98 degrees. SICK.

Plus there is WAY too much Celine Dion in this world to bring her into your special wedding day.

There is so much good music in this world my mind just reels to think of why someone would ever choose this over-emotional garbage?

GGWG

In 3rd grade I was playing out in the field during recess. We found a ball and put together a little game of kick-ball.

During the first ups it was my turn to kick and my best friend's twin sister yelled something really mean to me. My feelings were so hurt that I started to cry and ran back into the building vowing to never play kick-ball again.

Last night I broke that vow.

I've been recruited into a kick-ball league.

Yep, you read that correctly, I am voluntarily joining a competitive team sport.

(pause for audible gasp)

Well, we had a double header last night. We lost the first game (barely), but it was ok because we all played really well. The ear doctor bought a pretty pink Disney princess bicycle horn to use as our mascot and motivator. You'd get a honk everything you did something great. I got honked twice!

Between games our coach brought Capri Suns and sliced us grapefruit (she meant to get oranges, but kind of blanked and got the wrong fruit).

The second game we played against a bunch of ex-frat boys and dominated them. It was poetic because they took one look at our team make mostly of PhD audiology students and thought they'd dust us off.

Hooray for us.

And kickball.

BTW our team name is GGWG which stands for "Glitter Girls and Warfare Guys." Yeah, we're totally hardcore.

Baby, now that I've found you I won't let you go

If you've ever been to Colorado and haven't seen red rocks, you really missed out.

Last night I went to see the Allison Krauss and Union Station concert at Red Rocks and it was amazing. Perfect weather, awesome venue, amazing musicians. They've been playing together for over a decade, and it shows. The music and dialogue were seamless. The seemed so comfortable performing in front of a massive audience. They didn't have an opening band, but they didn't need it. They played for 2.5 solid hours and I didn't look at my watch once. Just a great show.

The ear doctor and I arrived and hour and a half early to the show because we had general admission tickets. We ended up sitting 3rd row, slightly to the left of the stage center. They were amazing seats, and getting there early meant that we had time for one of my life's real passions...people watching.

Here is a list of the crazies that we saw last night:

• Robin Hood. A guy sitting the row behind us was wearing a green felt cap with a long beautiful brown ponytail. All that was missing was a pheasant feather and the sheriff on Nottingham.
• The wicked witch of the west. Huge crazy died red hair half pulled and balanced precariously on top of her head with a bright pink scrunchy, complete with brightly colored rainbow top, bright red eyebrows died to match and the shiftiest eyes I've seen in a long time.
• The Tie-dye family. Mom, dad, 2 year old son, Grandma and Grandpa all wearing tie-dye. It looked like they tried to coordinate so no one got lost...like disneyland.
• Visor boy. This awesome man was about 85 years old, completely decked out for the show with a visor tipped at a jaunty angle, and green slip-on canvas deck shoes. The really great thing about him was the look of complete confused joy on his face.
• Pioneer mom. Dressed in a long denim skirt and a bonnet hanging around her neck.
• Cowboy couple. Skinny, young looking guy with wranglers and an authentic white cowboy hat (complete with pheasant feather) heavily hanging his arm around this girl friend. She was also wearing wranglers, tight cleavage bearing top, perfectly accented with a huge Jack Daniels belt buckle.
• Crazy no shoes man. For some reason the guy just down the row from us felt the need to take off his hiking boots and socks and air out his stinky feet. While it is true, we were in an outside venue, it is still public and slightly gross to do that.

Wow

Jill has outdone herself again.

Please, please, PLEASE read this post.

alec baldwin, three dates and a nubbin

Unofficial member of the wedding party

Did I forget to mention that I caught the bouquet at Sarah's wedding? Well, I did.

This is my most hated part of a wedding reception. It's like those flowers make a B-line for my chest.

I caught my first bouquet at the tender age of 10. I was at the wedding of my dad's hair "stylist." I was wearing a pretty peach colored dress that had shiny hearts all over it. I was really excited that I caught it, but also a little embarrassed because everyone in the room looked at me and laughed.

The second one I caught was at a reception I crashed with some friends in college. I didn't know the bride, didn't know the groom, was there primarily for moral support of my friend who used to date the groom and was still not totally over him. When they made the announcement for all the single ladies to come up to the front of the room to catch the bouquet, I decided I'd just sit there because I didn't know anyone. My friend had other plans, she grabbed my hand with the grip of the incredible hulk and literally yanked me off my chair. I stood in the back with my arms crossed and waited for the fatalistic flowers to descend onto some poor fool. Well, the bride must have been a pitcher for the Yankees because those flowers torpedoed straight into my face. I think I actually scratched my cornea with a piece of babies’ breath.

My third brush with the symbol of impending nuptials was my favorite by far. I am not a jock. I am bad at sports and am proud to admit. My best friend in the whole world, Kathy, got married a year and a half ago. Her wedding was beautiful, small, on a quiet little lake in Washington. It was so intimate and personal. Everyone there felt special to have been invited. Well, the smallness of the wedding meant that when the time came to catch the bouquet there were only 3 of us in the requisite category of life: Me, her little sister (a collegiate basketball and volleyball athlete) and this stranger that Kathy's husband's cousin was dating. The three of us stood on the gravel drive below a beautiful wooden deck. Before the main event occurred, I turned to her sister and said, "look, we can't just let it fall to the ground because that would be tacky/bad luck so one of us has to catch it." She nodded in total agreement. We both slowly turned our heads up to see Kathy turning around for the backward hurl. As soon as the flowers left her hands, I could see that she hadn't given them enough gusto to really launch them all the way out to us. Kathy's sister wasn't making any effort to get it, and neither was the stranger, so I fully extended to get the flowers, slipping on the gravel and almost face planting with the entire wedding party watching.

On Friday I caught my fourth wedding bouquet. I was standing in the back again. Sarah threw it right in between Ja and I. We both moved away from the flying object of fate. I felt bad because there was no one behind us to catch it, so I reached out my hand and tipped it...making it mine. It fell to the floor, and I bent over to pick it up. I guess the entire room turned to the ear doctor to see his response. He turned bright red. The flowers were beautiful, so I really didn't mind too much catching it.

Now that I think about it I've caught the bouquets for my two best friends in the entire world. Even though I think "what it means" is kind of lame, I'm glad I got their flowers. I'll always remember the days they both were married and they'll have some pretty great memories of me.

I am an uber-nerd

Last Thanksgiving I flew to Utah to be with my family. On the way back to Denver I had quite a few more bags than I left with, and was short on space. I was wearing my huge navy blue pea coat and realize that I didn't want that bulky mass of wool around me for the flight. I stuffed it into a soft sided bag. I also decided that I was going to sleep the whole flight, so I wouldn't need my glasses. In one tragic, rash, thoughtless, swoop I bundled my glasses in my coat and shoved it into my soft bag, checked it at the counter and left to undergo the full body cavity inspection at airport security.

At Denver I waited patiently at the baggage turnstile. As my bag dropped harshly down onto the moving conveyor belt I felt a strange foreboding start to rumble in the pit of my stomach. I unzipped the bag, and there, on top, was a nice little flyer from the TSA informing me that my bag had been randomly selected to be opened, have the contents spilled out and had an employee perform the Mexican hat dance on my belongings.

Long story short....They broke my glasses right down the middle.

Fast forward to this morning. I woke up and my eyes were completely covered over by what I refer to as "eye boogers." After flushing my eyes with warm water to clear them away I looked up at myself in the mirror. Now I've never been stoned before, but this morning was my chance to see how I would look if I ever decided to indulge myself in some mary jane. Believe me...it was not pretty.

I decided that I absolutely could not wear my contacts today, but that left me in a pickle.

No contacts, broken glasses, 20 minute drive into work.....what a dilemma.

Suddenly I had an inspiration.

I raced down to the kitchen and picked up the tape. I proceeded to huge a huge strip of tape to hold my glasses together. Yes, I was sporting this look into work today:

The really nerdy part about this story is that I was laughing at myself the entire ride into work.

Pretty dorky if you ask me.

Why most women like Sex & the City

(Don't jump all over me and think I'm a bad, bad sinner for this post until you read it through.)

Sure, they're scandalous. And talk about and do things that 30 years ago would have completely ostracize them from any decent society. But, there is something magnetic about the show. I can only really speak for myself, but I can't be the only one out there that feels this way.

It isn't the scandal that we're drawn to. I'm sure most people could go their entire life without ever seeing some of the crap on that show.

The thing that is so electric and intensely satisfying for women is the relationships between the 4 women. Seeing how they each have individual relationships with each other, while still maintaining a top level friendship is very easy for the viewer to relate to.

There is just something about seeing 4 girlfriends interact that is so appealing.

It is even the draw for the movie out right now called The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

Last night Sarah, Amy, Ja and I went out. It was Sarah's last night as a single girl and we went to eat a very late dessert. We talked and laughed and for a moment I stopped, took in the moment, realized I would never forget where I was and who I was with. It was a movie setting and it made me realize how lucky I am to be one of those girls. And so, in honor of my 3 girlfriends, I've decided to do a character sketch of the 4 of us.

Sarah is the ballsy, gutsy, strong willed, always pushing one. She is the person who works out with a vengeance, who studies with a vengeance, who loves with a vengeance. She is strong and goofy and beautiful. Sarah is the most reliable person you'll ever meet. If she says she'll be somewhere or do something, she is there. On time. With bells on. She'll tell you how it is even if maybe you weren't really wanting to hear it.

Amy is crazy! Last fall she dated her husband for a month, was engaged for 3 weeks and was married. She is so much fun it is really hard to believe she is for real. She is always up for the next adventure and ready to take on whatever. She has had so many interesting experiences in her life that have formed her into the person she is. She can't tell a joke without messing it up, never remembers directions, and is one heck of a longboarder. She is so funny and loud and makes me laugh until I think I might wet my pants.

Ja is quiet....when you first meet her. She is so laid back it is almost unnerving. She is always good natured and I don't think I've ever seen her without a smile on her face. She can tell a great story that puts you right in the action. She is loyal and honest and always agreeable. She makes the best chocolate chip cookies this side of the Mississippi. She has a great sense of style and always looks like a fashion plate.

And then there is me. I'm the planner. I put things together and make sure everyone gets there on time. I'm the conservative, straight laced, inexperienced one. I'm loyal to a fault. I'm not ever the person who gets a crazy idea into their head that starts an adventure, and I'm the only one whose never hiked a 14er. I'm the friend that always tells the others to buy that pair of jeans that you maybe can't afford, but looks so amazing on you that you'd really be a fool not to get them.

And that's us. The 4 of us.

Wedding Bells

Right now Sarah, my best friend here in Colorado, is having her hair done for her wedding. She and Colin are getting married in a very small, private ceremony at 12:30 today. I am so proud of the people they are and who they will become. I feel honored to be their friend.

Tonight they are throwing a huge BBQ open house at her parents house, which I will attending in my freshly pressed white linen pants (hooray)!

Tomorrow they are having a big ring ceremony for all of their extended family and friends to share in and then a lunch reception. So classy, so their style.

The power of words

I've made a startling realization. I'm kind of surprised by how long it has taken me to learn this. I always knew that writing and words were influential, but I never knew that MY words could do so much.

I love reading because it takes me to places I've never been. Not only remote locations on the globe, but distant ideas and concepts I've never considered before. My favorite authors are those who made me think...who challenged my generally accepted assumptions. The ones who not only made me laugh, cry, and feel ill, but also scare me by making me stop and re-evaluate things. Introspection inducers.

I figured they had the ability to elicit those responses because they were Writers. Writers with a capital W. People who were talented enough to have someone pay them to Write.

I was shocked to realize that even though I am not a Writer, I still have the ability to move people. Granted, my most recent brushes with this phenomenon have been less that desirable, they have a least shown me that even this lowly engineer has the ability to inspire, motivate, impel, evoke, stir, encourage, enthuse, arouse and induce genuine emotion in my readers.

Pretty heavy responsibility, no?

Internal gangrene

This morning I was thinking about my friend.

We'll call him Coop for anonymity.

Coop is awesome. Lately I've been kind of ignoring him and while I was blowing my hair dry, a thought crossed my mind. I wonder if Coop is annoyed/mad at me for not calling or speaking to him in probably 2 months?

Immediately I put that thought out of my head because Coop is the kind of person who never gets hurt. He can let anything go. In the past 4 years I've known him I don't think I've ever seen him let someone else's carelessness or thoughtlessness get to him. The result is that he is always happy, low key, and SO much fun to be around.

It got me thinking.....

Why are some people just able to let everything go and other let things fester?

The polar opposite to Coop would be me, during college. I made a friend there who had a profound effect on me which still lingers this day.

When I first met her I found her was hilarious. She had a sarcastic side that just cracked me up.

Over the three years that I knew her there were a few times where she was scathingly mad at me. Even after I apologized profusely, and she said it was ok, it just wasn't. I was unable to sincerely ask for forgiveness. Because she felt the insincerity in my request, it was hard for her to acquiesce. There would always be a lingering coldness between us.

As a result of this tension that I created, I was not a very happy person. I felt like all of my friends were mean, selfish, and cruel. I was ready to launch into a full fledged fight with someone over nothing because I wasn't over the harsh feelings I had from the last argument. Everything built on the past misunderstandings. The festering grew exponentially because I never gave it a chance to air out. When I graduated I realized that it really wasn't the fault of everyone else, it was mine.

Over the past 2 years I've made significant effort to move closer to Coop. The result is that I am happier and a way better friend. Now I see that I can never spend my life with someone who is unable to truly forgive and forget my mistakes. I will undoubtedly mess up. I'm not perfect and it is inevitable.


PS I am truly sorry to anyone whose feelings I hurt in writing this post. My intention was to demonstrate my personal progress and goals, not defame anyone on the internet. Just as I see the growth in myself, I realize that others grow and change. I am happy to recognize that change in anyone.

Party Throwing Pro

Just so you all know, I have a strange and un-natural fear of throwing parties. I feel like I am SO bad at it. I get really worked up planning and getting the food perfect that I am just frazzled. Then, when everyone shows up I am so tense and worried that not everyone will have a good time. I flit around the room trying to get everyone there into an interesting conversion.

I always take things personally. If people don't show up to my party I think it is because they think I'm lame. Oh how I wish I could just realize that they probably just had something else to do.

Anyway, I am happy to announce that I threw to AWESOME parties this weekend! Hooray for me!

The first was Saturday morning. I threw Sarah's bridal shower and it was so much fun. Everyone had a blast, my decorations were ooh-ed and ahhh-ed over. The food was perfect. And even though the weather was crappy, everyone still had a great time.

The second was a dinner party last night. I invited 16 people and 14 showed up, so that was great. It was really fun because it was a bunch of people who didn't really know each other or hang out and they all got along really well and made plans to hang out together sans moi. Pretty perfect if you ask me.

After dinner everyone just kind of sat around and talked. Somehow all the guys migrated to the TV and watched Simpsons and all the girls migrated to the front room and we chatted about all kinds of stuff. I had to laugh at the situation and how totally stereotypical the whole thing was.

Happy Anniversary!

Today is my one year blog anniversary! Hooray!

Self-diagnosing

Something weird happened to my personality while I wasn't watching. It just sneaked up on me and caught me totally unawares. I

think I may have become a hypochondriac without even knowing it.

Let me prove it to you.

About 2 weeks ago I had a strange, roundish, red mark on the inside of my left bicep. It wasn't black or blue, purple or green so it didn't match the rest of the bruises covering my body from falling into the hole (a whole different story). My immediate response was to go to WebMD and look at skin cancer. I actually thought I had a little melanoma growing on my arm that had appeared over night.

The second evidence of my new attribute comes to me today.

Yesterday afternoon my throat started hurting. Pretty badly. Last night I felt hot and achy all over. The ear doctor brought me pudding and popsicles and watched Gilmore Girls with me (even though he thinks it is lame). This morning I woke up and it still hurt. As soon as I got into work I hit up WebMD and I've decided that I either have early stages of Strep throat or tonsillitis. I even took my little LED flashlight into the bathroom to look down my throat for white spots on my tonsils.

It wasn't cancer, and this is probably nothing, but I'll keep you posted.

Why, for the love of everything that is holy, why?

Why must every generation have a style that just sucks?

• Bell Bottoms
• Crimped Hair
• Acid washed, peg-legged jeans
• Hammer Pants
• Coulotts
• Sagging jeans
• Pleated Plaid Skirts with thigh highs and Mary Janes

You'd think we had experienced enough to not fall back into the horrible trap. Alas, we have allowed ourselves to succumb to the age old temptation of bad fashion.

I don't want to offend anyone who has been led astray, but this new wave is just bad. It is horrific.

I can almost hear you saying, "what is she talking about?"

Feast your eyes on the most recent atrocity that plagues this generation of high school year books:

I call this a "boob shirt" because there is just no other way to describe it. Is it a sweater? Is it knit? Is it a t? Who knows?

I just hate this look, and I am even more deeply worried because I pulled this picture off the Banana Republic website. My store. The place I turn to for solace and reassurance that teen-aged immodesty isn't taking over the world has completely let me down on this point.

It is a sad, sad day.

Who has the trumpet for my walls of Jericho?

Why didn't my sister get it?

She is fully able to fall head over heels for someone. She can just let go and dive right into what could potentially be total heartache.

When she told me that she'd found the person she wanted to marry after only having known him for 3 months I thought she was crazy. More than that, I was terrified for her because I felt certain that she would get her heart so broken that she wouldn't be able to cope. In my mind, there was no way that she was going to be able to keep a long distance relationship alive for 8 months with a person she only knew for 3 months. It just seemed ludicrous to me.

But you know what, she was fine. She did it with grace and style and just a few little breakdowns. She made the choice to let him have her heart and it all worked out for her.

I just can't do that.

It's not like I've really been seriously hurt before. I don't have excessive amounts of past relationship baggage weighing me down and dragging me along in the dirt. But, I act like I do.

For some reason I just can't stop protecting my heart from getting hurt.

Since the ear doctor bought his plane ticket to come up to my sister's wedding in July, I've been acting like a psycho. I am hyper-sensitive about everything. I constantly analyze where our relationship is going and it is ruining the great thing that the ear doctor and I have built.

My defenses are up so high it is virtually impossible for him to not trigger one of them.

At least I can realize what is going on right? Isn't admitting you have a problem the first step to overcoming it?

Unexpected Happiness!

So today is payday, so today is the day I pay all my bills online.

I clicked on my Farmer's Insurance monthly online bill and was shocked to see it was $80 less than usual!

Hooray! Confusing!

I called up my agent and he said that they'd just decided to lower my rates for the next 6 months.

Pretty cool, huh!

Especially since during the last 6 months I've earned myself a little speeding ticket. I guess they decided to let that one slide or something.

Coolest Blog Yet

Unlike a lot of people my age, I really like older people.

They fascinate me.

They've lead lives 3 times longer than my own and it just amazes me to hear stories they tell and think about what will transpire in my own life before I get to a similar point.

I could sit for hours listening to my grandpa tell his stories about growing in up in a small mining town in Utah, or the times he spent working at the steel factory.

Listening to my grandma talk about how poor she was when she was little during the depression and war is so intriguing to me.

Well, I found someone who is doing that for me on the internet.

Let me introduce you to Abraham from Brookville, Ohio.

I love his blog(s).

No problems

Flip flops

Loose fitting skirts

A good book

Some great friends

A diet coke with a lime

No work, boss, or appointments

No expenses

Sunny day

Light breeze

Sound of crashing waves

Smell of a grilling meat

Jokes that are just funny

No drama

Skinny day

Favorite songs on repeat

Banana popcicles

Great skin

The sun sinking into the ocean

A pick up game of frisbee

The smell of sun screen

New pedicure

Cell phones off

A guitar around a campfire

Ripe watermelon

Ahhhh, summer

Why I don't call into the radio

This morning on my way into work the local country radio station gave away $10,000 to the 12 person who called in with a birthday on August 4.

The winner sounded like he was about 80 years old. He was retired and lived in the next town over.

The radio personalities (read: most annoying people on the planet) kept talking really fast and loud and the old guy was completely overwhelmed.

Just before they went away to break for a commercial they asked him, "how do you spell country?"

He quickly replied, "K-Y-G-O" (the name of the radio station)

I've heard this kind of thing about a million times. After they give away some fabulous prize they always ask the recipient who gave them the gift. The recipient is then supposed to say their name back to them.

This is the entire reason I don't call in.

I am about 99% sure that if I ever actually won something and they asked me that fatal question at the end of my time on the air I would completely botch the whole thing by either forgetting which station I called entirely, or even worse, say the name of the other station.

This paralyzing fear stops me from calling in. Too bad because I could really use $10,000.

A little Peter Pan Syndrome for the Morning.

What's so wrong with acting like a kid?

Yesterday afternoon the ear doctor called me up and asked me if we had made plans yet for that evening. I said no and asked if he'd come up with a fabulous idea.

He informed me that yes, he had a great idea. He found out that if we were down at the box office in Denver 1 hour before the show we could get 50% off tickets to see Grease.

I was stoked! I love shows!

I got down there and found out that we were meeting up with a schoolmate of the ear doctor's and her boyfriend. That was great by me because I really like her a lot.

The show was great and Frankie Avalon even sang Beauty School Drop-out just like the movie. After the show I was so excited and just happy. I started acting kind of goofy (dancing down the stairs like I was in an old time movie). The ear doctor totally joined in the fun (another reason he is GREAT for me), but the other two just kind of stood there.

From their looks I kind of wondered if they were slightly embarrassed to be with us. Maybe they thought it looked like we were having fun and secretly they wish they could be dancing around with us. They seemed torn between two voices inside themselves. Their heart seemed to be saying, "oh look, friends I can go out and play with" but their head was saying, "I'm in a public place and I am an adult. Adults don't do that." In the end they watched at a distance and smiled at us. They just couldn't break loose from their stiff socially accepted behaviors.

It made me sad for them because there is no way they had as much fun as I was having.

I looked around at all the little girls in poodle skirts jumping and laughing and enjoying life. Then I looked around and compared them to the adults in long black dresses with high heels and ties.

At what point do we trade in childlike innocence and pure unadulterated joy over the simple things for "sophistication" and "refinement."

Why does growing up have mean to let that fire and spirit within die (or at least smolder)?

It just isn't fair.

Why I love my friends

Whoever thought this was a good idea has another think coming.

What you don't see is that I'm sitting right next to him and when the flame got to hot for him to bear, he spit all of those flaming little guys right into my brand new lime green Prana climbing pants.

Luckily, the pants came out unscathed.

Therefore, so did Derek.

Also, I just think this photo is beautiful.

Alan, in all his glory:

Soft Scrub Anyone?

In the last 6 years I've lived with 30 different people and NONE of them have ever made my bathtub this dirty this quickly.

Seriously, last night I came home and was appalled by the filthiness that has overtaken my tub.

I don't know what she can be doing in there that makes it so disgusting, but it looks like she goes out, rolls around in the mud, comes in (without loosing a gram of dirt), and dumps it all into our drain.

Also, we've only been there 2 weeks and the drain is clogging. I hate hate HATE standing in a tub of dirty, soapy water becuase the flow in from the shower is faster than the drain out on the ground.

How is that possible?

I lived with a Tongan girl who had huge curly hair down to her butt and she only clogged up the drain every other month.

It is an enigma.

I'm thinking of calling her Pig Pen like the dirty kid from Charlie Brown.

The Pursuit of Excellence

Sweat rolled down the back of my unprotected neck as I squinted my eyes to focus on the climber 50 feet above me. Shaking with exhaustion, he paused to cool his feet in his own shadow, but it was to no avail. The sun had just reached its apex and beat down mercilessly on his bare and glistening shoulder blades. He reached up to place the last piece of equipment.

He was the third of our group to attempt to lead the trad route we'd chosen for the morning. The other two climbers had much more experiences, but were unable to finish out the route. They'd already placed hundreds of dollars worth of gear, and someone had to get to the top to clean it from the side of the cliff. He was the youngest of our group of climbers and had never lead a trad route before. As he got to the top, he called to his older brother below. With a forced confidence in his voice he said, "I don't trust myself up here."

From below I caught my breath. Now he was dangling 75 feet above an asphalt road and was beginning to question himself.

Slowly and calmly, his brother answered back, "Well, that's too bad. Sometimes we get ourselves into situations where we just have to keep going."

After a brutal hour long battle in the 104 degree sun he at last unclipped his daisy chain and was able to repel down the route, cleaning gear as he descended to a group of proud and impressed peers.

He had more than defeated a great challenge; he had earned the respect and admiration of a group of people more than a decade older than himself.

Just another small demonstration of the need to either push yourself/or be pushed into excellence.

Read this post

GFF has done an amazing job today and I think you all should read it.

LIFE

Moab

Tomorrow morning I'm taking off for a fun-filled long weekend adventure in Moab, UT.

I'm really excited about it because it is my annual "hang out with the BYU engineers" weekend.

In school I had a really close circle of friends. We took every class together, studied all day long, hung out on the weekends...did pretty much everything but live together. It was awesome and I consider each of them my very best of friends.

This group of friends isn't like one of those big impersonal groups where you have the same kind of casual relationship with everyone. I have very personal and special moments that I remember with each person in the circle.

I'll start with Bryan, because he demands to be first. Actually, his goal in life is to be second place because that means he can never stop striving to be better. If you're never number one at something you can never stop. His heroes are Burt Rutan and Francisco d’Anconia. He always tries to figure out the absolute best way to do things and when he has an opinion about something it is set. Last year I almost killed him when he tried to tell me how to cook hamburgers.

Next comes Alan. Alan is huge....physically, intellectually, spiritually. He is the complete package. He is funny and sincere. He was the only person in our circle that I ever had a real crush on. One time he took me out to a canyon and we shot his guns. The first time that I ever really talked to him we were in a machine shop. I was watching a lathe I'd programmed and he was watching his drill press across the room. His coolant was splashing all over the place, so he decided to hold up a towel so he wouldn't get sprayed. Well, he wasn't paying attention and the towel got caught in the machine. He could have lost a hand.

Brittany and I could have been best friends and the greatest of roommates. We both love to read (she does it more than I), love to shop, and loved the same boy. It is only now that I truly regret some things and happened during college. If I had known then what I know now I really think things would be different. She didn't get to come to the annual trip last year and I am so excited that she's coming to this one!

James. JT. Action Jackson. He was my confident. He was my friend and ally. There are so many special moments that I share with James that I just can't even begin to describe them. I barely knew him, but decided to prank call him out of the blue one night. My junior year all of my roommates were sitting around and I told my roommate Anth to call him and pretend that she was a girl who had a huge crush on him in his religion class. She was working him over pretty well until he figured out what was going on. It was a great way to forge such a strong friendship.

An entire year of my life is wrapped up in Derek. He was the first person I said "I love you" to. He was the first person to break my heart. I am so glad that we are able to be such good friends still.

Becky is a riot. The weird thing about her is that she ended up being roommates with one of my best friends from high school. It is a quirky small little world. The most vivid memory I have with Becks is when I went over to her house one Sunday morning. We made blueberry pancakes and just talked for hours. She told me about this guy that she didn't really like but who liked her a lot and she was considering hooking up with. Fast-forward a year and they were married. Those memories are priceless.

Things are looking better

Well, I learned a lot in the last 24 hours.

1. Don't pretend to fight. Ever.
2. Be patient and try to not to over react.
3. Keep other people's feelings in mind.
4. Situations are only as bad as you make them in your own mind.
5. Photo corners are great to hold pictures in a scrap book, but don't really work in a picture frame on your wall.
6. Watching the dance sequence from Napoleon Dynamite is funny no matter how many times you've seen it before.
7. I miss good huckleberry ice cream from MaryLou's in Spokane.
8. Calling your mom when you're upset is still ok, even at 23.
9. Just hearing my little sister's voice can make me smile and calm me down.
10. Letting other people be in charge really isn't that hard.
11. Don't wait until 6 pm to eat something. Have breakfast, and lunch before then.
12. Be flexible when planning a trip.
13. Everyone has sensitive spots and if you really care about someone you protect those spots, you don't ram your finger into them.
14. My daddy rules. He called me this morning to make sure I am alright.

My new house

So this post might reveal just how strange I am, but I don't care because I really need to write about this.

This weekend I moved into a new house. I painted my bedroom bright green and everything in it just reeks of my personality. The rest of the house is froofy and smells like girly burning candles, but when you walk into my room it is totally different. It is my haven.

"A haven from what?" you may be asking yourself. Well, let me go on.

I am LDS (Mormon). I went to BYU which is a really conservative LDS private college. In the past 6 years I've lived with 30 people....All of which have also been of my faith. There are a few characteristic behaviors of a typical LDS person: we don't drink, smoke, or have sex out of marriage.

These three things combined mean that I have never experienced a few things.

I've never woken up in the morning and had to wait for my roommate's boyfriend to get out of my shower, making me late to work.

I've never had to deal with coming home and seeing my new roommate wearing nothing but a towel, standing outside her second storey window on the roof of my house having a smoke.

I've never seen people downing a fifth of whiskey at 2 in the afternoon in the bedroom next to mine.

These are all little gems of experiences that I've had in the past 2 days of living at my new place.

I know that Monica isn't LDS and that means that she will be doing things different from me. I fully understand that different isn't bad and I am totally fine with people living their lives the way that makes them happy. I really have no problem with that.

The problem I do have is with Erica. When she was showing me the house I assumed that, since she is also LDS, she shared the same standards that I do. I had my mind set for the way that things were going to be.

Well, after this one weekend I realize that my perception was pretty off and now I have to deal with it.

I'm not being judgmental. I don't care what she does. I DO care that things aren't as they seemed when we made this arrangement. I feel deceived and that is just a crappy way to start out a new living situation.

Silly, lied to fool

That's me.

I've been deceived.

I thought I understood my world, the people and things in it, but I was SO wrong.

What a naive little dope.

I thought the guy I was dating was classy, cultured, refined and intelligent.

He is all of those things, but he is also a CLOSET GAMER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Classes ended for him last week. To fill his time he has turned the number one pastime of adolescent males. He has spent multiple hours staring at his laptop screen playing a video game. He is addicted. He can't put it down. His life has begun to revolve around 4 things: eating, sleeping, being wonderful to me, and GAMING!

I don't know what to do.

My world is turned upside down.

Help.

My two favorite TV people

Uchennna and Joyce are officially my favorite people ever. I think she looks even better with the shaved head. I wish them all the luck in the world with the baby!

I'm a safety kid

Yesterday my boss's boss took our entire team out for drinks after work. As I sat there sipping my diet coke with a lime, I was surprised by how much I was enjoying myself. I was having a great time sitting there, surrounded by 8 middle aged men, talking about the headache of owning property, the best places for fly fishing, and the ridiculousness that there is no national college football tournament like there is for basketball.

I hung out there until 6ish and then had to take off. This weekend I'm moving into my new house and I decided to paint the walls lime green (v. cute). As I turned into my new neighborhood I realized that I had to pee. Urgently.

I threw my car into park, ran up my driveway, and shoved my key in the lock. I haven't figured out the tricky subtly of this new door yet so as my keys jangled back and forth I said a silent little prayer, "Oh Lord, please let this lock give so that I don't wet myself and have to explain this all to my new roommates."

Mercifully, the little tumblers in the lock heard my prayer and slid open. Flinging the door open, I made a mad dash upstairs to my bathroom.

Sweet release.

(Why do I wait so long? I'm a grown up for heaven sake.)

Anyway, when I left my porcelain benefactor I was met by my new roommate, Monica. She was pale and here eyes were the size of two silver dollars.

She told me that I had freaked her out because there is some mass murderer running around Boulder. I guess he's killed 8 people so far and the police don't know who or why he's doing it. She thought I was the murderer breaking into her new house coming up the stairs to get her. I thought it was kind of funny to be scared of that.....at the time.

I hung around the house painting, trying to hang my curtain rod, and watching the season finale on Amazing Race with the ear doctor until about 11:30. Since my bed isn't over at the new house yet, I had to drive back to Boulder to sleep.

I pulled around the back of my condo and parked. I opened the door and was immediately frightened by the silence. There was no music from the neighbors, not a light in the house was on. The thought of going up to my door which is blocked from view by a high wooden fenced in patio FREAKED me out.

That dark corner was the perfect place for the mass murderer to find me.

I sat in my driver's seat with my door partially opened and considered my options.

I could call the ear doctor, but then I'd have to wait for him to drive up here and the chances of the murderer actually being there were small so it would be a total waste of his time.

So, I decided to fake like I was talking on my cell phone.

I didn't call anyone, I just held my phone to my ear and pretended to have a conversation.

I figured that a mass murderer wouldn't get me because then the person I was talking to would hear my scream and figure something was wrong and call the cops. Smart, huh?

But don't they say that murderers and rapists always target people on cell phones because they aren't fully paying attention to what is going on around them?

Plus, if someone is deranged enough to sit there and wait for me outside my condo, do you honestly think they're going to let a phone call stop them?

Plus, my phone drops signal ALL THE TIME so most likely the person on the other end of any of my calls would just think my phone cut out and go to bed, so really my tactic wouldn't work anyway...

but the scary guy doesn't know that.

he he he

A Fresh Idea

Last night I went to the Fillmore and saw The Shins show. It was incredible. I didn't really know any of their music, but by the end of the night I was a total fan.
The Fillmore in Denver is a great place to see a high energy show. It's basically a stage at one end of a roller-skating rink. There are crystal gothic looking chandeliers that glow purple. Almost everyone in the venue stands on flat ground and looks up at the stage. Consequently, you end up standing right behind the one 6'5" crazy kid with a fully picked out afro.

As I was standing at the show moving from left to right to get a view of the bass player and then the lead singer I was struck with an inspiring revelation.

There should be one area, right in front of the band that has a recessed floor. Only the true and hardcore fans are allowed to be down there. The people who've seen the band a million times, listen to their music on repeat and just love it. Perhaps to gain entry you have to show a photo of your pet that you named after a member in the band. Either that or answer an insanely hard question about the band's origins.

After that, the rest of the floor is separated into height zones. Anyone under 5 feet section is first, followed by 5'0" to 5'5", then 5'5" to 6', then over 6'.

This way everyone can have a good view of the show.

Plus it will reduce the amount of hot tall guys picking up on midgety girls. That annoys me. Let the tall people stick together and the short people stick together. ;)

My new obsession

Colin forwarded me this quiz and it has been occupying every minute since it came to my nimble little fingers.

I've figured out answers so that all but one question is satisfied (which pretty much means I still have the majority of it wrong).

If you like mind benders, give it a whirl.

Ode to Joy

This is my phone

I got it 3 years ago when I first moved out to Boulder to be an intern between my junior and senior year of college (3 years ago).

I love this little phone.

I love that it isn't in color and can't take a picture.

I love that it lights up bright blue and can be used to spot my door's lock at night.

I love that it is completely silent when text messaging so that I can txt anywhere without embarrassment.

Yesterday I was doing laundry and talking to my mom on the phone. I was loading my towels into the machine with my right hand and using old lefty to hold the phone. Our conversation ended, I took the phone from my ear, pushed the little icon of a red phone and promptly threw it into the washing machine.

I stood there stunned and a little confused for a fraction of a second holding my dirty pink towel in my right hand before I realized what had happened.

Horrified, I dove straight into the washing machine, water up to my armpit attempting to reuses my little love.

I drew it out and frantically dried it off.

Heinous thoughts flew through my mind.

"I've lost all my numbers" and "I can't call grandma for Mother's day" and "I have no other alarm clock"

Much to my chagrin, the phone was unresponsive to any attempts at revival. I administered cell phone CPR by rhythmically pushing the power button and reinserting the battery. 15 reps on the button, 2 slow complete battery changes, 15 reps, 2 changes, 15 reps, 2 changes. Nothing but a flat lining of my hopes and dreams.

I came to the realization that my phone was gone.

At first I was depressed. This stage was agony. There was no light in the world, nothing made sense. The sky filled with gray clouds and I had to direction.

Next, I was angry. Why don't cell phone makers include a waterproof seal in their design?!?! Honestly, it wouldn't be that hard to make a rectangular rubber gasket that would lock out any potentially hazardous substance.

This morning I woke up and had accepted the loss.

I started to realize that maybe it was time to get a new phone anyway. The battery couldn't hold a charge longer than 6 hours, the screen sometimes would inexplicably go dark, or blank. I had no reception at Sarah's house.

I went in to circuit City on my break and lamented with the Verizon rep. She spelled out my options, none of which were really appealing. When I asked her about my numbers she sadly informed me that if I can't turn it on, she can't get my numbers.

I was morose, until...

She took the phone from my sad clutches and pushed the power button.

Miracle of miracles, the little blue light came on. My name popped up and my numbers were all there.

Little phone has returned to me.

I will never take it for granted again.

You really gain perspective when things like this happen.

I've never been so proud

This is my best Colorado friend, Sarah



Today she graduated Summa Cum Laude from CU with a BA in Biochemistry.

She invited me to go to the ceremony and be there with all of her family. After all the announcements had been made about the graduates with honors, they presented special awards to the graduating class. The first one they bestowed was an award for the student who had outstanding performance as an undergrad and the most potential for research in pursuing a further degree.

When they announced that the award was offered to Sarah our entire table audibly gasped with shock. She did know anything about the award.

As she went up to the front of the room to receive her certificate and $1,000 worth of chemistry software I started to tear up. I've never felt so proud of any of my friends in my entire life.

She truly is No. 1!

In pursuit of the perfect schedule

I'm getting really excited about school again. This morning I went online and tried to create what I thought my schedule might look like for the fall.

Creating the perfect school schedule is a fine art honed by 4 years of serious practice.

Criteria for the perfect schedule:

1. No class starting before 9
2. No class ending after 4
3. No class on Friday (not a very large component because it seems impossible in engineering)
4. No class between 2-3 any day.
5. No breaks between classes longer than 1 hour.
6. At least one class not in the same building (forces me actually moving)
7. Latest class on Friday ends no later than noon.

So far my best case schedule fulfills items 1, 2, 4, 5 (on Tuesday/Thursday), and 6. Not bad.

Now I wish I could go online and register....

Dear CEO of Target,

I just wanted to take a minute to express my total satisfaction, nay, my overwhelming joy with your establishment.

Yesterday I was having a terrible day. My co-worker was in a foul mood and was cursing like a sailor. My manager had an argument with his bank for an hour and since we share an adjoining wall, I was pleasured to hear every word.

The person who told me that he would plan and run our church youth activity night (FHE) just didn't show up and since I am in charge of it I had to deal with everyone's complaints about what a crappy job I do.

I left as soon as I could and came home to sit on my couch. My lovely boyfriend, the ear doctor, came over and we decided to go to Target because I wanted to buy a movie.

I was thoroughly entertained when we found this little jem:

I'm glad that Bordeaux is so proud of his product that he willingly puts his name on it. That is the kind of product confidence that I can really put my trust in.

Next, I was infinitely entertained by this "book":

Did you know that on almost every page of this book you can be pleased to notice Paris Hilton's left lazy eye? Pretty entertaining if you ask me.

The true motivation for this letter comes from my experience in the check out line. While I was waiting for my turn to purchase my wrapped set of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and The Wizard of Oz I noticed that the makers of Big Red cinnamon Chewing Gum have decided to switch their packaging.

immediately after I saw the packs of gum I started singing the big red song. By now I was in a really good mood and decided that I didn't care if anyone heard my singing my favorite jingle of all time. I started out:

"Get close a little longer, Hold tight a little longer,"

Gaining gusto, I continued

"make it last a little longer, longer with big red"

At this point it became my turn to get my DVDs rung up. With reckless abandon I pushed onward

"That big red freshness lasts right thorough it"

Crescendoing into

"your fresh breath goes on and on"

And here I paused because the song goes up to some high notes in the next line and I wasn't sure if I was going to hit them on key.

In my momentary hesitation Josh, my cashier, looked from me, to my boyfriend, and back to me and sang,

"while you chew it"

in the most wonderful monotone, deep voice I've ever heard.

His participation in my little indulgence made my day and formed a warm little spot in my heart. I will always feel a deep bond of friendship for Josh, and thereby for Target.

Thank you again for not only stocking your shelves with superior quality merchandise, but for adhering to the highest standard in your employee work force.

Sincerely,

Katie
(A life-long customer)

Congrats!

I just found out that one of my best friends in the world and his wife had their first baby on Sunday. His name is Jonah and I think he is just about the cutest little guy ever.



I am pretty impressed by how his wife was able to be so pretty for this picture after just having delivered a baby.

We were emailing back and forth and I found out that she had actually "seen" her baby be delivered. She asked for a mirror.

Now I know that it must be amazing to see, but am I the only one who is kind of shocked by that? Is this a common thing to do? What do you think?