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?