Knice Kone KMia . . . Let's celebrate a "K" day!

Why most people would like to hide from the stupid things they do - I revel in them . . .

Last night I was trying to find a scripture that has been on my mind so I was searching the index, topic guide and bible dictionary. I couldn't beleive that neither of the three had any reference to the word that I was looking for - "What has this world come to?" I thought, "Not one of these dumb guides has the word NECK in it!?!"
Well folks, it would have helped if I had actually known how to SPELL neck - I searched for 15 minutes in the "k's" until it dawned on me that there is no silent "K" at the beginning of the word - smart one, and I call myself an English major? They should strip my degree from me! Not really, though, because aren't we all allowed a few mistakes?

So that the fellas over at Weber don't get wind of my teensy, tiny mistake . . . . I officially declare today "K" day! It's the cool thing to think that everything starts with a K!

KTry Kit! KIt's Ka Kblast!

"We've only just begun . . ."

I realized something this morning – I have been alive only a little longer than Law and Order had been a hit crime drama on NBC. Its crazy how time flies, right? Especially when we measure it by that capable ruler – so from here on out instead of the phrase “many moons ago”, I will use, “many Law and Order seasons ago” to tell my tales of life and existence . . .



. . . Many Law and Order seasons ago, my mother, Susana, was heavy with child (me:)) and busy as always. She woke early on the morning of August 9th and decided that being nine months pregnant made it a perfect time to pick beans in the garden across the way – Gail Lord’s garden (side note: Gail’s garden rocks and is still as perfect today as it was those many years ago). I had taken my time in coming to this world, in other words – I was late, which has often surprised me because being late now is one of my biggest pet peeves. Anyhow, back to my tale . . . my mother was in the garden picking beans when a stork flew down (haha, jk – checking to see if you are paying attention); she was in the garden when she realized that her baby was coming. She called my dad, who called the doctor and the nurse told them to get to the hospital as soon as possible because the baby was coming fast – “Don’t wait, just come!” My mother, as you recall, had been in the garden picking beans under a hot August sun, there was no way she was going to go without a shower so, disregarding a doctor’s order and causing my life danger she took her time to shower and get ready and they made it to the hospital in time for me to be born with modern medical conveniences and not in the back of my pop’s 78 Thunderbird (now that would have been a story!).
This story has been told many a time, so many in fact that I could dictate it in my sleep and pause and annunciate certain words for affect better than my mother herself :) I think that all children should know how they came into this world and should hear from their parents, like I have, of the joy and life that their being born has brought to the life of those that love them.
I love my family and so much more - - - - stay tuned for the next birthday installment of what 28 years of living has taught me – Oh! The wisdom!

On the eve of the almost greatest day ever known to man . . . my birth . . .

Humble much? You better believe it! There will be a myriad of posts tomorrow because August 9th (best day in the history of days) only comes around once a year! - - - - Stay tuned for the story of how this girl -

became the person I am today ( hint - it involved much Rave4, many a crimping iron and more countless hours with a soccer ball than you can imagine) . . .

An open letter . . .

Dear overly tanned 40 year old man from the Roy pool,

Do you really have to splash so much? Seriously. I know that you are strong and fast and believe me, all of the rest of us swimmers know that you have lapped us in our meager attempts at the benefits of a cardiovascular workout, but do you have to overdo it? Just to let you know, you are not Michael Phelps and this isn’t the Olympics so please tone it down a little. I was doing the backstroke in my own lane just minding my own business when I was drowned by this overwhelming splash and wave that took me to the depths of the five feet section. I lived, but just barely. Even the little old ladies doing their arm raises and kicks SEVEN lanes over felt the fury that was your splash and it messed up their perfectly done hair that never ever gets wet - - - Do you know how big a splash must be to do that? You probably don’t but let me tell ya, it’s a BIG one and they are all coming from YOU! And so that we can end as friends, one last piece of advice . . . never chose a lane next to me again and be careful, all that tanning could lead to skin cancer.

Sincerely yours,

The drowned rat in the lane next to you

This was my 24th . . .

Hope yours was just as great!

Did I tell you . . .

I love rain. Wish it were raining now.

New Camera needs new photographer . . .

Silly me, I thought that when my great new camera came I would suddenly become a great photographer. Guess it doesn't happen like that:( I am, however, excited to try and get some practice in before I head to Italy. That trip deserves a better photographer.

Artistic Impediment Theory . . .

Good, huh? I got art skills like you wouldn't believe. I drew this picture today in my Don Quijote film class. For me to draw anything, you know painful death by boredom was imminent. Without this little art project, blogging and the rest of my life would have been over. How much I despise that class, I guess, is besides my current point; currently I was thinking about what happens to most normal adults after about 3rd or 4th grade. Now, I don't mean that we begin to have crushes on each other, or that we begin to have a love for anything that has to do with Walker Texas Ranger or even that I should call people adults after 3rd or 4th grade -confused yet? I am. Does anyone remember where I was going with this? . . . Ah, yes - I was talking about art skills and how they seem to become frozen at exactly 3rd or 4th grade. The above photo is all the evidence needed. This is a picture of Ethan(far left), Mason(middle) and Samuel (far right), out in our beautiful world, next to a tree, enjoying the sun.
Evidence A(to back up my hypothesis): the sun. I can almost hear Mrs. Jones telling us the way to draw a sun was to do a half circle at the top left hand corner of a paper and draw the rays coming out from the circle - small line, longer line, small line, longer line, etc.
Evidence B: That tree rocks! It's a "V Tree." All ya gotta do to draw this bad boy is made a trunk and then go V crazy! You can even make your v's circle around and in the blank space it almost looks like you got cool hearts everywhere - so great! As you can tell, however, I must have been absent when they taught how to draw leaves - all my life my trees have been stuck in a perpetual winter - the sun never makes it out.
Evidence#3: Last and definitely not least, is people drawing. Now if those aren't the best three drawings of little boys you have ever seen, bring it on - let's have a contest and I can rival anyone who's artist talent is also stuck back in the 4th grade! "Circle for head, then the neck, round the shoulders, bring out the arms with fingers, then straight body, box those legs, add the feet" and . . . Voila - person perfection!

Now there you have it - my Artistic Impediment Theory! I am a twenty-something who still draws like a 3rd grader on the first day of school and I bet that there are many in my same boat. If you got any better name suggestions, let me know . . .

"Are you Jim? . . ."

Hinds Quick Stop is Peterson's local stomping grounds. It's the center of town, the place to which all residents go - some more than a few times a day. When I was a child it was one of the places that I could go alone - I loved the phrase, "I'm going to Hinds". The have a glass candy cabinet with plenty of treats for a kid to dream. One of the owner's in Sandra Hinds. She is a great lady. When I was young, I have to admit, I was a little intimidated. Sandra is one of those people who don't beat around the bush, she gets to the point and tells it like it is. Over the years we have become friends and I love going in and saying hello and it seems that with every push of the door, I am a child again.

The other day I had stopped to get gas for my dad before I headed to Ogden. It was at one of Hind's busy times - the after work rush. I have to admit I had had a long and rough day (those always lead to the best kind of awkward:), I walked in and said my usual hello to Sandra, who was manning the counter. I was getting myself a great little fountain soda and was talking to her at the same time. I hadn't heard anyone come in as I was getting my drink but it seems that the man who was beside me at the pump had finished and made his way in to pay. I heard Sandra call out, "So, 43 . . blah, blah?" I thought she was in a hurry to get me out of the store by calling out my gas sale before I was even ready so I answered her as I finished up and let me tell ya, I think my hearing was gone by that time because I yelled out the loudest "YEAH!" that you have ever heard! Just as I did that I turned around to see an older gentleman writing a check and Sandra looking at me with a puzzled look on her face and askin' (in my mind she did this with a southern accent which I guess isn't entirely accurate because she is from Nevada but nevertheless go with it because it sounds better . . .) "are YOU Jim?"

"hehe, ummm, nope, just jumpin' ahead on the 'ol train track," - that was followed by a look from the man and awkward silence as more people had entered the store. It was a grand moment, there are so many of those in my life and for that I am grateful. Now, let this be a warning to you that next time you aren't sure you heard something right, just keep your mouth shut - - - - because next time it might be you that has to answer, "are YOU Jim?"

Not something you wanna hear on a Monday morning . . .

. . . or any morning for that fact. While conversing with a gentleman this morning about his car insurance he proceeded to say,
"Yeah, you know, I was coughing so hard I thought I was going to spit out some of my throat flesh."
Wow. TMI. Didn't need that image and neither did you - what is with people's inability to sensor the things that they say?

On days like today . . .

I need these boys, stickers and all, to bring a smile to my face - - - - they never fail:)

I got a case of . . .

Compare -itis

Compare:

Origin - 1375-1435; late ME comparen

- verb (used with object)

1 - to examine (two or more objects, ideas, persons, etc.) in order to note similarities and differences: to compare two pieces of cloth; to compare the governments of two nations.

Why must I insist on torturing myself through my grand art of comparing everything, everyone and their lives, to mine? It's my most annoying quality and that's saying something:)

Lets see if I can strive for a great case of Content - itits - - - - now that's something I can get on board with!

The rain and the log home. . .

I love the rain. It makes me happy, it puts me at ease. This past month has been full of rain and nothing could have made me happier. If you’ve never lived in a log home, you should, especially when it’s raining. I have been home for a month and it’s had both its good and bad but one incredible good is the realization I’ve had at how much I love my home and how I’ve missed it this past year. It isn’t just logs, walls, rooms and doors; it’s a silent witness to the happy and sad moments that have taken place within those walls and rooms. I laid awake the other night, underneath my open windows and listened to the rain. The rain falls different onto a log home than it does on any other. At my last home the walls and the brick and the roof became a protector, deflecting the rain off with swift rejection. The logs, on the other hand, protect in a different way – they embrace the water as it falls and lets the rain find the ground by making its way over their curved surface. The logs were cool as I placed my hands against them and the smell of the rain together with the wood was wonderful. The smell alone is why everyone should live in a log home. As the smell of the rain mixed with the wood it created a cool sweetness, almost a musk, one of those things you can’t quite put a name too but you recognize it just the same; it brings comfort, it is comfort. I fell asleep to the sound of a symphony of rain and the smell of comfort that the wind lightly blew into my room.

A Tag from Erica . . .

4 things on my wishlist

new camera
new car
hopscotch court
Emilio Estevez


4 shows I watch

Criminal Minds
Dancing with the Stars (Tony is all I have to say about thatJ)
Castle (Nathan Fillion is all I have to say about thatJ)
Bones (David Bor – wait, you know the restJ)


4 things I’m passionate about

Literature
Music
Family
Dinosaurs

4 phrases I say a lot

Yikes and or Yikers
Gross!
_______________ (I need you all to help me out with the last 2 – I can’t think)
_______________

4 things I’ve learned from the past

Life is hard for everyone
Patience is the best virtue to posses
Kindness matters
You can’t change the past

4 places I want to go

Ireland
Argentina (again)
Boston
Sandpoint, Idaho (wink , wink)

4 things I did yesterday

watched Mason
drove Gabby’s car
went to Barnes and Noble
bought flowers with my mother


4 things I’m looking forward to

Italy
Italy
Italy
And did I say . . . Italy

4 things I love about Winter

the cold
hot drinks
fireplace a blazin
basically everything (bring back winter!!)


Tag 5 (I like 7 better)

Abby
Emily
Rachel
Michelle
Ariel
Marcela
Wendy

on your mark, get set, GO!

10 points . . .

go to whoever can tell me where this comes from:

"Also . . . I can kill you with my brain."

Man - I love this show:)