I received this email at work today from our Metrology manager. Awesome. Check out the link--total time waster.
Vanessa, It has come to our attention that some people just don’t get parking. (see below) The yellow lines on both sides of a vehicle are to be an equal distance and parallel to the sides of the vehicle that you are trying to park. If there is a yellow line in front of your vehicle, you are supposed to stop so that no part of your vehicle exceeds or passes the forward line. In the case of a vehicle being across the forward line, do not accelerate and try to push the other vehicle back to their side of the line. Try to leave excess room to not only accommodate your entrance and exit, but the entrance and exit of others. For training purposes, please use this online training program: http://www.hollettgaming.com/games/playgame.aspx?gid=45 I have not sent this as a GP-Everyone because I knew since the BoSox were swept, part of the parking mishap today could be due to driving upset. In the future please try to park and drive courteously or root for a team that doesn’t get swept. Thank you—Ivan
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. I'm turning 30 on Friday. I'm supposed to have more accomplished at this point in my life. Crap.
Let's reminisce a bit, shall we.
I completely finished a Deseret News crossword puzzle by myself, without cheating.
I learned to play "Talk Dirty to Me" on the guitar. Not Guitar Hero, the real guitar.
I've maintained the life of a plant the entire year.
I've received 4 black eyes.
Learned to cook a delicious red curry dish.
Put up more decorations in my residence besides the Wayne Gretzky poster.
I am a model of progress.
Kidding aside, I will say that I'm a bit nervous to turn 30. I was at the gym the other day, running in the cardio theater, and Miracle was the movie featured. I often think about that scene with Herb Brooks sitting and talking with his wife at the outdoor rink in Lake Placid, NY. It was the day before the US team was to play the Russians. Herb's wife was telling him that there was no shame in losing. Herb told her that he wasn't afraid of losing, he just wanted his boys to play knowing that they left nothing on the table. Win or lose, it didn't matter. He just wanted them to have no regrets about their performance.
I think I'm leaving alot on the table. And it becomes more apparent just how much you leave on the table as you get older. I do know that I've accomplished alot in my life and feel very proud of the person that I've become. But there's more that I can do and be. I get unsettled very easily. Not in the bad way where you are ungrateful for what you have and just have to have more. But in the way where you know that there's something different and wonderful in store for you and you have to be adventurous and work hard in order to get it.
The other scene in Miracle that really resonated with me is when Herb was talking to Jim Craig (the goal-tender) right before the opening ceremony and Herb told him that he's going to bench him. Jim Craig got all riled up and asked Herb if it's because he didn't take the stupid psychological profile test at the beginning of training camp and offered to take it right then if that's what will enable him to get back on the ice. (Jim Craig didn't take the test when all the rest of his teammates did because he didn't see what taking the dumb test had to do with playing hockey.) Herb said that he wanted to see the guy in the net that wouldn't take the test.
I'm the guy that wouldn't take the test. I'm a pretty headstrong girl. I lost that part of me for a while though, but now it's back and I'm going to use it to clear off the table.
As I'm writing this I'm getting more excited about my 30th year. This blog is good for something!
Resurrected. That word explains the state of the '92 Volvo. It is once again alive and kicking. Everytime I think its time has come for expiry, it surprises me. "FAKEOUT!" Yep, you wily '92. You sure got me that time. Nice to have you back. Sort of.
Want to hear something totally disgusting that I should probably refrain from telling to blogging world in the off chance that there is a lurker somewhere in the void that thinks I'm wicked cool and would want to be friends with me but now would be completely turned of to anything having to do with me because I just spilled the beans about having a fungal infection? Oops. Did I just write that out loud? Ok, so it's true. Remember that rash that I blogged about earlier that everyone thought was a hickey? It's a fungus. Sick, I know. But I guess that's what happens when you're rolling around in man sweat and tangled up in sweaty muscles. Uhm, I'm talking about jujitsu here. Sheesh. I would think it's about time that I wouldn't need to clarify such things.
I wish there was some sort of widget to put on my sidebar to track my fungus' progress. Or it's slow journey toward destruction rather.
Hey Shann, thanks for house-sitting with me. Man, that would've been SO incredibly boring without you. You handled that small electrical fire in the upstairs bathroom splendidly. Blake didn't suspect a thing.
Oh, and Hobbs thanks you for taking the blame for the little accident on the living room floor. It's believable because we all know you have a slight problem with holding it. Way to take one for the team. Seriously, it was so good of you to take time out of your busy schedule to hold down Blake's fort for a while. I know that American Idol auditions are coming up soon and you're going to be a big star! I'm glad that we practiced your paparazzi shots for your impending fame.
I would be a bit camera shy if I were to ever be a starlet.
The best thing I learned that night was that Patrick DOES NOT fit in Polly Pocket's clothes. And apparently Polly has a closet full of clothes from 1982.
I'm pretty proud of myself because for being a person that does not like house pets, I sure let Hobbs slobber and drop dog hair all over me the whole night. I actually kind of liked it. We were total pals!
This does not mean that I have changed my mind about owning an animal of some sort. I am firm on the no pets platform. Let me be clear on that.
A sports bra fell out of my pant leg today at work. It was pink. And yes, there were witnesses.
Way down at the other end of the lab there is a one stall bathroom with a huge full length mirror in it. I was practicing my fight stance and throwing some combinations when someone walked in. I didn't even try to explain it.
I have this weird rash on my neck and four people asked me if it was a hickey. I should've said yes. But instead I explained the rash. Whaaaaat?!
I saw this on the way home from work:
Ask me why I thought this was amusing. I'd tell you that I see the potential of what you could do with a truck full of onions. The possibilities had my mind spinning.
I choked on piece of carrot and was half a second from throwing myself over the back of a chair to give myself the Heimlich. But the overly dramatic coughing and exaggerated choking movements coaxed the carrot to the top of my air passage and now I'm alive to tell the tale.
I ended my day on the deck of a cafe with Natalie, sharing stories about passing gas publicly (don't worry Durb, I will only mention it on my blog today and then I will never mention it on my blog again) and prodding a beetle with a bobby pin.
The pictures don't really capture the excitement of it all. I posted them to show you how sinewy my arms are becoming. Is sinewy a word?
Hey all! Did you miss me? That was kind of a big blogging break for me. I recently received some emails requesting my return to the blogging world. So I'm going to bring you up to speed on what's been happening.
1) I went to Flaming Gorge a week ago with a co-worker and her family. The break away from work was much needed and the trip was very relaxing. There's not too much to report about it. I mostly read on the beach or went boating. I did accidentally show her family my left breast after I did a cliff jump and was climbing back into the boat. My swimsuit just wasn't doing it's job of keeping it all contained. That will make a splendid memory for them to tell around the campfire in years to come.
2) I made it back in time for the fights on Saturday night. I made a mistake on the last post when I told you all that it was at the Salt Palace. It was actually at the South Towne Expo Center. Jeremy Horn's Fight Nights have typically been at the Salt Palace in the past so I made a false assumption. Cam asked me in the gym yesterday when I was going to write about the fights. I guess I've been giving him some exposure with my blog posts. I'm glad this thing is mildly useful. I didn't think that these fights were as exciting or good as ones that I've seen in the past. I felt that some of the fights were mismatched or that they weren't at a level of fighting to were it was a good show. I don't remember all too much of what happened because I just don't have good recall on things that are over a week old. I do remember that Cam is an incredible fighter and had the match from the very beginning. His opponent was Lance Gorman who fights out of Jeremy Horn's gym, Elite. Cam landed some perfectly placed leg kicks right away and you could tell that Lance was hurting from those. Lance answered back with a pretty good flying knee. Cam's defense looked tight and didn't get the full effect from it. From there Cam took him to the ground and just landed a ton of strikes. Right before the referee stopped the fight Cam was getting in some "Hulk smashes." Lance was on his stomach and Cam was sitting on top of him landing these double fisted hits to the side of Lance's head and to his body. The fight only lasted about 45 seconds and Cam won the fight by ref stoppage. And that's how he always wins. His fights seem to be short and sweet. Steve "Razor" came out in his ninja costume and the crowd went wild. He had this black leather Spartan-like skirt on underneath. The guy is a circus clown. People like seeing him fight because he is such a show. He does what he wants and is very memorable because of it. He was up against Shane Brenner who also fights out of Jeremy Horn's gym. This fight didn't last long at all. I guess the story is that Shane recently had an injury and was fighting anyway. Steve got in some nice combinations and then Shane just went down on his own because of the injury. I think most of us were really disappointed about that. I really wanted to see where that fight would go. Well, I knew Steve would definitely take it but I wanted to see how it was done. I hope Steve takes another fight around here again. Congratulations to Cam and Steve for getting their respective wins! I'm proud to be part of your team!
3) I knew that the time was coming close for my car to break down again. I blew off a date because I was invited to Ben G's (Absolute teammate) house for a BBQ and to watch the fights that were on TV that night. While I was there I got a call from a friend that was having car trouble and went to go help out in her situation. On my way I ended up over-heating, again. Last time it was just a hose that needed to be replaced. This time I think it's more serious and I don't think that I'm going to invest the money to get it repaired. So I guess the '92 Volvo just bit the dust. What a tragic occurrence. I loved that car. And I have no idea how to go about buying a new one. I've always relied on my dad for that sort of thing. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
I have more to blog about, but it's just going to have to wait until tomorrow. This heat is really draining my energy. My bed is screaming my name.
I look forward to those eight wonderful words. It's always said after we have drilled for a while. It's then time to put into action what we've been taught.
I worked with Pedro today. We worked on chokes from the mount. He was choking me out like I was robbing his mother. Man, it was awesome.
I want to let those of you that are interested to know that there is a Jeremy Horn Fight Night this Saturday, July 12th, at the Salt Palace at 7:00 pm. My friend, Camrann, is fighting in this show. He's a competitor and I see how he trains. He always trains as if he's fighting the next day. He always stays strong and focused. I can't wait to see him win this. Steve Sharp is the main event. I love this guy. When I first met him I just thought he was a big knucklehead. But I was wrong, again. He's the nicest guy, has no ego and is so willing to help those that take their training seriously. He's one of the fiercest fighters that I've ever been around. He understands this stuff and explains it to others very well. He's been traveling alot to fight lately and hasn't fought in Utah in a while. You want to come see this. He's puts on a great show too. He comes out in a ninja outfit. Awesome. Here's clip of the "Razor."
I love the signature Razor gesture at the end. Hilarious.
I'm going to be out of town tomorrow through Saturday afternoon. I'll be back in time for the fights. So no new posts until Sunday at the least.
Jenny tagged me with this special tag that I will take very seriously. I forgot about your tag until just today. Sorry for the delay!
10 years ago...I had great ambitions to be a FlyGirl. I even had a routine made up to No Diggity by Blackstreet. I was also head over heels for a stoner named Bruce.
I don't remember him looking so much like a woman.
5 years ago...I finally beat Mike Tyson's Punchout. Yes, I do believe that it was during the glorious summer of 2003.
1 year ago... on this very dayI met a man with a handlebar mustache, wearing a rakish derby and we set off dry ice bombs on the beach of Antelope Island.
Yesterday...watched Jumper while a handsome, muscled man made me dinner. And then I had myself some dessert.
A Twix bar! Geez, guys!
5 bad habits...Oh, this is a tough one. Let me think. Hmmm. Nope, nothing. Sorry. Check back at a later date. I'll try to develop some this week.
5 pet peeves...1) being held at gunpoint 2) getting caught on fire while BBQing 3) Swoobs, Swack, Sweavage, and Swits 4) song lyrics with lines such as, "Tasting the milk of your Mother Earth's love." Sick. What does that even mean?! 5) smallpox
5 hobbies...1) watching my forearms getting more sinewy 2) snuggling up with a glass of cider and watching the rain, just as Ron Burgundy does 3) feeding ducks 4) pursuing the American Dream 5) listening to the tick my of biological clock
5 people I'd like to meet...1) My future husband. Where the hell are you? Sheesh. I don't mean to be a nag or anything, but I think you've been incubating long enough and I'm ready for you. 2) Yoda. I'd like to be trained by a real Jedi Master. I'm tired of figuring this out by myself 3) My dad when he was in his twenties. I'm sure that he was the craziest guy and so much fun to be around. He's pulled the rear axle out from a police car before, just like in the movie American Graffiti. 4) Vanessa the Scientist with out knowing that it was me. I wonder what I'd think of myself. 5) Mark Walberg. It would be clear that he's my booty call. I wouldn't be his.
5 things I'd never wear...1) anything that would make people wonder whether or not I was a man or a woman 2) Pants with "JUICY" written across the butt. At least not in public. Or maybe just not to work. No, even then maybe just not to corporate meetings 3) leather pants with the butt cheeks cut out of them, such as the ones The Artist Formerly Known As Prince wore 4) a tutu such as this...
5) or anything resembling this...5 people to tag...Barack Obama, George Michael Bluth, Chuck Liddell, Bugs Bunny, and Brenna. I think everyone else has already done it. If you haven't then I am tagging you. Durbs (the elder and the younger)? Have you been dragged and tagged?
I just witnessed the best fireworks of my entire existence. The Bees lit off fireworks after the game tonight and I wanted to cry because they were just that beautiful. Kidding, I didn't want to cry. Ok, maybe a tiny trickling tear when they lit the finale and set it to the Star Spangled Banner. I felt so grateful for what I was experiencing right then. I was sitting in a baseball stadium (one of my favorite past times) with some of my favorite friends, eating a delicious deli sandwich and enjoying an amazing display of fireworks. I love this country! I want to tell you how I feel about it but it's not something that I can adequately put into words. I have a huge sense of pride for The Land of the Free and humbly respect those that got us where we are today. I enjoy my freedoms and the way I live. I know that I take it for granted most of the time, but I grab onto reminders like tonight where I'm really aware of all that I have and my heart swells with gratitude. I truly am proud to be an American. Play ball!
I recieved the scare of a lifetime today. I was driving home from a farmers market and a Diet Coke can errupted in my car. It was the greatest Coke explosion in recorded history. Simply incredible. The black interior of my car can retain an ample amount of heat and that can was cooked! I hit a slight bump and it just went off. It sounded like a shotgun and I almost drove right off the road. It completely soaked me and the entire interior of the car. Soaked!
I sat there completely baffled for a few seconds and then just started cracking up. I couldn't wait to tell someone. Especially YOU!
I'll always stand by Wayne and Garth, but Andy Samberg is steadily climbing my list of people containing a high level of comedy. Have you seen Hot Rod? Trust me, it's not for everyone. As for myself, I must say that being a continual optimist I choose to extract the deeper meaning from these movies and apply them to my daily living, giving me a grander and more fulfilling existence.
Could I also mention that I really, really want to be friends with David Grohl. Him and Taylor Hawkins were the double punch. I'm pleased that he would agree to make such an appearance.
Now that we got Foo Fighters on the brain I need to ask if anyone knows the story behind how the Foo Fighters got their name. This morning on 94.9 The Blaze, Marcus in the Morning (this guy is such a tool) was telling us that the Foo Fighters were really supposed to be the Food Fighters, but that when their album and other associated paraphernalia went to the printers some doofus messed up and forgot the D on the end of Food. Whatever. Dave Grohl was the drummer for Nirvana, not a musician based out of his parents basement. If he wanted the band name to be Food Fighters, then it would've been the freaking Food Fighters. Marcus is the doofus. Well, I got a little help from Wikipedia and they enlightened me as to what a foo fighter is. Based on that info, I definitely think that the Foo Fighters intentionally meant to be named after foo fighters. With that being said, I must go and eat some edamame, feed Super, check the baseball standings, take the trash out the the street and then dream sweet dreams of the Science Policeman. Good night.
First off, I just drove from downtown to 7200 S on State street without hitting any red lights. What the...? I know! I was freaking out! North Temple to 7200 S! I am not yanking your chain right now. This was for real. I just...I just....can't wrap my mind around it. I wanted to stop at 7Eleven for a Diet Coke, but couldn't bring myself to end the amazingness of it all.
Also, in an effort to post the most unflattering picture of myself, I would like to present black eye number four. I'm waiting to see if anyone picks this up off the internet and uses it in an awareness poster that reads, "Just Say No To Drunken Bar Fights."
Call me crazy, but I think I want to run this race again next year. What changed, you ask? Well, firstly, I think that I'm a better runner than I was last year. Secondly, I knew my entire team. Thirdly, I had cooler times in the day to run. Fourthly, our team finished earlier than projected. All those things combined made for a great experience. Plus, I think I just knew what to expect this year and wasn't surprised when I had to wake my achy body up at butt o'clock in the morning after only two hours of sleep to go and run 7 miles. I just told it to shut up and run. And it did. And I felt like an All-Star. And I was. And still am. Just sayin'.
The race was pretty uneventful except for the the unfortunate experience of me being in one of the Port-A-John's, retching, while our runner was coming through the check-point of our last leg. Yeah, I was embarrassed. I took an 800 mg ibuprofen an hour before, didn't eat anything and it ripped up my stomach. I was nauseous my entire last leg of 5.9 miles. Lesson learned.
Shannon (in black) at the starting line. Zach, Becky, Shannon, and Quint. Great. The only picture taken of me was at night when I was wearing the required reflective vest and headlamp. And I don't normally run with my head down. I have no idea what I was doing at this moment. Wait, is this even me? The scenery was unreal. Sometimes the beauty of it made me forget how much I don't like running. Like for 3 seconds. Tops. Shannon and Quinton Jeremy (Shannon's bro) joined our team when one Nelson employee dropped out. Shannon has wanted to set us up for a while. Uhm, yes please! Stretching the legs Zach was a champ during this race. He doesn't quit no matter how much it hurts. He had a brutal uphill stretch at Avon pass and he conquered it. He kicked that hill's ass!
Shannon passing off to Becky Zach passing off to Jeremy Jeremy passing to Quint. Or maybe Quint is just giving him some water. Or just maybe I wanted a picture of Jeremy with his shirt off. Hmmm.
Jeremy completely the last leg for our team. I can't tell you the relief that one feels once you see that last person cross the line. You know that you can get a in a shower soon and have a decent meal without wondering how it's going to sit in your gut once you start running again. And you finally get to be able to sleep. SLEEP! Oh sweet sleep. Oh sweet, sweet mattress with fluffy down comforter. You laugh, but I wanted to write poetry about the love I felt for my glorious bed after that race was through.
The celebratory beer (or Gatorade if you're me). My second Wasatch Back medal! I'm kind of a big deal.
I promised myself last year that I would never run the Wasatch Back Relay again. And here I am, the night before the race, thinking back to that promise and wondering what in the hell made me say yes to this. Two days in a van with 5 other sweaty runners? Port-A-John's? Six to seven miles at a time in ninety degree heat? I paid money to do this?
I complain, but in the end I love doing this stuff. I love accomplishing something. I worked hard to get in marathon shape last year and feel proud of myself for retaining quite a bit of that.
I'm part of a great team this year. Most of the runners are people that I work with and I really enjoy them. Our team name is Nelson Lab Staph and the runners are me, Shannon, Quint, Zach, Jeremy, Becky, Ben, Caleb, Porter, Sherri, Pete, and Emily.
Did you know that one loaf of bread can make 10 peanut butter sandwiches? Yep. And did you know that I can make all of them in less time than it takes to listen to the song Yellow Ledbetter? Yep. In the next 48 hours I plan on eating at least 6 of the sandwiches plus 6 apples, 3 bananas, some snap peas, 4 packs of GU, and 4 of protein bars.
I made a killer playlist for the run. It contains alot of AC/DC, Pearl Jam, Linkin Park, Metallica, Fuel, Incubus, and Justin Timberlake. Wait...not JT.
Good luck Lydia and Mike! I highly doubt that we'll see each other on the course, but we'll have to get together afterwards and have an achievement dinner.
I've got quite a while to sit here and spill out all the contents of my brain on this post. I'm making some desserts for a birthday celebration of some people at work tomorrow. I was asked today if I would do it. Today. Of course I would do it. So I got home at 9 and started making an apple cake and a chocolate bundt cake. The baking time on each is almost an hour. Pull up a chair.
1) Call me crazy, but I love this dress. Or maybe I just like the way that Natalie Portman looks in it. Or maybe I just want to look like this. Yeah, that's it.
2) I heard a crazy story on the radio this morning about someone throwing a cigarette butt out their car window and starting a brush fire. I knew throwing those things out the window was dangerous. I'm paranoid when I run over a burning butt because I think somehow one little cinder is going to find a tiny breach in my gas tank and my car is going to explode leaving me to die a horrible, painful death.
3) Super is losing scales. A significant amount of scales. I would say that he has lost one third of his total body scale count. Is that bad? Should I be worried? Does anyone has any information on extreme fish scale loss? I mean, besides telling me that he's getting old.
4) Get some Witch Hazel. I had some pretty serious mat burn from Jujitsu on Saturday. Someone told me that Witch Hazel astringent would heal that up. And it did. And now I want to profess my love for Witch Hazel from a mountain top!
5) I just checked my email. Apparently I'm the heir of an extremely large amount of money from a distant relative in South Africa and I'm supposed to send $5,000 to get the money out of litigation. Let me write the check and then I'm taking the next ten people that comment on my blog to the Caribbean!
6) I have a pen pal at work. I'm going to call him The Reporter because he's in the reporting department (my creativity goes to bed before my body does). He randomly emailed me about something and now we write back and forth all the time. We share book recommendations and exchange encouragement on the different projects that we're involved in. It's strictly platonic, but very enjoyable. I thrive on meeting new and interesting people. I love getting to be good friends with others that are so different from me. By doing that I feel as though I am constantly learning and gaining a different perspective on things and it has helped me be able to relate to all types of people.
7) I met Ben's family. It was such a comfortable situation. If it would've been a few months ago I would've interpreted the invite as something that it wasn't. It finally feels like we're friends again. For a while there I thought that he was completely done with me. But we've started working on the business again and being friends. It was nice seeing him around his family. He was less Ben The Almighty and more Ben The Chillaxed. His family reminded me of my family. Everyone is so different but the dynamic of those personalities together is amazing. I really enjoy his mom. She's so laid back and comfortable to talk to. His dad fascinates me and I can't explain why. I'd have to spend more time around him to figure it out. His sisters are beautiful and very personable. Unfortunately his brothers weren't there. I've heard stories and now am curious.
8) I just fell asleep on my computer desk. My left typing hand settled into a pool of my own drool. I'm such a drooler! Is there a drug of some sort that can help control saliva production? I split my lip open at Absolute a week or two ago and the amount of drool that was coming out of my mouth while my lip was swollen was unbelievably sick. I had no control whatsoever. I would wake up and have my entire pillow wet with drool. Please don't judge me. I'm very normal in so many other ways.
Except this one:
I can totally do that just like Garth Algar. No lie. Well, I tone down the pelvic thrusts a little.
I can't think of anything more to write about today. I wish that I had something scandalous to tell you, but I don't. Sorry. And good night.
Tragically our company had a Lagoon Day last Thursday. And even more tragically I agreed to go. I really should've stayed home because I had so many other things to catch up on, but I told some others in the Aerobiology department that I would go a long time ago and feel really lame when I back out on such things. The thing is I don't really enjoy amusement parks. They are so dirty and you're sitting in and touching things that a trillion other probable non-hygienic people have sat on or touched. Also, this outing was in Mid-June with school just getting out the week before. I stood for 20 minuets in line just to go on something that I liken to a massive centrifuge. It felt like all my organs and parts of my blood separated out and ended up in my right foot.
I rode all the roller-coasters and those weren't too bad. They didn't make me puke, but they did make some choice words come out of my mouth. Nothing like being plummeted to what seems like inevitable death to make you scream Mother Effer. I kid, I kid. It was more like, SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! Sorry to those of you that are offended by my foul language (please don't flag my blog), but that is what was said in those moments of eye-bulging horror. I'm just keeping it real here.
I went with a few girls that I worked with in my old department. Ashley and Adrianne are fellow Nelson employees. Emily, Ashley's cool younger sister, also came with us. Emily and I get along so great. We both have similar playful personalities. We were at the park for almost 7 hours, which was 3 hours longer than I'd hoped that we would stay. There came a point where I was done going on any rides because I was positive that I would spew everywhere. I was thinking back (while I sat on a nearby bench eating a churro, watching the others snake through the lines) to when I was much younger and my family would take trips like this. I grew very tall, very young. I was 6 feet by the time I was in 8th grade which made me a complete social disaster, but that is a story for another time. I could go on all the rides that most others my age couldn't go on because I passed the height requirement. My older brother would actually cry because I could go on the terrifying roller-coaster rides with my dad and he had to stay behind and watch. I remember thinking that I really didn't want to go those on those rides but would anyway just because it made my brother mad. Man, I'm so rotten.
Adrianne, Emily, Ashley, and Me Don't you want to hurl just looking at this picture? I think I just did in my mouth a little bit. Ashley straddling Adrianne. I'm not a big fan of those two people in one seat rides. Emily and I rode together in this thing and we were one massive display of arms and legs. We are both 6 feet tall. We could hardly contain our limbs in those little cars. Emily, Ashley, Adrianne, and Chad on The Rocket. We met up with Chad and his girlfriend, Twee, a bit later in the day. Twee was a bit of a chicken when it came to the rides. Chad had scratch marks in his arm to prove it.
Barely tall enough to get on! Uhm...if you tell me not to, I won't. Twee, Me, and Adrianne
I'll admit it. I really want to see Never Back Down. I fully realize that it is not an accurate depiction of mixed martial arts, but it is a modern day Karate Kid! And the fights in it could potentially be good since they are all choreographed. I'm sure I missed my chance to see it in the theaters, so I think (since I don't own a TV) that I would say yes to the first person that invites me over to watch this movie, and I would bring the most delicious treat EVER to thank them for their generosity.
Here's a clip of what you can look forward to.
Did everyone just change their minds?
I also want to take this opportunity (since I am admitting secret shames) that I had the world's largest crush on Ralph Macchio after I saw the Karate Kid. I was so fickle when I was much younger. I was fully devoted to Luke Skywalker for the first part of elementary school, but as soon as I saw Daniel LaRusso's moves I was easily swayed. It has all come full circle now. I have always had the love of martial arts and now instead of manifesting itself by making me fall for a dorky character in a movie, I'm participating in it. I understand myself so much better now.
And because this all goes together so well, I'm just going to tell you one thing more. And please don't hold this against me for the rest of my life. Promise? Ok. I had this fantasy a long time ago when all my friends were getting proposed to, that my guy would put on that "rising sun" headband that Daniel LaRusso wore and sing The Glory of Love song to me. I must clarify that I don't want that anymore. I would probably be horribly embarrassed for any man that would ever really do that. And I am embarrassed that at one point in my life I actually thought that a display like that would be a good idea. What a tragedy.
You can't tell me that after watching that video that you didn't want to kick that guy in the face. I wouldn't believe you if you said no. Peter Cetera is painful to watch.
Now that song, in theory, is adorable. If any man really thought that way about me, or wanted to say those things to me, I'd melt like a tube of lipstick in a hot car.
The best thing I learned that night was that Patrick DOES NOT fit in Polly Pocket's clothes. And apparently Polly has a closet full of clothes from 1982.
The scenery was unreal. Sometimes the beauty of it made me forget how much I don't like running. Like for 3 seconds. Tops.
The celebratory beer (or Gatorade if you're me).
My second Wasatch Back medal! I'm kind of a big deal.
2) I heard a crazy story on the radio this morning about someone throwing a cigarette butt out their car window and starting a brush fire. I knew throwing those things out the window was dangerous. I'm paranoid when I run over a burning butt because I think somehow one little cinder is going to find a tiny breach in my gas tank and my car is going to explode leaving me to die a horrible, painful death. 
