tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14396487373737445812024-02-20T14:26:35.671-07:00AND THEN SHE SAYS...Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.comBlogger163125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-10132510793800731972011-06-07T15:48:00.004-06:002011-06-07T16:06:49.726-06:002011 Half Marathon ResultI ran in the Ogden 1/2 marathon a few weeks ago. It was lots of fun, but my time was a bit weak when compared to my first 1/2 marathon time. I'm excited to sign up for the next one, so I can try and do better. Half marathons are a good time if you're a runner...They don't require all that much extra training & like my cousin Johnny pointed out the other night--a marathon is the only event in sports that participates can choose to go only half way and still get praise & accolades from friends. Ha! I'm just happy that I came in under 2 hours...<span style="font-style: italic;">barely</span> under 2. <a href="https://www.onestoprace.com/results/default.aspx?event=4925&r=562">Race results.</a> Here are a couple pics I stole from Leesh.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8zOapZedyYVfmm1kDGsQgUDM7BlIttzSNXuR8aA5AHTWz3ZJn9cEqMoVLjhsKFDf6_iHr3UNovnY7pBtrRmt-hf4hCjAeMpQfddeI6jsVKfhJMzldK2l7LUXM1mn6IM0wtq7XOH2v8Sj/s1600/item.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 380px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8zOapZedyYVfmm1kDGsQgUDM7BlIttzSNXuR8aA5AHTWz3ZJn9cEqMoVLjhsKFDf6_iHr3UNovnY7pBtrRmt-hf4hCjAeMpQfddeI6jsVKfhJMzldK2l7LUXM1mn6IM0wtq7XOH2v8Sj/s400/item.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615601452543887074" border="0" /></a>Leesh and I trying to stay warm at the start.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXKWyMf_pIW_64uwgdicrSHZ3v9eC7lBU1nwIlnqVnGrN0aj72rd2DWLfzOn6PCB3TEcq_dRbQujo-U3KajXkfukqtEcij5bn7DXzbhZby2qwSjV_9YFcPN35TksGtLPbWaybFryCqdm6/s1600/item3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXKWyMf_pIW_64uwgdicrSHZ3v9eC7lBU1nwIlnqVnGrN0aj72rd2DWLfzOn6PCB3TEcq_dRbQujo-U3KajXkfukqtEcij5bn7DXzbhZby2qwSjV_9YFcPN35TksGtLPbWaybFryCqdm6/s400/item3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615601596014248146" border="0" /></a>Matt and Aleesha after both of their races were done! I was so proud of both of them, especially Leesh since this was her first big race. She did great.<br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-5687183299263630932011-05-16T01:27:00.002-06:002011-05-16T02:08:42.510-06:00ThreadingI finally found someone who threads! And who knew I'd find these people at the mall?! I was hanging out with Jill on Friday night when we decided to go to the mall in Mesa to get a treat and just walk around for a bit. We were heading for the food court when we passed by this place call the Brow Bar. Yes, the Brow Bar. I thought I was hallucinating. I made Jill turn around with me so we could take a closer look at this place. We walked over to the place, and I noticed that a girl was getting her eyebrows threaded by another girl that looked like she was about 16 years old. This girl, the one who looked like she was about 16, seemed like she knew what she was doing, plus she had really beautiful looking brows. We waited for her to finish threading before asking some questions, but I really had already decided to give it a try before she answered any of the questions we had. Jill thought I was crazy for jumping in the chair so soon, but it was only $10...and like I said, this threader girl had really pretty brows. Luckily, she did a great job, so I'll definitely be going back. The whole time I was in the chair, Jill kept on saying, "Oh my gosh, Monica, I wish you could see this! It looks so cool!"<br /><br />And my obsession with eyebrows continues... <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><div align="center"><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NK-QzPLgUTo" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"></iframe><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"></span></div></span>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-79127675668948483022011-05-09T22:13:00.012-06:002011-05-10T00:23:43.176-06:00The ubiquitous camera phone: A not so in-depth study of my camera phone usageRemember how I said I jacked up my camera on the camping trip a couple weeks ago? Well I've yet to fix/replace my camera which started me thinking about how much less worried I'd be about replacing my camera if only I had a super cool smart phone with the capability to take quality photos. It seems like everyone just uses their phone to take pictures now anyway. Man, I really want an iPhone more than ever. My roommate just got one and I'm jealous. All this useless thinking about my outdated phone led me to the rediscovery of several of my camera phone files I had long forgotten about. I haven't used the camera on my phone a lot, because the quality isn't very good at all, but every now and then I'd use it. Here are a bunch of old pics I found that made me laugh. I'm leaving for Utah and New York in about a week, so I better fix my camera before then...or get a new phone that takes better pictures before I take off, whichever happens first I guess.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAtoyw1uBb_U6jRAA8LYPsw37_SNKytiTo6QMTEIDEdzcks6wfvl1IPRDZs8uLSCQJ4mb8YdSCsPxGLNVLDOP8ttJ5tZuTOQ4L5TTGpJm-LxzCuPb1yCwEYekiGf3L0_cSxJQBjLKB7mS/s1600/Lukey.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAtoyw1uBb_U6jRAA8LYPsw37_SNKytiTo6QMTEIDEdzcks6wfvl1IPRDZs8uLSCQJ4mb8YdSCsPxGLNVLDOP8ttJ5tZuTOQ4L5TTGpJm-LxzCuPb1yCwEYekiGf3L0_cSxJQBjLKB7mS/s400/Lukey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604963239839493186" border="0" /></a>Lukey<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb-h2lX14LCQ9sinRlJquqdW7vqJHga2XeDAmEhSQVZxuEh7fL7HTtPI9fGeYXkCYyHOeCSDHucEbbHBRSHh9NVN60C7XJ7-x4q8dG7YTLJutrtfMRq-lnwo47CLxhwQvEx_72zDdLska/s1600/Baby+Maya.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb-h2lX14LCQ9sinRlJquqdW7vqJHga2XeDAmEhSQVZxuEh7fL7HTtPI9fGeYXkCYyHOeCSDHucEbbHBRSHh9NVN60C7XJ7-x4q8dG7YTLJutrtfMRq-lnwo47CLxhwQvEx_72zDdLska/s400/Baby+Maya.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604963655284113874" border="0" /></a>Newborn Maya<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinu7uSiXW5UrHHHMreplKCpH2p4kx8cGsP4Ir92hhEWLAXZAMl9i1Yr0KJKPCNct7IOchzHw2-Z0VwB52M3RbekhelU49R3bjQLa-ivpiigCqm6sKxa0Lfz8C37pS4gc2b81uH7Z874bLh/s1600/Maya+blessing.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinu7uSiXW5UrHHHMreplKCpH2p4kx8cGsP4Ir92hhEWLAXZAMl9i1Yr0KJKPCNct7IOchzHw2-Z0VwB52M3RbekhelU49R3bjQLa-ivpiigCqm6sKxa0Lfz8C37pS4gc2b81uH7Z874bLh/s400/Maya+blessing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604963507152101458" border="0" /></a>Mom holding Maya on the day of her blessing<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcXgMUeGRtnLEp-ra2lyXMM-NfR5IXxyJSRDl1qRk-36IXkDHz_LUBiYwoGJaQ7bv_q9_-V_WaIUVNRtKDGThSixIfjwZJi2-U-eOEknDwsZG8T6bW3xfzsOYcY650Fy1oQOLZjQUPkSz/s1600/Jason_Melinda.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcXgMUeGRtnLEp-ra2lyXMM-NfR5IXxyJSRDl1qRk-36IXkDHz_LUBiYwoGJaQ7bv_q9_-V_WaIUVNRtKDGThSixIfjwZJi2-U-eOEknDwsZG8T6bW3xfzsOYcY650Fy1oQOLZjQUPkSz/s400/Jason_Melinda.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604963859384281618" border="0" /></a>Jason and Melinda<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduARamX-1C_Bw2Mq83bdO2w8j7KD_TurYfws3_j61bgfgaA8iFf4jfiZ2Ce-EUaZsZqhEhEZUGlbwIMCv6XFDTQVDEGxn3_vBzUnr1NQbelIsZrf5yAg1yiPZw7300UK2Wmf0TSv5nqhX/s1600/Maria.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduARamX-1C_Bw2Mq83bdO2w8j7KD_TurYfws3_j61bgfgaA8iFf4jfiZ2Ce-EUaZsZqhEhEZUGlbwIMCv6XFDTQVDEGxn3_vBzUnr1NQbelIsZrf5yAg1yiPZw7300UK2Wmf0TSv5nqhX/s400/Maria.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604963950622106242" border="0" /></a>Maria<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim9J1H1kP42FndlMqcu5j06Z4FKMdCJcdnIiVNLfR6lK_XP7zwVKc-xcfQZtx84tiUK8YxXHsaubGQriLj80S0kwjeafWVblscgQbwfgbWU0jnJYkWKSIgB0kwIQPV-lROAVPiO2Pa-Q36/s1600/San+Antonio.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim9J1H1kP42FndlMqcu5j06Z4FKMdCJcdnIiVNLfR6lK_XP7zwVKc-xcfQZtx84tiUK8YxXHsaubGQriLj80S0kwjeafWVblscgQbwfgbWU0jnJYkWKSIgB0kwIQPV-lROAVPiO2Pa-Q36/s400/San+Antonio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604964124806071458" border="0" /></a>San Antonio<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSsOMLe45IzFlE73pryXbbae94XQi6w6kYfyzaSSEVGFsKNPBvUUxf_wy_VtOPWBg2CIyBAB-Z1dzlrO7xBsaCRG1i_q1JZu2TVpg4pOU5xRlNntv0PN_OqmyMxmpkroPamzx6XTAtQd-/s1600/Photo0008.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSsOMLe45IzFlE73pryXbbae94XQi6w6kYfyzaSSEVGFsKNPBvUUxf_wy_VtOPWBg2CIyBAB-Z1dzlrO7xBsaCRG1i_q1JZu2TVpg4pOU5xRlNntv0PN_OqmyMxmpkroPamzx6XTAtQd-/s400/Photo0008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604964434653086018" border="0" /></a>Me, newly blonded.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREGhwK1sscFymQ_x_x1UbrEP86xXKBYPhsvTwsiHg_s1xa650wggJV8moVTPS3p2C4y9lze5WKZOkSWfqupUhyphenhyphenJjAd0fnFg8pAdlaZ3RO3_FsL0MqPzi_3iuw33ex0a4q79fu9sowXJnS/s1600/Photo0012.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREGhwK1sscFymQ_x_x1UbrEP86xXKBYPhsvTwsiHg_s1xa650wggJV8moVTPS3p2C4y9lze5WKZOkSWfqupUhyphenhyphenJjAd0fnFg8pAdlaZ3RO3_FsL0MqPzi_3iuw33ex0a4q79fu9sowXJnS/s400/Photo0012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604964586936388786" border="0" /></a>Another blonde car pic. Haha!<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXufYfIxy6CP2kYzaeY0mDwe0IX7EnkG1KvZIHUEprUEbSTRUzigKfEnPh1rqSPR57tbDw3nHaPKc6KWHeLxwD5XFwzSbegpKOFSpg7V3vgPyuZoEC82AJAPXaB3MqyHt2GKsJ_sR0mdz/s1600/Festival+of+Colors.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXufYfIxy6CP2kYzaeY0mDwe0IX7EnkG1KvZIHUEprUEbSTRUzigKfEnPh1rqSPR57tbDw3nHaPKc6KWHeLxwD5XFwzSbegpKOFSpg7V3vgPyuZoEC82AJAPXaB3MqyHt2GKsJ_sR0mdz/s400/Festival+of+Colors.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604964754703977810" border="0" /></a>Festival of Colors in Spanish Fork<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG91N4hnKOmKu_qeVrdjhBXJT6NxTpTU144lgt0jvBLyD3bAALyisHgWwrnGOa1qKRZ2lzgNuWdd_biF24-elEftt5GhW_-pjUaDtpnQDTrN9udiXNsH6AjIIiRk-UDflRZ1COzvkxVMd2/s1600/Lex+Festival+of+Colors.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG91N4hnKOmKu_qeVrdjhBXJT6NxTpTU144lgt0jvBLyD3bAALyisHgWwrnGOa1qKRZ2lzgNuWdd_biF24-elEftt5GhW_-pjUaDtpnQDTrN9udiXNsH6AjIIiRk-UDflRZ1COzvkxVMd2/s400/Lex+Festival+of+Colors.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604964869761134690" border="0" /></a>Lex, post color throwing<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0J96IFwEDURKj-4fAzfBDPsUGG4d_ntNsE86oJwJNB4V-g-yCULTJtblATMRnZ15F8iSKK2IWY16HhstBcUDtkz5e0tAD12eE71nJugd7J9r98Se3qO4dZl4yp5MHdi6Ix8Sc_TnC9Eym/s1600/Bread+Rabbit.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0J96IFwEDURKj-4fAzfBDPsUGG4d_ntNsE86oJwJNB4V-g-yCULTJtblATMRnZ15F8iSKK2IWY16HhstBcUDtkz5e0tAD12eE71nJugd7J9r98Se3qO4dZl4yp5MHdi6Ix8Sc_TnC9Eym/s400/Bread+Rabbit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604965074955624354" border="0" /></a>Bread Rabbit!<br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOXrQLNTi2m5zhu_KsEkiaa6QUPHrdz_9gMI61ZBlX25_R2sDyUEyuksVBDONEY0hirIK9TnPUL207fhsFKsP_6y4qm7rgr3BwTnT-u-QSvSd-C6jxK1MBToVgm9dIezwdyVh754F9uDl/s1600/Benny.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOXrQLNTi2m5zhu_KsEkiaa6QUPHrdz_9gMI61ZBlX25_R2sDyUEyuksVBDONEY0hirIK9TnPUL207fhsFKsP_6y4qm7rgr3BwTnT-u-QSvSd-C6jxK1MBToVgm9dIezwdyVh754F9uDl/s400/Benny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604965209061282082" border="0" /></a>Remember this one, Ben? Haha! I think this one was sent from Portland. Sweet sweater, Benny!<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTERLf0i9G5o1f_mmV_9SBpck6HV6vsrp7t3G5S5l6ZEnQOqtOkkSyxAs358aZ-P7jNOS4uA0KyAPi2DvXruU3Itxv8X5zFcYZAazaUi7g-iy45TiTLScYIsZa2BcTmeFKyMTbF1rswncq/s1600/Maya.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTERLf0i9G5o1f_mmV_9SBpck6HV6vsrp7t3G5S5l6ZEnQOqtOkkSyxAs358aZ-P7jNOS4uA0KyAPi2DvXruU3Itxv8X5zFcYZAazaUi7g-iy45TiTLScYIsZa2BcTmeFKyMTbF1rswncq/s400/Maya.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604965885404878594" border="0" /></a>Maya<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhrKwslVwG8A647laUhBEphyHMObuSmJ1W1xyCShpYMhlufhAW4jc3YyEA_GRz4dLnaW7_qLXzMyh8eLlrJw7QZfA0Qom5DO9_mmsmmwigqYCCH1cJpTB1l3dKkyudK87dJYdA3WhO1C8/s1600/Rocky%25231.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhrKwslVwG8A647laUhBEphyHMObuSmJ1W1xyCShpYMhlufhAW4jc3YyEA_GRz4dLnaW7_qLXzMyh8eLlrJw7QZfA0Qom5DO9_mmsmmwigqYCCH1cJpTB1l3dKkyudK87dJYdA3WhO1C8/s400/Rocky%25231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604965972982718018" border="0" /></a>Rocky, before he had hair.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9kVZO3DaE2FwVmTYlijYNItOfP9gKKqCi5mcpALmEz2R8IcBYLi9HQNRgKOwTbjo8RjRiw0zeXlYgo2JyNE94XrDHBKTbyER45Y6ENmmo7yGtTxnxmMNyJ1OZ7f0hMqOWtQr1Sye5nVfw/s1600/Rocky+and+Isaiah%25231.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9kVZO3DaE2FwVmTYlijYNItOfP9gKKqCi5mcpALmEz2R8IcBYLi9HQNRgKOwTbjo8RjRiw0zeXlYgo2JyNE94XrDHBKTbyER45Y6ENmmo7yGtTxnxmMNyJ1OZ7f0hMqOWtQr1Sye5nVfw/s400/Rocky+and+Isaiah%25231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604966098905708146" border="0" /></a>Rocky and Isaiah<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56PovnQ2M2IHnONv56sxIYnq71JKbpNOtoUS0D2BUowzDDakc5Yjoe5joYbUO_wEhM-oXoB7R6L-9eULGRdEy8llyxuz9qbJXsO47gAFzrqdfoGmnT5zpqLii57uMAO6E_eL0mTo3iRoH/s1600/Photo0010%25231.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56PovnQ2M2IHnONv56sxIYnq71JKbpNOtoUS0D2BUowzDDakc5Yjoe5joYbUO_wEhM-oXoB7R6L-9eULGRdEy8llyxuz9qbJXsO47gAFzrqdfoGmnT5zpqLii57uMAO6E_eL0mTo3iRoH/s400/Photo0010%25231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604966213339457618" border="0" /></a>Me, taken a few minutes ago. My phone has gots to go!<br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-5788975326275053252011-05-02T23:21:00.006-06:002011-05-03T00:57:20.388-06:00Redneck Golf and RhinosWho knew that I'd end up freezing my butt off while camping in Arizona? Not I. I used to love going up into the Uintas to camp during the summers when I lived in Utah. You were guaranteed freezing cold nights while up in the Uintas. I didn't imagine that I'd come across the same type of thing in Arizona. Good thing I have a decent sleeping bag, because I definitely needed it this past weekend. A bunch of us went up to the Mogollon Rim to camp. Our campsite was near Bear Canyon Lake up there, and it was beautiful. It was cold, too. It's a bit early to go camping up there, but that didn't stop us from having a good time. I'm really glad I was able to go up. I almost forgot how much I love camping, especially staying up late and sitting by the campfire. My camera decided to die about halfway through the trip so I wasn't able to get any footage of Karen at the lake catching her first fish! It's time for a new camera finally...I'll just add that item to my growing list of things I need to purchase, right underneath "new white iPhone" and "plane ticket to Hawaii." Here's the stuff I was able to capture with my camera before it went kaput.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgahXcrHb2CjMFTUfvFwuf2anMkbyyBnUqLOlPCcbZbWe6Ql_R1cxwqzQ3A1l4XJvBnOKGYYy_GT184soBkpb0WaXodQlenFHB80_2kR_wXEplm7mHQb8smKCOWQ7AGFFxiv0fWsX7KccZ/s1600/Camp1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgahXcrHb2CjMFTUfvFwuf2anMkbyyBnUqLOlPCcbZbWe6Ql_R1cxwqzQ3A1l4XJvBnOKGYYy_GT184soBkpb0WaXodQlenFHB80_2kR_wXEplm7mHQb8smKCOWQ7AGFFxiv0fWsX7KccZ/s400/Camp1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602372430696532866" border="0" /></a>Hanging out after breakfast on Saturday<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihCgYDFasRrU1c7n3ldVewlCrtxhz0yrUt6WqzifJ2WGb8KC1_qEXCKVwiBuv0-B1Md4XrfTl9_SuSICi4l6xeOSOKseo8uIbJm9tY5JUcsJN50nQBxVkf3hh4HJNjO2EmpZU8y-1B57Tz/s1600/Breakfast.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihCgYDFasRrU1c7n3ldVewlCrtxhz0yrUt6WqzifJ2WGb8KC1_qEXCKVwiBuv0-B1Md4XrfTl9_SuSICi4l6xeOSOKseo8uIbJm9tY5JUcsJN50nQBxVkf3hh4HJNjO2EmpZU8y-1B57Tz/s400/Breakfast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602372676328894786" border="0" /></a>Greg and Chad cleaning up after making breakfast burritos and chorizo for everyone. So good!<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuL6otaktKVz-t-dsd-SjhWjQls7a2RNCiGCcpWakxD6pkkEBdckfMHAvHd5KBMMjOP5xAH48qKQTICQR3pvcUxjHbt-aGj4wgkaupSiRivTyfB_lEDl2yLnmybWoMzdbJImHeAuxWEqa/s1600/Catch.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuL6otaktKVz-t-dsd-SjhWjQls7a2RNCiGCcpWakxD6pkkEBdckfMHAvHd5KBMMjOP5xAH48qKQTICQR3pvcUxjHbt-aGj4wgkaupSiRivTyfB_lEDl2yLnmybWoMzdbJImHeAuxWEqa/s400/Catch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602372932776132114" border="0" /></a>Karen and Dan playing catch<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iUwfd0vHX1KQzcNNd06Yt-nwQ2PSNFa0uZ-Bbyrm5NMZAt0OuVJAYFUZy_-el8tmTnHEPttaTIfgpgEMe7-n8SiKpdCJ0BnNwGUPSUX7JYyc1YfR_EhxVAPUgRpO_KGlC0m251KytmwH/s1600/Redneck+Golf1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iUwfd0vHX1KQzcNNd06Yt-nwQ2PSNFa0uZ-Bbyrm5NMZAt0OuVJAYFUZy_-el8tmTnHEPttaTIfgpgEMe7-n8SiKpdCJ0BnNwGUPSUX7JYyc1YfR_EhxVAPUgRpO_KGlC0m251KytmwH/s400/Redneck+Golf1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602373290323512866" border="0" /></a>Starting up a round of redneck golf<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQ3mZkJ-lfdeF5UUASxGjAkJ6US99m-HXLTZhPVGiUJFN7jmg61APvrHhWqPYOL7wmblcZlMrLx9qEnwUoBaOzaIwwYQtAf85ENm9y5iYNdW6fMP0pUDiiOXoTI2yucy5ZVws-IYd3kQd/s1600/Redneck+Golf2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQ3mZkJ-lfdeF5UUASxGjAkJ6US99m-HXLTZhPVGiUJFN7jmg61APvrHhWqPYOL7wmblcZlMrLx9qEnwUoBaOzaIwwYQtAf85ENm9y5iYNdW6fMP0pUDiiOXoTI2yucy5ZVws-IYd3kQd/s400/Redneck+Golf2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602373509008776146" border="0" /></a>Amy teaching me how to play redneck golf. I got pretty good after a little coaching. Amy's my visiting teacher and always has the best stories to tell. It was lots of fun having her around the campfire late at night.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8YIge0wnCemGZPKNCU7-cMIblzOPq9r1yeKDjaVYQs0-AdguTHn0JCaqmv-1BRNMpKBeDbhJ8aXX2ZTBnxTafjpEXXWe1xomLjEkeZY0_946Pz097Vx1ZzQlsKpWTT0OAN3GMRqjLlvW/s1600/Redneck+Golf3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8YIge0wnCemGZPKNCU7-cMIblzOPq9r1yeKDjaVYQs0-AdguTHn0JCaqmv-1BRNMpKBeDbhJ8aXX2ZTBnxTafjpEXXWe1xomLjEkeZY0_946Pz097Vx1ZzQlsKpWTT0OAN3GMRqjLlvW/s400/Redneck+Golf3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602373719772996130" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIu21Z4Ft3kU_C6UnrZzQ0iA0Y9PgSkZdvl6O-Np_3AXaL_reh9_tMRiNpi_cPKfrTuJub-CnPa-EKiqlrRDxBtWSnIx8APV69QRaGf7iytRpk9H7ic_mWBWBba8catgkHHImhLtCeIvXQ/s1600/Rim1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIu21Z4Ft3kU_C6UnrZzQ0iA0Y9PgSkZdvl6O-Np_3AXaL_reh9_tMRiNpi_cPKfrTuJub-CnPa-EKiqlrRDxBtWSnIx8APV69QRaGf7iytRpk9H7ic_mWBWBba8catgkHHImhLtCeIvXQ/s400/Rim1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602374500192805058" border="0" /></a>View from the rim.<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgz0i-G9wgjdo4EZnlJDTGfZDO9QAMAwk5FyAC7yBVPwrrPsNknHHMWZUnhOhW-hISuoLBg1n21mnuvXLJfCv9wKqHze0ean0R3j5uSknVQ02O195a6WiWaTk6kTzY5joGSsidFXAhHfs/s1600/Rim2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgz0i-G9wgjdo4EZnlJDTGfZDO9QAMAwk5FyAC7yBVPwrrPsNknHHMWZUnhOhW-hISuoLBg1n21mnuvXLJfCv9wKqHze0ean0R3j5uSknVQ02O195a6WiWaTk6kTzY5joGSsidFXAhHfs/s400/Rim2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602374675953495298" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxVyqnbWfOdmyK4qPbzcY5t0lP50Te3VIhNwu6squ8riwuOfvfEv2xk2p0dOJFJha_31GNZODJfu6ckmGALBA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Here's some super compressed footage of a ride I took on Chad's quad. I had never been on one of these things before and had lots of fun. It felt like I was on a roller coaster. We rode it to the top of the rim to check out the view.</div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-33298006017327403152011-04-26T12:14:00.003-06:002011-04-26T13:22:09.594-06:00Friends Are More Important Than MoneyThe title of this post is one of several very yoga-esque phrases I came across this past Friday. I tried out yoga for the first time on Friday with Alan, my new found friend I mentioned earlier. Alan has become a good friend. I'm not sure exactly how we became good friends, it just happened without me realizing it I guess. I think Alan decided that the two of us were going to be pals before we even had a conversation with one another. I'm usually really standoffish with people in the beginning stages of getting to know them which results in a very long process of becoming friends. But Alan didn't let me do my regular standoffish thing, he was pretty aggressive in his friendship recruiting, so we quickly became friends before I even realized it had happened. I'm happy to have him as a new friend though! He's a really good one, always checking up on me, and has turned out to be a person who is genuinely concerned about the well-being of others. Alan's Jewish, has long shaggy hair and wears really expensive jeans. He's also claimed that I am the very first LDS person he's ever met; this has led to many interesting conversations between the two of us. Karen and I have managed to get him to come out to a hike/bonfire that our ward put on a couple weekends ago. Alan said he had a good time, and afterward had a million questions about the whole social dynamic of the activity. He was pretty fascinated by the whole thing, and I can't say that I blame him for that in the least. Anyway, let me tell you a little about Friday's yoga session. I loved it! Since I like to work out, I knew I would enjoy it to a certain extent, but I didn't expect to love it as much as I did. I'm definitely going to try it again. Alan does yoga several times a week at this studio which specializes in hot yoga. Hot yoga sessions take place in a room heated up to about 105 degrees. So you walk into the studio and are sweating even before the session begins. It was so funny, I walked into the studio with Alan and was like, "Okay, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be...Is this as warm as it gets?" Alan turned to me and said, "Oh no, it gets waaaay more hot than this." At that point, I got a little apprehensive, but luckily I did fine. The heat didn't end up bothering me at all really. Everyone's just dripping with sweat by the end of the session, which lasts about 1 hour and 15. Alan kept on checking up on me during the session, making sure I didn't pass out! Toward the end of the workout, I even managed to do one of these....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsJBRFJFxuJV-U36kjtYp0HbZjTYsV08YxE0AglHtdQ7jDX0Xm3H-HTR0m6t6Yz7Cz4gysRXy0ufj6ya1QPcosz7-A6y5AEb62jiy_TCe3RQCCPUAIiEpgLJZe6g34WNRxLS5aVf6oVJE/s1600/309.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsJBRFJFxuJV-U36kjtYp0HbZjTYsV08YxE0AglHtdQ7jDX0Xm3H-HTR0m6t6Yz7Cz4gysRXy0ufj6ya1QPcosz7-A6y5AEb62jiy_TCe3RQCCPUAIiEpgLJZe6g34WNRxLS5aVf6oVJE/s400/309.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599973606838609026" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Haha! I was so proud of myself. For me the craziest thing about doing yoga is how much it gets your heart pumping. I mean, I was concentrating on doing all these different slow, meditative yoga poses and before I knew it my heart was pumping at the rate it would've been had I been jogging or cycling. It's a really great workout. I found out there's another studio in Gilbert just like the one Alan took me to in Phoenix, so I'm going to start going to that one I think. I love being drenched in sweat after a workout...makes me feel like I actually accomplished something. Here are a few more yoga-esque phrases I noticed on Friday. It was a good time for sure.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;">Stress is related to 99% of all illness.<br /><br />Jealousy works the opposite way you want it to.<br /><br />Your outlook on life is a direct reflection of how much you like yourself.<br /><br />The pursuit of happiness is the source of all unhappiness.<br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-19177407334930485592011-04-18T19:55:00.019-06:002011-04-18T21:49:37.862-06:00I Know a Lot About Everything but Not Enough About One ThingI can't believe I haven't posted on this thing since September. I owe my loyal fan base a sincere apology...So Tess, I'm very, very sorry about not posting since September. Ha! I miss you, Tess! See you in May! Okay, let's get down to bidness. Lots and lots has happened since September, so I'll go ahead and post the monthly highlights.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >OCTOBER</span><br /><br />October was pretty uneventful. Howevah, I heard that Isaiah and Jason dressed up as pirates for Halloween, and that's nothing short of awesome! Melinda made these amazing costumes with her own two hands of course.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVj_n0Toh-4RUAJ8dYXYdYbvP92kLemuUWf3My128-QC3KeR51oLbaUkV5pl5TcS2q-QyYA4kiQuOijH3G1dCNwu4GTmUhTOqUt5KWzrzwybwyeElWYq_feQLAD1K4bonusdxc3gDKsU5/s1600/Jason_Isaiah_OCT2010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVj_n0Toh-4RUAJ8dYXYdYbvP92kLemuUWf3My128-QC3KeR51oLbaUkV5pl5TcS2q-QyYA4kiQuOijH3G1dCNwu4GTmUhTOqUt5KWzrzwybwyeElWYq_feQLAD1K4bonusdxc3gDKsU5/s400/Jason_Isaiah_OCT2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597123963732459698" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >NOVEMBER</span><br /><br />I got to go to Missouri for Thanksgiving, and I was so glad I did. It was so very fun to be with Melanie, Luke, and Merrill. We even got to go to the Nauvoo temple while I was there. That temple is simply beautiful. I couldn't get over the wood floors found throughout the inside, so cool.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIWGGmxi8U6zfeTZVft0xgxOTjXpCzfGXhYBR4Skk5PMfc80CsH53BHfN1eLVIJLGROGc7F_MwqDiXRaXIi-wkH5V1qc03ncOM7OSZCXK3KKk5R1fLKlsor0g3ReRtAYe2yVrwj2k-h5N/s1600/Merrill_Nov2010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIWGGmxi8U6zfeTZVft0xgxOTjXpCzfGXhYBR4Skk5PMfc80CsH53BHfN1eLVIJLGROGc7F_MwqDiXRaXIi-wkH5V1qc03ncOM7OSZCXK3KKk5R1fLKlsor0g3ReRtAYe2yVrwj2k-h5N/s400/Merrill_Nov2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597125180814905186" border="0" /></a>Merrill<br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVonzvZgMf6IZr2rrKiN_tXo5TN_XM5QirW-56G8MlWZeAnzcNjVrpOs6jB0Hg_ktYiTS92Q0b5XeeF6eiVIfEWzh49uVnU7nBJwbferT4IhV8fH55V20RCwjI4wyMLN9EUew7RoCuTSi/s1600/Petersons_Nov2010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVonzvZgMf6IZr2rrKiN_tXo5TN_XM5QirW-56G8MlWZeAnzcNjVrpOs6jB0Hg_ktYiTS92Q0b5XeeF6eiVIfEWzh49uVnU7nBJwbferT4IhV8fH55V20RCwjI4wyMLN9EUew7RoCuTSi/s400/Petersons_Nov2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597125395428391682" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKz4t0amwiIb-VZmS5Z6RDcFV4AxE9fmKhN5D73Vb12fIbhbPhjSjKCiLRvJZAADqLAP_Nq0a0b2GJKJYeHchJrf-XjvSXwA7PRPcL0vJXhjnD2IE460NobkK8hUXosEjSW-OyxY1QJly/s1600/Nauvoo_NOV2010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKz4t0amwiIb-VZmS5Z6RDcFV4AxE9fmKhN5D73Vb12fIbhbPhjSjKCiLRvJZAADqLAP_Nq0a0b2GJKJYeHchJrf-XjvSXwA7PRPcL0vJXhjnD2IE460NobkK8hUXosEjSW-OyxY1QJly/s400/Nauvoo_NOV2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597125640637564610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >DECEMBER</span><br /><br />My whole family was able to be together up in Utah for Christmas which was fantastic. I just realized that I don't have any pics to show evidence of the grand time we all had together, so this shot of Melanie dressing her tree with Luke and Merrill in Missouri right after Thanksgiving will have to do.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgVvviRWiI-ZNqVgB565IblfAs66xp5pt_QULMKzP4vaEUwBIHWE2d2D-PTCCQttsyfvAWXxjsJvOjyufqzWbbQLjEm-pFFjmR9QujEIz-GtBwBeUkqj2lLIRMsXXr-PKlPxIGOWowYwR/s1600/DEC+2010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgVvviRWiI-ZNqVgB565IblfAs66xp5pt_QULMKzP4vaEUwBIHWE2d2D-PTCCQttsyfvAWXxjsJvOjyufqzWbbQLjEm-pFFjmR9QujEIz-GtBwBeUkqj2lLIRMsXXr-PKlPxIGOWowYwR/s400/DEC+2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597125832208059858" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >JANUARY</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIETYhPPVoQLZw1RdSE41jhLHY3q_cGA9ZooZ3QC0Rp4-H2_msu-NzvXLIKMjCk_INBg_htMHswu7mtug1mBwktN0CJ-YXE75GthVgiXKd1MyMn8tYVCnVQr4wuu6RvlrAWF3JDC460jS/s1600/arizona-flag.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIETYhPPVoQLZw1RdSE41jhLHY3q_cGA9ZooZ3QC0Rp4-H2_msu-NzvXLIKMjCk_INBg_htMHswu7mtug1mBwktN0CJ-YXE75GthVgiXKd1MyMn8tYVCnVQr4wuu6RvlrAWF3JDC460jS/s400/arizona-flag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597126038012482162" border="0" /></a><br />I moved to Arizona! Yes, that's right, I just can't stay away from the good 'ol AZ. This place was definitely calling to me, so I decided to move down to Gilbert at the beginning of January. I moved in with my good friend, Karen, and have LOVED being in Arizona. I've been substitute teaching down here while I look for a job. Substituting has actually been a lot more fun than I ever thought it would be, so that's a relief. One of the many things I love about Arizona is that I feel so at home here. For some reason I feel like I fit in with the people down here so much more than I ever did up in Salt Lake, so it's been really easy to make new friends. PLUS Grandma Fern just lives up the road from me a short ways! Life is good!<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >FEBRUARY</span><br /><br />This is Pete Yorn's guitar pick from a concert I went to in Tempe on Valentine's Day. February's highlight? I think yes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8XbMhyphenhyphenrQCM6LTTkp7XB6ycAXuKx3rtbxQpey57q4ssbGnpO5QGjCK4d9fWZ77qQnl-F1BC-wW0TB6_Q0xGuUbHqcm35v72rnSVlnyaSg37jwpLgulyuvu3wbaDIa-PMnWT-NZRgaVMRLE/s1600/FEB.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8XbMhyphenhyphenrQCM6LTTkp7XB6ycAXuKx3rtbxQpey57q4ssbGnpO5QGjCK4d9fWZ77qQnl-F1BC-wW0TB6_Q0xGuUbHqcm35v72rnSVlnyaSg37jwpLgulyuvu3wbaDIa-PMnWT-NZRgaVMRLE/s400/FEB.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597126401579127858" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >MARCH</span><br /><br />March was super fun and busy. I turned 26! Can you believe that?! I know, crazy. Here are some of the high points...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDAxJq_zV3oFljY8B1dHx4eXE-VhWOFSqaK_QuEmXiZwtPdJ8IxYZib3KHdUgj2CREblHwfiB7_g8BFVs7md4qTSqhrgcC0983OeZzsnEcdJTF10e7UtZpEzFbOgy4TXAC9Y77UDWqhZF/s1600/MAR9th.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDAxJq_zV3oFljY8B1dHx4eXE-VhWOFSqaK_QuEmXiZwtPdJ8IxYZib3KHdUgj2CREblHwfiB7_g8BFVs7md4qTSqhrgcC0983OeZzsnEcdJTF10e7UtZpEzFbOgy4TXAC9Y77UDWqhZF/s400/MAR9th.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597126655675785858" border="0" /></a>Here I am at the ballpark on my bday. I had lots of bday fun in spite of the fact that I turned 26! Ugh!<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5emdbGqDy30KFmSL4RYMVfGGybxNDxAkKBZAe9yGQBiuTJmW73F3lXaxT502sa2FqXFJ6w4nYte1uKgFw6knzePlDRGJuZ7hAOJtJCmilQ_sduGmXefqtEucSMO2j0H1nrE81Ejws4Ber/s1600/MAR1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5emdbGqDy30KFmSL4RYMVfGGybxNDxAkKBZAe9yGQBiuTJmW73F3lXaxT502sa2FqXFJ6w4nYte1uKgFw6knzePlDRGJuZ7hAOJtJCmilQ_sduGmXefqtEucSMO2j0H1nrE81Ejws4Ber/s400/MAR1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597127088575835874" border="0" /></a>San Diego trip! This is Laguna Beach. Most beautiful day ever.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKY_h5KutMeywxMmPnJ9Yo6dt1CKwXA-XVGT5Ndi1tXEEO3ttY0j2pudLZ-_SOD819cXUO6ED6V-1sYcvbXODLfs4NNBwiiCD7-hx_lDIdaaPioWeASpVYS2cXWphyphenhyphen82BPkEa2FReuRmg/s1600/MAR2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKY_h5KutMeywxMmPnJ9Yo6dt1CKwXA-XVGT5Ndi1tXEEO3ttY0j2pudLZ-_SOD819cXUO6ED6V-1sYcvbXODLfs4NNBwiiCD7-hx_lDIdaaPioWeASpVYS2cXWphyphenhyphen82BPkEa2FReuRmg/s400/MAR2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597127258287480738" border="0" /></a>And here I am sporting a brand new sunburn on the most beautiful day ever. Check that out! Sick.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbqZoz-kB2_u4mKwhiK1SNhQOxXRQJf-iJW9scZtJHpHcggOZX7W6g2IAjPvXBUMqhwcEGTV-t9-OOtOQ5UucJT8mCU6u9u5ZQMtGCK3ImhghTv91QLR_sv86PB0GEHPJqMUnEy54wtRDj/s1600/DadBday2011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbqZoz-kB2_u4mKwhiK1SNhQOxXRQJf-iJW9scZtJHpHcggOZX7W6g2IAjPvXBUMqhwcEGTV-t9-OOtOQ5UucJT8mCU6u9u5ZQMtGCK3ImhghTv91QLR_sv86PB0GEHPJqMUnEy54wtRDj/s400/DadBday2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597127537558902514" border="0" /></a>Trip up to Utah for Phil's bday party. Dad prefers pie over cake on his bday.<br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyg017ClMNFNuLoWEtGWrDFx_Nx0IdXTiuO4nfahDkVAJa91iV4VyQ16n9CGp_TTY6TJzxz8Uy0Sgw_n-P8tw5JApEMY2YZV5-y48iVPfBXvrnxnaiWzryGEhfbmDSxBVyQIBSPzvjIFP/s1600/DadBday2011_2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyg017ClMNFNuLoWEtGWrDFx_Nx0IdXTiuO4nfahDkVAJa91iV4VyQ16n9CGp_TTY6TJzxz8Uy0Sgw_n-P8tw5JApEMY2YZV5-y48iVPfBXvrnxnaiWzryGEhfbmDSxBVyQIBSPzvjIFP/s400/DadBday2011_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597127741474108066" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18GyH_z9R3TQIuQ1tlXnpfOBNyWeI6JwneIWFceWqQPIBb3JmVqtM_n08RwdoOVESQV2ojj_oRDLBKQqmaa5jICaylSS79KO6U8uVLGhbBRT4ffx375lUMZL9P5Ij0Cygdr-pXwJxRGsE/s1600/Maya_March+2011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18GyH_z9R3TQIuQ1tlXnpfOBNyWeI6JwneIWFceWqQPIBb3JmVqtM_n08RwdoOVESQV2ojj_oRDLBKQqmaa5jICaylSS79KO6U8uVLGhbBRT4ffx375lUMZL9P5Ij0Cygdr-pXwJxRGsE/s400/Maya_March+2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597128313100988946" border="0" /></a>Baby Girl.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfETTboOfou2rqVATRUtMh8pBSLOWO3pbk8N9eKeiD8caA9a2j59BRkTOjx2RvagVnFY83-3uAkjb1QV6HbDTkVDySqH7eUkvxDCIeJePgNehRu-k6xlVuUnpDNcMlYY63y0mruV5KJ8Mb/s1600/Isaac_Luke.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfETTboOfou2rqVATRUtMh8pBSLOWO3pbk8N9eKeiD8caA9a2j59BRkTOjx2RvagVnFY83-3uAkjb1QV6HbDTkVDySqH7eUkvxDCIeJePgNehRu-k6xlVuUnpDNcMlYY63y0mruV5KJ8Mb/s400/Isaac_Luke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597128505403749074" border="0" /></a>Isaac and Luke in Dad's office. I miss them so much.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsw0FHmpiqQNLJ7LOA_4wUmqpfx4jnoupgHMWcpZFGqhMDAqstQzqIr5lg1SHn58PQyTPliA8hqpNVMBUeCuWmoASAC8KAeej9exDtOpj-rpIEJT2MoLKVs84SuMLbTqX96CdyrENAn4Qj/s1600/PowMowMarch+2011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsw0FHmpiqQNLJ7LOA_4wUmqpfx4jnoupgHMWcpZFGqhMDAqstQzqIr5lg1SHn58PQyTPliA8hqpNVMBUeCuWmoASAC8KAeej9exDtOpj-rpIEJT2MoLKVs84SuMLbTqX96CdyrENAn4Qj/s400/PowMowMarch+2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597127923306514034" border="0" /></a>Matt and I made it up to Powder Mtn while I was visiting. It was so much fun! I wish I was up there right now cause I heard it's been snowing like crazy this past week. This was a good day.<br /></div><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><br />APRIL</span><br /><br />This month I've been really lucky. I was able to go to Missouri AGAIN and see Melanie on her birthday! Take a look at how grown up Merrill looks. He's so cute and cheezes it up for the camera every time. It was lots of fun to be with them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6POx2_hw8p1bIDrS9pBezC0ndS9_DUtTOdstatyF6HbGT5biFaIxU396DqYLXfErtJSyDDNW6_4Cs6R-KU7m2b5JPF6Om5lcXzs9IcCcuIk6ySH21ZkrRHSjqBwK5upSQaZwt8C1jy8JG/s1600/Merrill_April+2011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6POx2_hw8p1bIDrS9pBezC0ndS9_DUtTOdstatyF6HbGT5biFaIxU396DqYLXfErtJSyDDNW6_4Cs6R-KU7m2b5JPF6Om5lcXzs9IcCcuIk6ySH21ZkrRHSjqBwK5upSQaZwt8C1jy8JG/s400/Merrill_April+2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597128707655052466" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aBN3u5Rsvd8zJCFx0L75Wh2jL3dzgcSPEzz6fiu15GjoH9y8mq1HtD-lwNl0Ib73JWKUM0Cn91c8-s6mmyikwhZ_chIOkLExEnLKW_Xu4qBl9O_K0nho_Blz8dmhMLPHVb3CDYPqvPfd/s1600/Luke+and+Merrill_April+2011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aBN3u5Rsvd8zJCFx0L75Wh2jL3dzgcSPEzz6fiu15GjoH9y8mq1HtD-lwNl0Ib73JWKUM0Cn91c8-s6mmyikwhZ_chIOkLExEnLKW_Xu4qBl9O_K0nho_Blz8dmhMLPHVb3CDYPqvPfd/s400/Luke+and+Merrill_April+2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597129015628550466" border="0" /></a>Merrill and Luke<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDwO2d5JBtNwzSzO21k6OrTRHXzqkkQMGaNucGdrfpk7s-5BFq0CR2J4ndOUVNT8zm8PrJ2Oa_KJQtdBOykwA3HG_Kv_PXgyI8zrJi0uDENGw0c2DHW6Bfa8P2ZDWktGP4YZj7Hy81zMV/s1600/Mels+Bday+April+2011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDwO2d5JBtNwzSzO21k6OrTRHXzqkkQMGaNucGdrfpk7s-5BFq0CR2J4ndOUVNT8zm8PrJ2Oa_KJQtdBOykwA3HG_Kv_PXgyI8zrJi0uDENGw0c2DHW6Bfa8P2ZDWktGP4YZj7Hy81zMV/s400/Mels+Bday+April+2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597129206910992018" border="0" /></a>Happy Bday to Melanie!<br /><br /><br /></div>So there you have it. I intend to start updating this thing a lot more often so check back soon...I plan on trying <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bikram_Yoga">Bikram Yoga</a> out this Friday with my new found gay friend, Alan, so you better believe I'll be blogging about that!Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-74227178233600813392010-09-01T16:07:00.002-06:002010-09-01T16:21:47.132-06:00Try this.Matt just sent me a link to this really cool interactive movie.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/">The Wilderness Downtown</a><br /><br />I tried it, and it's pretty amazing. It prompts you to type in the address of the home where you grew up. If you're like me and didn't grow up in just one particular place, just be sure to put in an address that means something to you when it asks. I put in my grandma's address, and if you want to see what happened when I did that, here's the link:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/#5250+E+Casper+Rd,+Mesa,+AZ+85205,+USA">Grandma's House in Mesa</a><br /><br />The music by Arcade Fire is pretty cool, too.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-2649470151143650912010-08-26T08:59:00.003-06:002010-08-27T10:54:50.952-06:00Businessman by Day, Poet by NightEarlier this morning I read a poem by Wallace Stevens. Isn't the name Wallace Stevens a perfect name for a poet? I think it is. Interestingly enough though (at least I think it's interesting), while Stevens was alive, he wasn't really recognized as a poet as much as a successful businessman. It wasn't until he passed away that people started to consider him one of the major American poets of the 20th century. Why does that always happen to these poor artists? It has been said that Stevens led a quiet, uneventful life--spending his days behind a desk at the office and composing poems on his way to and from work and in the evenings. Some people may think that to be a sad description of someone's life, but I don't think so. I like the idea of Wallace Stevens working as a businessman by day and a poet by night. I view him as someone who wrote poetry for the pure love of it rather than any fame or fortune that may come of something like that. I like to think that he used the power of his imagination to transform the uneventful things of his life into exciting things, things to be admired. Besides being spoken of as someone who led a quiet, uneventful life, it has also been said that Stevens' work is infused with the light and color of an Impressionist painting. I love that description of his work and think it's a true one, especially after reading the following poem. Impressionists try to simulate actual reflected light in their paintings so to say that Stevens' poems have elements within them that help the reader to conjure up images of light or reflected light is a huge compliment; a compliment that I think is much deserved in this case. Gosh, I really like this guy's name. I'll be reading more of his stuff this week for sure.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(207, 101, 0);font-size:15px;" ></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">by Wallace Stevens</span></span> <br /><br /> Light the first light of evening, as in a room<br />In which we rest and, for small reason, think<br />The world imagined is the ultimate good.<br /><br />This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.<br />It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,<br />Out of all the indifferences, into one thing:<br /><br />Within a single thing, a single shawl<br />Wrapped tightly round us, since we are poor, a warmth,<br />A light, a power, the miraculous influence.<br /><br />Here, now, we forget each other and ourselves.<br />We feel the obscurity of an order, a whole,<br />A knowledge, that which arranged the rendezvous.<br /><br />Within its vital boundary, the mind.<br />We say God and the imagination are one...<br />How high that highest candle lights the dark.<br /><br />Out of this same light, out of the central mind,<br />We make a dwelling in the evening air,<br />In which being there together is enough.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-42407593489696318882010-08-22T19:56:00.011-06:002010-08-22T20:38:48.428-06:00Weekend Photos<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYTrF7kOimePQgKqBtttd3qqawGcI4XVJRBrRMiycjwr_yfdoOolVj9LzgvQ6hStdGC9l0qMS0dzXYqWcqlZn4dZauSxOWd3DxJp8La_0r6SgTKAnLrDMznn3O0j2IsOl2USicitjpea2/s1600/IMG_2023.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYTrF7kOimePQgKqBtttd3qqawGcI4XVJRBrRMiycjwr_yfdoOolVj9LzgvQ6hStdGC9l0qMS0dzXYqWcqlZn4dZauSxOWd3DxJp8La_0r6SgTKAnLrDMznn3O0j2IsOl2USicitjpea2/s400/IMG_2023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508420983818932786" border="0" /></a>Fremont vs. Jordan. We were pulling for Fremont. Fremont lost.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkN7JfiEQ86wKvX8mTSzmw7DFkJvIccDo4IDYstdOKaMI0EM9rx99Fz-UguIT7r27gGoV7lc0Ryys9wY6e5_ePdrFI3HNNz0R_BG45ca9wraxvgmOl3hikSONgjl8IqMZ4Phcv5H4ZNJOE/s1600/IMG_2026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkN7JfiEQ86wKvX8mTSzmw7DFkJvIccDo4IDYstdOKaMI0EM9rx99Fz-UguIT7r27gGoV7lc0Ryys9wY6e5_ePdrFI3HNNz0R_BG45ca9wraxvgmOl3hikSONgjl8IqMZ4Phcv5H4ZNJOE/s400/IMG_2026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508421289591703634" border="0" /></a>Brooke and Lex. I actually got one of Lex with his eyes open! Only took me three shots.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rbempP3sTWNdHRIYYbDTbo9nLHVENaC71fKMeBThl-FIjKfDfomDZXUmDSG5KANDYQpRT12NyCafuARMXSiazs77lvkGF4dPya15O88bT7VAfMcCeUURqhlpSU93AESeH0ZPMoPzXX6y/s1600/IMG_2016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rbempP3sTWNdHRIYYbDTbo9nLHVENaC71fKMeBThl-FIjKfDfomDZXUmDSG5KANDYQpRT12NyCafuARMXSiazs77lvkGF4dPya15O88bT7VAfMcCeUURqhlpSU93AESeH0ZPMoPzXX6y/s400/IMG_2016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508421655093975970" border="0" /></a>Yes, I wore my zebra prints with confidence this weekend. I have an interview with a charter school in West Valley on Tuesday...Do you think I should sport these to my interview?<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZkj0hOgTwq_yrCjsXD80eHFI6cgT5dnbzQAXdqpTaZFjC3i8v3ksrwPyShVkq5mCfoEEiALZvUPgyIl3i9EerKn8SwSm7CmPx5Ym8xXqzg4his2wTtYAuAPBJodPeVFbJTFULme7NIHu/s1600/IMG_2027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZkj0hOgTwq_yrCjsXD80eHFI6cgT5dnbzQAXdqpTaZFjC3i8v3ksrwPyShVkq5mCfoEEiALZvUPgyIl3i9EerKn8SwSm7CmPx5Ym8xXqzg4his2wTtYAuAPBJodPeVFbJTFULme7NIHu/s400/IMG_2027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508422243926710610" border="0" /></a>Rocky<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBH0M5cVAHvFaEgsqTlX-QRxZR9Dj18_sHzsv1UXiPIDBfbz6adqO9DN2YxQTAoRyt0YFxXtwWZTkb-HOKq8n-ZsQzalzHf9At6tKMf9t49nc8Cxs5H9k9Q_sDM1UBoemMtcwZg1QX2Dr/s1600/IMG_2031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBH0M5cVAHvFaEgsqTlX-QRxZR9Dj18_sHzsv1UXiPIDBfbz6adqO9DN2YxQTAoRyt0YFxXtwWZTkb-HOKq8n-ZsQzalzHf9At6tKMf9t49nc8Cxs5H9k9Q_sDM1UBoemMtcwZg1QX2Dr/s400/IMG_2031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508422584007618386" border="0" /></a>Rocky's curls<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQUw2nv9C7XWa5LTLM1MHe6sxvnhrc39nV3wRwSz2nB9Pc9OQib259lktLasgJXhoX6A2GnNmGA6dIeeKcafeLbcmxrjpAoiNVPuBFe9KUfWSfgaQxBFxfKQofM9nB-VUcGJzApd-ItZa/s1600/IMG_2050.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQUw2nv9C7XWa5LTLM1MHe6sxvnhrc39nV3wRwSz2nB9Pc9OQib259lktLasgJXhoX6A2GnNmGA6dIeeKcafeLbcmxrjpAoiNVPuBFe9KUfWSfgaQxBFxfKQofM9nB-VUcGJzApd-ItZa/s400/IMG_2050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508423060319804066" border="0" /></a>The Big Dawg's hand-me-down loafers<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1nN_MBlm0AFgPW_fmnu3Yua4iC-_g0nxz6Nms2Tq5mpWQ8lhnFuUh01XlCgRMbVB5tHgBA69TupOUuPbFHDfDWJrfs1Of84Y931EET9SL0iGIAVcA7Heuvg8MCwjBkIVkFwSpXTCSHUb/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1nN_MBlm0AFgPW_fmnu3Yua4iC-_g0nxz6Nms2Tq5mpWQ8lhnFuUh01XlCgRMbVB5tHgBA69TupOUuPbFHDfDWJrfs1Of84Y931EET9SL0iGIAVcA7Heuvg8MCwjBkIVkFwSpXTCSHUb/s400/IMG_2033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508424870961591218" border="0" /></a>Maya<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxRD1pqpLHDIYAiom0lu_zP_UF_WSx9_G9Ibg9BJA2_43GnANjLE5eEHC4a_WXBysMaLiXWHNRxsYpLLRMW-o2g7Xyy7uZsyG-VoywRIGYFSKGlKGj3fdBQXgZVbebKTgA_o9eCQPP4mB/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxRD1pqpLHDIYAiom0lu_zP_UF_WSx9_G9Ibg9BJA2_43GnANjLE5eEHC4a_WXBysMaLiXWHNRxsYpLLRMW-o2g7Xyy7uZsyG-VoywRIGYFSKGlKGj3fdBQXgZVbebKTgA_o9eCQPP4mB/s400/IMG_2037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508425398212108418" border="0" /></a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-62726406704107259652010-08-20T14:21:00.003-06:002010-08-20T14:28:28.145-06:00Why Utah's pretty cool...Just stole this picture from Tess, taken during one of our recent trips to Dog Lake. I love it! It's so pretty up there.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA0G4kzUz6W2hlsMnAc7EESsiD0OwxHNqL77Vm62i1Ke0X9f9wQ8hGZVjxWL14xLWRl3XpIF7-Fg1l-dkGc3Oy8XLJIeFMG-M-9bA9ns2fpVDMLTu11ixHdgsdRFbDeR7Ulqu8vGt-Qx5/s1600/g+n+m+perty+trail.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA0G4kzUz6W2hlsMnAc7EESsiD0OwxHNqL77Vm62i1Ke0X9f9wQ8hGZVjxWL14xLWRl3XpIF7-Fg1l-dkGc3Oy8XLJIeFMG-M-9bA9ns2fpVDMLTu11ixHdgsdRFbDeR7Ulqu8vGt-Qx5/s400/g+n+m+perty+trail.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507591123710770034" border="0" /></a>Here I am with Gerry...Sadie's waiting for us up ahead.<br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-1964726089576063702010-08-17T23:17:00.004-06:002010-08-18T09:42:30.386-06:00Zebra Print Slip Ons and Ceiling FansOne of my all-time favorite sounds is the swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of a ceiling fan as it spins around and around. This past Sunday afternoon I found myself down in Mesa, Arizona sprawled out on my Grandma Fern's gigantic guest bed staring up at her ceiling fan. I had gone to church with my grandma earlier and was still in the blue blouse, black home-made skirt, and zebra print slip-on flats I wore to the meetings that morning. I was tired and was wanting to fall asleep. But I couldn't fall asleep. All I could do was lie there and stare up at the ceiling fan as it slowly spinned and swoosh swooshed. I guess you could say that I was having one of those "Who am I and What am I doing?" kind of moments, right there on my Grandma's gigantic guest bed. I'm not kidding, that bed is bigger than 10 big things. So one would think that as I was going through this contemplative "moment" I would've come up with a few answers to these aforementioned questions. But no. All I could come up with was the thought of how lame my zebra print slip-on flats were. I kept on thinking, "Gosh, why do I own these?" or "Why am I wearing these things?" and "I can't believe I sported these at church with my grandma." Sometimes I'm not as deep thinking as I need to be. So I continued on like this for a while. I'm not sure exactly how long I allowed myself to indulge in this sprawled out, contemplative state before Grandma Fern decided to take over. Of course she busted into the guest bedroom without knocking, took one look at me on the bed and said, "Well get up, Dear. We're not going to sleep the day away. C'mon, let's have some fun." I knew I didn't have a choice in the matter. All I wanted to do was stay on the bed and listen to the swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, but when Grandma Fern tells you to get up, you get up without any questions or complaints. So I slid off the bed and followed Fern into the dining room. On the table, I found a plate piled high with fresh watermelon. I love watermelon. There was also a blank Yahtzee card waiting for me. I don't love Yahtzee, but I knew I was in for at least a couple of games. So I sat down and quickly started in on the watermelon while I listened to my grandma, for like the millionth time, go over the rules of the game before we began rolling. Like I said, I don't love Yahtzee, but I love my grandma. So I was really, really grateful to be down in Mesa, eating watermelon and playing that silly game with her last Sunday. After about an hour or so of play (I always lose to her and this time was no different), Grandma and I climbed into her silver Buick on our way to Aunt Jeannie's house. As Grandma started the car, she looked over at my feet, pointed, and said, "Well those are really cute shoes you have on there." I don't know how she does it, but Grandma Fern always knows how to make me feel better about everything when I'm around her. And I'm not just talking about a pair of dumb shoes. Although, I've been more than happy with the idea of wearing my zebra prints again ever since my recent visit with Grandma.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-a6gf6ws8tsEf3P3B1sbnrH8MMIRYVffbOwEyo6u2mJQv0iAG_Z_bFzxw7fkNQ60RFFYk-hs9BdymgbS0_0Odkm5zO6Cr9-iiPkYdZF4F9GPUa7obJz-PYKhKOtOdMPN1K_ls-DhoeVx/s1600/1939+Summer+Fern+Ashcroft+%26+Chick+Merrill+White+Mts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-a6gf6ws8tsEf3P3B1sbnrH8MMIRYVffbOwEyo6u2mJQv0iAG_Z_bFzxw7fkNQ60RFFYk-hs9BdymgbS0_0Odkm5zO6Cr9-iiPkYdZF4F9GPUa7obJz-PYKhKOtOdMPN1K_ls-DhoeVx/s400/1939+Summer+Fern+Ashcroft+%26+Chick+Merrill+White+Mts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506640962520799042" border="0" /></a>Couldn't resist posting this picture of Grandma Fern and Grandpa Chick. This was taken in Arizona during the the summer they first fell in love. Isn't my grandma beautiful? I adore this photo.<br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-43509719445116085822010-08-17T23:00:00.004-06:002010-08-18T01:29:28.265-06:00Wrecking Your Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGXsTF9mb-lXfLfp6tGT7qsY6juTjlIppVyt3Z5fF7cKEnn-gtiKVL_Y5AjldLQcj1w_dU0fhdGIFBJ13S6mvuSpjHd4vJ5GD0uc6ctVWqM7pkxN_CW4xk4dAOom1I0P8lLLdRm0wmros/s1600/Photo+130.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGXsTF9mb-lXfLfp6tGT7qsY6juTjlIppVyt3Z5fF7cKEnn-gtiKVL_Y5AjldLQcj1w_dU0fhdGIFBJ13S6mvuSpjHd4vJ5GD0uc6ctVWqM7pkxN_CW4xk4dAOom1I0P8lLLdRm0wmros/s400/Photo+130.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506614136395972338" border="0" /></a><br />I thought I'd throw out my gangsta peace sign to Sheri Dew today, because, well, she deserves it. This morning Ruth gave me a recording of one of Dew's talks given earlier this year. The talk is called "4 Things That Will Wreck Your Life and 4 Truths That Will Save It." Do you think Mom's trying to tell me something? It's true that Ruth's the master of throwing out not-so-subtle subtle hints. At any rate, she (Mom & Sister Dew) should be happy to know that I took copious notes while listening to the talk and very much enjoyed the message. I highly recommend taking a listen. Thanks, Sheri Dew. Thanks, Mom.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-45416849060318107492010-08-01T22:27:00.004-06:002010-08-01T23:49:02.220-06:00"We must set our course by the stars."From time to time I struggle with bouts of insomnia. Last week was one of those times. Luckily, my struggles with sleeplessness are always short-lived and don't come around very often. I love a good night's rest. Normally I crawl into bed and fall asleep right away, it's great. But around this time last week I was more than a little bit nervous about having to defend my paper. For those of you who didn't get a delirious phone call from me on Tuesday, my defense went well and I finally have my degree! I'm so happy I finally finished. It took me about 2 1/2 years, but it feels like about 10 years to me...I know I've said that before, but it's true. So last Wednesday night, I was still having trouble sleeping in spite of the fact that my defense was done and my final paper had been sent to the printer...must've been aftershocks of all my nerves from the nights before or something. Usually I end up reading a little of J.D. Salinger or David Sedaris when I can't sleep, but last Wednesday I found myself messing around with Photo Booth and rummaging through old photos on my computer. Whilst rummaging and after taking a few choice self-portraits at 2AM, I found an old Photo Booth gem from the summer of 2007 and feel the need to share for "compare and contrast" purposes. Take a look. Do I look different now that I'm done with school and all? Wiser, maybe? More sophisticated? Okay, maybe not. How 'bout older? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw6lAnXmzWEqJgR7NNc7Co_z8X34FhD74FBEfBz-gdkitGgI3h5Y43cggi4x2fkXtRRo8EAPxN6hukhzXMoO19uDMeOrknyiJqg944PZKLfknE7ZCgYv6kb8-HC5ZMHJQZ4UfQIe_rn48/s1600/Sleepless+in+Summer+2010.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw6lAnXmzWEqJgR7NNc7Co_z8X34FhD74FBEfBz-gdkitGgI3h5Y43cggi4x2fkXtRRo8EAPxN6hukhzXMoO19uDMeOrknyiJqg944PZKLfknE7ZCgYv6kb8-HC5ZMHJQZ4UfQIe_rn48/s400/Sleepless+in+Summer+2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500681357536510498" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZBIftaDOgEKWTGzsfs1SXW8CDf7mJoYL2sIWi4Bj9NmSHijIblgGxqCx7hlr2INNl4mbw-I6drrGvdN66HFdvwczrPHoqeD9ZRvnV2CPihcK2jFuNWGn1AV8nbA-w86f6Hwcf7Unm9lo/s1600/Sleepless+in+Summer+2007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZBIftaDOgEKWTGzsfs1SXW8CDf7mJoYL2sIWi4Bj9NmSHijIblgGxqCx7hlr2INNl4mbw-I6drrGvdN66HFdvwczrPHoqeD9ZRvnV2CPihcK2jFuNWGn1AV8nbA-w86f6Hwcf7Unm9lo/s400/Sleepless+in+Summer+2007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500681605203919874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Don't worry, my latest bout of insomnia is officially over and done with. Last night I was able to fall asleep like magic, so I'm expecting the same to happen tonight. I've been enjoying not having to worry about my paper and have been trying to take advantage of this time I have without school or a job by doing as much reading and swimming as is humanly possible. Plus I get to go down to Arizona for some more R&R next week! Life is good.<br /><br />I'll leave you with a quote I read recently. I really like this one.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">"We must stop setting our sights by the light of each passing ship; instead we must set our course by the stars." --George Marshall</span><br /></span>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-14546543887018988092010-07-19T14:44:00.004-06:002010-07-19T15:18:16.325-06:00Zoey's Floppy Hat and Other Radical Summer StuffI was able to go on a hike with Tess and Laura a couple weeks ago. I haven't been hiking nearly enough this summer, so it felt great to be in the canyon. We went up to Mill Creek with a plan to hike up to Dog Lake, but all the parking lots were full. So we decided to take a different path and hike Alexander Basin instead. Now, the three of us are familiar with the length and steepness of the Dog Lake trail, but we weren't too acquainted with Alexander Basin before attempting to conquer it. The trail turned out to be pretty difficult, even for me and I didn't have a baby strapped to my back. Yeah, that's right, Tess and Laura both had their babies with them on the hike! I'm so impressed with the two of them. I mean, the backpack that Tess had little Zoey in was nearly as big as she is! I wish I had a picture of her with the backpack on so you could see for yourself. Even though the hike was challenging, it was a gorgeous, clear day, but not too hot...the perfect day for a hike. <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzU3LqP1xpbtI2z4HmH0XV6OSICpvJrXbo8aT52U5OAufZ1L9LSfOiCzUqqHIUwqibk_0nC71S84VPDvXiT2Q6BpdZLU5jWfGAMP56iP77XvL6eAeFXEGekk7ucswNX8LPfdX6sfnDIDof/s1600/Tess_Zoey_Alexander+Basin_2010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzU3LqP1xpbtI2z4HmH0XV6OSICpvJrXbo8aT52U5OAufZ1L9LSfOiCzUqqHIUwqibk_0nC71S84VPDvXiT2Q6BpdZLU5jWfGAMP56iP77XvL6eAeFXEGekk7ucswNX8LPfdX6sfnDIDof/s320/Tess_Zoey_Alexander+Basin_2010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495728088153193890" border="0" /></a>Tess and Zoey. I'm hiding behind Zoey's awesome floppy hat. This baby is so cute.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6S6wWxGtVdz5i8JFJZ_MAhfFhgUWoygBnNfhr3fmPf4yGLCnoAxIwRRpIXlIXV4823KZMsURob67j8y6a9FhsJjuXJ2KUS6mUysmeefDdi0DjpiQm-4ZLLWQL5qnwp6NKKT_VGWjaqWz/s1600/laura,+monica,+tess.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6S6wWxGtVdz5i8JFJZ_MAhfFhgUWoygBnNfhr3fmPf4yGLCnoAxIwRRpIXlIXV4823KZMsURob67j8y6a9FhsJjuXJ2KUS6mUysmeefDdi0DjpiQm-4ZLLWQL5qnwp6NKKT_VGWjaqWz/s320/laura,+monica,+tess.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495728578807140562" border="0" /></a>Here's one with Laura and little Locke.</div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-30755758843965470002010-07-15T23:25:00.003-06:002010-07-15T23:34:03.039-06:00James TissotI was able to go to a lecture at the BYU Museum of Art tonight. The lecture was on the life of the artist, James Tissot, and his series of paintings on the life of Christ. He completed the series toward the end of his life. I enjoyed the lecture and was able to browse through the exhibit afterward. BYU's MOA will have the exhibit up for at least the next month, I think. You should check it out. Tissot painted with opaque watercolor. The amount of detail he was able to create with watercolor is pretty amazing. One of my favorites from the exhibit is called Jesus Wept, a depiction of Jesus after the death of Lazarus. This picture I posted is really small so go <a href="http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/4536/Jesus_Wept_J%C3%A9sus_pleura">here</a> if you want to see it and others in more detail.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3WtEm-JWoMVRGA5vhnbbc4gX8XsEVkYSjDhN8dGH-FRoiN2-AD4nz5JSBRLEVu9ErUhActWjCpNW3rEu-nPMeqEawZJ9gvpnBgPgaoyoOHdA6ksnJ-k0EGDnaYSchcqkECFENYR4jAoz3/s1600/jesus+wept+by+tissot.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3WtEm-JWoMVRGA5vhnbbc4gX8XsEVkYSjDhN8dGH-FRoiN2-AD4nz5JSBRLEVu9ErUhActWjCpNW3rEu-nPMeqEawZJ9gvpnBgPgaoyoOHdA6ksnJ-k0EGDnaYSchcqkECFENYR4jAoz3/s320/jesus+wept+by+tissot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494372785793140226" /></a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-28941135697200219402010-04-03T12:44:00.002-06:002010-04-03T13:25:34.427-06:00What happens to a dream deferred?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" >Dream Deferred: Harlem</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Langston Hughes (1902 - 1967)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What happens to a dream deferred?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Does it dry up</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">like a raisin in the sun?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Or fester like a sore--</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And then run?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Does it stink like rotten meat?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Or crust and sugar over--</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Like a syrupy sweet?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Maybe it just sags</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">like a heavy load.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Or does it explode?</span><br /><br /><br /><br />This is my favorite poem right now. It's been on my mind for the past week or so. I was thinking about it a lot last night and again when I woke up this morning. I thought it would be a good idea to share it in hopes of somehow releasing it so my mind is able to make room for another poem. Hmmm, I think that sounds a little bit crazy. Come to think of it, I've been proffering a lot of crazy to those closest to me as of late. So to my dear friends and family, I sincerely apologize. I promise to go back to my normal abnormal self as soon as possible. Student teaching will come to a close in about two weeks, so that should help. In fact, the only reason I have the energy to add this blog post is because I've been able to catch up on my sleep for the past couple days due to the junior high's Spring Break. I love Spring Break! I FINALLY got some snowboarding in for this season. I went up on Thursday, and the snow was great. I hope to go up again on Monday. Life is good when you're able to sleep in a little every now and then.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-70870580978063873102010-02-04T18:34:00.002-07:002010-02-04T19:40:23.727-07:00First Book Club MeetingThis morning the 8th graders and I tried out the new in-class book clubs for the first time. I was super jazzed about the whole thing but you won't be able to pick up on that by listening to the sound of my voice...I sound like I'm drugged up. Do I always sound like this? And man, I always manage to forget about what a strange accent I have until I actually listen to a recording of my voice. But the kids sound great. I circulated around the classroom while all the students were meeting in their assigned book clubs and had some time to join a few of the discussions. Here's a recording of one of the groups made up of 2 boys and 1 girl. The boys took over most of the conversation. I tried to get the girl to talk a couple times, but she didn't feel like saying much. This particular group is reading a fantasy novel called Curse of the Shamra, but we don't end up talking much about that book in this recording. I had a good time. <div align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxNN41d2u7meMNazaVFsY5CTkneOUdcQykm-PzRKP3A6LNN5-xqU0rkvXMHULnsjTDdHeP43DWsd8VHRmOoOA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-24933502718678729182010-02-03T21:16:00.002-07:002010-02-03T21:19:03.691-07:00This Morning I Woke Up Thinking About How...One time this guy I was dating came over to my place to pick me up in a car that wasn’t his own. He normally drove an old truck with bondo on its side, but this time he was driving a shiny black Porsche. I soon discovered that how he got a hold of the Porsche wasn’t nearly as interesting as it should have been. Don’t think I haven’t realized that showing up in a Porsche is supposed to be impressive or something. But the truth is that I very much preferred his old truck with bondo on its side. Sometimes guys are dumb.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-38553455759566889412010-02-03T21:09:00.004-07:002010-08-23T04:40:20.558-06:00Why It's Hard for Me to Make New Friends<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyz14Lck2_P6i2STgvdeJM8YI5ujEu76hCNSjcTYoWJ1p2R9QUr_8QA6LpBGBQ9A3ZsViVxz1rV4S77rRoqfiurB6jN2xVcuI5UrPsaPy83xDwabravri26YGAt5tF01fsojds8-pAVphI/s1600-h/Photo+77.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 62px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyz14Lck2_P6i2STgvdeJM8YI5ujEu76hCNSjcTYoWJ1p2R9QUr_8QA6LpBGBQ9A3ZsViVxz1rV4S77rRoqfiurB6jN2xVcuI5UrPsaPy83xDwabravri26YGAt5tF01fsojds8-pAVphI/s320/Photo+77.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434236109979846818" border="0" /></a><br />I don’t do very well in large groups. I’m usually much more comfortable in a one-on-one type of situation. One time I drove to the local movie theatre to meet up with my good friend Dave and about a couple hundred of his pals. Upon arrival it became clear to me that Dave was the only person I knew out of everyone making up his gigantic crowd. I was actually coping with this situation until I took my seat in the theatre. Dave sat down to my right and one of his girlfriends was sitting down to my left. Dave was nice enough to introduce me to this girl before he got up to go to the snack bar. At that point I said hi to my new acquaintance and offered to share my box of Junior Mints with her. She said no thanks to the Junior Mints (What kind of person says no to JMs?!) and then proceeded to ask, “So, how do you know Dave?” Little did the girl know that this question is one of my top ten least favorite questions of all time. <span style="font-style: italic;">So, how do you know So-And-So?</span> Aside from a formal job interview sort of situation, I think posing this particular question is not only arbitrary but also completely useless in obtaining any meaningful information about someone you’re really trying to get to know. <span style="font-style: italic;">Well I met him while waiting in line at Café Rio about two years ago. So what! </span>Because of my low opinion of the question, I quickly deduced that this girl wasn’t trying to get to know me at all. So I took the low road and replied by telling her that I was Dave’s 2nd cousin from Las Cruces. I guess I had New Mexico on my mind that night. This answer seemed to satisfy her curiosity as she didn’t ask me any other questions after that. I know that fibbing was more than a little bit childish of me, but I was annoyed and had a feeling that I wouldn’t be seeing more of this girl in the future…She didn’t strike me as the type that enjoys associating with people from Las Cruces.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-39576091158304507182009-12-15T22:23:00.015-07:002010-06-23T23:08:29.393-06:00A Sure Remedy for DoubtWith this torturous Fall semester over and done with, I can finally see the light at the end of my master's degree tunnel—the tunnel I've been in for the last two years. I can't believe it's been two years. It feels like it's been ten. Now that I can actually see the end nearing {Don't worry, by "end" I mean the end of working on my degree.}, I'm often left with a feeling of doubt. Doubt that I'll be able to know what do to and where to go after I'm finished with school. Doubt that I'll be able to pull off my master plan. And what in the world is my "master plan" anyway? Can someone please tell me so I can get on with my life?! Man, so much angst. I feel just like Angela Chase felt right after Jordan Catalano decided to cruelly ignore her at the Buffalo Tom concert. Oooh, by the way, I finally got to see Jordan Cat...uhh, I mean Jared Leto in person! Yes, it's true. I was no more than 10 feet away from him at one point during the 30 Seconds to Mars concert a couple weeks ago. Awesome. And he's just as beautiful in person as I've always imagined he would be. Anyway, back to my angst. Whenever I've been a bit overwhelmed with these feelings of doubt, I've found that referring to the long list of great things in my life immediately washes away my anxiety. Reference to said list is a sure remedy for doubt. Works every time for me. And here's just a swatch of the many things I am truly grateful for—just some of the great things that add so much to my so-called life {sorry, had to throw one more Angela Chase reference in here}.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi962qj7aqndbMDqf5izG2lvp5xNA66eLwecH5sHJhbzffTxCoLaERPamPPTvsLs_TufsYdFBfBj4EDncyI_6nfCOb_Kv_0pxk2uHHDG7Zanisci4b6qDpL0d6SX3kDzWvJVmwjLjCsFF_n/s1600-h/centaurs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi962qj7aqndbMDqf5izG2lvp5xNA66eLwecH5sHJhbzffTxCoLaERPamPPTvsLs_TufsYdFBfBj4EDncyI_6nfCOb_Kv_0pxk2uHHDG7Zanisci4b6qDpL0d6SX3kDzWvJVmwjLjCsFF_n/s320/centaurs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416009164252764146" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for the homemade centaur costumes that Matt and Leesh donned this past Halloween.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9bsJhsCb_mgv-A5Tq-zeuGak27xXlEcaVxySRE7cOlVDgXf_JDafNhSIf8vSM1PDj_4yxeRrBetyRlXExPeu7qaa0BfSp9TdVPR8r9ECYb108YRIlOiQZ8fUuEUBcyy0umOpP-Qzk3WR/s1600-h/dave_grohl-725665.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 303px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9bsJhsCb_mgv-A5Tq-zeuGak27xXlEcaVxySRE7cOlVDgXf_JDafNhSIf8vSM1PDj_4yxeRrBetyRlXExPeu7qaa0BfSp9TdVPR8r9ECYb108YRIlOiQZ8fUuEUBcyy0umOpP-Qzk3WR/s320/dave_grohl-725665.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416009655774252562" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for Dave Grohl.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5lI2o8vZHV-23lf5eRXXontkFFos0y-dr8433NMGN0zYzy5AcPnldrc-yXa_DEWPlVQ8uNxq2zIBvvG0fV4QcbOmXl0eL6tBubDTztxWwa3s7tWc8PjKkELf8dNA7FRor2KGX01bQKJ5/s1600-h/grandma+fern.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5lI2o8vZHV-23lf5eRXXontkFFos0y-dr8433NMGN0zYzy5AcPnldrc-yXa_DEWPlVQ8uNxq2zIBvvG0fV4QcbOmXl0eL6tBubDTztxWwa3s7tWc8PjKkELf8dNA7FRor2KGX01bQKJ5/s320/grandma+fern.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416009804105126946" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for Grandma Fern and the fact that she has never failed to wish me a happy birthday.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPxsSQXed1bzr958JqiU4YOKFmZeQCPSdxX7ZAftF_l0cEiKbhVsl94GLoDfPBpohkSMb5PqZRdKzOICaaQj0GCzxoE3Wh8hRqmIgSG_6sZJyA1GTg7T8dcXYwNgrnS6ZIUNMJzVL0FNr4/s1600-h/hugh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPxsSQXed1bzr958JqiU4YOKFmZeQCPSdxX7ZAftF_l0cEiKbhVsl94GLoDfPBpohkSMb5PqZRdKzOICaaQj0GCzxoE3Wh8hRqmIgSG_6sZJyA1GTg7T8dcXYwNgrnS6ZIUNMJzVL0FNr4/s320/hugh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416009962330197794" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for being able to live with Hughler for the past two years. Poor Hugh passed away last Friday. Hugh's one responsibility while on earth was to be a true and loyal friend to Phil, and he fulfilled that responsibility perfectly. I miss him.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZI8AM1J-kux9d4QKpdOxky9jDpH-LGg_4ZbNwcAyI4oN_yDek9KmDzwZ77JmhygF22aNUC5RPC_In8R3_m6cMdhZRE0w6QFGhZGidCMm9VjMdcE99T_Y5CMzhSPDzDJ5HaPTlfySimfS2/s1600-h/Baby+Elvis.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZI8AM1J-kux9d4QKpdOxky9jDpH-LGg_4ZbNwcAyI4oN_yDek9KmDzwZ77JmhygF22aNUC5RPC_In8R3_m6cMdhZRE0w6QFGhZGidCMm9VjMdcE99T_Y5CMzhSPDzDJ5HaPTlfySimfS2/s320/Baby+Elvis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416010118733042018" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for Elvis and recently found out that The King is still alive and well! J/K, J/K, that's Isaiah, wearing yet another incredible homemade Halloween costume. And for that, I'm very grateful.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3YFEl4zP-BgTfwyvhA7ztfTZgoukLiMx_7LYCil2vPYGpyhMRypiuJCiqyL5Sexe-HPPU3yiAaKP4BCBXuJwWJRRp5sPG_HYb8jVXN4VPiD_qA86DVDw2GRLnC-uwlEIMVHlsbi1j9ATK/s1600-h/Dad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3YFEl4zP-BgTfwyvhA7ztfTZgoukLiMx_7LYCil2vPYGpyhMRypiuJCiqyL5Sexe-HPPU3yiAaKP4BCBXuJwWJRRp5sPG_HYb8jVXN4VPiD_qA86DVDw2GRLnC-uwlEIMVHlsbi1j9ATK/s320/Dad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416010282068425170" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for Phil and for all the ways he helps me figure things out.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCkiW2kFYA4dbNoHRXLuISiLhJzpL5DjpKQIi4XQLbOfI-Ldvfr3oac1ssz_XJ1dQn3hvsA0buQuQckohaYoweHiiZkGeba7LZQ0929h2Z4nllgIL0UJ-VtKT3O1wLcKty-8VsohwptSO/s1600-h/mandy_photobooth1209.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCkiW2kFYA4dbNoHRXLuISiLhJzpL5DjpKQIi4XQLbOfI-Ldvfr3oac1ssz_XJ1dQn3hvsA0buQuQckohaYoweHiiZkGeba7LZQ0929h2Z4nllgIL0UJ-VtKT3O1wLcKty-8VsohwptSO/s320/mandy_photobooth1209.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416010438188387586" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for irreplaceable friends like Mandy who are always willing to hop into photo booths with me.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVukw00NQctvN9B1u4ASbZG1zCdTU-J46_pVRM_db6kZKDSgIhfbD4H8TQBbrqEwe0MNSNr9fgCNChKogkxskwss-vpjZQWAQt75Bh1GSU2uDTGZAVvlgS9qcxTyv0j-LeVDREN-KCH_H/s1600-h/purse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVukw00NQctvN9B1u4ASbZG1zCdTU-J46_pVRM_db6kZKDSgIhfbD4H8TQBbrqEwe0MNSNr9fgCNChKogkxskwss-vpjZQWAQt75Bh1GSU2uDTGZAVvlgS9qcxTyv0j-LeVDREN-KCH_H/s320/purse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416010661799680306" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for my fashionable niece and how she has taught me that there are only two certainties in life: 1) Animal print never goes out of style and 2) A girl should NEVER leave her house without a purse.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDA0VQoe4sr56-yZwKq4-WUY8x2TScXnsCwT6Z3rJDSYiWNZIIuc2T6nVm_UJLJsKeP9cqefkPNoMgktOAHU2l9RUtVnYbnA-ipvjbj1z2ndVDv3cgT5eJXuGZ9Esz20K27z09j_yRD2C/s1600-h/Mom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDA0VQoe4sr56-yZwKq4-WUY8x2TScXnsCwT6Z3rJDSYiWNZIIuc2T6nVm_UJLJsKeP9cqefkPNoMgktOAHU2l9RUtVnYbnA-ipvjbj1z2ndVDv3cgT5eJXuGZ9Esz20K27z09j_yRD2C/s320/Mom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416011054980199506" border="0" /></a>I'm grateful for Ruth and how she manages to make life more cozy.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBg_ob2DlUcJWjJP8nPArtPfWW_8gAUMj3e7XlhDCSdTigx59qkkI1tgPOyHBoxuEYS04vPz9Noy0ElUB66Kg87AfTv8RBJfVlrDEtQNLwwQc-042d7lyOa6aWF64ZU6bEPAJprw5tBEOw/s1600-h/sidewalk+walk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBg_ob2DlUcJWjJP8nPArtPfWW_8gAUMj3e7XlhDCSdTigx59qkkI1tgPOyHBoxuEYS04vPz9Noy0ElUB66Kg87AfTv8RBJfVlrDEtQNLwwQc-042d7lyOa6aWF64ZU6bEPAJprw5tBEOw/s320/sidewalk+walk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416011284724679842" border="0" /></a>I'm also grateful for long sidewalks and how they're perfect places to go when you need to mull something over in your head. {I love this picture of little peestola}<br /></div><br /><br />There's so much more I'm grateful for, but I'll stop here for now. Thanks for reading my blog.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:180%;">Merry <span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">Christmas</span> Everyone!<br /></span></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-50104597429166380582009-11-14T13:01:00.003-07:002009-11-14T13:38:24.135-07:00Hands<p></p> Everybody in my family has different hands. My dad’s hands are thick and calloused, folded together, patiently waiting for the next question. Melinda’s hands are always moving, moving, moving—appearing out of nowhere to pinch you when you’re not paying attention. Matt’s hands are open and have nothing to hide—what you see is what you get. My hands are plain with neglected fingernails begging for a coat of paint. Maria’s hands are up in the air, dramatic and expressive when there’s something in need of explanation. And Melanie, my baby sister, has elegant hands—long and poised and ready for their next challenge.<br /><p></p> But my mother’s hands, my mother’s hands, like soft meringue all featherweight and airy, so delicate you’re afraid you’ll hurt them if you hold them the wrong way, silky to the touch with pretty pink fingernails because she just came back from the manicurist, are the warm dinner waiting for you when you get home, are painfully curled into themselves but determined, constantly in motion, always marching toward a grand goal, working, sewing, producing, creating beauty in spite of their sickness, fragile yet so strong, ignoring their handicap while going about daily chores, can’t move like mine, can’t move like most but still manage to hold me in tighter, grab my face and somehow convince me of my own importance, hold me up higher than any other pair of hands have ever managed. Holding me in tighter, holding me up higher, my mother’s hands, like soft meringue.<p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-8120057797018145292009-10-22T01:40:00.003-06:002009-10-22T01:45:55.220-06:00Retro Photo of the Week<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHyj-9r-9LuL44IRtvCNpI5oOd2zY1M9R8e-wLWqUZ-tDRyK2eCD9zvA-9pxBr9P_lKMgEyMrlDa9gHAm59tjdkpqcGtYmiLybq2PXY8j9Q0tCjxeQo1VQz4DyLdE-9JfImvdXK-L4cRKS/s1600-h/Halloween_year%3F.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHyj-9r-9LuL44IRtvCNpI5oOd2zY1M9R8e-wLWqUZ-tDRyK2eCD9zvA-9pxBr9P_lKMgEyMrlDa9gHAm59tjdkpqcGtYmiLybq2PXY8j9Q0tCjxeQo1VQz4DyLdE-9JfImvdXK-L4cRKS/s320/Halloween_year%3F.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395326190121873122" border="0" /></a>I'm not sure what year this was taken, but if our sweaty, tired faces are any indication, I'm pretty sure it must have been taken after we were done trick-or-treating for the night. Maria's face is priceless + she's already in her PJs. And I'm not sure why Melinda is not in costume. Those were the days.<br /><br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-57927870999176111552009-09-27T17:28:00.002-06:002009-09-27T17:41:28.683-06:00The Lost Art of Flannel ShirtingI'm planning on going to the Pearl Jam show tomorrow night and the pre-show excitement has got me all nostalgic about the good 'ol days of flannel shirts and Jordan Catalano. Do you remember this? Isn't it so great when he grabs her hand? *sigh* I loved this show so much.<br /><br /><div align="center"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s_Etd_CYI_k&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s_Etd_CYI_k&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-75040022904111445072009-09-13T21:00:00.006-06:002009-09-14T02:42:50.209-06:00Musing in the ShowerAn old friend tagged me on facebook recently. It was one of those tags that invite you to answer a bunch of questions about yourself and after answering you’re supposed to publish your answers for all of your facebook friends to see. Do I enjoy filling out these types of questionnaires? Yes, yes I actually do. Am I going to answer these questions and publish this information on facebook? No way. Am I going to answer these questions and publish this information on my blog? Hells yeah! Ha! For some reason I don’t feel comfortable burdening people’s “news feeds” with a bunch of trivia about myself. I do, however, feel completely comfortable posting this meaningless information about myself on my blog. I mean, that’s what a blog is for, right? I guess it depends on what blog we’re talking about. As for me, my blog’s purpose is simple, and there’s a reason behind me making this blog, my little piece of the world-wide-web, private. So for those of you who care to read my answers (found at the bottom of this post) to this facebook-initiated questionnaire, go right on ahead!<br /><br />While in the shower this morning, I got to thinking about the process of getting to know people. I think all this silly facebook tagging got me thinking about the subject, and I came up with one main question: How do you really get to know someone for who they actually are? This friend of mine who tagged me on facebook said that she tagged me because she wanted to get to know me better. Now, I know the tag was only meant for fun, so no big deal. It is what it is. But the stated purpose of the tag is not going to be met…she’s not really going to get to know me through this series of silly questions nor is she going to get to know me on any kind of real level by simply being my “facebook friend.” Like I said before, this facebook stuff is all in good fun, no big deal. In addition, I realize that people don’t get on facebook in order to get to know people on a real level or to get a deeper meaning out of life in general (at least I hope nobody gets on that site with that aim), but the whole thing just got me to thinking.<br /><br />So back to my question that came to me in the shower this morning: How do you really get to know someone for who they actually are?<br /><br />One thing I know is that getting to know a person is usually not the easiest thing in the world and requires a lot of selflessness and sincerity. It is also something that can’t be measured in time. In other words, just because someone says they’ve known so-and-so for X number of years, doesn’t mean they know so-and-so all that well. As a case in point, someone who I would count as a good friend decided to set me up with some guy that she’s “known for years.” This friend of mine said that she thought I’d really like this guy because, and I quote, “Like you, Monica, he’s not too overwhelmingly Mormony.” First of all, I know she didn't mean any harm by telling me that. But go <a href="http://monicamerrill.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-its-your-shoes.html?zx=676570c1c8dea91d">HERE</a> to find out how I feel when people are shocked after finding out that I'm LDS or how I feel when people, who know that I'm LDS, describe me as not being very “Mormony.” Why do people feel this way about me? Is it because some of the best friends I have are not LDS? Is it because of my love of indie rock music and concerts? Is it because of my shoes? I don’t blame anyone who may feel this way about me, because it happens often enough that I know I must be doing something to help form this opinion of me. But I’ll have you know that <a href="http://monicamerrill.blogspot.com/2008/11/mesa.html">THIS DAY</a> happens to be the happiest of my entire life. Which I hope says a lot. Anyway, I’ll stop harping on this phenomenon for now since I’m in the middle of telling you this illustrative blind date story. So I end up going out more than a couple of times with this guy that my good friend set me up with and come to realize that he is one of the more faithful members of the church I’ve ever met. Go figure. And the friend who set us up said that she’s known this guy for years. It makes me wonder why she doesn’t realize how faithful he actually is. As a second case in point, another good of friend of mine decided to set me up with a guy who she said was a really, really nice guy. A real sweetheart and good member of the church she says. Well, this guy turned out to be anything but a good member of the church. In fact, he turned out to be a straight-up rogue. Any lessons learned from these experiences? Yes. One of the very important lessons being that labels don’t count for jack squat. I don’t ever want to be caught thinking that I know who someone is just because of a label someone else decides to put on that person. So when it comes to discovering things about somebody, it’s best to go directly to that person, the true source of information, rather than relying on what someone else decides to tell you. Sure, the guy who sat next to me in sacrament meeting today had a really, really bad haircut and a pretty bad lisp to boot. So what. Who am I to say that a really bad haircut makes someone less worthy of getting to know? The bad haircut and lisp shouldn’t stop me from trying to be this guy’s friend. Who knows, maybe this dude will turn out to be one of the best friends I’ll ever have. *NOTE TO SELF: Make sure to spark up a conversation with bad haircut/lisp dude next Sunday.* Life simply isn’t as exciting or full without good, true friends surrounding you. In short, I really believe that it pays off to take chances on people, regardless of what other people say about them, their religion of choice, or their bad haircut. I just wish it wasn’t so hard to take those chances…at least I know it’s hard for me. I think it seems hard, because half the time you don’t get back nearly as much as you put in. But it really pays off in the end if you’re able to gain a good friend out of the whole process. Have I managed to answer my question that sparked all this rambling? Nope, not really. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow morning’s shower. Maybe I’ll come up with a brilliant answer whilst shampooing my hair tomorrow. I’ll be sure to let you know when I come up with something brilliant. Until then, just know that I’m Monica, I’m LDS, I’m a pisces, I have brown eyes, and I love to go to rock concerts. If you’re interested to know anything beyond that, be sure to give me a call and we can setup a time to meet for a hot chocolate or something. It’s easiest to get to know me over a nice cup of hot chocolate.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">FOODOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. What is your salad dressing of choice?<br />Ranch<br /><br />2. What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?<br />This is too difficult to answer. I love going out to eat way too much to choose just one.<br /><br />3. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?<br />Homemade tortillas.<br /><br />4. What are your pizza toppings of choice?<br />Pepperoni, black olives and mushrooms.<br /><br />5. What do you like to put on your toast?<br />There’s this olive oil butter stuff that I really love.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">TECHNOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. How many televisions are in your house?<br />3<br /><br />2.the color of your cell phone?<br />black<br /><br />3. How long would it take you to look up who invented the Rubber Band?<br />Probably about 5 seconds since I’m on the computer right now and can google anything I want.<br /><br />4. Have any idea how many Megahertz your computer has?<br />No.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BIOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. Are you right-handed or left-handed?<br />Right<br /><br />2. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?<br />Wisdom teeth is all.<br /><br />3. What is the last heavy item you lifted?<br />My 1 year old nephew, Rocky. That kid weighs a ton.<br /><br />4. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?<br />No, but I’ve passed out plenty of times.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BULLCRAPOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?<br />No!<br /><br />2. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?<br />I would call myself Stella. I’ve always loved that name.<br /><br />3. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?<br />Right now, at this time in my life and non-career, yes. Very sad, but yes I would.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DUMBOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. How many pairs of flip flops do you own?<br />Let’s see, I think 3.<br /><br />2. Last time you had a run-in with the cops?<br />What qualifies as a “run-in?” I would have to say it’s been more than four years ago…got pulled over for speeding down State Street in Salt Lake.<br /><br />3. Last person you talked to?<br />Ruth.<br /><br />4. Last person you hugged?<br />My niece, Maya.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">FAVORITOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. Season?<br />I used to always say Summer, but now that I’ve learned to love snowboarding, I might have to say Winter.<br /><br />2. Holiday?<br />Labor Day. It comes at the perfect time.<br /><br />3. Day of the week?<br />I like Thursdays the most.<br /><br />4. Month?<br />March.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">CURRENTOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. Missing someone?<br />Yes.<br /><br />2. Mood?<br />Apprehensive.<br /><br /><br />3. What are you listening to?<br />Are we talking, like, right now? Nothing. Silence. I just finished up reading Dracula and I can’t read or write with a lot of ambient noise.<br /><br />4. Watching?<br />Again, if we’re talking about right now, I’m just watching my computer screen. But if we’re talking about general television watching, then I’ve been paying attention to the U.S. Open and if I have any spare time, I like to watch The Barefoot Contessa on the Food Network. Oh and once LOST starts back up again, you better believe I’ll be watching that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">RANDOMOLOGY</span><br /><br />1. First place you went this morning?<br />Upstairs to get my daily dose of Honey Bunches of Oats.<br /><br />2. What's the last movie you saw?<br />I watched part of this really strange movie on the plane to New York called Grey Gardens. Pretty depressing.<br /><br />3. Do you smile often?<br />I’ve been told that I don’t smile enough.<br /><br />4. Sleeping Alone Tonight?<br />Yes.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">OTHER-OLOGY</span><br />1. Do you always answer your phone?<br />Not always. Thank goodness for caller id and voicemail.<br /><br />2. Its four in the morning and you get a text message, who is it?<br />Either one of my three sisters or the shady kid who lives across the street from me…I made the mistake of giving him my number over a year ago. Mistake.<br /><br />3. If you could change your eye color what would it be?<br />Violet.<br /><br />4. Do you own a digital camera?<br />Yes!<br /><br />5. Have you ever had a pet fish?<br />No. But I’ve had a pet rock.<br /><br />6. Favorite Christmas song(s).<br />Silver Bells.<br /><br /><br />7. What's on your wish list for your birthday?<br />A new snowboard.<br /><br />8. Can you do push ups?<br />Yes…and the real kind too, not the wussy girl kind.<br /><br />9. Can you do a chin up?<br />Yes.<br /><br />10. Does the future make you more nervous or excited?<br />More excited than nervous.<br /><br />11. Do you have any saved texts?<br />Yes.<br /><br />12. Ever been in a car wreck?<br />Yes.<br /><br />13. Do you have an accent?<br />More than once I’ve been asked if I’m from Florida. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. But yes, I do believe I have some sort of hybrid accent.<br /><br />14. What is the last song to make you cry?<br />I’ve never cried because of a song.<br /><br />15. Plans tonight?<br />Homework.<br /><br />16. Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom?<br />Yes. I could even give you the exact date and time that I hit if you really wanted to know.<br /><br />17. Name 3 things you bought yesterday?<br />Uh oh. I wish I could say that I didn’t buy anything, but I ended up at the Gateway somehow and ended up buying 1 blouse and 2 pairs of pants at Anthropology—all on sale of course!<br /><br />18. Have you ever been given roses?<br />Yes, for a Valentine’s Day gift a very long time ago.<br /><br />19. Current worry?<br />I’m really worried about finishing my action research/thesis project in time for my planned graduation in the Spring. I fear that will be my main worry until May arrives.<br /><br />20. Current hate right now?<br />Hate is a strong word. I don’t hate anything right now. But I’m worried about a few things (see question 19 above for one of them).<br /><br />21. Met someone who changed your life?<br />Yes.<br /><br />22. How will you bring in the New Year?<br />Jubilantly. ☺<br /><br />23. What song represents you?<br />Happy Kid by Nada Surf…At least that’s the first one that comes to mind right now.<br /><br />24. Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?<br />YES! I know, kinda sad, but YES I WOULD.<br /><br />25. Have you ever dated someone longer than a year?<br />Yes.<br /><br />26. Do you have any tattoos/piercings?<br />Just the traditional single piercing in both ears is all.<br /><br />27. Will you be in a relationship 4 months from now?<br />I guess we’re talking romantic relationship? Probably not. Living with Phil and Ruth while going to school and working on the WSU campus isn’t too conducive to the formation of new relationships. But I’m not complaining…Ruth is a fantastic cook.<br /><br />28. Does anyone love you?<br />Yes.<br /><br />29. Ever had someone sing to you?<br />Yes, but not in a serious way. Just for laughs.<br /><br />30. When did you last cry?<br />Hmmm, oh yes, now I remember. ‘Bout 2 weeks ago.<br /><br />31. Do you like to cuddle?<br />Not usually.<br /><br />32. Have you held hands with anyone today?<br />No.<br /><br />33. What kind of music did you listen to in elementary school?<br />Whatever records or tapes Phil happened to be listening to at the time. So there was a lot of Beatles and Beach Boys going on.<br /><br />34. Are most of the friends in your life new or old?<br />Mostly old friends I’ve had for years and years. I’m lucky.<br /><br />35. Do you like pulpy orange juice?<br />Well I can handle a little bit of pulp but not too much.<br /><br />36. Do you believe angels walk among us?<br />Yes I do.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439648737373744581.post-65098275337671264402009-08-09T14:31:00.004-06:002009-08-09T14:38:36.573-06:00Retro Photo of the Week<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxXOC4ITHJNwIrHBaiIT4c9-5O9p_fj4iZrZuCbJ-8S19u19hgVhzsvLUL3wi9bYnw18rSFSxoQcuIy4JDx5Re2M1UmTLitfgt1UaexK-PTgNomRCLLjw2vXgCZojjZIYr0CzrofhyphenhyphenDJY/s1600-h/Mom+and+Melanie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxXOC4ITHJNwIrHBaiIT4c9-5O9p_fj4iZrZuCbJ-8S19u19hgVhzsvLUL3wi9bYnw18rSFSxoQcuIy4JDx5Re2M1UmTLitfgt1UaexK-PTgNomRCLLjw2vXgCZojjZIYr0CzrofhyphenhyphenDJY/s320/Mom+and+Melanie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368065487360898946" border="0" /></a>Melanie and Mom at the beach in Panama. From the looks of Melanie, this must have been taken in 1989ish.<br /></div>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13093145412707310414noreply@blogger.com0