I Love Fall

We are in my favorite season of year--Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I LOVE the holidays, the way the seasons change and how excited everyone gets. Sadly, we don't get much of a fall in Utah, but I don't mind so much. I love the leaves changing and I love the arrival of the first snow . . . even if we got our first snow two weeks ago. I'm choosing to ignore that, mostly because I need to buy a new coat so obviously I'm not ready.

Pumpkins from my roommate Allyson's parents' house. I love how wobbly and squished they look.

Halloween decorations!

I must admit, I'm always drawn to acorn decor in the fall. I need more because all I have are these little bad boys.

One of the drawbacks to our lack of fall is if you blink, the leaves have already changed color and fallen to the ground. The leaves haven't quite changed, but they're getting there.

Accept It Already

I've never been known for my cool factor, but this self-awareness reached new heights the other night while working at the gym.

At my "real, professional" job I have some pretty big upcoming projects and in preparation I've been reading my old college editing textbooks to brush up on my editing skills. In reading these books, I've reached some conclusions: Mostly, that I have no idea what I'm doing. I find this to be extremely ironic, and more than a little sad. I've been touting myself with excellent writing and editing skills but as I continue to read about editing and style techniques I realize I really only know the basics. We're talking stringing sentences together with a subject + verb + a direct object. That's all I've got. No prepositions. No summative modifiers. In fact, what is a summative modifier anyway?

The second thing I've learned is that I LOVE reading these books. It sounds so lame but I really enjoy it! It's broadened my horizons in terms of good writing and how I write. I wish that it had all made more sense years ago when I was actually learning this in college. It would have helped me so much more when I considered grad school. Slowly, I'm trying to incorporate these lessons into my own writing. I feel like in a lot of ways I have an edge this time around. I already have a solid foundation in writing--now, as I study rules, suggestions, and techniques I'm starting to retain these lessons much more easily than in college. Another irony--it's only been five years since I graduated college. Obviously I'm a late bloomer.

But as I worked at the gym (and I use that term loosely, because usually I grab a chair and pull out a book) I looked up to see this weird guy just watching me. It looked like he was waiting for me and I'd gotten a little too focused on my book--I didn't notice him walk up. I got up and asked if I could help him.

"Good book?" He said, not even replying to my question.

I shrug. "Sure. It's not too bad."

"Because you were laughing at it."

Um . . .

Was I just laughing while reading a grammar book of all things? And didn't even realize it by the way? I didn't know if I should laugh or turn my head in mortification as I tried to process the fact that some dude caught me laughing while reading a grammar book.

Owie!

I kind of enjoy giving blood. Not so much the needle piercing my skin, but it's a good, easy thing to do. It doesn't take very long and it helps people. Plus, I'm O positive which happens to be universally accepted. If any of you need blood, I'm your girl. My blood is a non-judger. It doesn't discriminate. It accepts all. I'm pretty sure that we could wax philosophical and discuss how my blood could act as a metaphor for the implications of accepting all people and how this could lead to world peace and overall harmony throughout the universe.

But, I digress. I gave blood, thinking that on top of this small feat I would still keep my regular routine of attending the gym following work. The phlebotomists advised I not use my arms the rest of the day which was fine--I checked with my trainer Justin and we decided to have a leg day instead of an arm day at the gym.

Now, when Justin has me lift weights, he doesn't hold back. It's grueling, to be honest. And yet, I keep coming back. I'm not sure why. There's something so electrifying about finishing a session with him, but it sucks when you're lunging, squatting, doing pull ups, whatever. It hurts! This day, Justin was no different. He slugged some plates onto a bar and had me start doing squats. Up, down, up, down, I wasn't initially alarmed when I felt my right arm began to tingle a little. It often does this when I squat--something to do with the bar cutting off circulation as it rests on my neck.

But the tingle didn't go away. And when I looked down at my arm I saw a tiny bubble underneath my skin. Um . . . the blood under my skin was clotting! A little lump of blood was building under my skin. Disgusting! What can I say? I panicked. "Justin! Justin!" I hissed. I pointed at my arm. There was nothing more I could say. I was freaking out. I instantly pictured myself passing out or vomiting from the nausea.

Justin, however, found this to be an exciting event. He's an aspiring PA (physician's assistant) and he was all about pretending I'm a real patient. So he jogged over to the front desk--somewhat free and easy, I should say--and grabbed gauze and athletic tape. He made me sit down because he really did think I was going to pass out. I didn't think that was going to happen, but I was still dazed from the fear that somehow I was going to die from the blood clot. Can you tell that I wasn't thinking clearly? I will admit, that I had a 'moment' with God later that night. There were too many images floating through my head of me dying. I honestly wondered if as I drifted off to sleep if this was going to be my last night. If so, I needed to make amends with a few people, clean my room, make sure my hair was washed. Instead, as I jumped back to reality, Justin wrapped the entire gauze bandage around my arm so tightly that minutes later my arm turned purple and once again it was tingling. It kind of hurt. That's Justin for you, always making me hurt.

This also happened to be the night that I worked at the gym. As I scanned people's membership cards, almost every person asked what had happened to my arm. I felt pretty sheepish and tried to blow it off. How do you say, "I gave blood and like an idiot I lifted weight afterwards." It makes me sound like a masochist. Like some weirdo who can't get enough from the gym. Although, when you think about it, I guess that's true. I go to the gym everyday. I don't feel good when I don't go. It just seems like I'm slightly unhinged. What's worse,I had no idea how to explain the 'incident' to my co-workers. Usually when random people asked what happened to me, I replied, "I gave blood," like that explained it all. And people would nod their heads like they knew what I was talking about. But at work, they'd all given blood too! They wouldn't look at me like they understood. Nothing had happened to them. They would know that there was something inherently wrong with me. I was grateful for my little cubicle, and that nobody ever came by.

I will say, that I was left with the most wicked bruise. If nothing else, I had a bangin' bruise on my arm and it looked fabulous. When it comes to bruises, I say go big or what's the point? Check out that beauty. Yes, it's sexy.

Happy Birthday Hillary!

Oct. 10 marks Hillary's 18th birthday. Happy Birthday, girl! I hate to get all sentimental, but I remember the first time Hillary laughed. It was the funniest thing because she didn't stop. Here was this little infant laughing and laughing, while the rest of us erupted into laughter ourselves. The good thing is it hasn't stopped. She still laughs . . . love it! I hope you have a great birthday, Hillary. Love ya!

My Quirks

Tagged by cousin Sarah--6 quirks that I am proud (or slightly embarrassed) to share with the world around me.

1. I absolutely hate being late. It's one thing to be late for work or class or even a party (those things don't really matter, ha), but I get irritated really easily when I'm late for church, a doctor's appointment, meeting, etc.
2. I think cottage cheese is the most disgusting food on the planet. Anything that is curdled should not be consumed. I ate a blintz a couple of weeks ago that I think had cottage cheese in it and I could barely stomach it on the way down. But I finished it to be polite. Bleh.
3. I love to laugh, and you can generally find me laughing at just about anything (ask Kaylin about the things she does that make me laugh). But when I get nervous I tend to giggle uncomfortably. Only the astute can tell the difference. You'd be surprised how often I giggle nervously.
4. I tend to let my room get cluttered; however, I cannot abide a dirty bathroom including a lot of stuff on the sink.
5. I recognize the fact that I am somewhat of a grammar Nazi, but I try really hard not to correct people because obviously that's rude. I hate it, however, when people say ex-scape instead of es-cape. Mostly, I hear this from people who are from Utah and Idaho. I notice it every time someone says it and have to bite my tongue. You'd be amazed at how many people insert an ex- prefix for the esc- prefix.
6. As ridiculous as it sounds, I get fired up any time I go to the gym for a class and it's full. I go to those classes religiously and the fact that a bunch of chicks randomly decided to take my spot drives me crazy. I know it's irrational, but I tend to think that because I'm such a diligent 'student' I shouldn't be edged out of a class I attend every week.

Now to tag: Whitney, Tim, and Kaitlyn

IOC Makes Halfhearted Attempt

Look at these girls. There is no way that these girls are 16! However, yesterday, the IOC determined that the Chinese women's gymnasts who competed in the 2008 Olympic games, and caused so much controversy that had groups of people crying foul play, were in fact of age to compete. I'm sorry . . . look at these girls! This is impossible.

Apparently, the Chinese government supplied satisfactory documentation proving their ages. I guess the cynic in me is thinking that sure, they can supply adequate information. They make the documents.

If these girls are really 16, then I find the Chinese government's behavior reprehensible. These girls' bodies have been stunted all in the name of Olympic gold medals. They look like children. In my opinion, this is no longer an issue of building teams and athletes worthy of Olympic competition. I think they've been robbed of their childhood. I think these poor girls have been manipulated in the name of bringing 'honor' and 'respect' to Chinese athletics. It bugs.