Oh Hey, Mamacita!

My grandma (pictured on the far right) has a Facebook account. Some people...they're just so tech savvy. She posted over 100 pictures of the family over the years, what a fun thing to scroll through and see them!
Check out my mom, how cute! She's the girl on the right, or the one who looks like me, ha ha.

I have no idea what happened here, but I like to think of this as my mom's "model shot." She's giving the camera some kind of Naomi Campbell "Who goes there without my permission?" look.

Off the Sugar

In reference to my last post, yes, I'm off the sugar. I did it briefly before Cancun which was great and after a Memorial Day weekend filled with the most delicious brownies I've ever eaten (thank you, Sarah), homemade candy (thank you, Carrie), homemade waffles with whip cream and strawberries (thank you, Tracy), and movie theater popcorn (oh, my gosh, REALLY?), I've decided to ground myself.

I'm only doing this for a couple of weeks though. It's not forever. I guess that's the plus side.

However, I just realized there is a bag of peanut M&Ms in my work desk. Ugh. Ordinarily, a very happy thing. This time around, a very sad thing.

A Lesson in Hashtags

I have recommitted to my Twitter account. When I first signed up I thought it was pretty stupid and did not understand the reason behind it. Why would I use Twitter to read other people's status updates when I have Facebook? But then I discovered something magical: I could get all of my news off of Twitter. Suddenly I was catching up on CNN, FoxNews, E! Entertainment, Jim Rome (for any sports fans out there) all in one place (and often in the middle of my meetings which makes the pain of sitting in a long meeting so much more bearable).

Clearly, I had to share the good news.

I have converted one other follower, and what a follower he is. Every time I see him we have in-depth discussions about what's going on on Twitter. I have to admit, it's a little bizarre and we get the strangest looks. And now, rather than us actually texting or calling each other, we tweet to each other.

News Flash: Talking to someone face0-to-face no longer exists.

Conversation #1:
Me: Eating Mongolian Grill BBQ for lunch. #Delicious.
Friend: Love the hashtag but hashtag the place too! It sounds delicious!

Now, for a lesson in hashtags: all a hashtag simply is is a keyword. You can type in the hashtag in the Search menu on Twitter and pull up all of the tweets that have used that specific hashtag. Anyway...

Me: I bet when I tell you it's in Springville that would make it sound even more tempting! #TooFarAway.

Conversation #2:
Me: Decided to go off the sugar for a couple of weeks. Last time I did this I indulged unmercifully afterwards. #NoRepeats.
Friend: Why would someone do this? #QuestionSanity
Me: A very good point. #HaulMeOffToTheLoonyBin

And so, our friendship has now become a game of who can out-hashtag the other. Personally, I'm pretty sure I can win this one.

Goldilocks--43 Miles!

Cycling season is fast approaching. Well, kind of. The rain is really messing with my plans.

My odometer from last summer said I rode about 150 miles. That seems like an exquisite waste when you think of all of the money I invested in road biking. But let's be real, I thought I would be natural on my bike. Turns out I wasn't. Therefore I was intimidated by it all.

Blah blah. It happens to the best of us. This is a new season.

The race we did last year (Little Red Riding Hood) filled up in a mere 23 HOURS. WTF!? Seriously. Apparently all of Utah's female riding population decided to sign up. However, we had an excellent alternative--Goldilocks. Another all-female ride. This time in Herriman which is much closer to my house and I actually liked it so much more.

I wanted this ride to be more relaxed than last year's somewhat-of-a-failure first time. Kaylin was nervous. I was detached. I made sure Kaylin ate a hearty breakfast of oatmeal which she barely choked down. I felt pretty good for the upcoming 40 miles ahead.

The race was (dare I say) a total breeze. I plugged in my iPod and was ready to go. Kaylin and I passed people left and right. We set a really good pace and in many parts we led the way for a group of girls we started riding with.

By the way, Goldilocks sold these adorable arm warmers. They came in a bunch of colors with the cutest polka dots. I really want a pair now.

Kaylin was especially impressive. She set the pace and I just followed her. Looks like all of her cycling in the gym is really paying off.


By about mile 35 I began to feel it. My legs felt like noodles. I suspect it had more to do with the fact that I didn't eat a mid-race snack. I really think something like a Cliff bar would have done the trick. Since then, I've tried to eat more when I know I'm going to do a long ride. It's had me thinking a lot about what I'm going to eat as a means of fuel and not so much just because I'm hungry.

At the last leg of the ride there was a very small hill to climb. Seriously, on fresh legs it would just be a hump in the road. But I had reached absolute fatigue and it was the hardest hill I met. My legs agonized with every pump and all I could think is I was almost there...almost there! This is funny to me because one of the hills we climbed mid-race took us over a half hour to climb and I didn't even have a problem with that. In fact, I really enjoyed it. I passed a lot of people on that hill which is certainly good for the ol' morale.

By the end, all smiles. I really loved this race. The terrain was so hilly and dynamic. Doing 43 miles has emboldened me somewhat. I feel really excited about cycling this season and can't wait to do more. I've decided to set the goal of riding 500 miles this summer. Who knows if I've got it in me, but it seems like a good goal to make!

The Things People Say

This Sunday I will get on a plane that will take me to a bright, sunny, tropical place...Cancun!

Here's just a sampling of what people have said to me at work about my trip:

"Do you have any idea how dangerous Mexico is? Are you even aware of world current events? You should really consider watching the news."

"Don't drink the water. Have a Corona instead."

"You're on vacation, you can drink anything that you want. (Conspiratorial whisper) And it doesn't even count."

"You're going to be gone for a week? Do you even work anymore these days?" For the record, I do work.

"Maybe your trip will be one of those What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico."

"Have you seen Blue Streak? Just remember--'Don't nobody wanna go to jail in Mexico, man....' Words to live by."

(And my favorite)
"Who knows? You may never come back. What if you meet a tall, handsome, totally ripped guy and he wants you to run away with him?"
"Yeah, I think the likelihood of that happening is pretty slim."
"You're such a cynic. You would say no to a guy who had a boat and all he wants is for you to sail away with him?"
"Wow, this order is getting kind of tall."

The Lip Herpe

Yes, those are my nasty cold sores. Maybe you can't tell because my lip is the size of a grapefruit in that picture. I think it's unfair that I drew the straw that gives me nasty cold sores when I'm in the sun too long or stressed out.

On the morning of the bridge move, I woke up to see my lip oversized and riddled with sores. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have mattered so much, I get them all of the time. But I was hosting a huge event that night with over 300 VIPs. After a quick trip to the doctor for the strongest stuff I could get (thank heavens for gay doctors who understand that I was there not because I was sick but because my vanity was at stake), I could only hope my hard hat would cast a long shadow over my ridiculously nasty lip.

This has got me thinking on my long history of cold sores and how I always lose the battle. They always find the most unpleasant moments to pop up. My top five cold sores in order of worse to even worser:

5. People told me that the mark of the end of finals week in college was an automatic cold. But I proved them wrong by getting one whopper of a cold sore as I literally walked out of my last final. I would have rather taken the cold.

4. Once, in high school, the cold sores migrated to my chin looking like a clash of zits and pimples. Not pretty and super painful.

3. Getting my first nasty cold sore due to overexposure of the sun. At 15, my family took wave runners out at Willard Bay in North Ogden. What's ironic about this mess is that I was legitimately trying to prevent any sunburns. I reapplied continuously but forgot two critical areas: the tops of my legs (which were burned from sitting too long on the wave runners) and my poor lips. Ugh. My lip ballooned to hideous heights. Aside from painful, it wasn't too much of a big deal, until my family met up with a family from our Alaska days with a beautiful son just two years older than me. And there I was with a fat lip that prevented any sort of actual smiling. I grimaced at him instead.

2. In perhaps the worst burn of my life, I was fried to a crisp after another family outing up at Mirror Lake in the Uintas. In truth, I was totally asking for it. I never though about getting burnt until I was dry heaving in my parents' car on the way back home from the pain. Again, I was met with another super fat lip and again, there was another boy I was desperately trying to impress. Since we worked together, he emailed me and said: Meet me in the break room. He wanted to talk Harry Potter as the final book had just come out. We chatted about the book and I kept a hand in front of my mouth. This was also my first time experimenting with the curly in my hair. I made it as curly and country star big as possible so as to detract any attention from my lip. It actually worked...for a while.

1. After, ahem, entertaining a gentleman caller one night, I woke up with a nasty patch of cold sores on the corner of my mouth. As this particular fellow was not LDS, Kaylin was quick to point out, "Do you find it ironic that you, a Mormon, probably gave herpes to a non-Mormon?"

Work Shenanigans

Yes, we moved this bad boy. And yes, it made for a very long weekend. Still tired, but happy at how smooth everything went. Check it out.

The Lucky One

Some people get lucky...and I am definitely one of them. I've had some good friends over the years (you know who you are) and these two are certainly among the finest. I met Annie and Rachel back in my Turnberry days at a pretty low point in my life. I was insecure, overweight, and had a terrible time meeting people and making friends. These two were immediate kindred spirits. Every Tuesday night we would do something together--dinner, Institute, a movie, card making--you name it, we did it. Over the years we still get together and it's always like we saw each other just the day before. They know all of my secrets and still love me anyway. The night this picture was taken, Rachel and I took Annie wedding dress shopping since she'll be getting married soon and moving away to Arizona! My heart breaks a little at the thought. But like I said, I am the lucky one.

Buck Up, Little Camper

I've started doing this thing, which I think slightly annoys everyone, but I do it anyway. I'll see a friend of mine at work and I'll say, "Hi, little buddy." All of these friends are invariably male and they all take offense at the phrase "little buddy." One guy even once responded, "Um, hi...big buddy."

I guess guys don't take too kindly with the idea of being referred to as "little"?

So one day my co-worker Tad walked up to me and I burst out, "Hi, little buddy!"

He gave me the crustiest look before responding, "I'm not THAT little."

Whoa. Okay. That is not what I meant. He's a dude and I'm short. All guys are bigger than me. Even the short ones (like him, lol).

I laughed it off and told him he needed to relax.

Turns out I got a little karmic retribution a week later when another co-worker texted me with the phrase, "Buck up, little camper."

When he texted me that message I was away in a meeting and had left my phone at my desk. I did not respond. He instantly became paranoid that he had hurt my feelings (usually I'm all for some quippy banter).

His response: And then there was silence.

My response (once I got to my phone): I'm still mulling over the fact that you called me "little camper."

His response: It had nothing to do with your stature, I assure you.

My response: No, it's not that. It's just that I don't camp.

Bad Picture, Cute Idea

I think it's just that time of the year, when it's dark and cold outside and I'm just tired. So I've been nesting again.

This weekend I tried my hand at homemade bread which required me to leave church twice in order to check on my rolls. Yes, it's a little over the top, and no, I don't think I will be judged too harshly for skipping out on the last half hour of church. It was for the greater good, you see. In my Saturday test batch, I killed the yeast. On Sunday, I was determined to get it right.

Result! They were delicious.

My rolls were followed by chocolate cupcakes with a homemade cream cheese frosting. I love cream cheese frosting. It's my favorite. BUT I'm not sure I can ever eat it again. I think I used 2 sticks of butter and 2 packages of cream cheese. There has to be a better way.

Again...they were delicious.

Yes, I am openly bragging. Deal.

My cupcakes were made with white chocolate stars...all in time for the Oscars last night. The picture above is blurry but hopefully you get the idea. I thought they were pretty cute.

Sexual Harrassment in the Workplace Part 2

Let me clarify here...yes, my work is slightly inappropriate, but it's not like I walk down the halls in fear of catcalls and salacious invitations for drinks after work.

BUT, like I said, it can be slightly inappropriate. Let's be real, I really prefer it that way anyway. It's too much pressure for me to be adhere to too much propriety.

Yesterday I was sitting at my desk when D walked up. He kept tugging on his pants. "I broke my belt this morning and now my pants won't stay up. I really should have gotten bought another belt."

He looked at me as if a lightbulb had just gone off in his head. "Hey! I bet you have a belt I can borrow."

(By the way, D is in his late-30s and over 250 pounds.)

"Mmm...not really. I don't own that many belts. They don't work on girls with hips."

He gestured to a small portion of his waist. "I bet your belt would fit on about a quarter of my waist."

What do you say to that? It was kind of true.

"I mean, how big is your belt anyway? Your booty can't be that big."

And yes, I realize that this statement is far more inappropriate than the arm tickling.

I shrugged my shoulders in response. "It depends who you're comparing it to."

Sexual Harrassment in the Workplace

Picture this: me standing next to my co-worker J discussing a map that has been taped to the wall.

Me: I need a smaller map of just this area, from here to here.

I'm standing on my toes and reaching up to gesture to an area. My arm is outstretched to the top of the paper which is well above my head.

Just then a different co-worker walked past us reaching out and, wait for it...tickled my armpit. While making some kind of Tickle Monster noise. You know, like you would with a baby.

I wish I was joking.

I stopped talking to my co-worker J and looked at the other co-worker in shock ... surprise ... maybe even fear? In the interest of protecting the guilty (not me this time), I will just refer to him as A. For a moment (that seemed to last an eternity) we just stared at each other guiltily. There was immediately so much shame between the two of us. It's like we suddenly had this dark, dirty secret.

J was confused. He heard the, ahem, Tickle Monster noise, but did not actually see the aforementioned weirdness that had just taken place. My face was red, and surprisingly, so was A's. And we were still just looking at each other, although by this point A kept looking away.

J: What just happened? What was that sound A made?

M: Oh, my gosh. A just...he just...tickled my armpit.

I am laughing so hard that I am hunched over and practically gasping for air. Did he really reach out and tickle my armpit?

J: Really? I thought he grabbed your butt.

M: No (still gasping), I think I would have rather he'd just grabbed my butt. It would have made things a lot less weird.

A (his face still red): Yeah, I don't know what just happened. I had a much different picture in my mind.

M: Did you really? I can't imagine what was in your head.

A: Yeah, um...

A just trails off while J and I laugh hysterically in the hallway. He looked so embarrassed that I almost felt bad. Almost. Not enough to stop laughing.

I will admit though that A and I had a hard time looking each other in the eye the rest of the day. Think nervous laughs and awkward eye contact. That was us.

Turns out today is A's birthday. Both J and I called out to A, "What do you want more, tickles or spankings?"

Oh, Hello, Blog. I Used to Know You Well

Oh, geez...has it really be two months since I have even checked my blog? I feel good old-fashioned Catholic guilt at this. I have to be honest...my life is predictable. I work and I go to the gym. It is not all that interesting. It seems in one swift moment my life has transformed itself into a flurry of meetings and checking my BlackBerry. Yes, I have officially gone to the dark side. Don't judge, people.

On the bright side there has been SOME playing. Above is a picture of me and two of my favorite people: Becca and Kaylin. This is the night we went tubing at Soldier Hollow in Midway. It was a great night and I laughed my head off. Those are the moments I live for. I'm pretty lucky because I get to laugh a lot these days...in between discussions of potholes, bridge moves, and working for the Man.