4:29 AM (warning, this is longer than it should be, I'm not an Editor)

This morning, for no apparent reason, my body decided to wake up at 4:29 AM.  I've asked it repeatedly not to do these kinds of things, but it didn't really seem to care about my feelings.  The real reason I hate waking up in the middle of the night (or at the same time as some of my weirdo friends who are in a jogging club), is that my thoughts become very irrational, emotional and very polarized in comparison to my usual "get over it" attitude.  Seriously, somehow I turn into a 57-year-old woman as I reason through my day to day.

This morning's topics of thoughts were no less ridiculous.  First item of business, rearrange all Young Women's activities between now and December.  This seemed so important that at one point, I thought, "I need to call the Bishop first thing in the morning before he goes to work."  Hmm, I'm sure that phone call would have gone over well.  Note: If you are not Mormon, feel free to skim through any of the Mormon terminology, it's not worth explaining.

Second item had to do with my bed.  It had to go.  Or, at least I thought so at 4:45.  I mean, I wasn't totally off, it is a Queen-size and Dale's toes do brush the end of the bed.  But, I think he likes feeling super tall every night.  The truth is, I bought this bed five years ago at Big Lots (stay tuned for my style blog, "How to Make Your Home look Cheap and Affordable to the Untrained Eye"), it's staying right where it is.  Plus, Dale and I aren't really "snugglers," after we say goodnight, I turn over in the opposite direction, and this bed allows us to feel close without touching.  I promise we really love eachother, but if we had a King-size bed, we'd have to send eachother postcards.  If you really want to know, and I know you do, Dale can't handle sleeping under even a sheet (Chelsey's budget cuts have affected the thermostat), while I enjoy the tradition of a light covering.  This only makes for a scene in which Dale rolls over onto my sheet and traps me inside reminiscent of some kind of chastity bag from the 1800s.  This is most likely why I was lamenting our bed.

Third, now this is weird, I thought about how I want something on my blog to get pinned to Pinterest.  It seemed so glamorous at the moment, like I would be famous, as if I ever want to be famous, gah.  This is weird for soooo (get the emphasis?) many reasons.  For one, I am only mildly involved with Pinterest.  Unlike many women, I honestly have no desire to make anything that requires me to purchase something that is not already in my cupboards or on my shelf.  I skim ingredients and when it says things like "Peanut Butter Cups" or "Unsweetened Chocolate," I move on.  And if the craft requires anything beyond scotch tape or Elmer's Glue, I figure I'm in over my head anyway.  I'm serious.  And don't get me going on 25 Easy Hairstyles, I've been working on one for the last twenty years and I still don't have it down.  So, the thought of me coming up with something worthy of pinning is pretty ridiculous.  I think at the time I was lost in my thoughts about where these items even come from.  Yeah, I'm the one who clicks on the anonymous blogger's other posts to see if it says whether they're married and where they grew up.  I'm much more interested in people.

Lastly, I was finally awoken to reality as at 6:00 when Summer let out two weak cries.  She wasn't really awake, but Dale turned over so quickly to look at the monitor that I had no choice but to return to reasonable thought.  Now, I was lying there grateful that I let Dale keep the monitor on his side of the bed, since I was sick of his heavy arm reaching over me to take a peek.  Plus, he disagreed with my wanting to keep the sound off since she is only a wall away and I can hear her take deep breaths let alone cry.  Now we get to hear any noise in Surround Sound.


So, I'm looking into getting a tutor.  Obviously not for anything truly academic, since I try very hard to not really think anymore.  Well, at least this week, as all of my old co-workers (suckers) head back to school using all of their "thinking" power to make bulletin boards, design hall passes, and work on classroom speeches that will both scare children/teenagers and make them love you all at the same time (tough stuff).  In fact, this is my first time since age five that I haven't had a first day of school.  No one took a picture of me this morning, weird.  Anyway, I digress, I really need a tutor.  Why?  So, I can understand what most people post on facebook without using a dictionary. . . no, let's get real, google (Urban Dictionary).  It's like pager code all over again (143).

Yeah, the truth of the matter is that a couple years ago, someone posted what is the title to this post (HBD NBD, in case you don't want to move your eyes) to my facebook on my birthday.  After a couple hours of moderate thinking (I do have a life) and some contextual clues (it was my birthday afterall) I realized that this "friend" had written, "Happy birthday, no big deal."  I really think that if they had written out that entire sentence, they would have hit the Delete button a la Tom Hanks in "You've Got Mail."  But, I guess the cuteness of rhyming? made them use poor judgement.

I'm woman enough to also admit that a few months ago, I googled "YOLO."  In complete honesty, I really thought that most people who wrote that were big fans of Yolo County, California, not far from where I grew up.  I thought about hash tagging "Solano," the name of my home county.   I also thought this was a funny acronym since I'm pretty sure it gives most teens and overgrown teens an excuse to do something dangerous or stupid, do they really need a catch-phrase?  Frankly, for the past ten years my motto has been YODO (You Only Die Once).  This has kept me from doing all kinds of "fun" things, like sky diving, eating food that was poorly prepared, driving fast, taking unflattering pictures, you get the point.  However, I was more than amused last week when I saw a T-shirt in Yellowstone that said, "YOLOstone."  I can't help but be a sucker for word play.

So, I want you to be honest, and tell me if there's ever been a phrase that you didn't understand right away that made you feel old.  Speaking of old, I turned twenty-nine on Saturday. HBD NBD.  

Summer's pretty hip/thug, maybe she can be my tutor.

The babe

Back by popular non-demand!  During my brief year-and-a-half hiatus from the blogosphere (hate that term, too futuristic), all total, about three people asked me about my blog.  Turns out, it only takes three requests and I am humbled by the praise, here I am at your service.  Ta dah!

Since you last heard from me, I have done the following things:
Got married, what what
Taught school
Got pregnant (consequently thought I contracted the West Nile Virus, turns out I am not one of those girls who feels healthier and prettier when pregnant)
Put on a few sexy pounds (I can remember every shake, so it was worth it)
Had baby (cut out of me)
Went back to work
Stopped working and tried to feel emotional about ending my 8-year teaching career.  Didn't.
Enjoyed my summer with Summer (and Dale)

The Babe
This is not where I am going to share with you my birthing story or birthing plan, for that matter.  Truthfully, I only recently learned what either of those were, along with what a "Push Present" is and I find it all beyond my capabilities.  The reality is that I had nine months to prepare for a baby, and I did nuthin'.  With the help of the internet's creativity, I decorated a nursery, other than that nuthin'.  I can barely call myself a mother.

But, I can call myself a mother because I just happened to have given birth to one of the cutest babies to ever debut on planet Earth (please don't take offense, I'm sure your baby is cute too).  Meet Summer.  She's totally my style.  She rarely cries, she laughs and smiles at anything, I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm funny, and she doesn't mind if I forget to bathe her four days in a row.  She's my pal.  But, before she was born, I woke up in cold sweats (mostly due to pregnancy) with the fear that I had this person growing inside of me who would always want to be with me.  A baby Klingon.  This didn't bother Dale so much, since he already had someone in his life just like that...ME.  However, I am happy to report that I really like having this person with me all the time.

So, she looks like Dale.  I love this about her.  I've been told by a few people (not actual sources) that babies come out looking like their daddies, so he will instinctually want to take care of them.  I find it weird that men would only want to take care of someone who looked like them, but whatever.  This does, however, support my argument that you should never marry old, ugly billionaires because your children will inevitably look like road maps.  Since Dale was a cute little boy, I am flattered when people say she doesn't look anything like me.  I try not to take offense at the fact that Dale can grow a beard in the time it takes him to brush his teeth and that someone might be insinuating that she has a hint of masculinity about her cuteness.

Well, I don't have any clever endings to this meandering update post, but I'm happy to say to the internet, I'm baaaaack!

Honeymooners (morning sickness is only 4 short months away)

Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwartznegger

Being cute

Being funny

Being the life of the party

If you've made it this far, you had better comment.

Salt of the earth

Don't I look down to earth and easy to get along with?

I would love to post more of these bridals, but I can't bear the thought of putting anymore headshots in disguise out on the web. However, I did want to give a shout out to my photographer Melissa Schoenhardt, who took these whilst a full 9 months pregnant (wowza). I'm pretty sure I got a mild case of bronchitis hanging out on a frozen lake all day (what we do for beauty), so she was definitely a trooper/genius. And, I promise, I did take some pictures looking at the camera and even possibly smiling. . . only because that's what ice princesses do once they've captured their prey.

me thinks we have a problem in Utah County

Have you been to see the new lights/Disneyland parade at the Riverwoods? I'm shocked if you haven't since I'm pretty sure you can see them from Space. But since I love anything slightly overdone (hence my attraction to any event put on by my church), I've visited them several times in the past 3 weeks (Dale lives at the Riverwoods, shh). But, as is the case with me, I've never thought to take a picture. Yeah, I figure that the slideshow of my life in Heaven will be a lot more interesting this way. But, ever-so-often I find something so amazing that I have to take a picture. The following is a sign outside of one of the new glitzy shops that truly blew me away. . . so much so that I actually pulled out the old camera (on my phone):

Isn't it a blessing that the recession has not hit anywhere near University Avenue? Finally there are some businesses out there willing to cater to we paupers and offer some inexpensive alternatives to the traditional family gift exchange. It's good to know that there's someplace in town that will sell someone a beanie or T-shirt for less than $100. Finally.

Going for the Gold

Don't even for one second think that I had to coax Dale into dressing up as pair figure skaters for Halloween this year. He was just as enthusiastic about bringing back the spirit of Lillehammer '94 as I was. What can we say? We love the Olympics, almost as much as we love making costumes and Gold!

To answer your questions:
1. Yes, Dale is wearing my mom's wig.
2. Yes, my mom has a wig (about 5 more where that came from).
3. We found Dale's gold lamme leggings at Savers in the "Activewear" section.
4. The leg warmers Dale is wearing are the shirt sleeves from the turtleneck he has on.
5. Yes, I knew before Halloween night that I would be a mere accessory to Dale's ensemble.
6. We, meaning Dale, made the skates out of 2X4s and painted them.
7. My skates were much sturdier than Dale's, so I did not have to walk around like Frankenstein on Ice all night...like someone else I know.
8. Dale's costume worked very nicely with his karaoke rendition of "Sara Smile" by Hall and Oats that evening.
9. My costume did not go quite as well with my karaoke versions of "Say My Name," by Destiny's Child, and "Carrying the Banner," from the Newsies Soundtrack.
10. Yes, I felt a little chubby in suntan tights and teased bangs.
11. Yes, I think it will be tough to top next year. But, I still think we can!

The following is just to prove that Dale is pretty amazing on skates in general. Check out this awesome jump at Classic Skating last week. We have an equal love for Disco Rollerskating and other stuff junior high kids like.

See ya suckers!

By "ya" I mean single life. Usually, when a young lady gets engaged, it is appropriate to remain humble and grateful, while not bragging or being boastful. . . well, I'm not that kind of girl. Please note the title of this blog. I fully plan on being atrocious.

As I prepare for the final countdown of singlehood, let me state that my life is probably better than yours. Feel free to judge me, hate me, be jealous of me, or despise my existence, because it doesn't change the fact that I have tricked Dale into marrying me on December 28th.

Things I am looking forward to as a newly engaged woman:

1. My precocious smirk when people talk about how amazing my ring is.
2. Telling future brides that they just have to hire "so in so" to do the "whatever," because he is a GENIUS!
3. Being stressed about planning an event that you were never really sure would happen.
4. Using the word "fiance" nonchalantly to co-workers and Bank Tellers.
5. Saying the phrase, "You've got to kiss a few frogs before you meet your Prince."
6. Smiling with my mouth closed and my head cocked slightly to the left.
7. Using the word AMAZING and AWESOME in more texts.
8. Getting into squabbles with my mom about which relatives should get invites.
9. Responding to questions about Dale with, "I'm marrying my best friend," and then doing number 6.
10. Feeling sorry for single girls because they haven't yet experienced true happiness.

The following are some obligatory photos that might cause you to skip the previous paragraphs of hillarity, but oh well.

(Contrast the proposal pictures with a photoshoot I did by myself earlier this year.)
Photobooth of Eternity
Who, me?
Where the magic happens.
Todd and Rachel: Co-conspirators of Operation Congratulation
Cover your eyes, Daddy Warbucks has adopted me.
Cassie was able to stop by for some "Wow Mom" photos.
Miracle of miracles!
Poor Dale is in for a lifetime of this

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