HBD NBD

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!

Recap
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

Ember has sing

I imagine that I have been thinking a lot about embarrassing moments this week because I've had the honor of playing Simon Cowell at my school's Talent Show auditions last Wednesday and Thursday. I assume that most everyone has at some point in their life attended a Talent Show, but until Fox decided to air the American Idol audition footage, we've never had the privilege of seeing the raw cut. Let me tell you, it is both a blessing and a curse. A chance to see all of the talent at our school, (pause, in case you don't understand what a comma is) along with some . . . others. If I were to further detail some of these "other" talents, I would have officially bought myself 2 more hours in Hell, which at this point I can't afford. So, for the sake of my eternal salvation, I will use some refrain.

As I was posting the final show list on my door this last Friday, I reassured myself with the thought that those disappointed will soon get over it, and that rejection is just part of the "growing up process." But, in reality, we all know that that's a lie. If that were true, I wouldn't be able to list in chronological order every embarrassing and/or disappointing moment of my life. Interestingly, the list from elementary school is twice as long as the rest, since I have now added to it through retrospection. Things that I thought weren't humiliating at the time are now mortifying as an adult. Much like my own talent show try outs.

Anecdotal examples: In Kindergarten when I sang a song about Tithing to a panel of mostly Pagan-elementary-school teachers, or when I auditioned in 6th grade by singing (not a talent of mine) "Tale as Old as Time" with the cassette recording of Angela Lansbury singing behind me. . . I ended by saying, "Off to the cupboard with you now Chip, it's past your bedtime." I'm haunted by what all the adults in the room were thinking.

So, in combination with actual embarrassing moments, the list is pretty long. Why is it that as much as I wish I could, I cannot forget about the time in 5th grade that one of my dad's friends mistook me for a boy and asked me if I thought the girl behind the counter at the diner we were eating at was cute? I use the term "diner" pretty loosely, as in actuality, we were at a restaurant attached to the Livestock Auction near my house. Undoubtedly, the burger I was chewing on was probably an unclaimed steer from the previous week's auction . . . the menu was written in pencil. But, don't worry, my dad smoothed the whole situation over by pulling off my backwards baseball cap (Yep. For further information, please see "When I Was a Boy"), and exclaimed "This is a girl!" Ah, the words every young girl longs to hear, a correction to her gender. Phew, crisis evaded. Thanks dad. Obviously I, like my students, have not gotten over it.

Maybe one day I will. But, until then, I take comfort in knowing that I can be part of someone else's humiliating journey through adolescence. Since obviously, once you're an adult, the embarrassment stops. Cough, cough.

Non-embarrassing-Adult Moments (I apologize to both Cassie and my sisters Kym and Lacy who I included without their consent):

We've all been harnessed at some point, right?

The Olympics adds 45 pounds

Kym posing with a stuffed version of our school mascot

Do not show Oprah this picture! But, sometimes even the Cowardly Lion needs to send a text.

I took this photo 7 years ago before church. It still make me laugh just as hard today.