Tuesday, June 28, 2011


My co worker just got married and while relaying her wonderful honeymoon trip to me it got me thinking....

Did I ever tell you guys about the embarrassing plight that P 
and I found ourselves in upon returning home from our honeymoon?

P and I flew to Mexico the morning after we got married and had the most splendid time possible.
The plan was we were going to fly home on Thursday night and then catch another flight to Pennsylvania early that next morning for the reception we were going to have out there.
We had stayed at the La Quinta Inn near the airport and for an extra $5 we were able to park our car in their lot for the duration of our trip to Mexico. After we got home late Thursday night,
we drove home slept for a couple hours and drove back the airport. What we should have done is stayed at the Inn again so that we could have left our car there again for our trip to Pennsylvania but due to poor planning on my part we didn't.


We got to the airport and parked our car in the long term parking lot and boarded the shuttle 
and began our two day journey to the airport. Ok it wasn't two days but
it took forever to get there and P and I were cutting it close as it was. In fact we cut it so 
close that we had to catch a later flight but that's a different story.

The point is after two days of joyous celebration we flew home from PA. 

Our plane landed early afternoon on Sunday and we slowly made our way to the parking lot.

Needless to say we were beyond exhausted and all we wanted to do was go home.

As P and I stepped off the bus at what we thought was our terminal, it hit us.
We had both forgotten to write down our lot letter and number.
We were in the Sahara desert of 
vehicles and we had no idea which direction to head. 

So we did the sensible thing, P took out his car fob and started clicking the button hoping against 
hope we would hear our car cheerfully chirping at us like a goose honking for her goslings. 


And so began our trek. We ended up dragging our luggage and our weary bodies around the 
parking lot for an hour. 

It was about 75 degrees out.....and of course I had to pee.

I stopped being useful to P after about forty minutes because all I saw were mirages that 
made me need to pee even more.

When we finally stumbled upon our car, P had to stop me from kissing it. From then on I have always loved the sight of our car. 

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Fun with Nino

I did a quick little photo shoot with my co worker Nino just for fun. She was such a 
great model and is a talented photographer herself so it was fun to get tips from her.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Milk bottles and shooting the breeze

I was over at my parents house one day and my mom had gotten
some delicious milk from a company that was selling sample products door to door.
But more importantly this milk came in the 
most fantastic jar I had ever seen. I begged her to let me have it.

Problem is I didn't know what I was going to do with it. 

Well today I have found it's true purpose.

My mom has been pretty great and this whole me taking pictures of everthing all of a sudden.
Anytime I need props or crafty things she allows me to 
"shop" at her house. :) Aren't moms the best?

Story time:
Once upon a time while I was a wee lass living in a suburb right outside Chicago, I would often 
spend my summer afternoons at my best friend Tristan's house.
Her house was located outside of town and in the more country-ish part of our area of Illinois. 
Anyway, in her yard were some of the most fantastic willow trees I had ever seen.

One of our favorite activities was to swing on the branches. Along with playing pongs, watching Mrs. Doubtfire six times in a row, playing barbies and fighting over who got to be the banker when we played bank....she usually won. I don't know what the heck we played bank for. Basically
we would use an old type writer and set up her desk right in front 
of the door and use monopoly money and calculators. Generally
I was trying to get a home loan and she would deny it just so we could use the big stamp 
on my "paperwork" that her dad let us borrow. 
Anywho back to the story. So one day we were swinging away in sheer blissdom when 
her dad came home early from work and came over to say 
hi to us. He immediately asked that we not 
swing in the branches because he was afraid that they were gonna break and get all over the lawn.
We did the typical aww but dad routine, I mean heck we only weighed about 70 pounds each but 
he insisted we stop. After he went inside, Tristan and I looked at each other and decided we
would have one last swing. So we each caught hold of a branch,
and swung. And wouldn't you know it the branches broke. We looked at each other with 
a look of half laughter half horror on our faces. Suddenly we heard the front door open.
We immediately picked up our branches and began 
running away dragging them behind us. We hid the evidence of our crime in a 
fort we had built in the huge bushes by her driveway, and Tristan's dad, to this day,
is none the wiser....well unless he reads my blog...which I doubt.

The End. 

Tuesday, June 14, 2011


One of P's favorite things about my dad is his thick 
southern accent. My dad was born and raised in Kentucky and even though has 
moved to several states since then, he still maintains that lovely southern drawl. My friend Cortney 
once described it as "charming". 
That being said, whenever P imitates my dad he always follows it with a spitting tobacco in a spittoon noise.
Kind of like a "whooooPA DING!" sound, it's highly amusing.

The funny thing is my dad has never tasted tobacco in his life. 

Dad did however live near a tobacco plant field and helped harvest it during the summer times. To this day, his fondest
anti-smoking campaign is reminding us that one bite of one of 
those tobacco leaves and you wouldn't make it to the hospital. 



P's dad has enjoyed a leisurely life of chewing tobacco for an odd number of years now. So in point of 
fact it's P's dad who should be accompanied with the tobacco spitting noise, but P's dad doesn't have a rad 
southern accent so where's the fun in that. Stereotype has overruled blatant fact. 

A little while ago my mom was sent an email apparently written by Jeff Foxworthy....I have my doubts. 
Something tells me that's not the work of comedian turned "Are you smarter than a fifth grader" host but maybe I'm wrong. Anyway, the point of the email is it points out a lot of funny
and true things about living in Utah. 

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you live in Utah.
If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you live in Utah
If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed the wrong number, you live in Utah.
If 'vacation' means going anywhere south of Salt Lake City for the weekend, you live in Utah.
If you measure distance in hours, you live in Utah.
If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you live in Utah.
If you have switched from 'heat' to 'A/C' and back again in the same day, you live in Utah.
If you install security lights on your house and garage but leave both unlocked, you live in Utah.
If you can drive 75 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you live in Utah.
If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you live in Utah.
If the speed limit on the highway is 75 mph -- you're going 80, and everyone is still passing you, you live in Utah.
If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow, you live in Utah.
If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, and road construction, you live in Utah.
If you find 10 degrees 'a little chilly' you live in Utah.
If you actually understand these jokes and forward them to all your friends, you live in Utah.

I did understand these jokes and I didn't pass them on to my friends......ok well maybe one or two.

Here are some other popular stereotypes:
Cops like doughnuts-I guess that's true, I haven't been around cops enough to say yes or no but
who doesn't like doughnuts? Mmmm doughnuts.
Woman are bad drivers-no comment
The toast will always land on the buttered side-I don't know if this is really
a stereotype but that happens to me all the time!
It is a common belief in America that all other countries don't exist-I guess my trip to the UK
four years ago was really to a magical land called Narnia. I knew that Turkish delight was
too good to be true.
The airports have all rigged their PA system's so you can't ever understand critical information that's being announced-Again not sure if this is a stereotype but it really bothers me.
People in Kentucky marry their siblings-I for one have seen my dad's family tree and
it definitely has more than one branch.
You are what you eat-Again not a stereotype but what does that even mean?

Also, I hope you enjoy my two pictures of crayons and puzzle pieces. 

Wednesday, June 8, 2011


I love sunsets. 

1st place

Pete actually stopped the car in the road so I could take this picture.
I love that man.

2nd place

3rd place

Wednesday, June 1, 2011


P had to work on Memorial Day
so instead of sitting around pouting, I got a hold of my friend Amy 
and spent the day frolicking in the big city. 

I don't remember what this place is called but it's a delicious stop 
for a yummy treat, or two.....or three.

I'm not much of a lime sorbet eater.
I prefer raspberry but they were out plus I wanted to get the ice cream
with the most vibrant color....so lime it was!