It POURED rain all day today in St. George.
A rare occasion for this desert, where a twenty-minute rainstorm between long stretches of sunshine is not uncommon.
I love desert rain, it is so warm and it brings out the vibrant colors of the area, so I really didn't mind it today, as long as I get some good sunshine in before I have to head back to the grey slushpit of mediocrity they call Provo.
If it wasn't sacrilegious to think that the Provo Tabernacle burnt itself down because it couldn't handle one more awful Provo winter, then.....I would think that.
Which I still might.
But I'd never admit it on my blog.
So Christmas break has already been stellar.
So stellar, in fact, that I just used the word stellar, a word I'm pretty sure you have to have long acrylic nails with zebra-stripe tips on them and frizzy, reddish-curlyish-burnedish hair to merit its use in everyday conversation.
BUT, despite the fact that I have short, uneven nails with chipped, black nailpolish on them
I'm saying it.
Stellar.
Only because it really has been.
(That's right readers, I knew you felt a list coming on)
And here it is...
1. I have yet to wake up before noon.
2. I saw my best pregnant friend and her best un-pregnant husband and listened while they so graciously gave me some serious dating advice/orange juice.
3. Met with the TPC (Trivial Pursuit Club) for a rousing Christmas match that ended in me losing by one wedge largely because I could not name the other two chipmunks (Simon and Theodore).
(Fun fact I learned this time around: All members of the SS were required to have their blood type tatooed into their armpits. How weird would that conversation be?
"Franz is dying! Quick! Check his bloodtype!"
"How do I do that?"
".............wow, this is really awkward, but....")
4. Spent a late night at the Denny's on the St. George Boulevard where all the creeps hang out.
And us.
We go to this Denny's intentionally to see all the weirdos there and I sometimes wonder if there are other people who go to this Denny's for that exact same reason and if sometimes when they go WE are the creeps they are looking for.
5. Heard my mother and father sing in our church choir. My mom will be reading this post soon, and shortly thereafter she will call up the stairs to me for the thirteenth time since Sunday and ask, "But Katie, are you SURE the choir sounded alright?" and I will hit the button on the tape recorder I have set up for choir Sundays that will call back to her "Yes mother. Like a chorus of Angels." or "You never sounded better! And I mean it!" or "...and did I mention you can triple your profits??" which is the bit at the end of the tape left over from the 1994 AMCO salesman I recorded over who is also sick of being asked by my mother how the choir sounded and is trying to change the subject.
6. Spent an afternoon at Costco with previously mentioned mother. Once we finished all the samples we went back through and got our favorite ones again. "They never even remember you," my mom said excitedly, as if she has done this before.
My mom really knows how to keep the season alive.
Double costco samples=Stellar.
Seasons Greetings.
Katie
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