Friday, July 29, 2011


I've found it. 
Inspiration to blog I mean. 
I have had the hardest time in the world having the motivation to blog ever since I found myself with no job, no school, and all the time in the world. 
Backwards right? 
Today I am attempting to get some work done that my Dad is paying me to do for him so that I can pay the bills and buy things like ten packs of pasta for five dollars (I dream big) and triple chunk brownie mix to replace the one I accidentally ate of Bj's when he left his at my house. (his fault) 
Anyways, nothing makes me want to blog more than actually having something better to do, so here I am, writing away for an audience that will not pay me rather than for a father who will. 
(Unless everyone wants to chip in. Am I right? I mean...right?) 

This has been a summer of obsessions. 
If you know me, you know that this has also been a lifetime problem, me obsessing over things, but we are just going to focus on the past three months and leave out the time I was obsessed with the footlong meatball from Subway or that whole "Improv Club" phase.

Obsession #1: Bees. 
This is real. 
Me: "Oh hey my friend Mindy from work. Thanks for having me over for lunch. I'm expecting a normal day here at your house." 
Mindy: "Only if a normal day is putting on my professional bee-keeping equipment and standing between two beehives, calling the little creatures into your arms like a bee-goddess from the wild."

Yeah, I wanted to do that.
So we did.
It was one of the most fascinating experiences of my life. Bees are such incredible animals. 
Ever since then, every time I see a bee, I feel like cuddling it into my little hands and promising it chocolate and flowers every Valentine's Day and that I will do the dishes every other night and most Sundays if we can just spend some time together and be in love.
It's really serious.

Obsession #2: Fireworks
I have always loved fireworks. Everyone does right?
But this summer I have had the chance to see 6 or 7 really good firework shows and I have become addicted.
The trick is to live in Northern Utah.
Here's how it goes
Sometime in March every year all the churro companies around here get together and sneak caffeine into all the small-town mayors drinks and then convince them to rotate holding festivals every weekend for the whole summer.
Seeing as how this is their yearly dose of anything stronger than pink grapefruit flavored Airborne, they all get really tipsy and somehow see this conglomeration of festivals as necessary.
The exception is the Spanish Fork mayor who is obviously given something a little stronger than caffeine and takes things well over the line from fruit-themed carnivals (Strawberry Days, Peach Days, Etc.) and holds Llama Fest at a Krishna Temple.

Truth be told, they can hold a festival in honor of Kim Jong Il and I'm still going to attend, as long as there is fireworks.
 Here is a picture from the St. George 4th of July fireworks. That bright ball of flames at the bottom is the waterfall of fireworks they have shot off the red hill every year since I can remember.
Every year everything catches on fire.
Every year there are plenty of firetrucks nearby and the burn is incredibly controlled.
And every year there is a woman on the sidewalk next to me on the phone with some city official who is calmly explaining to her that the city is, in fact, aware that fire burns things.

Obsession #3: Baby Carlos
I know I've talked a lot about my best friend Jenna who was pregnant and then who gave birth and then, as a direct result of the previous two conditions, now has a child.
But that doesn't mean I don't push "publish post" and then proceed to drool for the next hour over pictures of him and his soft head of gorgeous hair and his little hands and feet and how darling he is when he yawns.
I have a serious baby crush.
When I was at home a few weeks ago I would try my hardest to go do things with other friends.
I would be on my way to Durangos or Iceberg to meet up with people and somehow I would be suddenly pulling into Jenna's driveway and holding her baby before I knew what hit me.
That kid is a magnet and I opposing magnet.
I almost said refrigerator but I didn't feel good about comparing myself to a large, food-filled item on my own blog. 

Because there isn't much to say after those darling pictures of the most perfect baby I will have to leave it at that and get back to "work" or as I like to call it "Pinterest."

I'll be in California for the next week but when I'm back I should have more work so expect more posts. 

Thursday, July 7, 2011

For: Denise/Ron (for whining about not being in my blog)

My 4th of July was the best ever. (there I go again with superlatives, and now I'm going to make some sort of claim about how I mean it this time.) 
I do! It's true! It was! 

We kicked things off at Grandma Wade's. For those of you who are new to my blog, new to my life, new to Grandma Wade, or all of the above, let me fill you in. 
In the world of Grandma Wade every day is a holiday and every holiday is the most important day in the existence of this whole world. 
Themed name cards. 
Programs  on every table with hour by hour schedules. 
Actual programs. (I'm talking sit in a circle, share your talents particular to the holiday, hold hands, stop giving wet-willie's to your little brother...)
The works. 
It's the best. (See picture below) 
 Seeing as how I love America more than I love giving wet-willie's to my little brother (so gross, but so funny, I'm 22 years old), I really enjoyed the program.
 I even recited "The New Colossus," which is the poem found on the statue of liberty that I memorized in 9th grade. (okay, so our family forgot to plan our part of the program.) 
However, seeing as how all good things must come to an end, it was eventually time to leave the family festivities and head to the friend festivities. 
After convincing a few people to be my friend, and then paying them an extra $5 to hold festivities, I had my parents thoroughly convinced that they could head on home and skip tucking me in that night. 
Of the bunch, Chad and I were the most obviously patriotic. 
(I am obviously wearing a heart-shaped American flag ring. Ten dollars to anyone who can spot the flag Chad is wearing.*) 
 (*I gave my last ten dollars to Chad to be in this picture with me.) 
Pictured below is my friends watching the fireworks and being really patriotic. 
 This is the truck that was parked next to us, also watching the fireworks. 
Despite our best efforts, there is no way we could have beat this man, his truck, or the handcuffs hanging from his mirror, in displaying small-town American pride. 
You win. You always do. 
 Day 1 of 4th of July just wasn't enough for us, so we pulled a Groundhog Day, woke up the next morning, and started the festivities all over again. 
I'm being serious
We really did that. 
Day 2 started off with a giant Slip n' Slide at the park. 
Though it may look like I am "tumbling" down, instead of sliding, the picture is deceiving, I am actually just sliding down on my toes, and...I'm blurry. 
 After a few rounds of human bowling and Devin throwing out his back, we called it a day and went over to Tyler Carlson's for a barbecue and fireworks. 
I spent a while sitting in his living room until someone asked me why I was "shimmying" in the recliner. (It was a massage chair, but not everyone knew that. Jokes on me.)  
Then, we went out front to practice our spells. 

I killed Voldemort, or whatever. 
They actually made a movie about it. 
It's coming out July 15th if you want to go see it. 
Oh and roman candle wars are really fun. 
This country really knows how to celebrate. 
Dare I say it again? 
God Bless America. 

Monday, July 4, 2011

Broc: "I just heard someone use the word "shindig" in an actual sentence"

Last night Erin, Broc and I went to the Gunlock Rodeo.
Gunlock is a really small town about fifteen minutes away from Santa Clara. 
 Small town rodeos always bring back memories for me of being fourteen and going with my friends to the rodeo to meet hot fourteen-year-old cowboys by using sweet pick-up-lines like "oh. uh. is this the line for snow cones?" 

 As we were parking and walking in we heard the announcer say, 
"This rodeo funds our entire town for the next year." 
That is real. 
On Gunlock's wikipedia page, under "Events" it says
"Gunlock, Utah is the site of the Annual Gunlock Rodeo."
And that is it. 
The only real point for this next picture is to show you what the children of Gunlock look like and to say that children in boots and belt  buckles are incredibly darling. 
Erin. Me. Rodeo. 
Pictured next is the Chicken Chase, the second funniest event of the Gunlock Rodeo. 
My camera died before I could get pictures of the first funniest even, which was the donkey-watermelon race. 
It's hard to describe how hilarious it is to watch fifteen donkeys, each with two riders, run into each other and throw off their riders who are trying to pick up a watermelon and ride them back across the finish line. Only one donkey actually made it back and it was with a boy wrapped around the front of his neck and one laying stomach down over his rear end, watermelon held above his head. 
I guess I described it anyways. 
But trust me, seeing that event in person is bucket-list worthy. 
The picture above is the 0-6 year old children lined up for the chicken chase, and below is them taking off. 

Essentially all they have to do is catch one of the ten or so chickens with their incredibly uncoordinated hands. 
Once they have caught one, the announcer walking around the arena will bring the microphone to them and ask them their name. 
Announcer: "What is your name son?" 
4 year old"Chicken!" 
Announcer"But what is your NAME?"
4 year old"Chicken!!" 
Announcer"I see that. You've caught a chicken. Great job. But what is your name??"
4 year old"CHICKEN!!!!" 

You never know, in a place like Gunlock, the kid's name might have actually been Chicken. 

The suckiest part about a rodeo is how as soon as you throw your rope and you miss, it's all over. 
It's sad to see the kids who you know have been practicing for months just to throw this rope at a little cow that is running away from them. 
And when you put it that way, the concept of a rodeo is actually super bizarre. 
I pointed this out to Erin who enlightened me on the subject. 
"I bet there was this guy with some rope, a cow, and a horse and he thought 'I bet I could put all of these together and do somethin' with em'." 
And I thought, if that's how this goes then I want to meet the guy who came up with the donkey-watermelon race.

The good news is, my cousin Mitch, who was roping in his first rodeo, threw his rope, from his horse, and caught that cow. 
We were so proud. 

Happy 4th everyone. 
God Bless America. 
And God Bless Gunlock.