Friday, June 30, 2006
By some small miracle, everyone was home by 5:30 last night and we enjoyed chatting as we got ready for dinner. We piled in to Nici's nice Jeep (one more deer died so she could have that rental) and drove down to the Pine American Restaurant. The name sounds slightly shady, but it was actually a really nice seafood/pasta place. We sat outside on the patio overlooking the little river. We had our standard Cherry Cokes and toasted Michele, Columbia Law, and the upcoming Prom.
Mel made a funny comment that influenced the rest of our conversation with each other. We were eating at a nice place, talking about makeup artists, dresses, limos, and designers (all for the Prom of course) and she commented that she felt like she was on "The Hills." Hahahah. So true! We sounded so snobby talking about all that stuff... we couldn't quit cracking up.
On the drive home, we really rocked out to Natasha Beddingfield's "Unwritten" (see several posts below) and "SOS" by Rihanna. We're talking singing/screaming/dancing with the windows open. We were quite the spectacle.
We took the hyper attitudes and dancing in the house and started our own full blown dance party. We danced some cha-cha, lyrical, and hip-hop.
There were several boys there, who looked fairly annoyed at us, but we just kept on going. Standard fare in our house.
My favorite portion of this Act in "Michele's Birthday" play was the "So You Think You Can Dance" renactments. Michele and Krista did a contemporay dance number and Mel and Krista did a hip hop routine. Oh crapper, it was hilarious. We were pretty pumped.
Onward and upward! We then took our dancing to a more formalized club atmosphere and went 80's dancing at Area 51. Since we moved into our house we've been talking about going--and decided that last night was the night to finally make it happen. All six of us girls went as well as Cody, Ben, Jason, and Seth. We found the front of the room and let loose. HOly aerobics! I feel pretty confident in the hip-hop arena of dancing, and 80's dancing is vastly different... I felt like I lost ALL my rythym. I'd better start practicing for the Prom.
Last night was absolutley fabulous. Just fab. Would that every night could be that fun!
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
In the Disney Channel's original movie High School Musical, the star basketball player and a brainy new arrival discover their love of singing at a karaoke night, then try out for the school musical and challenge the status quo of their cliques in the process. The acting is exceptionally cheesy and the song lyrics cheesier, but the movie is still a good time. If I were still a 12-year-old girl, this would be the best movie that ever happened to my life. And that Joey/Matthew Lawrence look-alike is so dreamy!
The acting was so terrible in this movie, I'm surprised we all made it through the whole thing! Talk about a true guilty pleasure. My favorite dance/song number was in the cafeteria; but the basketball rap/pop dance routine was pretty sweet. The DVD has special "making of" features and the option to turn on the "Sing Along" function. Michele and I were giggling as we sang such classy songs as, "Start of Something New," "Breaking Free," "We're All in this Together," and "Bop to the Top."
Should I be embarrassed?
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Thanks for being a loyal reader.
And this is the end of the most boring blog in the history of my blogging.
Last night Michele called me on my drive home from work wanting to know if I was interested in dinner at my all-time favorite restaurant the Texas Roadhouse. Well how could I say no to that!? I met Mich, Krista, and Heidi out in Murray and we had a delicious meal and entertaining chatter. The movie "Take the Lead" was starting at the movie theater immediately following dinner, so we enjoyed the finest dollar theater Taylorsville has to offer. Upon arrival home we had to practice the dance moves we'd seen on the big screen, so our living room became a makeshift dancefloor for cha-cha, rumba, and some good old fashioned urban hip-hop. It was another quasi-late night as we stayed awake chatting and planning for the prom.
Prom? Yeah, that's right. We're hosting a prom on Saturday July 8th. Location is TBA--and that's what's holding us back at this point. It looks like our best option might be my sister's clubhouse; and I'm pretty excited about that option.
I was filling out my calendar at work this morning and this is what's coming in the next four weeks: Ward Temple Night, Michele's birthday and ensuing activities, Kendall's surgery, possible boating this weekend in Pocatello, camping over the 4th of July, Prom 2006: Last Chance for Summer Romance, Las Vegas for the Dashboard/Ben Lee show with friends, trip to Portland/Seaside with my immediate family, and Krista's birthday. I'm tired thinking about it!
But it's lunchtime at work now and speaking of busy... I'm going to wash my car, get my eyebrows waxed, and maybe get something to eat. Buzzzzzzz.
Monday, June 26, 2006
This weekend, Melissa, Nici, and I went to Star Valley, Wyoming with seven guys. The main event of the weekend was rafting the Snake River. This picture is before our rafting adventure--and right after I lost my legs below the knee in the war.
We didn't have time to run the river again (sissy boys who needed to eat outvoted us) so after our meal in the classic Red, White, and Blue Cafe we took our raft to the lake close by. I actually swam! Me? Water?! Yeah, I'm a little shocked too. Don't think this is me carrying the raft into the water, that's Mel. Would that my legs looked like that. But don't forget, I lost them in the war.
This picture of Mel and I is a little bit of a miracle. Though it looks calm and peaceful, we were sitting in the back of Russ's truck on top of a partially deflated raft bouncing like a birthday-party jumping-castle-thing. (Does anyone know what those things are called?) This is about how great I looked the whole trip.
One of my favorite parts of the trip was when my sister texted me and told me my Grandpa had asked if this trip to Wyoming was considered "hanging out." (He's been reading Oaks in the Ensign.)
Other highlights of the trip:
- "How much does that cost?"
- The "Manliest-Man" Competition
- Harry Potter wands
- Singing/screaming "It's All Coming Back" by Celine on the drive up
- The most amazing card trick in the world!
- The 4 life steps necessary in the 20-30 age decade
Am I missing any?
Friday, June 23, 2006
"I'm more than a little amused that the contestants keep getting thrown ambiguous-sounding dance styles they've never heard of. Heidi and Jason were utterly confused as to what ''pop'' might mean. Turns out it meant a lot of bouncing, with Heidi looking like what I always thought Stacey McGill from the Baby-Sitters Club books would look like, only trashier and more mall-rat."
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Last night Melissa and I went to the Kenny Chesney concert at the USANA Amphitheater in West Valley. We'd both been looking forward to the concert for some time and were excited to spend the longest day of the year (and consequently the first day of summer) at a Country Music event.
Due to several unplanned and unforeseen events, we didn't get to the concert until well after it had started. We missed Carrie and Dierks alltogether (insert groan and sigh here) but caught all of Kenny's set. I'm pretty sure half the state was at that concert last night!
The concert was a rocking good time, but I think Mel and I had more fun people watching than anything else. The cross-section of people attending the concert was the most diverse set I've ever seen in a public "we're all here for the same reason" type place. Like the East Bench, the population at the concert was 99.7% white. Old, young, white trash, high class, urban thug, skater, couples, singles, whoever you can think of --they were there. A mass hodgepodge of Salt Lake City's finest. A melting pot of humanity. The utter and complete homogenization of white folk. And thanks be to Kenny for bringing all walks of Caucasian life together--even if for a brief moment.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Just this week, a 14-year-old girl who says she was sexually assaulted by a 19-year-old user sued MySpace and News Corp., seeking $30 million in damages. And earlier this month, a 16-year-old girl who tricked her parents into getting her a passport flew to the Mideast to be with a 20-year-old man she met through MySpace. U.S. officials in Jordan persuaded the teen to turn around and go home.
Words can't even do justice to this stupidity. Anyone else want to give it a shot?
(quote taken from http://msnbc.msn.com/id/13447786/wid/11915829?GT1=8298)
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
I know this sounds silly, but Krista and I are the best Jenga players. Really, the best. With our powers combined, we are nearly unstoppable. In fact, we were so on our game last night that we were one piece, one piece, from beating the game. (Beating the game occurs when you remove every piece possible without the tower toppling.) We've beat the game one time before (Apr. 05) but this is the closest we've come to doing it again.
We own Jenga.
Did I mention it was hot? Yeah, we might have played in our underwear.
I hate to admit it, but my house is slightly obsessed with this song.
My favorite memories surrounding this song are:
* Driving around Sugarhouse late at night with the windows open after an evening at "The Hotel." We were singing, dancing, and generally grooving.
* Texts from Melissa - for the last two weeks I've been getting random song quotes through texts.
* This is the opening song to one of our newest favorite MTV shows, "The Hills."
* Anyone in the house will start singing one or two words from the song and can stop--and nearly immediately someone else will pick up the song lyrics.
Why are we so obsessed? I don't know--maybe it's a throwback to early 90's pop we've all been so desperately missing.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
"Don't think, just ______."
Let me give you some examples:
1. With the use of cell phones. Whether it be texting something risque, or calling that certain someone--it's better not to think too much about it. "Don't think, just text."
2. In scary situations. This weekend Michele and I went to a "water-park-ish" place that had a 35. ft platform. Standing at the top, Mich had a hard time getting herself to jump. Firmly planted on my pool chair some 35-feet below her, I kindly encouraged her by yelling loud enough for the entire park to hear, "Don't think, just jump!"
3. Email. A certain roommate's ex popped back onto the scene after a 9-month quasi-hiatus through email. The methods we used (and by "we," yes, I mean all of us) to construct a reply are a blog in and of itself, but the guts used to summon the courage to hit the "Send" button were gathered in part due to the war cry, "Don't think, just send."
We understand the problems the "Don't think, just ____ " statement could eventually get us into. But for now, it's most typically used to force ourselves into potentially embarrassing situations. So give some credit for trying and making ourselves vulnerable. For vulnerability is the catalyst for personal progression.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
For the 2nd month in a row, I won one of the four raffle prizes offered to our entire company at our monthly employee meeting. I sat in my chair, raffle tickle calmly laid before me, and I knew I was going to win.
My number was called slowly from the front... 3...3...4...8...1........0. Wahoo. Granted it's only $20 to Applebees, but even the ticket caller (the founder of the company) recognized me and reminded everyone I won last time. I hope the fellow co-works don't incite a riot and raid my oatmeal supply.
I like being lucky. I never win anything large or terribly exciting--but I find money and I win raffles and contests (like the cake dive) with terrible odds.
Sometimes it's good to be me.
Last night was the first full scale partners competition. 2 hours long! Ten couples were assigned a random partner and a style of dance. The styles ranged from hip-hop to Broadway, lyrical to mambo. The partners have a week to conquer their dance routine--and the results are sometimes breathtakingly beautiful, sometimes comically laughable.
I may not be able to convince any of you that it's a good show. But if you're bored and looking for something to do on Wednesday night, give SYTYCD a shot! I had four people at my house, skeptical at first, gradually find themselves sucked in to this fun show. Here's a run down of my favorite contestants:
Benji Schwimmer is a West Coast Swing specialist from Redlands, Calif. Last night he danced a hip hop routine that was fabulous! I found the video online, I'm working on getting it posted. He is a little white-boyish, but in some ways it's so endearing! After he danced one of the judges asked him about the two years he gave up dancing. "It was so I could serve a mission for my church in Mexico," little Benji said. Hello white Mormon boy booting shaking. I love it. And yes, I know his pictures makes him look like a goofy white Mormon. He's allowed.
Check out his video here: http://www.rickey.org/blog/2006/06/donyelle_and_benji_hip_hop.html
Natalie and Musa are the most beautiful couple. She has the hottest bod! They danced a mambo last night that was pretty sexy.
Travis and Martha are fabulous dancers together--they did a Broadway piece last night that was so fun to watch! Travis has amazing footwork. CHeck out their video here:
People. I know this is a guilty pleasure. It's a little ridiculous, but it's OH so addicting. I tap my foot during the entire show. After it ended I gave in to the urge and broke it down on our hardwood for a song or two.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
So I woke up in the middle of the night needing to use the facilities. Already disoriented because I never wake up mid-sleep, I finished my business when I looked outside and noticed how bright the moon was. Finding a perfect photo opportunity (gotta love "free" digital film), I padded sleepily back to my room for my camera.
The window was open about six inches--the perfect height for my digital to sit on the ledge. I disabled the flash, because I wanted the natural light of the moon to be the focus of the picture. I was so intent on the focus of the picture that I didn't hear the approach.
"Hey. What are you doing?" came the loudest voice you ever heard at half-awake at 2 in the morning.
My heart skipped a beat--I swear I stroked a little.
I don't remember much about the interchange Krista and I shared half-in, half-out of the bathroom at 2 in the morning last night--but I do remember I was trying to keep my heart from full on cardiac arrest. I distinctly remember for one brief moment being so shaken up that I could have started bawling. Luckily, I didn't.
I let her in the back door (she'd been locked out and was going to climb through the bathroom window) without saying a word, glided wordlessly to my room, closed the door, and just stood there. Hello anxiety.
Here's the picture that almost cost me my life:
Sunday, June 11, 2006
This game is actually more of a storytelling adventure. Each person only gets one word at a time and the story is passed from person to person to person. Not one person has control over the direction of the story--and it's one of the funniest things to see how the story evolves. In last nights case, we had stories about a porcupine with STDs, George with three sacks full of water, and a few other non-printables. We laughed and laughed and laughed. Who knew sitting in the car in the dark on the side of the highway could be so much fun? I'll have to consult with the other authors to get a version to print. Ohhhhh man. Good times.
"One Word Storytelling" is the new "Would You Rather?" at the Holla House.
Friday, June 09, 2006
NewBoy: So what are your hobbies?
Nat: Well, I read…. And blog.
NewBoy2: So, what’s your favorite blog?
Nat: To read? Or that I’ve written?
(birds chirping in the distance)
NewBoy: So Krista, tell me about Oregon... I've never been there.
Nat: “Too Cool” has starting acting too cool again. I’m kind of relieved. He’s put me back in my place—and it’s easier to judge him.
Kris: Because it’s totally necessary to judge.
Nat: Exactly. How else would we separate the wheat from the chaff? You can’t eat all chaff.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
According to Michele, idiots in Las Vegas were betting large sums of money on the world ending on Satan's day. The lunacy and utter lack of logical sense in said option blows my mind--and if you can't figure out the nutty-factor in betting on the world ending, I've got a full tank of gas and a map down I-15 to Vegas.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
A Modest Proposal
Walking down the halls at Marcos de Niza High School, one is constantly bombarded by waves of faceless zombie twins, triplets and even quadruplets. Not identical by race, religion or genetic composition, each set of 'equals' carries the physical and material brand of a name brand store. Like branding cattle, Abercrombie and Fitch, the Gap and Tommy Hilfiger have brainwashed the minds of America's youth into advertising for their companies in high schools across the country by wearing their line of products.
Marcos de Niza is a public high school in Tempe, Arizona. The government provides the facilities, staff, and supplies used to make the school run with tax money directly from its citizens. Whereas Arizona is ranked 44th in the country for educational programs I hereby propose that the stores Abercrombie and Fitch (but not excluding the likes of The Gap, Old Navy, Ralph Lauren, etc.) pay taxes towards the State of Arizona Departments of Education.
Mainstream Marcos is becoming an advertising bonanza. Looking around in any of my classes I know without a shadow of a doubt, where my peers shop. Because it's plastered all over their shirts, pants, hats and tech-vests. Oft times I am given grief for my anti-Abercrombie attitude. But I forget that an avid Abercrombie shopper has a certain line of thinking that goes something like this:
Now isn't it neat that I can buy my clothes at absolutely outlandish prices and get such a good deal? I mean, for $39 I can buy a long sleeved gray shirt with one orange stripe across the front straight from the sweatshops of Taiwan. If I'm really lucky, the holes in the hems should emerge within the week. When I show up at school I am confident in my decision of this new shirt, when I recognize my same shirt on twelve different people. Eight people wearing my variety, three in blue, and one in yellow. How fortunate I am to not even realize how stupid I am in conforming, because if I did I may actually come to me senses and be my own person. I don't think I could handle that.
Approximately 65 % of the 2100 kids (1365) on campus wear name brand clothing. School is in session 7 hours a day. Minimum wage is $5.15 an hour. (1365 kids) x (7 hours a day) x ($5.15) = $49, 208.25 per day. School is in session 180 days a school year. (180 days) x ($49,208.25) = $8,857,485 per year. Let it be proposed that a collaboration of stores gather together and pay the Arizona State Department of Education $8,857,485 to each school in every town, in every state, every year for advertising going on during school hours.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Yesterday, being Saturday, was the perfect example of why Saturday is the ultimate best day of the week.
I woke up around 11 and withdrew myself reluctantly from bed. I probably could have rolled over and slept for another hour or so, but I restrained. Krista and Nici were busy bees cleaning up the house so I caught the fever and started sorting my laundry. Three loads and a quasi-cleaner room later I was still in my pajamas with three-day old hair. But I accomplished at least something. (Well.... something. My jeans load was totally completed, the whites are clean but still in the basket, and the coloreds are still wet in the washer. I should follow up on those.)
Melissa, Nici, and I decided to go to lunch. I cut the Greek genre short and so we headed up Immigration Canyon to a little cafe called Ruby's. We sat on the patio and enjoyed the glorious day. Nici met a man, and we enjoyed overhearing the strange conversations going on around us.
We hit Fashion Place Mall next. Just meandering back and forth in a bunch of stores. Here are the statistics:
- 3 hours.
- 5 stores.
- 2 bathroom breaks.
- 7 purchases by 3 shoppers.
- 1 lost bag.
- 2 girls freaking out over a random sighting of the Davis County "Dream Boy."
- 15+ super intense salespeople hovering non-stop.
We've worked up an appetite again--Stoneground on 4th South is the dinner destination. I think we were the only straight people having dinner that night--which spurned a conversation about what "gay" looks like. Did diners at the restaurant believe Mel, Nici, and I were gay as well? We did look rather scroungy--bad hair, long shorts, ease and comfort sitting together. Did we fit in the scene? Would we have "fit in" better or worse had we been dressed nicer and looked better? This conversation was an absolute piggyback on the "How do you know if you're white trash?" conversation we had at lunch.
We're so deep. I know.
What to do next? It's 9:30 and the night is still young right? Well, somehow we decided to go dancing. Like clubbing dancing. So there we went. Downtown Salt Lake City. Bumping at 11 at night. Our experience was pretty positive, but the three hardcore rap songs in a row that brought the gangster thugs out in force was a little much. It's so funny to me that people go clubbing for real--that they take so seriously what they wear. What a silly environment. Oh a good time.
The evening was completed with a trashy RedBox flick called, "Something New." A touching romantic comedy about one over-achiever black woman who's set up with an accomplished white landscaper and the ensuing struggles and problems associated with interracial dating and the fact that sooner or later we must reduce the list of "must haves" for a potential relationship. It was a winner, I'll tell you what.
I haven't had nearly the time to blog in detail about each of the "things" I did yesterday. Each set really, honestly, could have been a blog of its own... and individually the scenes would be much funnier than the broad overview I've provided, but what're you gonna do. I need to be a better blogger. So you get what you get.
It was a general day of acceptance. 19 year old boys who hit on Nici, the white trash, the homosexuals, the other races, the charmers from our past... The only differing social segments missed were the midgets... but then on our way home.... we drove by Hobbitville.