Ta Middle

So I went to Ireland, right? Yeah, those were some good times. I've hardly blogged about them because it's kind of overwhelming you know? But it's time to post some more photos and fill you in on something besides avian bird flu.

Ireland is exactly like you'd imagine it to be. Green, lush, rolling hills, the whole thing. If you did a Google image search on Ireland, you'd probably find yourself knee-deep in the same photos we took. Regardless, it was lovely. The question that's probably been at the forefront of your mind since you found out about my fling with Ireland has to do with castles, right? It may have kept you up at night. But I'm here to tell you we did in fact tour a castle. Check it off the list.

I don't remember much about the timing and details of the building itself; but it was old and very tall. Having come all the way across the Atlantic, I wasn't going to let 215 very steep, very windy, very crumbly stone stairs keep me from climbing to the top. I counted the stairs to keep my mind focused as my weanie arms hoisted my body weight up, up and away. I gave my left quad a gold star when we got home that night as it did all the below the belt hefting. Check out how steep these stairs are:

There were rooms to view throughout the castle. I don't remember much--I was probably sitting on an old bench trying to slow my erratic heart and keep the huffing and puffing to a dull roar. The one piece I do remember was an original table from the Spanish Armada that was recovered off the coast of Ireland when it was sunk during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. (To be fair, I probably only found this interesting because I'd just watched Elizabeth: Golden Age on the flight not two nights before.) Blah blah blah. The climb was well worth it as the views over the Shannon were beautiful.

The day started pretty foggy (as did all our days in the UK), but burned off by the time we got to the top of the castle.

Going down stairs on crutches is much different than going up. Up is about the physical, down is all mental. You can tell from the pictures below (all taken post-climb) that I was pretty mushy on both counts once we were down. I had a nice twenty minute rest on a bench while the other girls explored around a bit. It was a good moment for all parties involved. I didn't have to struggle to keep up, and they could get a move on.

That's a face that looks done for the day. But no. It's not even noon. The other half of this day will be coming shortly. Until then! I leave you with tidings of comfort and joy. Comfort and joy. Oh-oh tidings of comfort and joy.

Blood Brothers

Isn't it funny when you have the same conversation many times in a short period of time with different parties?

In the last few weeks, I've found myself constantly talking about the idea of old friends. To put it bluntly, you can meet new people and get along smashingly well--but there's no substitute for time. History provides a deep well of shared experience and commonality that can't be forced or rushed. (This can be applied to any kind of relationships--romantic or platonic.) I don't really feel like waxing poetic on this subject--as I've done nothing but discuss it for weeks now--but also because I have a feeling you know what I'm talking about theoretically.

Now for the application:

As mentioned in my last post, I got out of Boston (again) this last weekend. A friend from BYU was moving home, so I headed down to spend time with him and several other old friends on his last weekend in the city. Long story short, I spent two+ days with friends I've known through at least three of my previous life stages. The setting has changed, our jobs have changed, etc., but who we are at the root hasn't changed. In some ways, these are the people who I feel know me the best; and with whom I feel the most comfortable. There's something safe about having friends who know your weaknesses well and love you despite them. And prove it by hanging around. They are my family. We had a grand time doing not much, but laughing a ton and I really didn't want to come back to Boston. That might be one of the first times I've truly felt that. Sigh. Growing pains, huh?

Moral of the story: go email, call, text, visit, or write a letter to an old friend. He or she will no doubt delight in receiving it. That quote about if we don't learn history we're doomed to repeat it? I'll add my two cents: If we don't remember history, we're doomed to forget it.

A short blog

Going to NYC, wish you could come.

Crutches are too exhausted from the UK Extravaganza; they're staying home.

Is there a word that looks like it should rhyme with come and home but doesn't with either? I must be overlooking something.

Happy ^Leap Day!

For the Strength of You

Is it okay that today I just consider myself a survivor?

Crutching to the bus in 25 mile-per-hour wind while it's snowing...? It's a miracle I made it to work today; it's more exhausting than you can imagine to fight the elements and the incapacity of your own body. Regardless, as I crutch-crutch along, I feel pretty strong; even though I'm exhausted, have two-day hair, and a questionable color matching outfit. I'm lucky to be so mobile; crutches have been on my right hand and on my left for six-weeks now today.

2008 hasn't exactly been a banner year for me. You know, because you've read about some of the drama-rama; some of you have heard the other 75 percent of the small and simple tragedies that could ultimately lead to my complete unraveling. Slow and steady wins the race.

Through it all however, I've had these really great moments and reminders that the sky isn't really falling. Sometimes I just need a little reality check. Last weekend, when I was so ill, I'd call home seeking some comfort (isn't that what you do when you're ill?), and my mom would force me to tell her three nice, good, positive things before I could start telling her how SARS really feels like. At that stage, I had to stretch for positivity (1) I have nothing planned for this weekend so I can stay in bed and not feed obligated. 2) The screen porch is cold enough to keep my Diet Cokes cold and close for easy access. 3) I'm not the sickest of the UK travelers. [Wink.]). Now that I'm back on my feet (or foot and boot), it's a little easier to find the silver lining. So! The short list of great, good, and wonderful things in the last 24-hours of my life!

• Went to the Celtics/Cavs game last night. It'd been just over a month since my last game, and it was super fun to be back. A win of course.
• Had the best hamburger of my entire life at the Cheesecake before the game. Honestly, I'm still thinking about that burger. The company was also most exceptional--it's become kind of traditional on game nights.
• My broken leg bone has healed. That's right. I'm to start weaning off the boot and switch to an air-cast somethin' or other. I'll still commute with the boot.
• I've been walking the mile to and from the express bus and my house in the morning and after work. The uphill portion is the way home (of course!) so I'm typically exhausted when I get home, but it's a good tired. It's a feat that I'm kind of proud of.
• American Idol. Ohhhhhhhhh. I'm so happy it's back. True lovers of AI know what I'm talking about. It's pretty geeky to be online gChatting with my friends about the performances and our reviews while the show is still airing, but it's just who we are.
• Last night's Project Runway is waiting for me at home!
• The bird flu is 89% gone.

Alright, I think that's it for now. This was going to be a short post. I've been accused of my inability to write a short blog. Sigh. I fear it may be so. (Confirmed. I did a word count of my front blog page. 16,000 words.) Long story long, be grateful you're not on crutches. And if you are, gather strength from all the pitying looks of the people you pass on the street, those staring from their cars, the sideways glances of commuters on the bus and prove how strong you can be. Keep crutchin.'

Ta Start

American Idol or not, I'm going to blog tonight. In fact, I'm staying at work late (off the clock mind you) to put forth some good blogging information about the trip. So much of last week's joy has been overshadowed by the bird flu still flitting around in each of us who made the trek. But no longer will I rejoice in sorrow, but will rather share the love. Because the Black Eyed Peas are still looking for it. I know. I heard them on the radio just yesterday.

So, I've plugged the external hard drive laden with photos of the Emerald Isle into my CPU, turned on some rocking Counting Crows, and taken Tron off. For the next 50 minutes I am yours. But then I got a bus to catch; and it's the last Express of the night. So like a true journalist, I now have a deadline. Bring on the sensationalism!

The UK Extravaganza will encompass more than just this post. I'm just warning you now. There's too many photos to lump them all together. And I only have 46 minutes! (No, it didn't take me 4 minutes to write the last two sentances, I've been deciding which photos to upload to Flickr and started uploading to Youtube and etc. etc. etc.... 45 minutes.... quit wasting time Nat.)

So we flew out of Boston Friday night at 7 o'clock on a very nice jet. The hugest jet I've ever flown on, that's for sure. Aer Lingus. Who knew? We started giggling the second the overhead announcer started talking--the accent! So great! We're going overseas! Did you know the flight is only five and a half hours? A shorter flight than flying home to Portland. Back up one second to the airport. No lie, seven tour busses were standing in the security line; at least 400 people (mostly foreign high schoolers); probably a 2+ hour wait. Oh don't worry, I hobbled past the right person and all four of us were escorted to the front of the line. First time Tron and the crutches came in handy. Forward two seconds. We land in Shannon, Ireland. Local time is 6am. Boston time is 1am. Are we tired? No! Did we sleep on the plane? No! We were too busy playing interactive trivia games and watching movies on our personalized screens.

But this blog shall not be a blow by blow of our entire trip! I'm bored already. You're falling asleep at the keyboard. And time is waning thin. Thirty-four minutes left! Let the parade of photos begin!

Our first photo in Limerick as the sun rose on the Shannon, a street we parked on to review the map, the main house at Adare Manor.


I don't think it would be a stretch to say, that all four of us thought our accomodations were the very best part of the trip. Our deal was amazingly cheap, and it was lovely to have our own car and fly on a great airline, but we were blown away by what we were given at the Adare Manor. We had a 2-bedroom townhouse with a full kitchen and living room. Each room had 2-queens and it's own bathroom. We prepared (well, I cleaned up) a Sunday feast in our home and ate local cheese, bread, grapes and apples most night in our own house. It was awesome. The grounds were gorgeous, the manor house was un-REAL, and the customer service of every staff member was unparalled to anywhere I have ever been. (Note: Bold, italics, and ALL-CAPS are not strong or varied enough to convey how fantastic this place was.) I should be writing a blog all about the Adare, and I'm trying, but it honest to blog will never be good enough.

The grounds--the town of Adare is relatively small. Adare Manor, and it's 5-star golf course is definitely the largest tourist draw.


The view over the driving range from our balcony, Esther dwarfed by some local shrubs, Sunday night cards and snacks


But really. Photos just don't do it justice. Photos won't do any of the trip justice. We discovered this early in our trip. Believe it or not, I didn't take nearly as many photos as I usually do, because I recognize the trip just can't be captured. The photos you'll see in this, and future posts are a collective pool of the four cameras on the trip.

Like my writing, you'll notice grammar, spelling errors, and unfunny in my impromptu speaking. Please don't point them out, I'm on edge enough about being a crappy newscaster. And yes, I know my voice gets high and my mouth moves in strange ways. Pressure to perform. It's who I am.


I recognize we made this video and I posted pictures anyway, and will post a million more... but I have to TRY to make you see how amazing it is, don't you see? And I hate to say it, but steel yourself for more videos now... we took some. Me and my lispy-stroke mouth (thanks Mal) will be back.

Oh my gosh! I have to put Tron on and get outta Dodge or I'm a gonna miss the bus. And I already walk a mile to the bus stop both ways on crutches... must leave! But I've started! A start! And if I never start I'll never finish!

My first deadline piece is no good. It's like I'm writing for the Daily Universe all over again... wah wah wah....

Jumping the Pond

Helllllllllllllllllllo friends. I've mustered what little strength is left within me to post the first of many photos and recollections from the great UK Extravaganza. We flew back into town on Friday--but the illness we'd held off the latter half of our trip struck with full force and I've been in bed 95% of the time since arriving home. (My mom told me I've blogged about little besides my health lately; sorry!) My bags are still fully packed and sitting on my floor where I dropped them, but I'm committed to sharing the joy that was our fabulous trip!

Here's a lil preview of the trip in a photo essay entitled: Nat Attack Jumps Across the Pond.

Aren't you kind of amazed at the sweet hops I have?

Stay tuned! Much much much (overwhelmingly much on all fronts) more to come.

Lucky Charms

Today is the day.

And it has been a dramatic twenty-four hours. T minus two hours until I leave work and meet up with my girlfriends at the airport. This trip has been a LONG time coming. With all the chaos in my life this last month it kind of snuck up on me!

I have a nasty habit of hating the wardrobe choices I make on vacation. Deciding to break the habit, it took me more than two hours to pack last night as I had to try everything on and piece my outfits together. Hopefully it will all pay off in the end. Many a frantic phone call was exchanged last night regarding wardrobe selection. What kind of bottoms are you taking? What about coats? Boots? Ireland and England are typically rainy places, right? Wrong. Our forecast is for partly cloudy skies and sun the whole week we're there. Mid 40's to low 50's. Perfection...

I finally got to use my backpack my parents got for my 24th birthday. Whoop. And for Europe to boot. Yay. We are trying to carry-on all our luggage; the jury's out on whether or not they'll let me carry it on. They *could*, but considering I'll also be carrying my LeSportsac and the dreaded crutches, I have a feeling I'll be a flashing red light that screams "trying to break every flight rule we have." Then again, I'm crippled; maybe they'll be nice to me.

Side note: going through airports on crutches is quite the ordeal. As if walking a million miles to the Southwest gates isn't enough (I don't really need a wheelchair, though people are pretty good about asking); going through security is a PAIN. I mean, does anyone really think a leg cast is a good place to put a bomb? I have to get the full swab down test when I go through the detectors--hands, boot, pants... I certainly look like a terrorist, and they make me feel like one. End side note.

So today has been a doozy of a day. I'm back in the office (day 2); I thought I should put some face time in before I jump the pond. I've frantically been trying to do all the server-based work I've stored up in the past 4 weeks. I'm waiting on my boss to send me something, so I had my first breather of the day. No time for lunch; instead I had some cashews and a 100-cal Chips Ahoy snack. Can't wait to hit the CVS on the way to the airport for my last real American meal.

So here's the big drama. I'm going overseas without a credit card. Before you get up on my cyberspace, it's not my fault. It's the moron who tried to do fraudulent activity on my account last week, causing the whole thing to get shut down. I really thought it would come in the mail before now. Ky has been home waiting for the mail to come -- as today was the last day for it's arrival to save my life. Sadly, no dice. Ahhhh! When it rains, it pours!

So. I'm going overseas in less than two hours. I'm SO excited. Really, it's finally hit me. Six months of waiting, and I'm practically on my way! So off I go.... Killer outfit on, some questionable 72-hour kit food inclusions, a ream of confirmation print-outs (flight, hotel, car, train, hostel, Wicked tix), three left shoes, two crutches, and no credit card.

Give 'Er the Boot

Now it's time....
......... to say good-bye....
...to all our company....

The big day finally came. Doctor's appointment numero tres. My wish came true! The doctor gave the go-ahead to remove my (2nd) hard cast.

Let's discuss the rotary saw here for a minute. Talk about scary. I'd already had one removed, but it's a little disconcerting to have a high-powered squealing saw that close to an oh-so-important appendage. The ankle part is the worst! It literally feels like the blade is going to cut right through. Ahhh! Scary. I really wanted to video the cast removal, but abstained....

Here's my Mary-Kate leg. Check out that sweet jaundice stain. Why don't people get tattoos that look like jaundice? Maybe I should start a trend...

For the record, I will not give you the gory details on how man-hairy my leg was, or the depth of unsloughed skin residing on 17% of my body surface area. Suffice it to say, the way bodies take care of themselves is pretty amazing. And cleanly.

While I was in Portland, I pretty much ate whatever I wanted. Really. I was pretty sure I'd gain back the quick 10 I'd lost once back from the Christmas holiday. That was my full expectation anyway. Wrong. I'm down even mas. Too bad I'm not losing fat, I'm actually losing body mass. Well, it might be the only way I'll ever get a celebrity leg.

A few of you have commented to me about how good breaking your leg sounds. I do paint a pretty fun picture, don't I? Eat what you want, work from home, wear pajamas every day all day, snack on imported food, get chauffered around... Well, just remember this. I'll be taking crutches to Europe. Boo.

So here it is, the big 'ole boot. Do you miss my cute lil black cast? I admit... I kind of do. LOOK at that beast! Mary Kate became Rosie O! Put her on the Biggest Loser! TRON! ROBOCOP! DUCK-BILLED PLATYPUS!

My left foot just looks so little now, doesn't it?

So I've been slaving away on a presentation for a work blah-blah. My presentation was today (went well, yay!) but I was awake late into the night working on it. And when I say late into the night, I mean 4AM. Then, when my brain wouldn't shut off, I turned my computer back on at 4:30 to jot down some of the stuff my brain wouldn't let me purge. A few minutes later, the computer was off, but sleep still wasn't coming. I was adamant about not turning my computer back on, so I reached over in the dark and wrote "DVD/Collateral Distribution" so I wouldn't forget. No joke, I fell asleep with everything you see on this bed. (And by "fell asleep, I mean rolled around from 5-7:30am). Six pillows, Jason/Heidi's wedding announcement, an anke brace, a resistance band, a phone, two remote controls, health insurance paperwork, employment contract, my external harddrive, an empty waterbottle, and who knows what else. Good thing I never roll around in the night--I wake up in the same position I fall asleep. It's convenient.

This morning I learned what pouring rain in Boston looks like, that my walking boot is not waterproof, Staples doesn't make copies all that fast, and I need a nap.

Posts on little sleep are kind of worthless. Give them the boot. (And Blogger for not spell checking.)

In Haste

• I'm a bad blogger. I keep promising things and then don't follow through. If you broke your leg, I think you'd understand where my lack of doing anything comes from.
• Believe it or not, I actually feel bad about not blogging. I know how much I love reading blogs, and am always sad when my favorites aren't updated frequently.
• This isn't to say that my blog is one of your favorites--it might be one you read just because, or feel obligated to read, or hate reading and can't stop... I cover all three of those categories in my own personal blog reading.
• Did you know Monday's are statistically the highest read days?
• I'm back in Boston. Portland is a 13 day memory now. I can't BELIEVE how fast it went.
• When you're handicapped and going home to rest and recuperate, packing is a breeze. Here's what I took: one pair of jeans, one normal shirt, three t-shirts, three sweats/shorts, two shoes; both lefts.
• I had to borrow all "normal" clothes from Mallory. This included a sweatshirt, a church shirt, and a normal shirt.
• While I was in PDX, my parents went to Vegas for three days. Mallory and I enjoyed a fine dining experience while they were away--frozen pizza, Taco Bell, and Costco. And the most divine light mint cookies and cream ice cream (American Idol brand? Strange.) that we ate for lunch and afternoon and evening snacks. There was much sorrow when we finished it off.
• The Pats lost, Mitt withdrew... last week was kind of a rough week for Boston.
• On my flight home Saturday, the plane I started on eventually ended up in Manchester, New Hampshire. It stopped twice in Salt Lake (bittersweet to stop but not get off!) and Baltimore... but I never got off the plane. The flight crew and I became good friends.
• Some old guy was experiencing heart attack like symptoms and of course the screaming toddler sat in front of me. The Salt Lake to Baltimore leg wasn't exactly my favorite. Sadly, it was also the longest portion.
• The base of my toes (the front part you can see) are bruised. I'm going to the doctor tomorrow to have my cast removed... I'm kind of excited to see the canvas of colored bruising going on below the surface.
• There's a chance I'll get into a soft cast tomorrow. Shoot every good thought my way huh?
• GOING TO IRELAND IN FOUR DAYS. FOUR DAYS. FOUR DAYS.
• The Celtics beat the Spurs last night. Without KG. Ohhhhhhhhh I'm so happy. I MUST purchase a Rondo shirt. In fact, I'll consider it a Valetine's Day gift to myself.
• I made some pretty sweet Valentines while I was home. In traditional fashion, I'll post them on the actual day for your viewing pleasure.
• If you think your life is a disaster, check this: I have outstanding car insurance issues, health insurance issues, tax issues, work issues, presentation issues, overseas issues, stolen credit card issues, no credit card for an overseas trip, lost Celtics tickets, a whopper of a messy room, can't drive, and have a Mary-Kate leg. Seriously, I think it might snap when the cast comes off.
• I'm kind of obsessed with the Paramore album "Riot!" right now. It's spunky.
• I'm still sleeping with the burlap-wrapped cinderblock.
• Wow, wouldn't that be an awesome nickname to give someone? I've created quite a few classic nicknames in my day (Billy Goat's Gruff, Translucent Brother, the Giver), but that might could take the cake. I'll try to meat someone to bestow the BWCB nickname to.
• I finally joined the 21st century and am the proud owner of a laptop. Best $400 I ever spent.
• FOUR DAYS!
• My taxes are finished and e-filed. Waiting for the money to start raining my way....
• Did I mention the Celtics beat both the Spurs and the Mavs without KG?
• I have a tendency to be the relationship-carrier. I realized it doesn't have to be a burden I must be responsible for--maybe I just got tired of one-sided friendships. Just a head's up if you're feeling neglected.
• It's supposed to be high-40's when we're in Ireland with LIMITED RAIN. It's looking mostly cloudy and even some sunny days! Talk about a miracle...
• I guess it's like 7 degrees outside in Boston right now. I just wouldn't know. I'm still on my bed, in my jams, working from home.
• I haven't been into the office in 3+ weeks. I'm hoping to go in on Thursday though... it will be the 4-week anniversary. Crazy!
• When I was in ortland, I went to Mallory's first rugby game in the freezing pouring rain. Holy crap! Those girls are tough. There was face bleeding and tackling... I know a few of Mal's friends on the team and it just seems so backward; the girls (including Mal) are typically soft-spoken and polite... it's NUTS to see them out there bone crushing strangers.
• If I had three wishes, I might could be convinced to use one wish on never having to go to the bathroom.
• Watched the Grammy's last night. I can't help but love love love awards shows. Or the big four (Grammy's, Emmy's, Oscar's, GG's.). They're long and boring, but I love them. I love the fashion mostly... and some of the musical performances last night were awesome. Though I was super annoyed when the Beehived Boozer kept winning awards.
• These bullets are steadily going downhill. I think it's because I have to go to the bathroom and I'm feeling rushed.
• Blogger won't let me spell check. You're getting the original version. Lo siento.
• Sorry to be so long between posts... I'll try to throw up more often.

Time to Give Back

I'm only kind of tired of not blogging. Are you tired of me not blogging? Are you casting a beam or striking a mote? Casting a stone or pillaring in salt? But that's neither here nor there and my biblical allusions are only sub-par.

I don't have anything of substance to write. Instead, I'm going to let you give back and entertain me. In 33 words or less, write me a paragraph, sentence, phrase, or story, that uses the words license, unfortunately, responsibility, and consciously. (If you remember, these are the words I can't spell.)

Once all entries are in, a vote will be conducted on this very blog. A fantastic prize will be mailed or delivered to the winner. Prize will vary based on the winner--but I do pay up. (Ask Stephanie, I mailed the $5 from my last interactive contest.) I may even come up with awards or prizes for any who play. Good thing I make the rules.

*You have until close of day Thursday.
**If you're feeling pressure to perform--just remember; I feel this every time I blog.

Making Philo T Proud

For those of you who don't know, I'm in Portland. Oregon. Not Maine. (It wouldn't be so confusing, but since Maine is so close to Massachusetts, people in Boston often times get confused. They should then remember that not that many people are from Maine, it's a good chance I'm not either. But I digress.) I've been here almost 48-hours resting and letting my leg bone stitch back together. Today is day 2 of 9.

I've had a super grand time lounging around; working 3-4 hours a day, napping, reading, watching movies, chit-chatting with my parents and Mallory. It's been the ideal situation. The word "perfect" would come to mind, but the writer's strike and lack of quality evening television programming is throwing a damper on the situation (though the writer's strike would be occurring at my Boston abode as well, so that's not really Portland's fault now, is it? Struck from the record.).

The ease with which I transition so easily into the Writer's Strike discussion is the source material for which the blog originates. I love TV. If you know me, you know that. Some relationships I have with people were forged early and easily by watching the same shows. (They have escalated into larger-scale friendships now, whoop.) I'm kind of a TV guru; I enjoy being in the know. Other people have their music (heck, most everyone has music besides me), but TV/Movie industry is my love and passion.

My mom knows this about me. Today, she timidly asked if she could pose an honest question; not judging me by my answer, but just out of curiosity. I complied, and she asked, "Do most people your age watch as much TV as you do?"

I thought honestly, and answered honestly. "Not really," I said, "I'm on the higher end. But it's surprising how much discussion of TV happens."

Not five minutes later, (I'd been online and chatting with friends in New York, Boston, and Dallas) the following conversations occur simultaneously.



I may watch a lot of TV--but you'd better believe it gives me something to talk about.

Confession no. 44

Tonight, I'm alternating channels between the Florida primary results and Hannah Montana.

I kind of like that Miley Cyrus.

A tip

Don't throw away single socks whose mate has disappeared. You just never know when they'll come in handy.

Can you handle the truth?

The Explanation:

On Facebook, there exists an application that provides hours of entertainment for cripples and non-cripples alike. Called Compare People, that's just about what you do. An algorithm spits up two of your friends and you choose which one better fits the question asked. The combinations of people and questions is sometimes ironic, hilarious, or snore-bore. It's all totally random.

The Setup:

None of the questions the program asks are negative in connotation--no "Who could stand to shower more often?" or "Who would you vote off the universe?" exist. I don't think it's a stretch however, for the mortal, logical mind to view a "loss" (even to a somewhat deserving opponent) as actually a backward way of saying "Oh, so and so isn't that thing." In the photo example above, say I choose to live with Mallory (sorry Mich, blood is thicker than water!). It's not that I don't want to live with Michele, it's just that I choose Mal as the better option. It's nothing personal against Michele; I just choose the slightly better option.

The Kick(er) in the Pants:

This in turn makes checking your own stats nine parts fun, one part disconcerting. Here's the nine parts fun--in the times my photo has come up for review, I've "won" 100% of the votes for: more creative, artistic, popular, would I rather take shopping, loyal, a better laugh, more adventurous, prettier, more cuddly, a better body, more useful, better singer, more likely to win in a fight, crazier, more reliable, nicer, more talkative. Pretty awesome, right? Who wouldn't want to be all those things eh? Based on the 100 percenters, I'm a rockstar.

So there I am, reading through my glowing list of wins. There are some 66% (more tech-savvy, better friend, better public speaker) and 50% (better dancer, more powerful, famous, confident, entertaining) wins here and there and I'm still hanging in there, riding the glow of my 100%s.

Then, scanning the list, I find my first goose egg. Would make a better mother. Ha! I really did laugh outloud. My f-book friends unanimously voted me 0% less likely to be a better mother. Totally random and strange. Want to hear my other zero percents? Drum roll puh-leeeeeeeze: rather date, sexier, more attractive, prettier eyes, rather have dinner with, smells nicer, a better smile, more likely to succeed, better listener, more outgoing, more naturally talented, cooler, funnier, more trustworthy, better at science. Phew! Uhhhh... it makes me nervous that a good chunk of the things on my 0% list are physical traits.

Ironic, because before now, I would have considered myself as someone who looks good on paper--educated, good job, socially-ept, full head of hair... but now I'm not so sure. Phew! Remember what I said about that one part disconcerting!?

ALright friends, I'm off to review a science book I just bought on Amazon. Gotta rack up some votes somewhere; that seems like the easiest place to start.

Gimme a break, gimme a break

I bet yall have been wondering what I'm doing now that I'm confined to a plaster prison. It's been reeaaaaaaaaly exciting people, I tell you what. Last week I promised to be a more frequent blogger; then trauma-rama ensues and I should have allllll the time in the world to blog! (As a very unlikely reader pointed out via chat yesterday.) The only problem is, there just isn't that much to blog about when you're in bed for seven days. Nonetheless, I promised to be a better blogger, so here goes.

In the past seven days, I have....

• gone outside four times--I hear it's freezing cold in Boston. I wouldn't know. The few times I've been outside have been for transportation purposes only.
• showered thrice--I have a shower bag. It's good that I have impeccable one-leg balance as I rest my leg on the tub wall and try my hardest to get all the shampoo out of my hair. My left leg is super tired after a shower. Turning is tricky, and dangerous. As is entering and exiting the tub. And crutching on one wet foot. Showers are a neccesary high drama event.
• existed solely on imported food. Last night Julie brought groceries, made tacos, and left me with bananas (my good leg needs to potassium!), yogurt, cheese, rainbow sherbet (by request), and Diet Coke. Before that, it was a Joe's salad (and subsequent leftovers), a 41 ounce bag of Skittles (that's right, you read 41oz.), and a box of Hot Tamales. I know what I like, and apparently others do too.
• had a weekend getaway. I was literally kidnapped by some lovely, thoughtful, wonderful girls in my ward to come spend Sunday after church and Monday with them. We laughed, lounged around, studied, worked, and ate more chips and Skittles (it took a bunch of us awhile to eat that many Skittles) than you can imagine. It was wonderful, and I cried when I got back to my own house.
• put on a bra maybe once. Oh that's right, when I went to church. And for the record, no photo of the Gucci fannypack exists, but maybe I'll recreate the outfit later so you can check it out.
• literally had my blood boil. My inner temperature has permanently risen. I'm always warm. I sleep with a fan on, the door to the non-heated screen porch open, and one cotton blanket. I'm in my room wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, no socks, and am smart enough to realize that's probably not normal given the actual temperature in my room.
• learned that sleep positions can be changed. You think you're only a side sleeper, or a back sleeper. I guarantee if you had a ten pound cinderblock wrapped in melted burlap sleeping with you, you'd learn to adjust too.
• talked to myself quite a bit. I'm alone enough, it's bound to happen. But in all actuality, it's not chit-chat, but usually happens when I'm on my crutches; motivation or warning to take it slow and easy. "Okay-okay-okay-okay-okay-okay-okay-okay." That's when I'm slowly sitting, readjusting my leg, or trying to prop up my crutches.
• gone over my text limit (1000) and am close to my minute cap. Too many calls to work, insurance, doctor, staffing service, family, etc. Luckily, I roll on Saturday. Apologies if I don't return your text (I'm pretty good about emailing instead); it's nothing personal. I've so appreciated everyone's thoughtful comments and checking-in-ness. It's keeping me sane. I still have 952 picture messages; go ahead and keep those babies coming.
• been hooked up (technologically speaking). You well know my computer has been on the fritz since April. Kirsti, in an act inspired from up above, sent me home with her laptop so I could continue to work from home. In addition to bringing physical sustenance, Julie came and routed a hard line to our wireless router so my Internet connection doesn't cut in and out.

As much as I can get down about the situation--stress about work, traveling, commuting, finances, insurance, cleanliness, I realize I'm being blessed. There are plenty of people looking out for me--who call to check in daily, who email, who IM, who are genuinely concerned with how I'm doing. There are about four girls who are going above and beyond the call of friendship at this point--I'm sure you know who you are, and I sincerely thank you.

For the rest of you! Thanks for your comments, emails, calls, and even thoughts of well wishing! I have a long way to go, but I'm hoping I'm past the worst of it. Enjoy your independent mobility! Your ease in going to the bathroom! Your text messaging and minute plans! Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!

the maiden voyage

I WORE THE GUCCI FANNYPACK TO CHURCH TODAY.

What, I needed a purse but had no hands. I was already sporting the ultimate accessory (crutches), was I really going to make it worse?

Crutches make me say bad words

Surprise! My leg is busted. Fractured. Broken. Can you believe that? WHO breaks their leg? Kids jumping from trees and idiots on trampolines. That boy in your 2nd grade class. Claudia in book #10 of The Babysitter's Club. Remember when you were a kid and secretly wanted a cast? Or a broken bone? Or when crutches used to be a toy?

What a mess. This is me in the doctor's office when I got the news. (In a stroke of good luck, I also got pink eye the night of the break, hence the glizzasses.)

So now I'm a cripple on crutches trying to figure out what on earth I'm going to do and how I'm going to get around. How I'm going to work, how I'm going to keep the bone from snapping and needing surgery, how to prevent blood clots and how I'm going to navigate the exceptionally steep and uneven stairs to our 2nd story dwelling. Hell, how I'm going to navigate the two-bus commute in good weather, let alone snow, rain, or ice. Long story short, I'm in trouble.

I try not to be too melancholy on this blog, so I'll keep it light. After I was rushed from one doctor's office to another (they were closing and I needed casting STAT!) by my personal chauffeur Whitney, I chatted with the Ortho doctor. Six weeks is the guess, I'm holding my breath for a walking cast in 4 for Ireland. Hold your breath with me, huh people?

As the nurse came in to wrap my wound, I asked if I could take photos for my blog. This is how dedicated I am to you people. I promised not to take photos of her but of the process only. I told her yall would be very happy. Not much explanation is needed...

Now I'm home. I have two positions at home; leg elevated in bed, and leg elevated at the computer. It's pretty dull and rather boring.

Saturday was broken up with visits from Linda, Peggy & Rachel, and a dinner drop-off (my favorite salad from Joe's, woot!) from Laura, and numerous calls, texts, and facebook wishes.

Today is Sunday and I had some lovely helpers (Kirsti and Esther) come pick me up during Sunday School for Sacrament Meeting. I've spent the afternoon lounging at their house eating nacho cheese, baked goods from the cute girls next door and talking about love, live and the pursuit of happiness. It's buoyed my spirits tremendously.

BIG decisions to be made in the next few days. As soon as the holiday is over the calls to work, the doctor, the staffing service, the insurance people, and everyone in between can begin.

I used to claim that there were two activities that always brought out the swearing--bowling and ping-pong. I now officially add using crutches to the list.

Accommodating the Cripple

Word has spread surprisingly fast about my latest adventure. I kind of feel like I'm living in the UES from GG. Calls, texts, chats, wall posts, emails--I must have told a few well-connected people.

In case you haven't heard, yesterday I fell victim to the lamest sounding injury of all time. I finally slipped on ice, and hurt my ankle. Just the description hardly warrants any sympathy, right? I mean really; it seems so sissy. However, to my credit (and for anyone who cares), I didn't just slip and fall down, I slipped and fell down five stairs and then hit the ground.

I was showered, dressed, outfitted with food, gym clothes and my bus pass walking out the door when I fell victim to the worst set of front steps you've ever seen. (Funniest comment goes to my sister Mal for the email comment, "Man I wish people knew how to use a level.") I'm not sure how I hauled myself up the 30 stairs to our second-story dwelling, but it was a must I guess.

It hurt(s). But I won't give superfluous description of the pain. You think you know, but you have no idea. Blah blah blah. Sadly, it doesn't seem to be an ankle issue as the swelling is on my actual leg. It seems I'm having a tendon/ligament/snore bore issue. I'm going to the doctor shortly (thanks in advance for the ride Whit!) probably to get the BOOT! Oh the boot. How fashion forward of me.

Yes, I'm icing and elevating. No I haven't changed my clothes. My bed is wet because the ice keeps melting. Dangerous Minds (thanks On Demand!) is kind of after-school specially. I wonder if it was "hood" in the early 90's. I think the streets are more dangerous now. Brenda bailed me out with a 64ouncer of DC and two extra bags of ice (can't refreeze it fast enough), flowers from RachelMtz in exchange for my FNL Season I (yup, still spreading the love), computer usage so I can "work from home" courtesy of Ky, an Ireland planning meeting moved to my bedroom, and my Gram calling daily for the update. Thanks for accommodating the cripple.

My leg is wet and I need a shower. Happy long weekend everyone!

"Ireland, I'm coming home..."

So I'm not any part Irish. But the title is a shout-out to the song that's consistantly made me smile for awhile now. I always loved the Garth song, but it's taken on new meaning since we purchased our Ireland getaway more than five months ago. I blogged about that song back then, I'm blogging about it now. It's pretty much the only somewhat tangible reminder I have of our impeding trip.

The one month countdown began yesterday. With the inevitable freak-out of "ohmygosh, it's coming so soon, can you believe it? can you? can you?" comes the freak-out of "sweet mercy, we're hopping the pond in less than a month and have slim to little figured out."

Julie and I had a little pow-wow at lunch and I came away from our rendezvous with several action items. You see, Ju, Mary, Esther and I are getting together tomorrow night to enjoy merriment, watch an Irish-based movie, and discuss all things trip related.

But back to the informational action items I was to research. Are you prepared to be bored? (I promised to blog more, I never promised they'd be worth reading.) It's a good thing I know how to handle the Internet. How did people do anything before Al Gore came around?

• Distance from the airport to the hotel: 42.2 km; 44 minutes driving
• Irish electricity: 230v/50hz; 3 square pins. Adapter required; not sure if hotel has hair dryer.
• Cash--Euro vs. Pound: conversion; where, how much to carry/bring
• London transportation from airport to hostel: Gatwick Express train, 30 minute trip, runs every 15-minutes. Running a 4-for-2 special right now--meaning we travel for half price. Geez, it's ridiculous how much I love the Internet.
• London hostel research: reviewed dozens of hostels based on price, review, location, amenities, and have nearly locked-down on a pretty nice looking place right near Hyde Park and Notting Hill.
• Also researched: Bike rental, local pub info, pool(!) hours, and what constitutes an Irish Breakfast

That was this afternoon's research. Tomorrow's meeting we'll nail down our itinerary, lobby for sides in the luggage check vs. carry-on debate, discuss the wardrobe situation, and any and all other things related to taking a week-long vacation abroad.

This is what being a logistical stressball is all about.

They like me! They really like me!

Last night, at 7:39:02 PM EST, my 50,000th page load was recorded by a visitor in Bellevue, Washington.

In the limited time I had, I commissioned an online-contest to create a photo tailored for this historic event. Users of the world wide web responded, and I chose a winning photo.

The children of the world thank you dear readers. Here's to the next major milestone!

Resolution Uno

I’ve been kind of a bad blogger lately. And by lately I mean Q4. My front page still has posts from October visible. October! Gone are the 5-posts a week; replaced by one or two recap posts. Snore bore. I’ve let you down, I’ve let me down, and most importantly I’ve let Big Brother down. Seriously, how will the government know what I’m plotting if I don’t keep my cyberspace self up to date? BLACKBRIAR!

So I’m behind on my blogging. I vow to be better. The winter months are where blogging formats have to get creative—nothing is happening socially, so there’ll be less recapping and more random wanderings of a somewhat disjointed mind. Huh. Maybe I should rename my blog. “Random Wanderings of a Somewhat Disjointed Mind.” It’s not very catchy, is it? In all actuality, if I were the kind to rename my blog (which I kind of wish I could be, but I need some consistency in my life), I’d rename to “Honest to Blog.” (One of the few times I laughed out loud at Juno. Don’t hate me for not loving that movie.) But no renaming here.

I haven’t done a year end post yet. I want to, and I will. I posted before that 2007 was my best year yet, I want the recap for my own sake if no one else’s. I’ll get on that soon. Lucky for me, my year anniversary of living in Boston is rapidly approaching, so I’ll do that recap in place of an actual 2007 (or a hybrid of the two, who knows? The world is an oyster and it’s at my feet).

As predicted, the BIG ONE HIT. Okay, not really that big, but another Nor’easter passed through Boston last night. We had 60 degree weather last week (no joke! it was warmer on the 4th of January than on the 4th of July) and it’s ended now with a merry dusting of six inches of snow. (Speaking of merry, I think it’s time for us to take down our Christmas decorations.) Schools all over the state were preemptively closed, including my boss’ day care. He’s working from home means I’m working from home. What what. I’m still in my pajamas at 2:35 in the pm. I need a telecommuting job, I’m telling you what.

Saturday night I discovered the “Free Movies” section of On Demand. I enjoyed a “Sleepless in Seattle” viewing. It made me remember the days when Meg Ryan was more cute than cynical, and Tom Hanks was still just an ordinary guy. Oh wait, he still is.

Last week I made it official. I’m now a Massachusetts resident—and my car now has boring mass plates. (Get it? Get it?) Getting to the DMV was kind of high drama. All my car “rules” expired at the same time—so coming back from the holiday meant I was driving with expired registration, expired insurance, illegal state license, and illegal state plates (UT) don’t match the license state (AZ) that don’t match the state the vehicle is operated in (MA). If pulled over, I was looking at $1000+ in tickets. I know, I check. Did I mention it was high drama?

I guess that’s it for now. I could keep wracking my brain for things to write about, but what on earth would I write about tomorrow?

Confession #6

I have nothing to blog about. I'm usually better at making it work but this week I just don't have the creativity. All my energies are being devoted to my New Year's resolutions apparently. Sorry team.

On...

Dressing for success: I'm a jeans girl. I live and breathe denim. I breathe trouser-cut, boot-cut, slim fit, dressy, casual... they each have their time and place. My office has no formal dress-code, but the majority of employees dress business casual. Any given day however, 30 percent of employees are wearing jeans. Though it seems I could wear jeans every day and it not be too much of an issue, I try to wear non-denim dress pants twice a week. Last week, in the dim light of dawn, I threw on a pair of camel-colored corduroy trousers. You might have thought my first mistake was wearing camel-colored anything. Half a point. Full points to anyone who has also experienced the most self-esteem effecting textile in history. Every ear on my floor could hear me coming.

The Writer's Strike: I'm beginning to make irrational decision with my DVR. Now that the everlasting strike has halted production on all but a smattering of my favorite shows (bless FNL for having five, count 'em five, episodes left), I'm making hasty and questionable recording decisions. Do you hear me four episodes of Saved by the Bell? True Hollywood Story : Mean Girls? America's Next Top Model has been on MTV nonstop for six days now. I maybe recorded all of Cycle 2 and just finished watching. Drat that Eva. Before you know it I'll be recording reruns of Family Matters and Antique Roadshow.

Eating healthy: How trashy is it to love a Lean Pocket? It's not very classy, that's for sure. In an effort to detox post-holidays, I've been sustaining myself with fresh produce and frozen entrees. God bless Lean Cusines--heaven knows I'd never cook something so "elaborate" for myself. The frozen meal extravaganza has confirmed that I'll eat anything cheesy with marinara sauce.

To-Do Lists: After avoiding all adult responsibilities for the last few months, I've compiled my most daunting To Do ASAP list in history. Some items are easy 10-minuters. Some are exceptionally complicated. Some are costly. (Sounds like I'm describing relationships, huh?) Unfortunately, all are well past due and need immediate attention. Here's the short list: get a passport, buy a bus pass, decide on car insurance, meet with the agent in person, get the sign of approval, go to DMV and get car registered in Mass, get a Mass. license, call insurance and figure out vision insurance, schedule/attend eye appointment, order contacts, pay December bills, budget January bills, get front axle in car fixed, get cash, and kick the stuffy, congested face I picked up this morning. Phew. Being an adult is awesome.

Contract Work: My division was sold in early December to another company. The Feds are going to investigate the legalities for 4-6 months and then chances are exceptionally high I'm going to lose my job. I'm not super stressed because I don't love the highly technical aspect of what I'm doing--I'd like to get back to my project management roots; that's where I excel. My big idea is to have enough money saved that as soon as the axe falls I'm ready to take a trip. Overseas. Not sure where, but I'm planning to do something last minute and take advantage of the time I'll have. I'm hoping someone wants to quit their job and run away for a short time. Any takers?

White noise: This summer I owned an AC unit. Believing it was too heavy to move 20-feet, I left it on the sunporch instead of ever installing it. I sweltered through the heat of a Northeastern summer with a $9 box fan from Target. Somewhere along the way the fan stopped actually blowing air. It still makes a heck of a lot of noise though, that's for sure. It became habit to turn the fan on (I'm pretty sure it didn't work for months and I didn't notice), and I still do to this day. I've found that I like the noise--it's comforting and drowns out the radiator. (Side note: very few things make me as irrationally angry as the pops and hissing of my radiator. I get SO mad; it kind of cracks me up.) I love my white noise maker.

Being clever: I had a really interesting discussion yesterday with someone I adore. We were talking about the power of words, and the impact they have. It seems there's a huge desire to be clever these days--but clever so often crosses into mean. For a lot of people, being clever comes at the cost of kindness. It might be funny, but it doesn't mean it's nice. It was a good reminder for me. I apologize to any or all if I've overstepped the line at anytime.

Words I can't spell: license, unfortunately, responsibility, consciously

The Northwest, The Southwest, and South of the Border

My time off the grid was longer than anticipated. Am I the last one to post any kind of Christmas update? Yes. I've read the updates from coast to coast. I'm so far behind in the posting, most bloggers have posted their year in review, New Year's shenanegans, or pled for accountability on the goals they've set for 2008. I'm about three weeks behind. (Here's hoping I get those things blogged too.)

It's taken me so long to post on my Christmas vacation due to the sheer volume of photos taken--my hard drive (thanks Santa!) has Christmas photos from seven family member cameras. That's 1500 photos to sort through. It's overwhelming to look at them, let alone take the time and sort, choose, and upload to Blogger. (But really readers, has anyone figured out a faster easier way to post a ton of photos? Clue me in!)

If I were writing this post the day after (like I do with most recaps), I'd waste time giving you the nitty gritty details. Why do I do that? A good chunk of you don't even know me, let alone care who drove in whose car, or whose burrito didn't have onions. Oye. So. This blog will NOT be split into a Portland, Phoenix, Mexico section. I'm going to let you do critical analysis on your own.

And so it begins....



Rachel made a list of her favorite moments from the trip. To her list, I add some of my favorite memories: "Acting natural" in the lounging photos on the beach chairs; having the Mexican cooks come in to feed us every night--I'd about die to have some more of that bacon-wrapped shrimp; the fascination with the babies, watching the hundreds of photos every night on the TV (I've told many of you friends that we do this on vacation, here's the proof!); my continued streak of terrible posing; rehashing some of Pierre's choicer phrases.



I've blogged before about being a double cousin. Eight of us, two sets of parents, but all identical genes. Yeah, it still sounds funny to say it that way. The last time the 8 of our photo was taken was 2.5 years ago, here's the update.


The only reason this picture is so large is to show you how incredible the scenery/landscaping is and how well the shot is set up. My sister Alaina does an amazing job--check out her business blog.

Everyone and their sister did a jumping shot or two--check them out on this Mexican Christmas recap post.

More fun memories: the activities Gram planned so no one would get "bored"--a treasure hunt, felt ornament beading, and a late night (6pm) glow stick rave; running after cars and waving when people are leaving, seeing dolphins with Grandpa and Alaina (I'm not only good at whale watching), and watching all the Grandmas (3!) take care of everyone else.




During the sunlight hours, this is what we do in Mexico. Sometimes we'd go to town, but most of our waking hours were spent in this location drinking Vita (sugar-laden Mexican soda that creates the funkiest/most vivid dreams), and debating whether the longest part of the "day" was in the late afternoon waiting for the cooks to come or at night when it was cold and dark and we had to be inside.


After the babies and the 9-year-old owner of the Wii went to bed, the tennis tournaments began. Most of us are actual players, so it was fun to duke it out in the virtual world when we were mostly equals. Rachel and my Williams/Williams took down Babb/Babb, Nielsen/Nielsen and any other combination of Williams/Williams put together. But really, it was all in good fun--and a good way for the 3rd generation to bond.


There were several "not planned to be funny" activities that were perhaps the highlight of the trip, and they turned out a little different than planned--including the Diet Coke/Mentos rocket launch and fallout, the kids fort to trap the "bad mexicans" ("It almost trapped some good mexicans! so I know it's going to work!" --PR) and the great White Elephant Movie/Music/Book exchange. You can't imagine what kind of multimedia treats there were. The best gift was "The Italian Job"--until Rachel stole it and we discovered it's a NYC knock-off. I had to leave my 1994 Olympic highlight VHS at the house in Mexico because no one wanted to cart it back across the border.

I love vacation. I love my family. The two are always a genius combination. Coming back to reality is always a bummer--especially considering it's -5 in Boston and I was in my bathing suit less than a week ago. Sigh.

It's taken me 2.5 hours to write this blog and I'm ending it before something tragic happens.