All around the world, statues crumble for me

Best. Trip. Ever.

Seriously, it might have been. And one I'd like to document, so saddle up, because I think there's going to be an outpouring of words here pretty shortly. Basically, I just spent 10 days laughing--and it didn't help the sights were great, the food superb, and the language barrier funny. Ironically, the Spanish we did know earned us kisses and perks from all kinds of strangers. I'm not going to lie, we were kind of celebrities on board.

I got home last night and forced myself to unpack and do laundry before I even sat down. Wise, because I would have fallen asleep for the night at 3pm instead of the 5:30pm I held out for. When I woke at 6 this morning fully awake. I stayed in bed only because I had nothing else to do. Wowza. That's a first.

While I attempt to get some work caught up and my words organized, I'll leave you with a little sneak peek at the last ten days of adventure:

Until then, au revoir!

the closest cut

Growing up, I was the one who packed a bag for vacation weeks in advance. (I'm looking at you Girl's Camp 1996 and '97.) Now, my life is unpredictable enough that despite my best efforts--and nerdy To Do lists--I'm sitting on my bed, working from home, on a conference call, surrounded by stacks of clothing not in a suitcase, and headed out of the country for ten days in less than two hours. And I need a shower. And have another hour conference call. BUT NO STRESS GUYS.

I went to Kansas last weekend to visit Alicia and it was one of my funnest weekend trips in years and years. How quickly five years melted away and I remembered why we consider ourselves sisterly. Sure, we've each got our own--but boy howdy do we get along well. We talked nonstop for three days and I refound some center before being thrown back into the storm of wild work projects. We shopped baby clothes (she's having a girl and I'm getting a nephew(!!?!) and talked baby names. The greatest lesson I learned this week is HOW GLAD I AM NOT TO BE NAMING ANOTHER HUMAN. Good luck ladies.

So I'm headed on a little trip tonight. Flying to Amsterdam and cruising to Barcelona. That means ports in Brugge, Belgium; Normandy, France, Vigo, Spain and a ferry to Isla Cies; Lisbon, Portugal; THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR; and then into Barcelona. I told you I love a cruise. The biggest stresser is making contingency plans with my gal pal Laura to meet in the Amsterdam airport, or at the port, or in Brugge should one of us get displaced by flights. Hurricane Earl, I shake my fist at you!

So, I guess I might have a photo or two to share when I come back. If I ever get there in the first place.

welcome back?

I'd like to say that I have day after day of silent entry in a journal not recorded here.

I don't.

The silver lining is that the silence written in the last month of non-blogging will long serve as ample reminder to the events occurring in my offline life. You wouldn't believe the sum of the parts. When the best of the worst is literally getting a needle-full of steroids shot into the face nine times I'm best to leave it alone. Sad (and somewhat lame) to say, but ignoring my blog was one of the only things I could control.

(sad trombone, right?)

Where my life as an individual has spun out in the last 5 weeks, I've been surrounded by a support system that's kept me afloat. It's true that blood is thicker than water, but there is no blood in this East Coast water. It's been heartening to watch the people I share space with help me rally--providing kind words, check-ins or emails of encouragement. I've grown closer to my roommate, to my home teachers, to those I serve on committee with. I've been privy to a sense of community with the LDS members in Boston as I've helped clean both the Temple and our Stake Center and committed myself to more frequently attending and serving in the Temple. I was able to attend the sealing of a dear friend and enjoy reuniting with so many good friends. The culture of my office is shifting to one I genuinely look forward to entering each day even with major changes afoot. Weekends have been spent with friends at Martha's Vineyard, at the beach, attending concerts, going dancing, and playing games. To put it mildly, I've been busy.

You may not know this, but I spend a lot of time alone. I don't mind it one bit--in fact I probably enjoy it too much. That's the truth and I've copped to always being honest. It's not that I'm out to prove my independence, I just don't mind being by myself. As cliched as it sounds, I've learned so very much about myself this last month. It hasn't been easy or kind but who doesn't have patches of black ice surprise them every now and then? However, looking at my interactions with the people around me this month, I find them extraordinary. Individually, I would have failed. Collectively, I'm more than treading water--I'm making my way upstream again.

There are innumerable lessons to draw from the experience I'm dancing around writing about--both good and bad--but I still feel 100 percent confident in my decision to stay in Boston. I have no where else to go nor do I want to go any where else.

And that's a good life indeed.

in short

The moral of the story is you'd have a post to read if I hadn't just spent 42 minutes reading my own blog.

I reread the 30-posts in 36 30-days I did back in April. It seemed to stretch on forever, but I think that was some of the best writing I've done to date. Perhaps having a topic to rally around helps me focus my thoughts better. I'm considering another list but lack the topics. Start spinning your wheels for me.

Then go over to my Formspring account and shoot a question or a phrase/comment/topic you'd like addressed. Now I'll quit being bossy and go back to being good-intentions-to-write-but-with-limited-follow-through.

Using a pool hall to explain my life

One of you sasspot readers asked me if I'd quit answering questions after promising to do so. Well played sasspot, well played. However, the question is a valid one as I have an inbox of questions nearly two months old. (Including one about kissing! But I haven't formed an appropriate response yet, but it's hilarious, so stay tuned.) Tonight, I roll forward and answer the following question:

If you were to take a paid sabbatical, and could spend 6 months anywhere, where would you go?

My answer begins at a pool hall on Friday night. I do not profess to be great at pool. Decent perhaps, but I'm not about the fleece anyone $20. I attribute my ability to pocket balls to the Wms. Family Reunion of 1999 where our lodge had a pool table and I didn't have much else to do. (I attribute my ability to appropriately pen pool references to all the books I read about the seedy under belly of urban cities.) During any game of pool, I have within me the ability to sink balls two at a time or make a run of the table. Sure, I can make people sweat--but I'm no true threat.

So it was Friday night. Playing well enough to arch an eyebrow every now and then and keeping myself from soul numbing embarrassment, I still lost the six games we played. (Besides the point. And yessssss, there is one.) However, during the course of our time at the pool hall, I explained that I was not super great at anything, but decently good at most everything. (Don't let the fact that I lost six games skew your opinion, I got sharked by a rich kid who grew up with a table in the house.)

So it is with my travel. (Finally, we've turned the corner.)

I'm just interested in GOING. I don't care to where, I don't care for how long, I just like to go.

When you travel, there are two kinds--invest and discover or hit it and quit it. I'm not a scholar well versed in Italian art. Nor am I endlessly fascinated by the religious uprising of the twelfth-century peasants in the region. This doesn't mean I haven't any interest in these things, it just means I have limited focus. I'd rather keep going and see more. Breadth over depth is my passion. It's not important to me to know the minutia of any one topic or place, but rather expose myself to the world in all it's vastness. (Does this make me shallow?!)

This all starts to make sense when you see my travel patterns; my love of cramming in as many cities, regions, and countries as possible. I have minimal plans to repeat vacation destinations. (It doesn't mean I won't, I just relish the thought of exploring something new.)

What would I do with a six month paid sabbatical cruise? (Found another corner!) Easy breezy. I'd go on a six month cruise of the world. All you could see, all you could take in, a cornucopia of visual and intellectual delights.

AND I LOVE A CRUISE. (more to come)

I'm Natalie, I'm a Project Manager

Nothing in my life but work these days. Why? Well the other project manager in my office is out getting married and my boss' wife's baby unexpectedly came early so they're both crazily out having Life Change Summer 2010 while I'm trying to keep it all together. (And mostly failing to be honest.)

In that work-y vein, I think you should please go read this post I wrote about what it means to be a Project Manager at an interactive agency (jigga-what?) and how it relates to the redesign of a very important website. I think you'll find it enlightening on how I spend my 50+ hours a week when I'm not entertaining (ha!) you here.

So I wish you all a happy weekend with maximum sun and limited bummer news.

O Canada

Back to the Real World is the name of today's game. In more crybaby ways than you can imagine, but none so important as the fact it's a 95-degree Boston summer day, and the AC is out on our floor. The 11th floor. And only our floor. We're insulated to some degree, but it's still a harsh reminder of how vacation is over.

Oh wow. And a vacation it was. Sixty-six hours door to door, and you won't believe all we did and everywhere we went in those 66 hours. I'm still processing all of it and will surely have more to say. How could I not? I basically spent 3 days in France by way of Canada.

Everything was supreme about our trip to Montreal, including the following:








We hiked, we ate, we danced, we told stories, we read, we made food, we drove (and drove [and drove]), we rode gondolas, we tried to learn French, we fell in love with the front desk reception girls, we photoed, we rode bikes, we lit sparklers on the deck, we talked about why we loved America, we swam, we played games... and more!

Now if it could just hurry up and long weekend again soon, that'd be great, thanks.

Where there's a will there's a wall

It always catches me by surprise when someone everyone makes reference to the fact I travel a lot. I mean, I wasn't always this way. A few years ago, I decided I was going to make it happen and, well... look where it got me. A few stamps in my passport and a lot of miles on my wheels. (I know, what? Sorry, it's 11:58pm on a Friday night. My ability to make correct metaphors is impaired.) When I booked a trip to Kansas City(!) in August(!!) to see Alicia(!!!) on the spur of the moment, I think I finally realized that it isn't all in people's heads.

My love of travel, my love of photos, and my tendency to start planning extravagant vacations when I'm feeling super stressed (true story) joined forces in decorating my bathroom. Not the greatest execution, but it gives me something to look at when I'm forever blow-drying my hair. I'm clearly behind in updating my photos (Buenos Aires y Mexico City, my loving apologies) but this is what I look at every day:

Rome, Barcelona, Ireland, London, Monaco, Paris, Mexico, Prague. It's a pretty fun where's where. But seeing this collage every day isn't really seeing it. In fact, I'd completely forgotten Montreal was on the list of "Wants" in the upper left.

Subliminally though, my brain knew what my eyes see multiple times a day. This is an alert to let you know I'm going off the grid for a few days, and the title of this coming long weekend trip shall be "Patriotic Party in America's Top Hat."

The Fourth of July is upon us. While I'm severely (and at times handicappingly) patriotic, the 4th also presents a long weekend for those of us not used to having a rigorous 4-day-a-week school schedule. Free time off! Warm weather! 3-day weekend! Good exchange rate!

That's right. I'm talking Canada. Nothing smacks of patriotism like taking our BBQ habits to the French Canadians.

I found a deal on a "200-acre mountain top domain with luxury mountain residences that offer breathtaking panoramic views with spacious balconies for your outdoor relaxation." (Do you think their copywriter gets paid by the syllable?) Condos with full kitchens!, wood-burning fireplaces!, outdoor BBQs!, heated pools!, hot tubs!, tennis!, surrounded by hiking, biking, outdoor curling and other natural Canadian forestry. Including Sasquatch. We play outside, we cook our own food, we light sparklers on the deck. Sounds like a win to me.

But who knows, maybe it'll be a giant bust and I should get more exclusive with the classy post-it notes. Maybe I'll learn my lesson and stay home for a change.

Quakers, Amish, and Mormons

I'm not sure why each of you come here to read my mind's wanderings. But I'll continue to spew content as my brain thinks it worthy enough to share. And as can clearly be evidenced below (Benji! Travis! Jacob! Edward!), the dumbest randomest thinks strike my brain every 2.8 seconds.

Awhile back, I wrote the first of several "Why I Believe" blogs about being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. (A Mormon.) A goodly number of you know all about Mormons (because you are one or know many who are), but I imagine there's a chunk of you who are a bit lost.

I'm happy to announce a side project of mine that I'm oh so very excited about:

http://www.TheDigitalMountains.com

There's so much garbage online about the LDS church. And not the kind that's nicely bagged each week and left on the curb for the garbageman, but an actual landfill of filth bursting at the proverbial internet seams. Where we're all allowed to believe what we want (God bless America!), you'll not find me engaging in any kind of rants or conversation written to incite conflict with people who don't believe similarly as I do.

There are so few places online to read what it's like to live, act, and worship as a Mormon. Feel free to join me and help open conversation to those who are genuinely seeking what being a Mormon is all about. Because if four years of this blog has proven, we're not Quakers, Amish, or people who lack personality, right?

.... RIGHT?!

chicken or the egg?

Discuss.

When life isn't rah! rah! rah!

I've felt somewhat adrift in the last year. A line item list could be provided as to the who, whats, and whys but that's a downer post and man, if you want that, believe me--you're bored already.

So life hasn't been nonstop rah! rah! rahs! the last year; but I also haven't been on the brink of epic meltdown either. Having flirted with periods of both, I'll staunchly endorse a plateau of steady, even days than the spikes of living in the extremes.

To lay it all out there in the name of honesty and transparency, I've been living selfishly. True, I wasn't actively making everything about me--but with so much time, talent, and resources--isn't doing nothing a passive form of selfishness? The parable in the Bible (someone want to help me out with a reference?) where three servants are given money and asked to use it, I've always wondered why the servant who held his money was punished. I'm learning.

I've been privy to some pretty incredible personal revelation in the last few weeks. Some of it I'll begin to share in the next little bit as the details are sorted out. For now, know that if you're wanting to make a change in your life--or realize you have rough corners that need sanding--I promise, promise, promise God will change your life and provide the sandpaper if you're willing to actually do the work.

Ebony and Ivory

Once upon a time, we all went to BYU. Now the first of us turned 30 and we celebrated at an all-out all-white (hold the irony) party in NYC.

Happy Birthday Jam. I think 30 is going to be a banner year for you.

Also? The growth spurt that left me nearly six feet tall has ended everywhere except my arms. They're now dragging on the floor when I walk. But the silver lining? I am one excellent dancer.

And I always raise the roof.

these are a few of my favorite things

So I took this photo when one of my girls wanted to know what I was wearing to the NBA Finals a few weeks ago. While posting a straight-up self-portrait that hasn't been seen since MySpace is definitely not one of my favorite things, I noticed something in looking at this photo. In a 500 by 500 pixel photo, I bet there are at least 50 of my favorite things to be seen.

So let's play a game. Sure, I could list all of them (and maybe have to start getting creative, but I really think there are 50 here), but I thought I'd crowd-source this post. You lurk on my life, so let's see what you really know about me.



I'll start. Feel free to continue in the comments section. (Bonus points to he or she who spots the most, ((quadruple points for any male who spots any)) or who gives the most creative response.)

1. See that necklace in the top right corner? My dad gave it to my mom in the 80's after they were married. I received it for Christmas two years ago. I looooooooove statement jewelery and old timey things.
2. That full length mirror is a skinny one. (Objects are actually larger than they appear.) Who doesn't love a skinny mirror?

Ready... set.... go....!

PS -- I'm working on some real content, I promise. Humor me (and yourselves) for the time being. Yes this feels self indulgent and I've considered (six times now) taking it down, but I'm the sheriff of these parts. And your readers have already picked this up so the train left the station.

Mormons in Business (CNBC)

Hi. Yes, I'm alive. Gathering the strength to return creating remarkable content to both stave off boredom from your work day and also to keep my personal history. Now isn't the moment to tackle the latter half of that quest, but rather to post an interesting news segment from CNBC about how serving a 2-year Mormon mission prepares missionaries to be successful international business leaders.

More than anything, I think it's a fascinating juxtaposition of two ideas. And it isn't often you see a neutral video. Take a look, it's worth it.



Believing n Mormon doctrine isn't a prerequisite to thinking what about this video?

The Death March

I went to Colorado last week and climbed 550 stories straight up a mountain. No switchbacks, no lazing about hiking -- just a steady incline that didn't quit. Already at 6500 feet above sea level, you must climb another 2000 before you can quit. Air. Thin. Can't. Breathe. Heart. Explode.

This, from a girl who can't stand the stair stepper.

In the old days, the Manitou Incline was used to support construction and then turned into a touristy scenic ride.
Today, the incline is used to train Olympians. Which makes sense, because you have to be fit to do this hike. If my stamina was any indication, it's like I never exercised in my whole life. To my credit, my legs never hurt--it was just my lungs that burned and wheezed. Katie was a dear and a good motivator; she was probably happy to have a leisurely stroll. The good news was that my recovery times were good; a quick break, some deep gulping breaths of air to recenter my lungs, and off we went again.

The trail is tended well with railroad cross beams you have no choice but to climb. One step, then another, then another. 2800 times. Two thousand, eight-hundred times. I worked with varying rhythms to see what worked best. Answer = anything that put me closer to the top. There were middle sections so steep I had to use my hands and half crawl -- and I'm quite tall! (Again, major ups to shorty Katie.)

Everyone on the trail was chatty and kind--we ran into several of Katie's coworkers from the Olympic Committee. I had to remind myself I work a desk job and to quit getting anxious for being slow. I FINISHED AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS, RIGHT?!

Someone wisely didn't forewarn that the run down the mile was 3.5 miles. I only would have stressed about having energy storage, but all the run entailed was picking up your feet and keeping your balance. Quite exhilarating actually! Check out this sweet elevation map I found. It kind of hurts to look at, but it's a good hurt.

Oh right, it's also illegal. So don't get hurt on your 550 story climb to the top. I won't lie when I tell you the biggest motivation to finishing was the Diet Coke promised post-hike. You know me, I'm an easy sell.

I guess I can see why Katie keeps going back. In hindsight, it seems pretty cool and I feel pretty freaking tough for doing something so insanely strenuous on ill-prepared lungs. Then I remember what it feels like to feel your heart beating in your brain and imploring Katie to tell my family I was thrilled to be on the other side should it be my turn to up and die.

So the next time you find yourself in Colorado Springs, try being as tough as me huh? That means no Diet Coke at the finish line.

I can see Canada from my house

Surprise! I'm in Detroit.

I travel so rarely for work so this last minute trip for a client pitch was somewhat unexpected, but I all but volunteered to go. I love traveling for work. Why? Let me count the reasons.

1. I love staying in hotel rooms by myself. It feels glamorous. I let the maid have a break and didn't even have my room cleaned today.
2. Chocolate cake via room service last night. Chocolate cake via PF Changs today. (Filled my yearly quota now thanks.)
3. I can see Canada from my hotel window. Apparently my Midwestern geography is crummy because I had no idea the border was so close. The next time I'm here, I'm definitely getting a car so I can drive to Canada.
4. Um, look who's staying at my hotel?
Well, I'm headed to Colorado Springs tomorrow for the long holiday weekend. I haven't had a camera for several months, but I'm sure Katie will take enough photos to share. Happy Memorial Day everyone.

It hasn't even rained that much this month

But somehow, I keep finding myself outside for 3+ hours at a time--hunkered down in pouring rain--visible breath, hair getting curly, undergarments growing damp.

visiting coworkers + crazy expensive seats supplied by work + fenway park = staying longer than would otherwise be considered sane. Still a wicked fun time.


Of course this morning shone sunny and bright. Projected 80 degrees.

do two halves make a whole?

Well now. I've officially run my second and final half marathon. Where last year was sunny skies and perfect weather, Mother Nature decided she'd compensate for last year's loveliness by testing the stamina and our will-to-live-ness with 45-degree weather and pouring rain.

The weather in the days leading up to the race was picturesque--both Mallory and I were planning to run in tank tops and shorts. But sometimes 'man plans and God laughs', so we found ourselves at Target the night before the race, trying to buy cold weather running gear. If I had a gratitude journal, I'd have a big ole star next to my $13-clearanced men's long-sleeve winter wicking shirt.

We set off at the crack of down and it rained the whole drive to New Hampshire. We fueled up on bagels and the rationalization that the sooner the race started, the sooner it would end, and the sooner we could see Iron Man 2 (in IMAX!).

Wonder of wonders, the rain stopped right as we parked to register for the race. We got our numbers, stood in a very long line to use the bathroom, and eventually made our way to the starting line.

In a cruel and appropriate twist of ironic fate, the rain started coming down 30 seconds before the race began. It would only get heavier as the minutes ticked and the miles dragged on. To pass time (no ipods for these Wms runners!) I alternated watching the water my shoes kicked up with each step and the cloud of steam each exhalation created.

The course is somewhat hilly--shockingly, our best miles were the rolling hills of miles 6-10. Go us! I'm pretty sure the man standing on top of his car, playing a ukulele and hula-hooping put a little pep in our step.

I won't lie, the last few miles were pretty rough. I'm sure a combination of cold joints, uneven pavement, and hypothermic onset due to wind chill played a part in our slower last few miles, but it's nothing I'll complain about. We set out to finish, and we did. I may have had to have someone else re-tie my shoe as my hands were blue and frozen, but by george--we finished!

If you do the math based on our finish time, you'll see that we clearly weren't in it to win it. And I know our time looks and seems slow--I've had to fight the urge from Day 1 of training to apologize for being slow. But here's the thing: I just don't care. If you've followed my journey (if we were watching Biggest Loser, I'd make you take a shot) at all, you know that my training two-years running has been somewhat of a reluctant one. I don't find joy in the running. I didn't last year, and I haven't discovered it this year. I think we can all agree now that I've given it an honest go.

Training for these halves has been somewhat of a metaphor for my life. In some kind of masochistic way, I've run these races to prove I can do anything I set my mind to. And what seems batship crazy and improbable eventually can become a reality. And you can still hate it, but you got to the finish line eventually.

And before this post veers off into Oprah levels of philosophic hoo-ha, I shall finish with the wise wisdom, that sometimes, all it takes is a great reward at the finish:

Mallory is a rockstar (and already planning for her next Half).

Also? I quit long distance running. Time to find somewhere else to bring the pain.

trust me, the ugly will be coming...

... because it poured freezing rain for 13.1 straight miles. Honest to goodness--it didn't rain one minute of time Mallory was here other than the few hours of the race.

More write-up will be coming about the race from hell once the official race photos come online. Because who doesn't want to see photos of us soaking wet, drenched to the bone, and puffing clouds of visible frosty breath?

For now, enjoy the pretty.

I often go walking through meadows of clover

To my beautiful mother, grandmothers, aunt-mothers, cousin-mothers, and the friend-mothers in my life--

You give me something to aspire to be. Because frankly, I don't know how to be anything but selfish. Maybe one day.

The pictures that follow are the most influential mothers in my life -- my own mom, her mom, my aunt, my dad's mom, and my sister-mom.


Maybe this year I'll get a house plant and take it for a test drive. Any one have suggestions on a plant that won't break my heart?

LAST CHANCE WORKOUT!!!!

So my running partner in crime arrived late last night. As a last ditch effort to ready our hearts for the strain of 13.1 miles in less than two days, we took a little run along the Charles River in the city. Three years here and I've never made the run -- so it was a memorable first.

I probably won't be winning any cinematography awards for this video, but it's pretty fun:

Luckily, due to lack of water and the neccesity of a bathroom, we weren't in danger of breaking the speed limit.

My favorite.

The lighting is a titch misleading in this one, but I test-drove the Gucci fannypack so we had a means to carry the camera and keys. It worked like a charm and I'll now be wearing it on Saturday so we can document our entire run.

The weather was perfect and we would have lovvvved to remain outside but we needed to take care of business. Our goal for Saturday's race is to take it one mile at a time. Stay tuned!

If you are what you eat... I'm in trouble.

An excellent user submitted question! Did you know there are other questions over there I'm answering? (Surprise!) I'm a publishing conglomerate now. Pretty soon I'll be putting the little guys out of business and Congress will have to appoint a committee and hold special hearings to shut me down.

You find out you have 24 hrs to live. What foods do you pound before you go?

Before I run through the laundry list of items I bet each of you could recite in your sleep. An anecdotal connection. ("Getting to know NatA!", page 1, para 1*)

My fall back topic for discussion when it's quiet and I'm interested or prompted enough to engage is to ask the person I'm passing time with, "If you could eat anything in the entire world, what would it be?"

Scores of people could attest that I say the exact same thing 99 percent of the time. What is that delightful goodie? Believe it or not, an item never once mentioned on this blog. Answer equals a warm, homemade** cinnamon roll.

But seriously, just think how much better the world would be if everyone could have a warm, cream-cheese laden cinnamon roll whenever they wanted one? Who would ever get angry? Or sad? Who would want to suicide bomb anything? I'm convinced cinnamon rolls could bring down Al Qaeda. (Blackbriar!) Life would totally be worth living.

On slim occasion (say 1 percent of the time) I deviate from the c-roll, but I always feel like I'm only telling a partial truth.

So. Circling back to the original question at hand. With 24 hours left to live, cinnamon rolls definitely on the list. Add in cinnamon bears, cinnamon toast crunch, and hot tamales.

Rolls from the Texas Roadhouse, a coffee cake muffin from Dunkin Donuts, baked Lays + french onion dip, chocolate coconut cupcake, pineapple cheeseball.

Burger and fries from The Precinct (pub next to our house), that salad with strawberries in it, SHRIMP, street meat tacos from Mexico City, chicken TBM from Cosi, homemade chocolate chip cookies. Brownies made from a boxed mix (the best and only way to eat them. sorry you purists)

Skittles, Starburst, Good 'N Plenties. Red vines, Nibs, Swedish Fish.

You know, just a few bites here and there of really classy things. Because you can't take it with you!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
* When I was in school and needing to create bibliographies, the internet was so new that there was no standard way to report what was found online. Every other kind of reference guide was firmly styled, but when it came to the WWW, total free for all. Has that been changed? Do the youth of today even know what a bibliography is? Or do they just attach a copy of the article they found online with the pieces they "borrowed" highlighted?

** I have a really easy quick-rise recipe for cinnamon rolls should anyone actually be interested.

it's a beautiful life

I can't get enough of watching this video. Stephanie is a gorgeous person inside and out and makes me guilty for ever complaining about the status of my life.

How can you not feel inspired after watching?

Kudos to the Church AV department for piecing together such a cinematographic wonder.

conditioning

If my 3rd grade study of human physiology remains correct, the body is said to be 70% water.

I, however, drink more Diet Coke than probably any one you know. Not hyperbole this time, just the facts. DC definitely makes up 70% of my body.

Elixir sanctioned by my own great-grandma: "Better a small glass of Diet Coke than a harsh word to a loved one."

If you haven't heard, a giant water line broke here in Boston on Saturday night, so thirty-three communities are under a "boil water for safety" issue as the emergency water running through the faucets is pulling from lakes and reservoirs and hasn't been fully treated. Showering in the water is fine, but keep your mouth closed or suffer the consequences.

PEOPLE. I'VE BEEN TRAINING MY WHOLE LIFE FOR THIS EVENT.

Drinking 8 parts Coke to 1 part water has come in exceptionally handy the last few days. Because Target, and the grocery store, and the pharmacies may be out of bottle water... but boy howdy is there enough Coke to go around. Consider this my own little slice of heaven.

Day 30

Last post of the everlasting 30-day blog challenge! 30 posts in 32 days still counts, right? I mean, one day of 4 and another day of 3 might count as spam in some states, but as I've said before and I'll say again, I'm the Sheriff of these parts.

Whatever tickles your fancy

And in this case, it's actually going to be your (the reader's) fancy. The Sheriff is the one who calls the shots, but Deputies do all kinds of important things like, um, er... ask questions!

http://www.formspring.me/TheNatFactor

Got a burning question you're dying to ask me anonymously? Curious and need follow-up on a previous post or story? Are super nosy and want to know where and when and with whom my first kiss was? (One blog reader is squirming nervously at this point.) Ask away.

To be honest, as crazy and long and neverending and sometimes kind of ridiculous post topics as the 30-day challenge was, it was kind of fun to take a topic and then weave a narrative around it. Your asking questions at the link above is an extension of that process. But with less fanfic and more embarrassing stories! 10 voters wanted me to return to the posts about nothing; so put your money where your mouth is. Or face citizen's arrest.