We're back from California! We had so much fun with our family. We hung out in Lancaster. It was full of father son car time, mother daughter sewing talk and delicious food made by a very talented mom. We were beach bums three days in a row getting mouthfuls of salty water, boogey boarding in a foggy mist, collecting shells with a curious toddler, and building sand castles and sand bathtubs inevitably destroyed by the great Bryn. And of course we had fun family time, lounging in the pool, playing poker and catching up on good times.
I was absolutely terrible at taking pictures, I literally have one picture from the entire trip, but my sister in law was way better at documenting the event. For some pics click here.
Ooh ooh and we saw Inception and now I think my dreams are constantly being invaded. Last night I was climbing the Appalachian mountains and I new Leonardo was in a white suit ready to corrupt my thoughts. How was your week?
When Wendy and her little brothers discovered that they could fly the chills went down my spine and I knew that magic was real. But then, slowly but surely my belief in magic began to disappear. There was no Santa Claus (sorry for ruining the surprise Mom),only Brother Pearson dressed in an over sized worn down suit with a white beard probably made of grandmother wigs. There was no flying (established after I hit the ground after jumping off of my bed). Pokemon weren't even real, my life was ruined.
For a long time there was no place for magic in my life. Life was real, and hard. So hard that I even had to make my bed when I woke up and feed my smelly dog Molly. One time I even had to walk to school when my mom couldn't drive me. Man I had it rough.
And then one day my family of seven packed into what seemed to be a 50 seater van (bed in the back included) and we headed on vacation. What was this v-word and what did it have to do with my life. I soon discovered that vacations were the time that magic always existed. We always ended up at theme parks with my favorite Disney characters, or beaches with skies that never ended, hotels where you never had to clean up after yourself and pools where nobody cared if you weren't old enough to be in the hot tubs (man I felt cool in hot tubs).
And to this day there is magic in my world. I get to pack up, leave my 9-5 desk and Dell computer, leave cooking and cleaning and Partay.
Bring on the Magic Cali!
The movies have become the modern day community water hole. You come to see the most obscure creatures come from their dark abyss and bless you with their presence. Me and Sir Matt only attend the dollar theater because we're cheap college students and this is where the magic happens my friends. The children of the obscure and the creatures' friends from the dark abyss come out to play. Some of my recent experiences...
1. Both me and Sir Matt have found that Utah citizens are cheese balls. They'll laugh louder and harder at any movie joke. While it can be entertaining if THEY were the movie it's not so fun when you're watching another movie (comment made for the woman screeching behind me in my left ear)
2. Little kids are the finest of the entertainment in any movie situation. While watching Iron Man 2 a little boy screamed, "GOODBYE IRON MAN!!!!" as Tony Stark flew into the night sky.
3. There's always someone right when the movie starts standing up and waving their arms with a nonchalant, "HEY WE'RE OVER HERE insert name". Is this okay at a baseball game sure, a boxing match I get it, when the lights are dimmed in the theater and the funny previews are running-not so much.
4. The cell phone users. We don't want to see your light saber looking phones buzzing/ringing/glowing. Need I say more.
5. The leaner. There's always someone leaning just a little too close to you and using your arm rest. As much as I enjoy the feeling of your arm hairs on my elbow...please scoot over just a bit.
6. The screamer. It's okay to scream at the part where the murder grabs the persons leg from under a car, or the zombie is about to reach the little girl but there's always a scream that comes at the calm part of the scary movie. Boy goes in for a kiss *GUT WRENCHING SCREAM* the couple looks at each other longingly. I don't get it.
I love the movie theater but unlike others I don't go there for the experience. I go there because I can't watch the movie at home yet.
Any traumatizing movie experiences? I'm here for ya.
Whenever I dated boys I was a total watcher. I'd watch them through their windows at night (not true just seeing if you were paying attention). I always wanted to see how they would react in certain situations. I guess it was my way of deeming them knightly or...un knightly? If there's anything that can bring out the worst in someone and make someone go from enchanting to utter troll face it is the black road of despair (also known as driving to civilized creatures). It's the worst because everyone thinks that everyone on the road is an idiot...except for themselves. This includes myself I must say. I'm a pretty nice person but when I get on the road I'm a bit aggressive, okay I'm a crazy face.
1. Whenever someone cuts me off or turns in front of me quickly I speed up to make it look like they're cut off/turn was worse than it was.
2. If someone ends up turning but doesn't have a blinker on and I was waiting for them I say a smug, "Thanks for the signal poopy head." (You may not use the word poopy head this is my personal favorite but you might substitute it for words like jerk or troll face or bug eater.
3. If someone isn't paying attention when the light turns green my face turns red.
4. If one of them hoodlums is weaving around cars like their in Nascar I speed up so they can't get around me.
5. If I'm ever behind or sandwiched by semi's I grunt in despair and speed up to get as far away as possible from them.
6. If I'm behind a car while it's driving in neighborhoods eerily slowly searching for a specific place, I go around them.
I cut people off, sometimes I don't see green lights in time, sometimes I get lost, sometimes I turn really slow, sometimes I take turns too hard or dips to slow. Sometimes I hit people...okay I don't do that I hit people,cars,animals, bikers and more people mostly (joking about accidents is never funny).
Am I crazy? Are we all just terrible drivers or am I making the world a worse place?
I was sitting there licking brownie batter off of my fingers when I realized a rather revealing and demoralizing truth. I would probably lick brownie batter off of anyone or anythings fingers. I like brownie batter that much. Then again maybe I just like doing out of the ordinary things that much. Bringing me to a dreadful story...
Me and my 4 sisters are well...CRAZY LOCO! If you get us together in a room we get this loud hispanic laugh going and we just can't control it. Needless to say we often talk about and do ridiculous things. Okay mostly I do ridiculous things while my sisters laugh at me. I would never have done any of these things if it weren't for my loud laughing and utterly insane sisters.
1. After discussing how large my tongue really is with my sister (it's like KISS on crack people) I talked about the many things I've licked with my utterly monstrosity of a tongue. My sister said and I quote," You've never licked the bottom of my left foot." To which I tackled her to the ground and immediately licked her dirt covered, nasty trash stepping on foot (Michelle has the dirtiest feet of all the sisters in the land). I immediately regretted this however because it tasted like a waste of my time.
2. Mooning my youngest (and most traumatized) sister at 5:55 on 5/05/2005. I don't want to talk about it.
3. Putting on a toddlers clown costume while my sisters chased me around the house wearing vampire capes and warewolf masks, only to end the entire fiasco with a rendition of a Moulin Rouge song sung in a very manly yet chipmunk like way.
4. Making Dance Fest 2005 music videos and encouraging my little (and most traumatized) sister to wear nothing but two flowers made of poster board. Don't deny it, we still have video footage.
5. Peeing my pants on the floor while begging my sister to stop making me laugh. Yet to my surprise she just kept dancing and telling me I was just like Molly our dog who pees on the carpet.
I think that's about enough traumatizing information the dear followers can handle for one day.
Thanks for the crazy and well.....crazy times my sisters.
You guys remember the viscious bishopbric of the 9,865th ward from this post? Sit down, grab a pillow children. This ranting might go on for a while.
One day myself and my dear boss whom I love, we shall refer to her as dear, were cleaning out her office. After cleaning her office dear appeared at my desk with two gloriously shining bottles of Brick Oven Root Beer. Now let me make one thing clear. Brick Oven Root Beer is unlike any beer of the root. No No my friends, this fine beverage is brewed in the restaurant and has a sweet tang of success as the bubbles slide down your throat. I don't like root beer and man I like this stuff. So after salivating after the two bottles of root beer dear boss nonchalantly asked if I would like them to which I answered a cool, "Uh, sure". Success! I had obtained a fine drink and now I needed to make a plan. Matt loves drinks and so in protection of both myself and his belly I decided to only take one bottle home and leave one bottle on my desk for another special occasion.
The night with the root of beer was glorious. Matt and I wined and dined like we were in NY about to see a Broadway show. Then suddenly and without warning our deer root beer was gone. Without fear or hesitation I declared, "Don't worry there's another bottle at work!" And me and Matt had dreams of root beer fairies brewing our soon to be devoured bottle.
I arrived at work ready to take my fine friend home for another night of drinks when to my surprise the root of beer had left. I looked right, I looked left...I even looked under my desk like maybe during the night the janitor thought this root beer should not be on the desk no it should be cleverly placed in a nook under Sarah's desk. But I found no Root Beer.
Right away I knew the culprit. It's the Rice Krispie stealing pencil using Dutch bishopbric of the 9,865th Ward! All the sudden a cloud of ideas began to brew over my head. I could see the bald first counselor with his high waters, chugging my Root Beer straight from the bottle as he counted tithing. I saw the bishop with his feet on my desk counseling a member as he took a drink of my Root Beer from a mug. I would have my vengeance I thought. They'll learn their lesson. And I began to come up with ideas of how justice could be restored to the world again. While brewing (pun totally intended) in my dark thoughts with a bitter scowl on my face my dear boss poked her head in with a nonchalant, " Sarah, I hope you don't mind. I saw you didn't take the Root Beer home so I took it." I smiled knowing that I was a fool but that the bishopbric was still Dutch.
I feel like out of all creatures big and small the grasshopper is the rudest. Spiders have the courtesy to creep up on you, while stunning at times they make slight movements to warn you, lady bugs are always welcome because their so darn cute, rolly pollies just saunter around until you pick them up and catepillars never bother you at all but just eat your plants when you're away. Okay all creatures can be bothersome, but the long legged beast is rude.
The way grasshoppers just burst your personal space bubble and drop right next to your arm tickling your arm hairs is without a doubt just a violation of personal rights. I suppose this thought may be due to the fact that I've never had a good image of grasshoppers. The grasshopper in A Bugs Life ruined all the Ants lives. Those poor little Ants couldn't even get enough food to feed their young ones. The grasshopper in James and the Giant Peach used his legs as an instrument (a far too advanced concept for a wee tot to grasp without feeling weirded out).
So today I was eating my lunch, basking in the glory of the sun with a giant peach in hand and at a threat to my personal rights the long legged beast bursts my personal bubble with a springy plop. Because my only experience with grasshoppers has been through animation I deduced that this grasshopper was THE grasshopper from James and the Giant Peach and was merely trying to board his living vessel. Out of fear I scarfed down the peach at my fastest chomping rate and threw the core on the ground (I do this every time because I know a peach tree will grow) and ran away.
I now have regrets and wish to speak to Sir Grasshopper.
I'm sorry I deprived you of your home however you really gave me a fright. You shouldn't go invading peoples personal space.
As you can see I'm full of regret.