Thursday, July 31, 2008
I just turned to my friend, Monica, and said, "I think I'll stop blogging".
And she said, "What! Why?" and I told her "because it is serving no purpose". Let me explain.
I wanted to keep a blog so that I could chronicle these first few years of marriage with G. Like many of you, I wanted to bind it into a book someday for my kids & family to look at. It was my form of journaling (I SUCK at keeping a journal, which is odd, because I love to write). Anyways, can you imagine if your parents had kept a blog when they were newlyweds? And being able to read it as an adult? Unreal. I would DIE for the chance to see what they were up to at my age...What they thought, felt, did, who they were, etc...
That's why I started blogging.
But, now I feel torn for a few reasons. First of all, I feel like I am BORING EVERYONE TO DEATH when I write about our day-to-day activities. I want to keep track of what we are up to (for the journaling aspect of it all), but I honestly get embarrassed posting about what we did that weekend, because honestly, it is so boring (Honestly, I am being HONEST -I need to stop using that word). So, I feel pressure to only post about stuff that is interesting (or at least not completely UN-interesting) which means I rarely post about "What We Did This Weekend". So is it a journal? Not quite.
And also, I get nervous about saying too much & giving too many details, because I don't want some creeper to read about us & know things they shouldn't. And then I have to remind myself that like 4 people read this blog, anyways, but still, I wonder about that sometimes.
Also, I am a worrier. And I always worry that everything I write and everything I say is going to offend someone. I live in fear of offending others. It is the number one thing I wish I could get over. For example, me saying that I think a post about how G & I sat at home last weekend and played with our dogs is boring, will probably offend someone. So, I think to myself that I probably shouldn't say that. It is a vicious cycle.
Anyways, I am just wondering if this blog is really serving it's purpose? Maybe I should just start writing in my journal more, & let my chilies (chilies = my word for children) read that someday. At least then I won't have to worry about holding anything back. Or maybe, I should just make my blog private?
I am probably not making any sense right now. This is one of those boring posts that I write & really should not post. But oh well, I think I will post it. What are your thoughts about blogging? Is it serving it's purpose?
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
In the past, when we have ventured to Lake Powell, we’ve usually stayed on our houseboat, “Rainbow Sunrise” (yah, I know, what a name!), but occasionally we opt out of “roughing it” and lodge at the Ticaboo hotel instead. My family and I lovingly refer to the Ticaboo lodge as hotel “take-a-poo” And that pretty much sums up the kind of town Ticaboo is. Nonetheless, the people are friendly, the showers are sort of clean, the tumble weed tumbles, and the sandwiches are to-die-for.
Unfortunately, due to his work schedule, husband G couldn't’t join us, so I shared a room with Ryan, Christy and K sweetheart. One morning, before any of us had woken up, we heard a knock on the door of our hotel room. Let me first explain that I can be a less-than-friendly person before the hour of 7:00 am. And although I try not to be, saying I am SORT OF a night owl is like saying my dog, Jack, SORT OF likes to lick faces.
So, when a dangerous physcopath began knocking on our door in the wee hours of the morning, I was too tired to take action & simply ignored it. The knocking, however, was soon replaced by the sound of someone OPENING THE DOOR AND COMING INTO THE ROOM and in that moment, every irrational nightmare I have had in the last year suddenly rushed into my brain as I tried to un-glue my body from the bed & look for a weapon. A weapon, a weapon, what could be used as a weapon? And I have to save the young pups. They are too small to fend for themselves. How will I shield them as I fight with my weapon? Should I hide them in the closest first? What if they bark too loudly and give away their position? I'll need to arm them with a weapon of their own....
Wait, this is Ticaboo. And my pups are home with G. And I am insane.
I am not kidding. This is how my brain works when you wake me up too early. Just let me sleep.
K sweetheart, of course, remained calm & left me to freak out on my own, to simply go see who was at the door. He was confused to see someone open it, peek inside and then close it again, but his severe morning brain prevented him from actually DOING ANYTHING, so he simply turned to me and muttered something about “my worse nightmare” at the door with a gun or maybe it was a broom, and crawled back in bed. Minutes later, the door opened again…and then closed…and then opened…and then closed. And by this time, the night owl in me was getting annoyed. I peeled my eyelids open and stumbled to the door to fight off the intruder. This was my moment. My one chance in life to be brave, and I was ready to accept the challenge. I made it to the battle ground & threw it open the door, ready to attack, only to find the complete opposite of my worst nightmare staring back at me.
An old, tiny, frail woman looked up at me as curiously as I looked down on her. We both stood there for a moment, facing off across the door way, when I finally managed to put together a coherent sentence.
“Did you need something?”
The tiny woman looked up at me and said with a heavy accent, “No, I vas jus checking if you needed something.”
Hmmm. The sun hasn't come up yet. And I am in my hotel room. At the Ticaboo lodge. Do I need anything? No, no, I think I'm good. K, Do you need anything? How about a warm towel or a TV guide, either of those float your boat?
I must be dreaming.
But I wasn't. So I told her that, No, we didn't need anything, and if she could kindly venture back to her room & stop knocking on our door, it would be greatly appreciated. Thanks, cutie Mc cute face.
And this is the kind of stuff that happens to us in Lake Powell.
Lake Powell. Where the weather is so hot, it melts everyone’s brains into a liquidity goo that slides down your legs and squishes into your shoes. I could spend hours telling you stories of the things that have happened to us not only in Ticaboo & Lake Powell, but on our way to and from the lake. Stories about bats in our hotel room, and rats in the restaurants, and food poisoning and gas poisoning and speeding tickets. Stories about a broken arm and strep of the fingers and stitches in the middle of the night, Ryan's cut off finger and several trips to the emergency room. Storms so big we had to tie everything down and the night we loaded everything from our boat to the houseboat in complete darkness. Stories about jumping off cliffs and the rat my brother shot with a shotgun and wilber the duck who visited me every morning. Cartwheels down a mountain, a hot tub and a volleyball court that we built in the sand and the millions of shooting stars that I watched dance across the sky.
I’ll miss you 'Big Margy'. Thanks for the last 12 yrs.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
So, I am altering this a bit. What I will do, Carlye, is post 8 random facts about G & I and our courtship/marriage. Or maybe just facts about Greg, I don't know, we shall see how it goes.
Moving right along...
1. The first time G & I spoke in person, the conversation lasted 3 hours. We were standing in the Exit Realty parking lot, against my car.
2. The first time we ever spoke on the phone, it lasted all night. Literally. Until like 4 in the morning. (This conversation happened the night of the 3 hour parking lot conversation-I can't believe we didn't run out of things to say).
3. The first time we went on a group date (with Andy & Jenny) we went to see 'Fun with Dick & Jane' and we talked so much, I couldn't have told you one thing that happened in that movie.
4. The first time we ever hung out alone, I didn't come home until 4:30 in the morning. I tried to sneak in, but my Mom caught me. They weren't too pleased to hear that I'd been with
"some 25 year old" all night. I was 18 and my curfew was midnight. Yikes. (for the record, it was my bad, not G's...he tried to make me leave. You can't reason with a girl in love)
5. Greg's proposal was a complete surprise. I had no clue, up until the point when he began to bend down on one knee. I didn't really understand what he was doing and I held on to him tighter, maker it hard for him to bend down!
6. I wasn't nervous at all the night before our wedding. I slept like a baby. This is odd, considering I get nervous for everything and usually have a hard time sleeping through the night on regular days!
7. G's good friend, Joe, told him that he thought Greg would marry me before Greg had even met me. Joe had met me and he said "he could just tell that we would be perfect for each other". He wasn't the only one who felt this way. We had lots of co-workers tell us that they thought we would like each other and should go on a date. I was very intimated by him, though, and he knew how young I was, so we kind of avoided each other. Up until the 3 hour parking lot conversation (more like 'the conversation that changed my life')
8. Besides telling a few people, we kept our relationship a secret while we were both still working at Exit. We tried to be all sly and not let anyone know. It was a BLAST.
And that's a little bit more about how we came to be.
As usuall, I am going to tag anyone who wants to play. If you're low on blog material, post 8 random facts about yourself, or your spouse, or you dog...whatever floats your boat. Thanks Carlye, it was fun remembering what it was like to fall in love with my husband.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
While telling me about a conversation with one guy at work, he informed me that this guy's wife had been complaining because every time she presented him with a problem, all he cared about was finding a solution, not listening to her drawn-out rants and raves.
G gave him fabulous advice when he said, "All they want you to do is listen. You don't have to fix it or even offer to fix it, they don't want a solution. Just sit there and get mad when she gets mad, nod your head and agree with everything she says".
First of all, don't you love how we are referred to as "they"? "They"-the other gender, the unknowns, those people who make no sense...Anyways, he said all of the women around him were practically cheering when they heard this. (Isn't it SO true?)
Then, the friend complained that his pregnant wife got mad when he responded to her comment of "I feel fat and ugly" with "Well, you are pregnant".
G told me that he informed the guy that this was the worst possible answer ever and the correct response to 90% of what women say is always, "No babe, you're beautiful".
I do have to say that he does practice what he preaches. G's response to almost every complaint I ever have is always, "No babe, you're beautiful"
J: "I had a rough day at work"
G: "No Babe, you're beautiful"
J: "I failed this exam"
G: "No Babe, you're beautiful"
J: "Please pick up your mountain of receipts"
G: "No Babe, you're beautiful"
Obviously, I've taught him well.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Eventually, I found myself wanting to write less about the festivities and more about how lucky I feel to have such an awesome family to hang out with. I LOVE being with both the Olsens and the Moffitts and this weekend was no exception. Many of you know (but some of you may not have yet experienced it) that I am an extremely silly person. Sometimes, too silly, and this weekend was nothing but silliness. Our families bring out that side of me-the person who wants to giggle and play and skip down the hall, instead of walk. I always feel most alive after a good, hearty laughing session and for that reason, this weekend with the fam left me feeling refreshed.
So, I guess what I really want to say is that I am grateful.
I am grateful to have lounged by the pool with a good book and felt the sun on my face. I am grateful to have swung on the swing set in the dark air and to have to have layed in the cool grass under the exploding fireworks. I am grateful to have felt my new niece turn flips in Christy's belly and to have ridden in the back of Andy's car with the windows down and the music blaring.
But mostly, I am grateful for the people I did it all with. I am grateful for their advice and understanding. I am grateful for late night pranks & never-ending laughter. I am grateful for their friendship and shared enthusiasm for life.
I am grateful they are mine.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Captured by yours truly.
A huge amazing prize goes to anyone who can correctly guess what is happening in this picture.
And oh ya, I went to Midway this weekend. With the fam. But let's just talk about that later, can we? I need to go prepare myself for the Bachelorette finale.
And yes, as Kiersti pointed out (and in case you haven't already noticed), I am a HUGE nerd/loser. Anyone who isn't fond of nerds/losers can kindly navigate away from my page, because trust me friends, it only gets worse from here. Seriously. If you don't believe me, just wait for me to post the many videos I made this weekend (Kiersti you will DIE).
It only gets worse from here.