The bedroom on 7th

When I first moved to Salt Lake City I rented a house with 3 girls on 700 East, just between Trolley Square and Liberty Park. I loved the house (despite the alley parking that took off my sideview mirrors more than once). I planted tomatoes in the backyard in the summer. I had great roommates. One year on the day after Christmas I got snowed in there by myself. We had a tiny balcony from the upstairs and nice deck in the back. We had a sectional couch in the living room that no one knew where it was from. The keystone piece was missing a leg and rocked if sat on. I desperately miss that house whenever I ride by it.

I first moved into the small room upstairs, but within a few months, had found my way to the larger room downstairs. It was the coolest bedroom ever, and I regret not making the most of it then, but I was also, a full time worker and student and in a mad dating frenzy most of the time I lived there. It was kind of a 2-room deal, with a larger room in front and a partial wall to where my bed was in the back and some built-in shelving for my clothes. There was just enough room for my single bed, a 7-foot one that my parents lent me that had been my brothers. I had the bed on a 6-foot frame, so if someone sat on the bottom foot of the bed, the mattress would rise up. When I had friends come to visit, they could sleep on the floor in the larger portion of the room. Next to my bookshelves and CD collection.

But the point is that someday I'm going to design my own bedroom. And I would love to have the bed be kind of isolated like mine was. But I think the room would have to be huge because I like empty space too. I posted a while ago about the monochromatic look of this bedroom that I love. Today I saw an idea for a faux cottage door at the end of the bed that I loved too. Trying to decide if that would go okay with the platform bed I want. But if it was kept simple, I think it'd be really cool.

mysterious persons

Strangers that you happen to see repeatedly.

Like at the 2007 Sundance film fest the HB and I waited in a line forever to get into a midnight movie at the Egyptian in Park City. And we chatted up the guy next to us in line and it turned out he had parked at Kimball Junction but the shuttle back didn't run at 2 a.m. so we offered him a ride when the movie was over. And then we saw him like a month of so later at a play at the U of U and then a few months later at the Modest Mouse concert at UVSC.

And like a lady who used to run the call center I worked at in Missoula. When I moved to Salt Lake City I recognized her in the psycho singles ward I went to a few times before switching to one of the U's Institute wards. But I see her randomly all the time around town. And just recently during Sundance she came to see a show at the Rose Wagner and then a couple days later the HB and I saw her and some friends at the theater to see "There Will Be Blood."

Then there are those people that you sort of know that you happen to run into. I used to always run into my roommates ex-boyfriend at concerts, BYU games, etc.

It's kind of weird how people can move in similar circles and yet never know each other. But it's fascinating too how much we can always keep learning about the people we are around all of the time. And sometimes I wonder why we don't try harder to know people better.

Just some thoughts.

Panguitch dream

Last night I had a happy dream. Which is actually really rare. It wasn't over the top bubbly or anything like that, just kind of something I was okay with. Not like the dreams I usually have where I wake up crying or upset and Tyler has to ask me if I'm okay and confirm that I had a bad dream. And not disturbing like the one from the other night where a tropical vacation had underlying tones of tragedy, because somehow I knew the river/pool we were in was going to get sucked into the ground.

This dream was about us living in Panguitch. I've never actually visited the city in Utah in the dream, but I can imagine how it originated.

Last night we were watching a show on the Discovery Channel called "Bone Recovery" only when Caiden first told us to come in and check it out (because we'd left the TV on), Tyler and I both thought he said "Boner Covering," which was pretty funny. Caiden seldomly shows any interest in TV so we went to watch some of it with him. Some archaeologists were conducting a dig and it showed one of them analyzing the bone remains to determine cause of death, and also, reasons for the atypical body arrangement in the tomb. Tyler was telling him how I had gone on a dig.

I did my dig in the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. I have lots of stories about it, but the Panguitch tie-in is that my "crew" leader who worked for the Office of Public Archaeology had grown up in Panguitch, and it's not that far from Escalante. And he was really funny, would always get on the walkie-talkie and say things to the other "crew" leaders like--"Hey guys, I found a big-ash-stain right here. Looks like an ancient firepit," so he could take the opportunity to almost cuss.

So in the dream, we were living there and Tyler was coaching football at the high school there. And we seemed to like it. That's all there really was to it, just kind of a good feeling.

The Washing Machine Inside

Just as I was wrapping up Sundance I began to grow overwhelmingly obsessed with my belly. It seemed to have suddenly poked out so fast that I was convinced I'm having twins. My pants are starting to feel tight, and though I've barely gained a couple of pounds, the belly does seem to stick out more. All the better for belly fondling. Here's me trying to stick it out.

Yesterday Tyler came with me to meet my midwife. I can't think of another time in my life when someone ever went to the doctor with me. It was fun having him there and listening to the heartbeat, like a little washing machine inside of me, going 160 beats per minute. We only picked up one baby heartbeat so I'm probably in the clear regarding twins.

Sundance 2008 Part 2

Day 7 (Thursday): After a busy day at work, we have another fairly slow night at Sundance, despite the films having some big names in them. After the first show, an older gentleman comes up to talk to me. He tells me that he'd really like a McDonald's hamburger but he doesn't walk 3 blocks down the street. I recommend that he go to Squatters across the street and tell him the food is great, but it can be real busy. He tells me he doesn't drink, and I assure him he doesn't have to, the food is great. He comes back an hour or so later, in time for the next show. He thanks me for the recommendation and tells me that the food is great, and that he got escorted to the back room where there was a private party and didn't even have to pay for his dinner. This makes me feel great.

Day 8 (Friday): I have the night off for the festival and do very little. I'm exhausted so I take a nap when I get home, then eat some dinner and watch Pulp Fiction with the HB before I go back to bed again.

Day 9 (Saturday): I sleep in late and barely make it to my shift at the theater by 11. I bargain with the other manager to sit in the first movie, one I really wanted to see. We work it out. It's called "Incendiary" and has Michelle Williams and Ewan McGregor in it. I absolutely loved it. True it was kind of depressing, but even it was beautifully done. The story of a woman who loses her husband and son to a terrorist bombing at a soccer match in London and the aftermath. About 10 minutes before this movie was over I stood up to text the HB back and prepare for the patrons to exit. But momentarily I felt that all-too-familiar sensation that I was going to faint. And like vomitting, I thought I may be able to control it, to hold it back. I sank down to the floor and sat in the aisle leading to the box seats in the balcony. But everything was still going black and suddenly I was sweating everywhere. I think I laid down there for a minute, but kept telling myself I couldn't be there when they came out. I crawled up a few steps and was at the entrance to the regular balcony seating when I laid down again momentarily. Then I made it to the top of the balcony entrance and into the bathroom where I again laid on the floor. And after a minute there, I made it into a stall and sat on the seat for about 10 minutes, resting my head on the wall. I heard the patrons leaving the theater, and some come in and use the bathroom. I had my radio on and just wanted to let the volunteers know I'd be down soon to help out, but I was too exhausted. So I waited there until finally I could feel my body going back to normal. And I walked out and found a chair at the top of the stairs and sat there. Soon, Tyler and Caiden were there with some lunch for me and they helped me get down to the green room where I could take a break out of the public eye.

I soon felt better and resumed my duties. After my shift I stayed to watch the movie "Assassination of a High School President" with Bruce Willis and Mischa Barton. What made this movie great was a killer soundtrack (some Band of Horses songs), and good performances. Plus the director, writers, and some crew members came. Having the filmmakers come for a Q&A is really what makes the experience of seeing a festival movie. The director was so excited to finally have an audience watching his film rather than himself in a dark editing room. It was his first movie and he gave us some great insight into how he was able to get the deal.

Afterwards I headed over to my bro-in-laws to meet up with the HB and some of his family as they finished filming some scenes for his zombie movie. It was a late night.

Day 10 (Sunday): We had a big showing for the first film of the day, a Crosby Stills Nash & Young documentary-type. Other than that, an easy day for us as the festival winds down. Heard some reports from the awards party I didn't attend and finished up some paperwork. I got off at 4 and just enjoyed the rest of the day at home.

Day 11 (Monday): The festival is offically over, but tonight we'll be showing 3 'Best of Fest' screenings at the theater I'm at. Since my shift starts at 2, I took the whole day off work so I could relax a little more.

Me and the Naked Cowboy

Sundance 2008 Part 1

Day 1 (Friday): My shift starts at 2pm so I leave work around 1:30. I'll be there until midnight. It's the opening night Gala and will be very busy. Both showings are the same film--"The Great Buck Howard." For the first couple of hours, we're not sure what we're supposed to be doing. The movie begins at 6:30, the starts are supposed to show for the press line around 5:30. The governor to arrive at 6 pm. But there's already a few die-hards for the waitlist and we let them line up downstairs. Skip a few hours. Myself and the other volunteers do crowd control while we watch John Malkovich, Tom Hanks, Colin Hanks, and Adam Scott go through the press line and do some quick interviews. Malkovich has on a killer velour orange blazer type of jacket. And a green scarf. He can wear anything and be cool. The HB brings me some spaghetti with mizithra cheese and I sneak him into the second screening of the movie and he loves it.

Day 2 (Saturday): The HB and I watch the Animation Spotlight before my shift begins. They are great, my favorite is the first one, a sort of eerie stop-motion called "Madame Tutli-Putli." I head over to my theater for my shift 5-midnight. I see some friends from my day-job at the screenings. I get frustrated at volunteers that just want to watch the movies on their shift and not help out. I think I must be a really bad manager even though I always thought I was good with people. I say hi to a member of my former singles ward bishopbric who is there to see the movie "Good Dick." I think he was hiding from me at first, but he should know I'm not about to judge another person for their film choices, and from what I saw, it was a great movie.

Day 3 (Sunday): I bring the HB to watch "In Bruges" before my shift starts again at 5 until midnight. It's totally hilarious and full of obscene language. We love it.

Day 4 (Monday): I have the night off and decide to go see a show with some work friends. We see "What Just Happened?" and I"m not that impressed. Plus I can't stand it when movies end with the main character giving a quick run-down of subsequent events in the lives of the other characters. It seems really weak, like the ending wasn't good enough and the directors have an urge to sort of "wrap things up" more, even though the audience has no need. Just make a good ending.

Day 5 (Tuesday): Shift begins at 5, ends at midnight. One of the box office volunteers quit because she was offended by the nature of some of the films in the festival. It's our first slow night, the first screenings that we haven't completely packed every single seat of the theater.

Day 6 (Wednesday): I'm pretty exhausted at work. My baby is now the size of a lime and I'm 12 weeks along. I go to the Outdoor Retailer show at the Salt Palace during the day with my co-worker. I get my picture taken with the Naked Cowboy. After work I meet my sister, mom, little brother, and little sister at the Broadway for a documentary. It's called "Stranded" and is about the rugby team that crashed in the Andes mountains in the 1970's. My sister and I have read both the book "Alive" and "Miracle in the Andes" and are huge fans of the movie "Alive." We're excited to see real interviews of many of the survivors, but unfortunately don't get into the showing. Out waitlist numbers were 26-30 and they cut it off just before we could get in. I'm mad the movie was so popular that we couldn't get in. My first couple of years at Sundance I worked the Broadway and I thought the first 30 in the waitlist line were a sure bet. I feel like I let them down after convincing them to come.

legitimately sick

Tonight I feel really sick. I woke up stuffy and with a sore throat. My eyes feel sticky and my head heavy. This is not a good way to go into the beginning of a 10-day sleep-deprivation event (Sundance Film Festival). It was also not a good way to start the day I spent in Vernal for a business presentation. However, I did make the sale of a new website design for Dinosaurland. That felt good. Then I rested a little as soon as I got home.

The last few weeks have been really rough. I've been feeling sick nearly every evening. No doubt it can be attributed to being pregnant. But I've been trying to keep that info on the down-low for now until ready to tell the new employer. Which makes a sickly ironic situation. The twisted world that is corporate America makes it so that women in the early stages of pregnancy, when most prone to nausea, exhaustion, and complete lack of interest in food, etc., are unable to really express any symptoms of illness. So by evening I'm purging while cutting chicken breasts, by day I'm consumed by thoughts of food that sound good until any of it is actually placed in front of me.

My next temporary goal is to just survive the festival. I'm excited for it, but am hoping that right about when it's over is when I'll enter that blissful-sounding phase of 2nd trimester, supposedly devoid of the current conditions. What I can say is that this time around I'm taking full advantage of the unabashed self-fondling that's permitted during pregnancy. I have no reason to feel ashamed of this bump.

Project Prom Dress

Last night the HB and I were watching Project Runway. Heidi announced the challenge to create an outfit for the most important day of a woman's life. It turned out to be some high school girls' prom. At that moment I paused to express my utter bewilderment and outrage at the suggestion that that's the most important day of a woman's life. Surely these women will go to college? Surely we've realized that reinforcing the importance of being beautiful and sexy is far more damaging than pointing out other opportunities in life available to young women? The HB could hardly agree though, he said that for them it probably was everything. I'm sure that many high school girls are only obsessed with clothing, makeup, looks, and friends and boyfriends. However, I don't think we should encourage that attitude. Maybe I look down on it because in high school there was nothing I wanted more than to get out of my house so it's hard to imagine being comfortable enough there to obsess over clothes and friends. But I'll also admit that I did go to the prom, that it was one of the worst dates of my life, and that I wished I'd had the chance to ever go to a dance and feel beautiful with someone I love (went to one in college, also awful). I asked the HB to go to my University's homecoming with me the first year we were married, but he didn't want to. I guess the 5 or 6 times he went to prom and all of the other high school dances did him in.

Up All Night 'Til Two

The HB wanted to have a Halo party for New Year's Eve, so in all efforts to maintain my reputation, I totally sucked on the round I played. Besides my sucking though, it was a great time until I started to feel royally ill and exhausted around 12:30, so I wasn't up much longer. The next day when Caiden's mom brought him over I asked him how late he was up. Caiden proudly reported that in fact, he'd never been to sleep, but what had happened was that at 2 a.m. he closed his eyes for a second and then a huge blast of light hit him and it was the next morning. Even as I tucked him in last night and reminded him he'd been up very late the night before and had school today, he reminded me that, "actually, I never went to sleep last night." I'm glad he thinks he's such a party animal.

Books read in 2007

In no particular order, these are the books I completed in the year 2007.

Master and Margarita--Mikhail Bulgakov
An Unfinished Life--Mark Spragg
The Mission Song--John Le Carre
The Last of Her Kind--Sigrid Nunez
Doctor Zhivago--Boris Pasternak
Little Children--Tom Perrotta
Lolita--Vladimir Nabokov
The Road--Cormac McCarthy
Corelli's Mandolin--Louis De Bernieres
Voyage to Arcturus--David Lindsay
Snakes and Earrings--Hitomi Kanehara
Jacob's Room--Virgnia Woolf
the Hours--Michael Cunningham
Salome--Oscar Wilde
Ender's Game--Orson Scott Card
Garden of Eden--Ernest Hemingway
Atonement--Ian McEwan
Flashforward--Robert James Sawyer
The Bus Driver who Wanted to be God--Etgar Keret
Tropic of Cancer--Henry Miller
Black Sun--Edward Abbey
men are from mars, women are from venus--John Gray
Miracle of the Andes--Nando Parrado w/ Vince Rause
Devil in the White City--Erik Larson
The Girls Who Went Away--Ann Fessler
You're a stepparent…now what?--Joseph Cerquone
Collapse--Jared Diamond
Lone Survivor--Marcus Luttrell
Between a Rock and a Hard Place--Aron Ralston
Rasputin, the saint who sinned--Brian Moynahan
Bad Childhood, Good Life--Dr. Laura Schlessinger

Truck Update

We were told by the officers to stand ready to pick up the truck within the hour that they call us to notify us that they've found it. So when our phone rang at 2 a.m. we were expecting to jump in our car. However, it turns out the truck made its way to Twin Falls, Idaho. So the HB is on his way there in the morning thanks to the good nature of our wonderful neighbors who are giving him a buddy pass on Skywest. Of course the Guitar Hero III game wasn't recovered, but it sounds as if the truck and most of its contents were left in decent shape.

Truck Stolen

Christmas Eve morning:
Dressed in my gym clothes, I go outside to start the truck. I return inside to make a piece of toast. I pick up my bags and open the door, the truck is gone. Wasn't it just there? I immediately knew it had been stolen. The HB calls 911 and files the report, the officers show up within 10 minutes. The Christmas present I bought off Craigslist for Tyler and Caiden was in the backseat. The officers say they usually recover the vehicles in 2-3 days. Tyler sends me to the gym and I come home to shower so he can take me in for my half day of work today. We'll see how it goes I guess.

end of an era

For the past 5 years since living in Utah I've had a routine of working out at the gym, showering there, and going to work. Occasionally this is thrown off by missed alarm clocks, forgotten items at home, or too late of nights, but rarely.

Because of this routine, it's also necessary to pack my breakfast with me, and eat it on my way to work, or just after getting there. Usually this is a yogurt, and a plastic baggie with grapenuts poured into it and mixed up.

Until this morning. The last few days this breakfast has tasted like the worst thing on the planet. I got halfway through this morning and just couldn't do it. Even as I bagged the grapenuts last night the thought of my breakfast was disgusting, but I did it anyway. I should have known better.

So I stopped at the gas station, bought some juice and a maple bar, and for the first morning in a week, it didn't seem like a chore to eat breakfast.

Juno post 2

Last night the HB and I were able to see the movie Juno. I've been waiting months to see this movie, ever since I heard about it. Unfortunately, I think the story of girls that give up their babies for adoption has gone untold for the most part. And yet every personal account I've ever read, be it modern stories or from a book about women that did so in the 1950's, every girl said it was the pivotal point of her entire life.

Watching it made me really sad in some ways, but I totally loved it as well. And it was crazy to realize how young we all were when those decision had to be made.

Because it was an advanced screening we all got free t-shirts named after the running group in the movie, the "Dancing Elk Condors."

The weird thing was that last night I dreamt about my baby boy. He's 9 years old now and in my dream I was watching him play baseball. And he was sooo beautiful.

Go see it.

The Speer House Rules

The HB and I recently did our first groundings. Caiden may be too young for it, I'm not sure, but after a few days of really poor behavior at school, we made him stay in his room at night and only come out for dinner, no computer games, nothing (though he did have the toys in his room). It seemed appropriate, but he's so young too. I"m not sure if it helped though since he didn't seem too phased. He's such a great kid anyway.

I was grounded a ton, but grounding didn't do much because there wasn't much I was allowed to do in the first place, and I was always in trouble, regardless of my degree of adherence to rules. Here are some of the rules I had growing up. They are harsh, but the rules weren't even the hard part of it:

Jeans can only be worn to school once a week
A dress/skirt must be worn to school once a week
No name brand clothing
No solid black (black top with black pants)
No listening to any radio stations except for soft rock
No phone calls to boys
No talking on the phone except to make arrangements for meetings
No dating non-Mormons
No two-piece bathing suits
Shorts and skirts must reach your knees, tank tops or sleeveless shirts
No playing with friends on Sundays
No jumping on the trampoline on Sundays
No swimming on Sundays
No cussing
No funky hair colors or cuts
No tight clothing
No big earrings
No smoking/drinking, etc.
No tv shows with innuendos or opposite sexes living together (why i've never seen 'friends' or most tv shows on in the 80's and 90's)
No mtv ( we didn't have cable anyway)
No spending time with non-mormons, male or female friends not of the faith
No grade lower than a B and anything less than an A also incurred lectures

unspecified, but frowned upon (might as well be a rule):

Too much make-up or none at all
Wearing a piece of black clothing too often
Receiving phone calls from boys (this could result in huge trouble)

Chichen Itza

I think 9th grade was the first time I actually wrote a research paper about the Maya, though I remember checking out library books on them long before that. That paper was 25 pages, doublespaced. Then I didn't do another one until I was a freshmen at BYU. I took a 300-level class called Mesoamerican Archaeology from Professor Stephen Houston, a world-famous Mayan expert. I was unaware of his reputation for being such a hard professor, and I think it impressed him that I was brave enough to take his class the first semester. When it came to paper time we had to discuss our idea with him for further advice. I wanted to write on the ruins in Tikal, in my mind, the most magnificent because they harbored the tallest Mayan pyramid. So he suggested a set written by Michael Coe based on his excavation work there. Later, I walked away from the library with all 14 volumes, half in my backpack, and half in my arms. I bore through page after page of reports that sounded like recipes--recordings of how many meters or centimeters of dirt had been removed and in which 1 meter x 1 meter quadrangle a certain piece of wall had been found. But eventually I devoured the chapters on the Temple of the Giant Jaguar and found plenty of good stuff for my paper. The history of the building, the architectural technique and style, the message of the carvings, etc and I wrote my paper on that.

I learned more about other Maya sites in the class too, Palenque, Uxmal, Chichen Itza, Bonampak and more. I took another class in Maya art, the symbols in their writings and in their carvings, the historic records of battles and successions. The more disgusting the information I learned, the more fascinated I was. I guess nothing makes me feel quite more alive than all that thinking about blood, though I'd feel guilty describing them as not much more than brutal tribes because they were skilled astronomers, mathematicians, artisans and more.

So upon finally visiting my first Mayan site, I recognized some of the carvings I'd studied. Chichen Itza is, I believe, the ruins with the most buildings remaining standing, though I know there are many uncovered mounds and buildings throughout Yucatan and the rest of Maya land. It was so much fun to explore the area with Tyler and actually see and touch some of the buildings. Much to my chagrin, we weren't able to climb the pyramid, but other buildings we were allowed on and there was plenty to see.

As for the rest of our vacation, Tyler is writing some great detailed day-to-day reports so check out his blog here

And I think I resisted any overseas shopping blunders, but am sad that many of the souvenir gifts I bought ended up broken in pieces in my luggage.

Thirsty Thursday

I didn't do much drinking on Thanksgiving, but it seems that Henry was parched because while cleaning his cage I held his water container for him and he guzzled like a camel. My hand looks the size of Dave Grohl's in the Michel Gondry video to "Everlong."



At my parents' house April and I and her boys climbed on the hay in the old chicken coop and posed for pictures. Tyler tried picking fights with my parents most bad-A goat.

Friday we took Caiden downtown to the Church History museum. He loved seeing the old guns, some were as tall as he is.

And ever since the game ended on Saturday, I've been packed for our trip to Cancun. I made myself wait until Monday to start reading "Tropic of Cancer" because somehow I thought it the appropriate book for bringing on my trip, despite that it takes place in France. (Maybe I just need an external excuse to read something bawdy every now and then, even though I feel no internal shame in doing so). One more day before we leave.

Overseas Shopping Blunders

We've all done it when overseas. You feel like part of the community there, like you belong somehow because you get to be yourself completely. And so you purchase the native goods, feeling so at one with yourself and with them because you feel good about yourself.

In Israel I bought an Arab style dress like all the women wore at the market. The simplicity was so beautiful and serene to me. I wore it a few times during my semester over there, but never after bringing it back. I ended up giving it to my roommate who had some interest in it, though I'm not sure she was ever able to wear it either. I bought a set of glass painted bracelets there too. They were so beautiful, but in the end, not quite my style. Like artifacts, I love ethnic jewelry but the bracelets seemed more my sister's style, she looks good in anything and goes for more natural looking things. I've never been able to pull off the crinkle skirts or peasant blouses so I'm left with few outfits to wear ethnic jewelry with.

When I lived in Japan I bought Christmas gifts to bring home for my family and friends. At a loss for ideas, I thought it best to go with what all the Japanese were buying for gifts. They shop at large department stores, where things like fancy dishes and fabrics are on display. And because that was what was popular there, I found the platters elegant. Of course, personally I've never had a need or desire for fancy platters, who wants expensive dishes when you don't hold dinner parties or when your house is never emaculate? But I bought one for my boyfriend and I think my parents too, I honestly can't remember. I don't know what I was thinking then.

So I'm vowing now not to make stupid shopping blunders while in Mexico.

Free Pass

I got my first free pass to get away alone for the weekend. Been waiting a long time for it since I was sort of accustomed to being able to and it felt soooo good. The HB wanted to tile the bathroom and go to some of the high school playoff games so he sent me off. I met up with some of my old roommates on Friday and then headed to Cedar City. I went to Cedar Breaks where I hiked to the far overlook of the amphitheater and then also around the half frozen alpine pond. I found a tree that looked like a desert mermaid to me: The top branch being her hair trailing behind her and the bottom branch her body and tail.

That night I watched "The Door in the Floor" on my laptop in my crappy hotel room. My favorite part was when Jeff Bridges reads his short story aloud to an audience--I love to be read to and it was an intriguing story.

In the morning I got off early to hike to Kolob Arch in the north end of Zions. It was 13 miles in all and all beautiful. I loved seeing how the creek wore the rock away and couldn't resist plunging my feet in on the way back, despite the chill.

I might have considered eating the mushrooms if I hadn't been afraid I'd think myself a Sasquatch.


On my way home I stopped by the Parowan Gap Petroglyphs. It's a set of elaborate Fremont style glyphs that supposedly make a kind of solar calendar. They were fenced off and normally I would have loved to take a closer look but was honestly not that into it. I bought a huge ice cream sundae and drove home.

No Heroic Claims

As an afterthought to the post below, I wish to say that I don't believe I have any more grasp on life than anyone else, and that I don't think my personal philosophy on life better than any other philosophy on life. I have practically forced myself to make every move meaningful and purposeful so that the decisions I made in my past will have been worth the cost. I have to live life the way I do. And I suppose everyone does the same for themselves.

Atlas Shrugged 50th

I used to have a bumper sticker that read: "Who is John Galt?" Sometimes people left notes on my dashboard saying "we love that book too!" referring to Ayn Rand's 'Atlas Shrugged'. This year is the book's 50th anniversary. I read it when I was 19 years old. My friend Stephanie recommended it to me. I loved it, but had a hard time describing why to my friends or even what it was about. To me it was sort of about the economy, sort of a story about a woman, and mostly about knowing what you want out of life and not being apathetic. I think that's why the book affected me so much was because at that time I didn't know what I wanted. I was headed back to BYU, partly out of ignorance of what other possibilities I had. I was going to study archaeology because I loved it, and somehow I thought it would bring me adventure. I did know that I didn't want to be another person who talked about doing things but never actually did them. So the book sort of got me started on being unafraid to go after what I wanted. Some people call it selfishness, but for me it was about self-actualization. Why should I stay in Provo after graduation just because I had a boyfriend there? I wanted to get out into the world. I've had a lot of great times with people that didn't know what they wanted--and I think there's a difference between being a happy wanderer and being completely direction-less. But just knowing what you want to get out of things made everything more meaningful for me.

Having seen a lot of articles about the book recently because of the anniversary, I was reminded of all the things it did for me, or at least helped me realize so I could do them for myself. It gave me a sense of control and authority over my own life. It felt empowered to do the things that I dreamt of. I still have a huge problem with guilt, and in some ways, my sense of responsibility holds me back as well. So I'm still working on it, but I do believe that if you're holding the world on your back and it's getting heavier and heavier and you don't know why you're holding it, why not just shrug? Why continue to do things that have no meaning for you?

So if you've never read the book and most likely never will (it's a daunting 1000 pages), I'm sharing a poem I found a few years back that shares a similar philosophy. It's an alternate version of the famous 'Desiderata', the original version is quite beautiful and you can find it here

I like to call this version the Ayn Rand version and mine too. (On a side-note, my version generally represents my path through life--fighting against everything handed me, while the original seems like the approach of my two favorite people, my twin sister and my husband, two people who admirably sort of happily float through life and what it brings them--just my perception guys, we can argue later):

Desiderata Too

23 August 1995

Don't go placidly amid the apathy and lethargy. Remember that your silence is consent and there can be no peace where there is injustice.

You can't please all the people all the time, so shout your truth from the mountain top and don't accept nonsense from the bigoted, the ignorant and the self-serving.

Don't avoid people who are upset. They may have good reasons and your care and interest may make them less aggressive.

Be tolerant of the diversity that makes everyone special and be aware that there are no persons greater or lesser than yourself.

Don't live in the past or future. Enjoy the present.

Don't become obsessed by your own career. It cannot give you security or possession of anything or anyone.

Exercise trust in your dealings but be circumspect, as the world is full of materialists.

Become yourself. Express affection for all people and all species.

Be sceptical about romance for it is as transient as a summer flower.

Don't become tired in your ways and never surrender your sense of wonder. Don't be defensive. Be optimistic and imaginative.

Fatigue and loneliness are born of fear. Be rigorous in accepting responsibility for your actions and their consequences.

You are a child of your less than perfect parents and like the trees and the stars your time will pass. And whether or not it is clear to you, things are not working out nearly as well as they could.

Whatever you conceive God to be, also be aware that every single thing you do actually changes the world. Dreams cannot be broken and they will give you no peace if you don't act with integrity.

Unfortunately, this world is becoming uglier each day.

Be brave.

Strive for the right of all people to make their own paths.

Found in a South Australian kitchen. Copyright 1992 Andrew Bunney.

Walking with the Ghost

Much to my chagrin, Caiden didn't want to be a pretty princess for Halloween (actually, I just like to tease him about how pretty he is). So shortly after hanging our Grim Reaper door decoration he decided that was who he wanted to be. His cousins didn't even recognize him at first, that's how good of a job Tyler did on his makeup.


Also, we've taken a lot of pics of Henry, the hamster, but none look too great. This one though shows his little loft that I'm jealous of--wouldn't it be awesome to have a glass-ceilinged bedroom up above your house?

Shhhhhh...

Tyler and I got Caiden a hamster for his birthday. He's at his mom's tonight so we're going to give it to him in the morning. But I can't hold in how cute the thing is! I had hamsters when I was a kid. When I called my mom to ask her a few questions about them before buying, she said she'd saved a letter I wrote to one of my hamsters when she died.

After the game tonight I got home anxious to see the little fella because Tyler had picked him up during lunch. I opened the cage and sort of just waited while he kept walking up and smelling my hands, then walking away, and back again. And then I reached in and took him out and held him. Soooo cute! I hope Caiden likes him.

Blowout

Saturday we went to the BYU game against Eastern Washington. Like the past 5 weekends, Friday was beautiful and Sunday was beautiful, but Saturday was miserable. Before the game had started I gave Tyler and Caiden a tour of the campus. I love BYU's campus and have only set foot in the stadium vicinity since I left so it meant a lot to me that they'd walk around and enjoy it with me. I showed them some of my favorite buildings and most beautiful spots. We went to the bookstore for some Cougar paraphernalia and then headed over to the game. I went as snow-prepared as possible, excited, but dreading the moment that I would be too cold to just be sitting in it watching a game. My sister was working at Sundance and offered me a massage if I needed to leave the game early. Tempting as it was, I actually survived the first three quarters just fine, never even requiring the hand-warmers the HB brought. We saw BYU score their 6th touchdown to make the score 42-7 and then left shortly after the snow tripled in density and started blowing into our faces. There were 10 minutes left. The last shot was taken by the HB on our way out. It was cool to see it snow like that on the field, but I felt sorry for the players. So we had a great time, but I do hope that not all of the remaining games will be as cold.

Juno

This movie is due out in December, and I can't wait to see it even though I'm sure I"ll bawl my eyes out. Watch the trailer at: Juno trailer

restless or unstable?

I quit my job. I've wanted to quit for months and finally got approval from the HB when I got a job just 2 miles from our house. It will be nice to eliminate the commute and actually do something I enjoy. I'll be working for the website go-utah.com that is a travel and tourism site developing for each state in the nation. I'm excited and figured I had the position nailed because I love the Utah outdoors, I did an archaeology dig in Utah, and I have extensive experience as a travel agent.

I think the HB is suspicious that I'm unstable, due to the frequent change of jobs I've had over the years compared to his. Maybe I am unstable, or just restless. I've never lived anywhere as long as I've lived in Salt Lake (4.5 years now) besides the town I grew up in. I've posted before about the various jobs I've had: you're not your job I blame the high number on moving a lot as a student, I've enjoyed most of the ones I've had so I wouldn't say I'm a quitter. But maybe I've become accustomed to the idea of starting something new on a regular basis and I sort of crave it.

My college boyfriend accused me of leaving every-other semester because I practically did (once to Jerusalem, once to my dig, once to a new apartment complex because we weren't getting along, then to Japan after graduation). It was kind of a joke with my roommates and friends. They said that next thing they knew I'd be in Africa, and I still regret not going there or not having been there yet. (I've read so many books about the birth of humanity that how could I not go there?)

So the job starts next Monday and I am excited. That's all there is to it.

Holy San Rafael

As opposed to sitting at home watching the LDS General Conference in our pajamas, the HB and I decided to go to the San Rafael Swell. It's the latest I've ever been there, and though a little chilly, it was very nice. We brought the HB's parents along with us and dragged them through Little Wild Horse Canyon and Goblin Valley as well as a trek out to some caves.
I love being able to show people the places I love so it was awesome that they came and were so hard-core! We brought Caiden's cousins as well and they had fun climbing on rocks, catching lizards and frogs, and running ahead to hide. Caiden's lizard kept climbing up his arm every time he tried to put it down--it must have really loved him!

My Visual DNA

This is a cool test because it's like a personality test, but based on what pictures you choose to describe different things. My results were pretty accurate for how I would describe myself, even though I did have a hard time deciding on a few of the things. The hardest one to choose was a picture to represent love--I treasure every kind of it!
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Onslaught

Dove's latest ad in their Campaign for Real Beauty. It's disgusting the things we do to our bodies or are made to feel like we need to.

maybe it's my bed

There is no doubt in my mind that my bed is too soft and that that is a contributing factor for my difficulty sleeping. I feel like it totally sinks in the middle and because of that, somewhere in my head I feel like it's not holding me, it's not supporting me, and it's making my limbs conform to poor posture and I hate that. It's almost like I have to somehow stay awake to hold up my body the way I wish it would.

But maybe some of the sleeping problem can be blamed on the HB. Sorry honey, but after reading this article about how men sleep better next to their mates, but women suffer, I was convinced. No you don't snore loudly every night, and no your tossing and turning doesn't wake me often, but can I still blame it on you? I used to sleep so well. I think it's just going to sleep that's difficult. I envy you when you're out seconds after laying down on your back and I'm left alone. Then I feel myself sliding into the sinkhole next to you. I love being next to you, but sometimes that sinkhole is a pit that wants to swallow my body and I feel I have to struggle to keep out all night. My limbs feel tired when I wake up as if they never got to relax and just be held up by something else. It's true the couch is honestly better, but the symbolism of sleeping on it keeps me on the bed most nights. So I'm asking, will you please just knock me out next time?

Box therapy?

Sunday I was afraid the HB wouldn’t want to leave the house with our new TV just sitting there. But prior to the purchase he’d already committed to a hike in the canyons to see the fall colors. He drove all the way up Big Cottonwood while we listened to Uh Huh Her—my latest new band discovery—and while the nauseating curves slowly consumed me. But soon we were at Guardsman Pass and looking down on Park City. We hiked around, finding ourselves at the top of a ski resort. After climbing into the lift seats for pictures we walked through the ski patrol shack and onto the metal catwalk that went through the trees behind it and which culminated in an empty cedar box. After taking turns inside the box--remember the blanket therapy in the movie "I Heart Huckabees?"--we went down the canyon to do a little walk along the Lake Blanche trail. By then I felt totally refreshed. It was much cooler in the canyon, and the colors were insanely vibrant. Last time I hiked this trail was just after getting married and I split my knee open, getting my first stitches ever. I"m madly in love with the trail though. It felt great to be out and I may have a new favorite pic of the HB.

the best Sunday School teacher

The best Sunday school teacher I ever had was a guy who had rarely come to church. When he got the assignment to teach a class of teenagers he started attending to fulfill the responsibility. His lessons often included a personal story and he was genuine in sharing his feelings. He never openly talked about why he'd quit going to church a long time ago, not that we could have fully understood anyway, but he didn't hide his struggles or gloss over them. He talked about the mission he served in Korea--about all the crazy things other missionaries were doing and how many of them had been sent home because of them. He briefly talked about his divorce.

The most profound story he shared was about scuba diving. He was a scuba diver and very well experienced. He was healthy and athletic and daring. He knew the guidelines for scuba diving were created decades ago when divers still used bell helmets and he knew those guidelines could be pushed with modern equipment. He pretty much disregarded the guidelines until one time he had been far below the surface for a very long time--far beyond the recommended limit. He began to feel ill as he came to the surface too quickly and became violently so when he reached it. He got what is known as "the bends", a decompression sickness. He had to spend a number of days in a pressurized chamber to even be able to stand up straight again. When he finished telling this story, he emphasized how sometimes rules seem too limiting, too out-dated, and too conservative. But they're made to be that way because everyone has different limits and by following the guidelines closely, they can avoid much pain.

I like knowing why rules are there. I need to know where they came from, it’s not about the consequences, but it’s about understanding. I want an explanation for everything, but I need it in terms of real life. I want open honesty, I don't want sugar-coated versions of growing up in the Church, or about life's lessons. I don't know how best to draw the line sometimes--I guess I never really knew the social etiquette as to what is appropriate to talk about with whom and at what times, but then I don't think there should be boundaries at all. What I do know is that I want to be the kind of teacher that he was.

friday night light(ning)s

At the East High varsity game on Friday, they interrupted it twice due to lightning in the distance, one 30 minute delay and one 40 minute delay. I didn't get the lightning on camera, but did get the above pic of the clouds and rain to the south. Longest game ever, but they killed Murray High and it was a nice view.

madeleine

Madeleine L'Engle died on September 6th. I just read about it today. She's most famous for authoring the children's sci-fi series that starts with the book "A Wrinkle in Time."

I remember reading one of the books in her autobiographical series called "A Circle of Quiet" when I lived in Missoula. I took down a passage that resonated with my own feelings about language and expression and life. The passage has many meanings for me and has gained more over time. It inspires me always.

"The more limited our language is, the more limited we are; the more limited the literature we give to our children, the more limited their capacity to respond, and therefore, in their turn, to create. The more our vocabulary is controlled, the less we will be able to think for ourselves….If we limit and distort language, we limit and distort personality."

when we find the perfect water

When we find the perfect water
We'll hang out on the shore
Just long enough to leave our clothes there
--Modest Mouse "Fire it Up"

The HB and I went to see Modest Mouse for our second time together on Monday night. I'm in love with everything Isaac Brock writes. As an archaeology undergrad I especially appreciate that there's a song called "australopithecus" and I'm crazy about the song "parting of the sensory" about carbon dating on their new album.

As for our perfect water, the HB and I are still looking for it. I can't figure out if I'm the one whose been ready to get naked and jump in and he just can't give me everything or if I'm the one afraid to jump in. I feel like I'm giving everything I can, but honestly there wasn't much for me to leave behind. I want us to be as close as possible. For the HB I'll say I think he is accustomed to being surrounded by people who love and adore him, so I'm not as much of an integral player as I'd like to be. And it's hard not to be jealous that life seems so easy for him, and to not be angry that I've worked so hard for years to establish my identity and get over my past only to have to do it all over again post-marriage.

There are so many things that I wanted, so many that I still want, and some that I gave up wanting. But I want my husband and I love him terribly.

So here are some more Modest Mouse words I would give to the HB:

It was not the intention
But we let it all go
Well it messed up the function
And sure fucked up the flow
I hardly have people that I needed to know
'Cause you're the people that I wanted to know
All this scrambling around
Hunting high and then low
Looking for the face love
Or somewhere to go
I hardly have places that I need to go
'Cause you're the places that I wanted to go
Yeah you're the places that we wanted to go
Yeah you're the places that we wanted to go

namesakes, faith, and identity

Recently a collection of letters written by Mother Teresa were published. The letters revealed some of her struggles with faith. Some writers have expressed shock, others, comfort to know that she was human too. She’s always been a kind of hero of mine and now she has even more depth than the depth of her caring—she has more character. No person is one-dimensional, you cannot be only one thing. And because of that I think everyone struggles with faith. I liked what one writer had to say:

"I think there is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe," wrote Flannery O'Connor, the Roman Catholic author whose stories traverse the landscape of 20th-century unbelief. "What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe."

It reminds me of the book turned movie "The Namesake." It follows the life of a boy whose parents immigrated from India. He grows up in a primarily American lifestyle, but is confused by his Indian heritage. For a time he wants to ignore it altogether, and then after a traumatic event, he embraces it completely. He marries an Indian girl and attempts to live the traditional life expected of him when. But this doesn't work either, he discovers her infidelity and they part, leaving him doubting his identity and his decisions. Again, his world is shattered. Here he had tried to do everything right, and now it all comes back in his face. He has to face the fact that he has to come up with his own identity—his own adaptation of what works—what lets him be himself without denying his heritage and with self-respect. How he can reconcile the values of his heritage while finding a path that allows him to be honest with himself, not trying to be something he's not.

I loved it because as an audience you want resolution, you want him to be one thing or the other, but real life is never like that. Real life is coming to a reconciliation of your upbringing and your own way of life. All or nothing is never a viable option, and if you try to force it, you end up devastated at one point or another.

I struggle with this all of the time as a Mormon. I don’t agree with the way my parents enforced religion growing up. I believe God doesn’t want to force us to be good but to make our own choices, to have the freedom to do so. I believe it’s more important to be loving and warm than to strictly adhere to a code of conduct; it’s more important to treat others well than to have perfect church attendance, or daily scripture study. I would say that religion has often been a "cross" for me rather than an electric blanket, but it means much more to me as a cross than a blanket--it forces me to identify why I choose it and why I follow it. There have been times where I tried adamantly to do everything by the book, but I felt less human, less alive, and my friendships seemed hollow. I was denying part of myself, part of my need to express and not filter. I now prize the questioning I've done and am doing to continue to do to meld my religion with what I personally value. The goal is to live in absolute integrity, to never have to wonder where to draw the line, because I've made the lines consistent with what I believe is right. And by being so honest with myself, I can be fulfilled in my life and my relationships.

the dopest site

In reward for attending 3 football games this last week I got the HB to go with me on a one-night backpacking trip for the holiday. We went to the Clyde Lake area of the Uintahs--Clyde Lake gets the honor for a 5 mile loop trail that passes by 15 different lakes. Anyway, we got there in the late afternoon and hiked about 3 miles in before it started to rain and would soon be dark. We popped our tent up in the dopest site on a little land bridge between two smaller lakes. It was beautiful, no other campers nearby, and just perfect. It was cold, but I loved that it rained because it gave the HB a reason to cuddle with me early.
We made our dinner quick and then crawled into the tent to wait it out. When it stopped raining we built the fire up again and talked for a long time before getting back in the tent for some sleep. I feel like we've hardly been home, but I really needed the trip and it was totally worth it.

hatchlings

The HB left me all alone tonight to answer Caiden's hard questions. I was still tucking him in when he said he felt like something was missing. It went like this:

"what's missing?"
"i don't know i just feel like one of my animals is missing or something."
"okay, here's your teddy bear" [picking him up] "here's your dog, your lion, and your tiny teddy"
"oh, that's what it was, the tiny teddy...why do call it a tiny teddy?"
"because he's tiny, have you ever seen a bear that tiny? even babies aren't that tiny"
"yeah they are. they are when they're in the mommy's tummy...Are babies just hatched from an egg and then born from their mommies?"
"yeah they are"
"how big are they in the egg?"
"they're just a speck"
"how big is the egg, two specks?"
"yeah" "but then they take 9 months to grow to baby size inside the mommy."
"nuh uh, it's already been 2 years" [indicating me]
"well, i'm not growing a baby yet"
"oh, when are you going to grow one?"
"i'll tell you when we decide"
"how do you know when you're growing one?"
"when you get fat. now go to sleep."

Hopefully, none of this information was a surprise for anyone reading.

interception

I'm sure the HB will have more to say about this weeks' games, but I'm going to intercept him with these pics from the BYU game today--showing what hard-core fans we are, even down to our shoes!

Caiden played with his aunts and cousins, so he's ready for bed in the pic. It was a long day, and a long week of games, but it was good to finish off with a great win for BYU.
The first time I ever went to a football game in my life was my senior year at BYU. My roommates and I got All Sports Passes with a bunch of people in our ward and I went along for the fun. I didn't know anything about it (girls only learn sports their dads or brothers are into, and eventually, their boyfriends) but I painted my face and stood in the crowd, and really had a good time. Except the first part of the year there was this kind of weird guy in the ward who had the hots for me that would try to sit by me, but that faded. Anyway, I think I could call myself pretty hard-core now, and I love it, even though I still need a lot of referee calls explained to me.

my mind on my money and my money on my mind

Got a cover today of "Gin and Juice" done by Phish that is totally awesome! It sounds like bluegrass because they invited a banjo player. The cover version really brings out the lyrics, and makes the whole song comical--you'll have fun just listening to it if you can get a copy.

Echo Park trip

April and I did our birthday camping trip without our HB's this year--hers got sick and mine was coaching. So we took off with her two little boys and headed out to Echo park on the eastern side of Dinosaur National Monument. None of us had ever been there before and so I had no idea it would be so amazing. I love desert camping, the high red sandstone walls, the white slickrock to run up on, the narrow canyons, etc. This place had those features as well as lots of vibrantly green trees (think Capitol Reef) and just behind our campsite the Green and Yampa rivers meet and provide sandy beaches. Seeing it made me really wish the HB could come because he loves camping by water and it was over the top that there was actually a soft, sandy beach.
When we first walked over to "check out the water" we ended up staying long enough for Lanik to take off his clothes and play, dragging his Woody toy through the water and then face-first through the mud, burying him in sand, and then making a castle. The next morning we had high hopes of doing a lot of hiking, but were only able to pull off one complete hike. It was a 2 mile trail that overlooked the canyon we were camping in and the river gorges. It was a perfect hike because it started drizzling not long after we got on the trail, and though it made for foggy pictures, it added that sort of ethereal feeling that only comes when you're looking through fog into the most beautiful landscape you've ever seen.
It cleared up as we walked down and we went back to the river to play some more. Later on we explored some old ranch buildings in the area built back in the 1920's. We picked up some cool rocks for Caiden and then on Sunday stopped at the dinosaur museum in Vernal. We'll definitely go back again so we can do more of the trails and show our husbands what a great place it was!

twins are badass

This morning I finished the book I was reading called “lone survivor.” It seemed especially appropriate that I finished it on mine and my twin sister’s birthday because it’s about who happens to be a twin, and ends with some notes on the bond between them. I do my reviews on goodreads.com but I have to share this one. I’m not into writing plot synopses in my reviews because I’m more concerned with what impressed me than plot details, but it’s about a Navy SEAL that survived a mission in Afghanistan when the rest of his team died. It’s about how he survived, how his teammates fell, and about his training and partially about his family’s experience in waiting for news on his condition / life. His twin brother, also a Navy SEAL kept telling his family that he knows Marcus is alive—he can feel it. I nearly started crying when I read about Marcus being saved, but I was reading it on the stair-stepper at the gym, so I didn’t. Not really. Not like I normally do. And then the editor made a note in the afterward that Marcus had been sent out on another mission a year later, as the leader of a SEAL team that his brother was on. It’s cool that they are so badass.

April and I had a pretty badass camping trip this last weekend for our birthday so I’ll be sure and get some pics up soon.

you can stand under my umbrella

Monsoon Vermont makes these umbrellas and various other products from recycled detergent boxes and other plastics in Indonesia. It's called The Scavenger Project, isn't it sweet?

The Last Unicorn

You may have watched this movie as a child and only remember a scary red bull, but if you’ve watched it as an adult you’d know there is far more to the story and it is relevant to your every waking day.

Schmendrick the magician changes the last unicorn into a woman in an effort to shield her from the red bull while she and they discover a way to find and free the other unicorns. But while she’s a woman she starts to fall in love with the prince who loves her desperately, and she forgets who she is and what she came to do, and though she knows she has a greater destiny, she wants to just love the prince. But Schmendrick pointedly tells her “there can be no happy endings in the middle of the story.”

I had a visit from the XBF last night. We dated and were good friends for a long time so it was fun to see him. It made me feel good too to realize that in most ways, I’m still the same person I was a few years ago. He is really struggling because his girl just got engaged to someone else and he wants to stop her, but is terrified of marriage. It’s hard for me to imagine not being able to move forward (I can’t stand feeling immobile), but I can understand marriage being daunting, which is why I talked about the Last Unicorn. Because I thought I did it right, I thought I wasn’t expecting complete bliss, or things to be happily ever after, but I really underestimated how difficult it can be. So now I have to remember that getting married isn’t the middle of the story and that happy endings really only come at the end.

I love the HB more than he can imagine, but I wonder all the time why I’m married. I have a very intense need for closeness, to constantly be growing closer—if I don’t feel like I’m growing closer to someone, even for a just a matter of days, I feel far away from them and it gets harder and harder to be close each time. And because I’m such a physical person and touch is my number one love language I get easily confused by the lack of it, or by the presumptuousness of it. This makes marriage incredibly painful at times. On top of that, I’m married to a man with an ex-wife and though he’ll tell me that marriage was anything but pleasant, all I can see of it is how wonderfully they get along now and how cooperative they are in their parenting efforts; and on occasion, I’ll accidentally run into some romantic remnant of their relationship together—making the entire thing seem so incredibly beautiful. And sometimes I only see the ugly parts of our marriage, and how it always seems too much to handle. But glimpses of the beautiful parts remind of the meaning of my life and I can’t give that up despite feeling overwhelmed and confused.

I once read that adopted children gain a greater sense of identity because they struggle harder to define themselves. Nothing seems healthier to me than really knowing who you are and what you want, so reading that made me happy for them. I think I have a strong sense of identity because of the struggles in my life and I like to think that struggling to make marriage fulfilling for the HB and I will hopefully someday give us a greater sense of unity than those who haven’t needed to. I like to think that.

compliments

Today at work we were discussing the FBI's lowering of the bar. Previously they've had a policy that incomers could never have even tried an illegal drug, but now they have to loosen up because it's too difficult to find people that have never even tried one.

So my co-worker paid me a pretty sweet compliment when he said I'd be perfect for the CIA, NSA, or FBI because I hold on to details like temperature, time, etc. He said I'm really good at recalling details in personal stories. I think I'm only good at it when it's a story that involves high emotionm, or something I feel strongly about. I mean, sometimes I forget how books end, but can practically retell random excerpts that I thought were very meaningful, that thus formed my opinion of the book, regardless of the story-line.

I remember in Amy Tan's book "The Kitchen God's Wife" when the main character reveals to her best friend what the worst day of her life was. Her best friend had been with her that day too, but she didn't remember that day standing out more than any other day at all, it was memorable, but not more horrible than others. The character then realizes how differently two people experiencing the same thing can be affected by it. I feel like that character a lot.

Bilk makes me genki!

The HB and I drink Bilk and that's why we are so genki! Genki is Japanese for happy/healthy. Yummm, Bilk.

less stuff, more life

Most of my friends know that I’d much sooner smoke a peace pipe than I would throw a piece of garbage on the ground. That’s just how I feel about littering, which is why I can’t help but express my current disgust with my employer.

My current employer is the maker of tens of thousands of natural supplements, herbs, vitamins, organic skin care, make-up, etc. As you might guess, a good portion of our customers are pretty environmentally conscientious. That’s why I’m dumbfounded by their decision to print our new catalog one-sided. Having put together most of the catalog I feel a sense of ownership and responsibility for how it comes out. Our CEO made the decision to print it one-sided this time as an experiment, and despite the efforts of many to sway his decision, including the printer we’re working with, he’s adamant about his choice. I may not be as OCD about saving paper as my boss in Japan was (who left me notes on the backs of receipts), but that decision is a huge violation of what I think is moral and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear a lot of complaints from our customers.

It seems ridiculous to me that we have the knowledge of our impact on the environment and yet can act so ignorantly. I recently finished reading the book “Collapse” by Jared Diamond. This book discusses the fall of various civilizations across a broad spectrum of population size, technological advancement, neighboring countries / civilizations, etc. throughout time. It’s easy to look back and see where some of these people went wrong. For instance, when the last tree was cut down on Easter Island, what were the people thinking? But the same things are happening today—Australia sells their trees to Japan at a rate much faster than their replacement; Montana has billions of dollars worth of damages from mining companies that have since been dissolved. Some of the past societies he discusses like the Vikings in Greenland, the Anasazi, the Maya, all thrived for much longer than the U.S. has even been around before they fell. So who are we to judge them when we haven’t even been around that long, and I would argue that we’re depleting our resources at a much faster rate. Just the other day the BBC showed this picture of trash on the beaches of Mumbai that made me sick.

We accumulate so much stuff that we hardly ever use. We think we need things and they end up sitting in our houses, our garages, our basements for that rare moment that we might need them. And then we need to buy more stuff just to put our stuff in. I want less stuff and more life. I'd rather have good memories than nice stuff.

ad envelopes

I was at a novelty shop the other day and saw some cards that were sort of reverse-designed. The envelope was made out of old magazine advertisements and the note inside on simple cardstock. I love old ads so I decided to give it a shot. Here is a sample.

The Cure tickets

After trying for the last three days on my way home from work I won tickets to see The Cure today! I had to answer 3 trivia questions and get 2 of them right. I answered the first one wrong so was really nervous but aced the other 2 so now I have tickets to the show in October! I'm so excited! My older brothers listened to The Cure a lot and I've loved them ever since. They came through town in 2004 just after their new album had come out, which I love, but I was stupid to not go see them. I like going to smaller shows and they cost less too, so it was a time when I thought I'd get another chance and then afterwards totally regretted not going. Tickets go on sale here on Saturday for October's show and I was going to buy them, but I figured it was worth a shot to win them and I did!

Total Fulfillment

I've been really discouraged with my job lately as well as all of my other endeavors. I don't feel fulfilled at work and so I keep looking for other ways to challenge myself and to feel productive. I started some volunteer work and a few other things on the side, but I feel so restless and a deep need to feel fulfilled, needed, and invigorated too. I hate to complain because I do my share of getting away for the weekend, and I go out more than most of the people I know--yet I have this insane drive to do something with my life, and the urge doesn't go away.

This last weekend was one of complete fulfillment though. The HB and I do a lot of camping and every trip is totally refreshing, but this one was exactly what I needed. We went to Joe's Valley reservoir with the HB and his family and did boating, cliff-jumping, camping, etc. I loved the chance to slalom ski and got some really good runs when the water was just perfectly glassy. I was also really happy to get up on the wakeboard again even though I'm still a retard at maneuvering it (hey I've never snow-boarded or skateboarded to this whole sideways thing is weird).

It just felt so good to do something that pushes my body. I workout every day in the morning and despite every effort to keep my workout from being routine, there's nothing like really pushing yourself outside and seeing what you can do. It's times like these that make me really want to test myself even more because the payoff feels so incredible--it's a physical and mental reward to me to feel good about what I can do and to feel inspired too about how amazing bodies are and the abilities that we have that we don't use.

Thanks to those who took me out on their boats!

Caiden reads to Johnny

Caiden read a bedtime story to his cousin Johnny while we were in Boise last week. It was so cute, he will be such a good big brother (except he doesn't want any little sisters!). It was also fun to see him play with my nieces--they are so full of love for everyone and the four of them played together all week.

ouch

Today I received my first bill for my student loan payoff. Does that mean I need to find an even more lucrative job now? The most interesting ones pay very little.

the new 'do

I finally got brave enough to cut my hair. I've had it long for a long time and like it that way, but I just really needed something new. Embarrassingly enough though, I did shed a few tears at the salon; I really couldn't help it.

waterskiing

April and I got to test our waterskiing skills last night at Utah Lake. It'd been a couple years for me and a few more for her, but we're still the rockin' waterskiers we grew up as. (We started skiing doubles at 11 and slalom at 14?15?). After I got a couple of good runs in I gave the wakeboard a shot. I got up on my fourth try, but biffed it on my way out of the wake. I have no idea how people do flips on those. The HB did some skiing too, but most impressive was that his dad, who's in his 60's got up on skis too! I hope I can still waterski when I'm over 60!

last chance for dutch oven rant

The HB wants to buy a dutch oven so this is my last chance to rant about them. I know I’ll have one soon, and I’ll enjoy it too (well not cleaning it and lugging it), but I just have to express how dumbfounded I am over their popularity. I grew up camping in Montana. Sometimes we’d catch fish and eat them for dinner. Most of my camp dinners these days trade off between some type of burrito and some type of foil dinner including meat and vegetables. I guess it could get boring considering that I’ve been going camping about once every three weeks the last couple of months, but it doesn’t. It seems to me we always have good food camping, we buy snacks that we normally wouldn’t like chips and keeblers. We bring fresh fruit and make our foil dinners with fresh vegetables. Sometimes we’ll bring homemade cookies and one time we heated a pie in our camp oven. So tell me, what is all the rage over dutch ovens?

I don’t have anything against dutch ovens, I’m sure they do make great cobbler, great lasagna, etc. My point is not that they’re bad, but that they’re not the end all. Many Utahns seem to believe that it’s a fact you can’t have a good camp meal without a dutch oven. They rave about their recipes like most men would about sexual conquests. I believe that these people are not true campers. Campers like good food, but dutch ovens are made for day-trips, for big dinners with big families that require huge amounts of preparation time. Overnight campers and multiple night campers may like the idea of the dutch oven, but not the reality of it. Frequent campers would dismiss it as a burden to their ability to impulsively depart for a trip.

Campers embrace the idea of cooking over the coals. Why not make a cobbler in a disposable tin foil pan and cook that on the coals? Is the dutch oven so superior? I just don’t understand what all the rage is in Utah over dutch ovens. I’m not saying they’re bad; I just don’t know what they’ve got on campfires.

kissing teens

My office at work is on the ground level. There's a large and open window well sort of in front of my windows that faces the street. Out of the corner of my eye is a bus stop, a little roofed structure, for the Park City bus. Recently there were 2 teenagers sitting behind the bus stop, on the grass, smoking cigarettes, dressed in all black, kissing, laying on the grass together, rolling on top of each other. Four of us watched from the office window, some just entertained, one guy, commenting on how upset their parents would be if they knew. But me, I thought the whole thing was sweet.

There are so many different ways of looking at love. The HB and I went to see the movie Paris Je T’aime on Monday. While we were sitting in the parking lot, windows down, eating our dinner, a patron of the nearby outdoor pub walked over to a car parked a couple over from us and proceeded to urinate on it. He returned to the pub and two more people, a male and a female walked over to the same car and urinated on it. It was strange because I wasn’t disgusted, I just thought it was strange and wondered why they were doing it. The movie was refreshing, I especially loved the segment by Alfonso Cuaron. Afterwards it seemed natural that those people would urinate on that car like they did—not because it’s acceptable—but because the world is full of surprises, it’s full of people doing things they wouldn’t normally do, it’s full of people falling in love with the wrong person, or making an unlikely match. And that makes me happy.

Beats per minute

Mine is 44. I went to the insta care on Saturday morning and my heart rate and blood pressure were taken. I like to think that I'm pretty healthy because I like to be active, despite my penchant for cookies and ice cream. I knew my heart rate was low but this time it actually set off an alarm. The nurse looked at me kind of odd and remarked how low that was. I responded "I work out a lot" to which he said "I've only seen a rate this low once before and that was a 100-year-old man--my heart rate is 58." So then I felt kind of weird. Then the doctor came in and made a similar comment, listened with his stethoscope and said "yeah, it kind of just beats every once in a while." No wonder I'm always so cold. No wonder sometimes at night I feel like my legs might fall off--blood must circulate so slowly to them.

April gave me a massage on Thursday night. I have been needing one so bad, it felt soooo good. Thank you April! She works up at the Sundance resort spa and is the best massuese ever.

Girl in a Coma

The HB and I went to see the band "Girl in a Coma" from San Antonio on Saturday night. It was the best show I've been to in a long time. We saw them 2 years ago when we were dating and loved them. Only a month ago they released their first album on Joan Jet's record label. Their band name was inspired by the Smiths' song "girlfriend in a coma" because they loved it, but they rock much harder than the Smiths. It was really too bad that their name isn't big enough yet and that not many people in SLC came out to see them. I really hope they come through again.

Trip Report: Grand Staircase Escalante

Like Isak Dinesen, I believe that places leave an imprint on people. I lived outside of Escalante in a tent for 2 months during my archaeology field school 6 years ago. Revisiting the place was like visiting a piece of me. It’s odd how at home you can feel in so many places other than your house.

I remembered where I played hackey-sack on top of the slickrock in our old campsite and where my tent was, and where we washed and labeled artifacts, where we studied, where we shared our dreams from the night before around the water, brushing our teeth. When we saw the pygmy rattlesnakes in the slot canyon I remembered how rattlesnakes waited each morning underneath the tarp covering the pithouse we were excavating. Usually Don would get a shovel and scoop one up at a time, throwing it over the cliff edge, only to see it there again the next morning. Sometimes others would do it. When we hiked to Calf Creek Falls I remembered how the weekend April and Bill and my brother Dave came to visit me we all raced to make it to the falls before dark and how having forgotten a flashlight we hiked back by the light of a cigarette lighter.

This time around we stayed at the State Park campground, where I used to take my only running shower of the week--$2 for eight minutes. Mid-week showers were taken every-other day by hanging your bag of water, letting some out to get wet, plugging it up, soap & shampoo, and then rinsing off. This helped a little with the buildup of dirt and sweat.

I was so happy to finally share this part of me with the HB, and even happier that he thought it was a beautiful place too. There’s such a wide variety of landscape in the area. In the book The Little Prince, the character says: “what makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.” It’s amazing the things hidden in the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. From the road you would never know there were tiny slot canyons to squeeze and wind your way through; you’d never know there was a beautiful waterfall deep in the canyon. I love being able to experience these things, to touch the canyon walls, to feel a part of the earth.

My Retirement Home

As seen in Teasdale, Utah.

Battlecreek

On Mother’s day we went for a little hike up Battlecreek Canyon. There’s a waterfall less than a mile back and the trail keeps going for miles if you just feel like hiking. The HB was trying out his new GPS and kept trading it back and forth with Caiden who wanted to give us the readings. Caiden was also trying out his new hiking shoes/sandals that are Airwalk rip-offs of the Keens the HB and I have. He wanted to get into the waterfall, and I think they did their best thought it doesn’t look it—Tyler swears that his back was getting soaked. Then we went a little further up the trail to climb on some rocks and put our feet in some pools. Caiden and I tried to get a drink. It was a great little escape.

windshield problem

I got this nasty hit on I-80 last night, just at the mouth of Parley's canyon. I didn't even see anything coming and just heard this loud smack and the glass broke and it scared me to death.

some rich tomb

News sources today had the headline that King Herod’s Tomb was found outside of Jerusalem. That’s what the headline says, but if you read the article you find out that they aren’t sure if it’s really King Herod’s tomb. They haven’t found any inscription or any bones even to at least date the sarcophagus. All they know is it’s a very ornate sarcophagus with decorative carvings in the limestone, indicative of a wealthy, perhaps, very important person. Couldn’t it be anyone then? Why do they want to prove that it was Herod’s tomb?

The audacity of news sources to post an uncertain fact as its headline really disturbs me. We all know headlines are supposed to be dramatic and grab your attention, but to state something as a fact when it is still unclear seems wrong to me.

Archaeology is a fascinating subject, but one that’s also tainted by numerous motives. Biblical archaeology can often be the most controversial because archaeologists often find what they’re looking for. Take Jericho for example. In the Bible it says that the walls surrounding the city eventually fell due to the efforts of Joshua and the Israelites. Archaeologists aiming to prove the Bible correct, will undoubtedly find evidence of ancient walls in the sediment surrounding the city. Archaeologists who do not believe in the Bible as a true record of events, may not find any evidence of walls, perhaps only a layer of sediment that’s distinctly different and cannot be said to be a wall or not.

Heinrich Schliemann, who claimed to have found the legendary city of Troy, made the claim the moment his digging turned up some ancient jewelry. He’d been looking for Troy forever and at the first sign of jewelry, declared that he’d found the “jewels of Helen,” placing them on his wife. In his excitement, he’d dug through most of the classic city and onto an earlier age. But he’d been looking for Troy and so he was blind to any other possibilities.

I fear a society that only finds what it’s looking for. There’s nothing wrong with looking for the good in people and in finding that, or in looking for the good in a situation and finding that, but what happens when we close our mind to other ways of thinking? Some people can’t get past the premise of a certain book or movie because it could disturb them. What’s wrong with being disturbed? Shouldn’t we be looking for our personal understanding of things rather than one that’s handed to us? I wouldn’t force anyone to do anything they don’t feel comfortable with, but I would encourage people to find out if what they fear could actually be something enlightening, or inspiring instead? And when we think we’ve found the truth, hopefully it’s more true than the others that we know, instead of being the only one we’ve ever considered.

I hope it does turn out to be Herod’s tomb. Knowing what you want gets you somewhere a lot faster than not knowing what you want or what you’re looking for. Just be wary of clinging to the first thing you uncover.