Thursday, February 4, 2010

Photostory Friday: 365 Week 5

365
Hosted by Chris





PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily and Robyn


365 Week 5

Or

Holy mediocre week, Batman!

Day 29


January 29: As much as I love sunsets, I love the cool, subtle light of sunrise even more.


Day 30


January 30: Dirty does not begin to describe the condition of my car. I'd forgotten it was silver.

And now if you see a little Nissan Sentra -- Utah license plate Z03 9RU -- and I'm not in it, it has been stolen. Please call the police.

I thank you in advance.


Day 31


January 31: Have you ever been cleaning out your freezer, and thought "Hey look, there's some eighteen year old strawberry jam, I think I'll give it away to my co-workers."

Well, that's what happened to my wife -- and it didn't just LOOK like lung tissue (so she says, I wasn't crazy brave enough to try it).

The co-worker also asked if she wouldn't mind giving the bottles back when we were done with the jam.  Classic!


Day 32


February 1: So it's February, and I said I was going to theme the days. I'm still trying to nail those down, but I got several great suggestions from Corey and Heidi, and I've been pulling from those lists as the week goes on. Mondays will be Sky Shots.

This was taken through the sun roof? moon roof? the window on the ceiling of my car.


Day 33


February 2: Tuesdays will reflect things I'm grateful for.

I'm grateful to live on the planet just far enough from the sun, with just the right amount of oxygen, and water and heat to sustain life. It seems, almost....miraculous...


Day 34


February 3: Wednesdays are reserved for the things I love. Emma is my kisser. She kisses everyone. It really gets a little ridiculous sometimes.

But, I always make an exception for my own cheek.


Day 35


February 4: And Thursday's will be for the things I hate.

I wasn't sure I could find four things that I hate -- I just don't waste time hating things. But I found one this week. I HATE being dirty.

And I'm dirty all the time now.

Could someone please invent a cleaner form of carbon? That's your assignment for next week!


Well folks, you've made it 35 days! I'm so proud of you!!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

It's a Major Award!

My new friend, Emmy, over at One Day at a Time, has bestowed an award upon me. Emmy is a flute playing, Fossil wearing, Mac loving, true blue BYU fan. That makes her practically perfect. But there's more: Emmy is a mother of two beautiful children (one of which is a red headed little heart melter), and she'll be bringing another beautiful little soul into the world later on this year. If you don't know Emmy, swing by, and bask in the comfortable warmth of her view on the world.

Emmy has awarded me the Happy 101 award. I love this one. Happiness means a lot to me, and if any of you out there ever leave my blog with a smile, then my work is done.

The rules of acceptance are:

1. Thank the person giving the award.

THANKS EMMY!

2. Copy the award to your blog.


Done.

3. Place a link to their blog.

4. Name 7 things that people don't know about you. (See below)

5. Nominate 7 bloggers.

6. Place a link to those bloggers.

7. Leave a comment, letting those bloggers know about the award.

Seven things you don't know about me...

Hmmm...that's hard. What haven't I told you?

You know I sleep with slippers on. You know I sleep with a stuffed penguin. You know I once squirted "Devil's Spit" hot sauce up my nose. You know I walked in on my wife on our honeymoon, while she was sitting on the toilet, and asked her, in my sexiest voice, what she was doing. You know I once rode my bike into the side of the house, at full speed, because I failed to understand the principle of inertia and thought the rubber tires would make me bounce off the wall. You know I once put a giant suction cup on my chest, and gave myself a hickey that lasted for three months....what else is there....

1. I changed the side that I part my hair on when I was twenty. (Boy, I'm reaching...) This was facilitated  by the fact that I thought that a half inch was much longer than it actually is, and after I ran the clippers down the center of my head, I was pretty much committed to shaving the rest of it off. It seemed like a good time for a fresh start. 

2. Despite the fact that I'm a pretty good speller, it just took me five tries to spell fascillitated, I mean facillitated, I mean fasilitated, I mean facsillitated, I mean facilitated, in that last paragraph. 

3. My life was saved, miraculously, when I was a newborn. 

4. I used to rollerblade inside the empty post office, in the middle of the night, across the street from the convenience store I was working at, in Cedar City, Utah -- while I was supposed to be minding the store. 

5. I'm a direct descendant of Charlemagne -- so say the geneaologists. 

6. I taught myself the guitar and the piano, but I really want to learn the fiddle. 

7. As a child, I ate butter by the stick. This makes me want to throw up, every time I think about it. Go ahead, say it: "That explains everything!"

As for the rest of the requirements, give me a couple of days to come up with a good list of bloggers. 

In the mean time, I have a question -- if I were to make an award out of this:


Would you:

A. Accept it?

B. Not be offended by it?

C. Post it proudly on your blog?

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Advice I might not always give.

I'm in a mood.

I don't know if you would call it reflective, or nostalgic, or contemplative, or goofy -- but I feel the need to pass on some advice to my children, that I might not otherwise share. So, I thought I'd write it down before the mood passes.

To my children,

Life is short.

You don't realize this yet. But before you know it, you'll be staring down the barrel of forty, you'll have a spouse and a mortgage and kids of your own. You'll have responsibilities and cares. That's the way of life, and it's okay. In fact, it can be wonderful. But, right now, you're very lucky -- childhood is a precious gift. Mine certainly was, and if I could grant you one wish right now, it would be for you to have the magical childhood that I had.


There are things that I want you to do....but not necessarily while I'm watching...


My advice to you is to stomp in the rain puddles. Make the biggest splash you can.


Pour glue into the palm of your hand, let it dry and peel away your new skin.


Eat snow. White snow.


Climb higher than you think you can. Higher than you think I would want you to.


Play with your food.


Run fast and walk slow.


Jump out of a swing.


Destroy your toys in creative ways (just not your new toys).


When you play games, make up your own rules.


Dream big dreams. You may never be an astronaut, or a secret agent or a superhero, but aim in that direction.


If you find something that needs coloring, color it.

Get dirty.

Get wet.

Sing out loud.

Sneak a kiss, when you get the chance.

Make good friends and big plans.

Build rockets and dig for dinosaurs and have tea parties.

If it's beautiful, stop and look at it a little longer. If it's not beautiful, make it so.

Dance badly, but enthusiastically.

Get to know your world -- hold it, taste it, feel it, take it apart, put it back together (disregard the left over parts), conquer it, stand in awe of it.

Hold every experience in your heart, and make memories.

Write a grand story. Tonight you have my permission.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Listen!....Do you smell something?

The 80's

Just writing those words, like, gags me with a spoon!

I HATE the 80's. The neon colors make me want to wash my eyeballs with clorox. The hair was a fire hazard. The parachute pants make me want to take a long leap off a short pier. The music makes, what's left of the hair on my arm, bristle. The Brat Pack should have been sent to bed without supper.


The 1980's were the most self indulgent, paper thin, phony, superficial time in history. Yes, in HISTORY! I've done the research. I get queasy every time I see Molly Ringwald, or Andrew McCarthy. On that odd occasion that I pass by a radio blaring some 1980's inanity (Wham! or The Thompson Twins or Tears for Fears or......) I go looking for an ice pick to poke holes in my ear drums. I HATE the 80's!

So...

WHY CAN'T I LEAVE THEM ALONE?!

The problem is iTunes.


I'll log on to the iTunes store, innocently searching for some obscure song I heard in the credits of some television show the night before and, INEVITABLY, some title of some 80's song will catch my eye. I try to resist -- already knowing where this path lies. But it keeps calling to me...

"Chriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssss. ChrrrrriiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiisssssssssss. Click on me. Please. I'm not like the other stupid songs. I love you. And you love me. We complete each other. Go ahead.....everybody's doing it...."

And, I click.

And then I click on another, and another, and another -- and hours go by. What starts with "Don't Stop Believin'" from the Glee soundtrack becomes the original version from Journey. From Journey it's a quick step to "The Search is Over" by Survivor. From Survivor to Bryan Adams, from Bryan Adams to Cheap Trick to Eddie Money to Europe.

EUROPE!

I bought "Carrie" by Europe today. This is how low I have sunk. I also bought "Walk like an Egyptian" by the Bangles. And..."Lost in your Eyes" by Debbie Gibson!!!!


Would you like to hear the worst part?

I've actually been listening to them, because...

I kind of like them. Please don't tell anyone. 

I'm actually craving LOVE BOAT reruns! I need a therapist -- or at least some commiseration. They say misery loves company...

So I'm going to throw out a few obscene words to get you started and drag you down with me:


Like a Virgin, Huxtable, Beat it, Weird Science, Ferris, Bangles, Don't Worry, Be Happy, Starship, Air Supply, Tiffany, Lionel Richie, Bonnie Tyler, Alex P. Keaton, Shout, Duran Duran, Care Bears, Milli Vanilli, Every Rose Has it's thorn, You give love a bad name, Pour some sugar on me in the name of love, NORM!, The Final Countdown, Whatchoo talkin' 'bout Willis, I pity the fool! De Plane!, Excellent!, Bogus!, Condorman!, Sweep the leg, Wax on Wax off, Nobody puts Baby in a corner, Footloose, Need input, We are the world, Never tear us apart, I know you're out there somewhere, Time after time, Crazy for you, Don't dream it's over, I can feel it coming in the air tonight, denim, ghetto blaster, break dance...

I think that's enough.


Are you secretly, or not so secretly, crushing on the 80's? Do you have friendship bracelets and jelly shoes? When no one is looking, do you spray your bangs into a CLAW? Do you like to walk like an egyptian? Would you wear Spandex all day, every day -- if it wasn't a capital crime? Let's play word association: I'll say

"The 80's"

And you say...

Friday, January 29, 2010

Random Memories: The Hut



Eventually, these random memories will find a more permanent home on another blog that my best friend Aaron, and I are working on (well, supposed to be anyway)...

Did you have a clubhouse when you were a kid? Aaron and I built one in my back yard one summer (we also dug for dinosaur bones, and buried Gobots in the garden), and for some odd reason, I find myself thinking of it tonight. Here's what I remember...

A clubhouse to last for the ages. We were the first. The pioneers. The trail blazers. After we built The Hut (we didn't call it the clubhouse), everyone else and their dog decided that they needed some kind of clubhouse for themselves. And all theirs turned out better than ours. But there is something to be said for being the first.

We hauled scrap wood from all over the neighborhood (and beyond) and with our very limited understanding of construction, we built the ugliest hut ever. It looked like an outhouse built for two. Thinking back, I wish we would have cut a little moon in to the door -- for the limited time that we had a door. The thing I was most proud of was the fact that it had an upstairs. We had such big plans for The Hut that first summer -- we were going to sleep out there, and hold all of our clandestine meetings inside. Of course, like a lot of the big plans we had (Project Euphoria), it was more fun to plan than to actually carry out.


Sleeping in The Hut was really out of the question. First of all, it was only about six feet square. Secondly, it was so hot inside -- it was like solitary confinement in some Vietnamese POW camp.

The other great innovation was to build a sloping roof, with a little platform on the front -- just right for jumping off of, on to the trampoline (which was really it's primary purpose for most of it's existence).

I often wish I had a picture of the monstrosity.

What indelible memories do you have from your childhood?

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Photostory Friday: 365 Week 4

PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily

Day 22


January 22: We're all friends here, right? What happens at "Life...or a Reasonable Facsimile Thereof" stays at "Life...or a Reasonable Facsimile Thereof"?

I once confessed here that I sleep in socks and slippers. Well, there's more. This is Opus. Sharon gave him to me in my stocking on our first Christmas -- fifteen years ago, and sometimes I tuck him in the corner of my elbow, when I sleep.

This is just between us, right?


Day 23


The second phase of my electric guitar/decoupage project. Stay tuned for the final reveal!


Day 24


January 24: Welcome to our home! Sorry about the hair.


Day 25


January 25: Why do I take all the coolest pictures hanging the camera out the window, on the way home from work?


Day 26


January 26: This is what time it was when I stopped playing with my Raisinettes (that just sounds wrong), and decided to take a picture.


Day 27


January 27: This is not the greatest picture, but I wanted to document the event.

This is my right forearm (we come from Swedish stock, we are hairy men, I apologize). After an incident at work Wednesday afternoon -- involving a self inflating pack of exploding foam insulation -- I had to shave my right forearm, with a straight razor blade.

With my left hand.

It was more like hacking, than shaving.

It took an hour and a half.

It was the closest thing I can imagine to being tarred and feathered.

You don't realize just how hairy your arms are, until you shave one of them -- and neither does anyone else. Today (Thursday), I felt like a woman with new breast implants. Everyone talked to my arm.

HEY! My eyes are up here buddy!


Day 28


January 28: Any guesses?



365
Hosted by Chris





Wednesday, January 27, 2010

The iPad

Um....yep







Pretty sure I'm gonna need one of these.