because I really can't get enough of myself

My husband likes to read the dictionary. I know, I don't get it either. But then again, I don't read dictionaries as a hobby. The thesaurus? Yeah, maybe....in the bathroom.....if I've already counted all the bumps on the wall....and the ceiling.....usually I'm just not in there long enough. Which is probably why my vocabulary is so diminutive. My 100th post is coming up soon. I'm wondering whether to celebrate it or not. Of course it's just the 100th on this blog. When I reached the magical number on my family blog I didn't realize that it was something to be recognized and totally missed it. But then again, what makes the 100th post so special anyway? I wonder if anyone will deliver balloons? Or flowers, perhaps? I would prefer chocolates actually. But I have a few more posts to go before all this happens. And since I haven't really decided on anything especially particular, it may just go by with no deliveries or hullabaloo of any kind. ...

I'm in a horribly mundane mood, and can't even muster a blog worthy thought. Yet, I still feel like blogging. I really hate when this happens. But - lucky you - I sat down and brainstormed for like 35 hours and came up with a fantastic topic: FEET That's right, I can think of lots of stuff (or a few things, whatever) about feet. So here you go: I'm not a foot fan. They gross me out. I love little tiny baby feet. And I will even kiss little tiny baby feet. Little tiny baby feet are stinking adorable. But then they grow. I will tickle toddler feet. As long as they're clean, and not sweaty or fresh out of shoes or anything, I can handle tickling toddler feet. I force myself to cut the toenails on my Kindergartner's feet. I will only do it right after her bath, and still I have to hold back the gagging. Five year old feet just aren't kissable nor tickle-able anymore. To me. That is. I make my husband wear socks to bed. Ok, it's his choice. But l...

We took the kids to Disneyland last week. It was stinking magical. My favorite souvenir from the trip is my lingering and ever torturous cold turned sinus infection. Thank you, germs, and the lazy blood cells that I like to call my immune system. ANYWAYS... I decided that there are 3 types of kids at Disneyland. And that it's possible for one child to actually go through each type in phases, but mostly speaking they stick to one. TYPE 1: The Excited Child This is the kid that you see wandering around with glossy eyes taking in the magic that is Disneyland. The type of kid who runs up to the characters for hugs and dances dreamily through the crowded walk-ways. These children really believe that they are in some kind of enchanted land, even during the eating of an overpriced, yet not so fabulous corndog. I firmly believe that ALL children should be this way, but sadly it is not so. TYPE 2: The Whatever Child This is the kid who doesn't care where he is and passively takes...

I won't do the cruel 5 day waiting thing, so here it is. Oh yeah, and don't forget to read part one , or you're going to be really confused. How I Met my Husband: PART 2 I was in a pickle. My options were: stay where I was, have two great jobs, live by my friends and hang out with the really funny guy with cool shoes OR move to a tiny town in another state, have no friends, and hike around in the horrible woods all day shocking fish. Yes, that’s right, SHOCKING FISH. Because that’s what summer crews do. Because it is vitally important to us as a species to know how many fish are in random streams. (It probably is important, but I was more into cool shoes and PARTTEEEEE-ing.) It kind of sounds like a no brainer, right? Stay with the great jobs and friends, right? Enjoy the next 6 months and earn money, RIGHT? I love it when life works out perfectly. Except that I knew that I needed to move away and shock fish. I knew it. The Lord couldn’t have been more clear if...

A few months ago I said that I met my husband through a psychic Oreo - which was a lie, you know. So I thought you'd like to hear the real story. I actually have it all written out anyways. And today I'm feeling dull - but I also feel like posting something. The two feelings cannot successfully go together. Unless, of course, you already have it all written out. But it's really long. So you'll probably get it in parts. Maybe a sentence at a time. I'm not really sure. Let's just play this by ear, shall we? How I Met my Husband: PART 1 After two whopping years of college I was ready to take a break. Because, TWO whopping years. Whew. Hard work. But I felt like my break should be for a reason – so, you know, I didn ’t look overly lazy for having only completed 2 years of college. (If it counts I did get an Associates Degree – I’m not totally useless in the education department.) I was also a good little Mormon girl so I knew that to take a socially worthwhile...