My Faux Thanksgiving,,,,

Dear blogging world, last night I had the joy of having faux Thanksgiving dinner (Actually it was my sister's [sister pictured here, isn't she pretty?] birthday dinner, but who's to say it can't act as both)?

Let's begin with me explaining why I needed a faux Thanksgiving dinner. Once I heard about the enticing time and a half pay at work, added on top of the 3 year old being with his father, I saw no sense in wasting this wonderful working opportunity.

It was really an all day event for me. I spent most of the day in the kitchen preparing different things, which I don't like doing everyday, but every once in awhile this can make me feel quite good about life on the whole. The other fabulous thing about this faux night was all my siblings were there. There was no turkey but there was deliciousness in other forms. Mind you the food was not my favorite part, which I don't say about very many meals (Welcome to the mind of a chubby kid). My favorite part was the many slightly awkward moments that passed in our conversation. Where to start? . .. . .. .. . . .
(Mini cupcakes, all 60 frosted and coated with sprinked deliciousness).

Earlier the same day the 3 year old had been holding a plastic cup with jellybeans in it, and was making an awful lot of noise jumping around shaking it. While doing this he was singing, "Shake, shake shake, shake your penis." Obviously teaching the anatomically correct parts to a 2 year old can and does/did backfire. This lead into talk about the correct thing to call body parts. Now, obviously our special parts don't have pretty names let's not kid ourselves, however leave it to my mother to decide that "Twat" was a better name to call our lady parts than anything else. "Twat" really? As if the vagina needed an uglier name than it already has. This was decided at the dinner table over cord on bleu, thanks mom!! Would you like a little twat talk with your salad anyone?

My junior high trauma was also brought up. Which one you ask? ....Well, in 7th grade two friends and I decided we would try out for choir. For those of you who have heard me sing you can understand my voice is not one to be shared in a non sarcastic setting. Its not good. To make matters worse I sang "You Lie" by Reba MCentire. For those of you who have never heard this song please go you tube it now. I'll wait. .. .. . .. .. A very high pitched song, no? Very high. No one tried to stop me from humiliating myself by singing a song that was way out of my range. Not a soul. And no, I didn't make choir, thank you very much!! So, we revisited this moment just so I would know it was remembered. You know the moment I've spent years trying to forget.

Someone had asked me earlier in the week if my brothers were gorgeous, I brought this to the table's attention to get every one's opinions. My sister decided their beauty was only skin deep. She said this out loud, mostly because the girl's mother who told my sister, mother and I that our beauty was only skin deep was sitting at the table. She didn't get it. For the record my outlandishly obvious, remarkable unexplainable beauty is, for the record, only skin deep. At least I'm in good company with my family being in the same boat though.(one of the brothers in question.)


The night ended with a dance. This for once was not my doing. It was better than my doing. It was my sister in law's outrageous, well rehearsed sexy stripper dancing. She waited until all but me and my bro had cleared out. After she had taken off her coat and thrust it to the floor she proceeded to go down into a squat against the wall as if it were a pole. As if this in and of itself weren't good enough my dad walked out of the bathroom at just that moment. Picked up her coat for her as she picked herself off the ground. She shamefully took the coat, as well as my applause!!!(the other brother in question, as well as his wife. You know the one with the moves. Don't let the babies fool you, she's no uptight mommy).


My point is my Faux Thanksgiving/sister's b-day dinner kicked ass. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!!

With much Love, Amy

I ate, and ate and then. .. ..well you get the idea.

I had the absolute pleasure of going to "A Taste of Salt Lake" last Saturday at Grand America Hotel, and I gotta tell you it was the best night I've had in ages.

There was food EVERYWHERE!!! It literally lined the walls, it surrounded me, it engulfed me, then I engulfed it. I got to dress up. Not the Halloween kind of dress up, which I also love. The fancy kind, which is initially stressful, but turns wonderful.



So, So, the event was a fundraiser for cystic fibrosis, and there were auctions going on and such. Multiple restaurants were there dishing out some of their signature dishes, just in little sample sizes, which was perfectly dangerous. Every time I returned to the table I was carrying 2 plates. I'm not joking. I literally ate/drank myself silly. I was a giggling stuffed woman by the end of the night. It was spectacular!!

This is after the eating.... I told you,feeling good.

These were the most delicious strawberries, I LOVED them. I ate 3 of them, and could've eaten more. They were SO GOOD!!!



I got my picture with these girls. Look how little they are, I could just put them in my pocket. . .. .

Some of the restaurants that were there Thaifoon, P.F Changs, Log Haven, La Caille, The Melting Pot, Tuscany, The Roof, Rodizio, Flemings, Cafe Niche, Nothing Bundt Cakes, etc. etc. etc..... ETC....

My point is if you ever get the chance to go to this event do not turn it down. I tell you, you will not regret going.

Admission

So, I'm finally ready to say it out loud. I am a fitness dvd whore.

I feel some explanation is in order. You see, my gym membership ran out 4 months ago, or so. And with my life being the way it is, all unsettled, unsure and up in the air I have not yet gotten a new one, not life (well that too), gym membership. What's the point really of renewing when who knew where I'd be?

With summer approaching at the time I figured it was a perfect time to have no gym membership weighing me down and dooming me to 4 hours a week (well probably less) inside, the world could be my gym. I could run on the streets and at the track. I could do lunges across the field, I could lift.......... things. I could stay fit without my beloved treadmill. Right?

So, I have been without a gym membership. So what's become of me?
Well I only run twice a week, for 2 solid reasons #1 when I have the opportunity to go, its hot. #2 Hey child, how about you sit in a non-running stroller for an hour or so? What that's not fun for you? What? You weigh 40 pounds. Oh, never mind, no running with you. Oh yes and the 3rd, (counting is hard) the other option would be getting up early, however I no longer go to bed early on a regular basis so I don't love the idea.

So this is where we are. I have been doomed after all to a life of working out inside to fitness dvds. I've become this fitness dvd expert in MANY MANY ways. I get 2 new dvds from the local library every week, sometimes 3 if I'm feeling really crazy. I search amazon for great deals on fitness dvds. I read reviews on line and in fitness magazines about the best of these dvds, then I seek them out.

When you first begin doing a workout it feels hard because your body and muscles aren't used to the exercise, but after a while it becomes easier, so you have to up your workout, do 2 dvds, be more intense. Keep moving if they stop on the video. Do extra sets pausing the tv if you have to. I've begun picking my favorite bits from each video and switching them after the set is over to another video. So, I'll get an hour in, but have to take breaks to switch the movie.

I find myself wishing for some program that would allow me to combine all these smaller parts of the workout into one dvd that I can love, but change it daily to fit my mood, requirements, etc. In conclusion if this is out there please tell me about it, so my fitness dvd whoreish ways can be made easy, effortless, versatile and amazingly unique each day.

This is just some of the many I have at my house right now.

I see no way around this dvd craze other than waiting an actual stable life taking over my current one. Ahhh, stability. Which brings me to my next point at home fitness stuff isn't too expensive weights, jump ropes, stability balls, stretch cords, kettle bells, the large amount of junk in my trunk which adds to the body weight resistance factor. Why do I mention this? Is it to lure you fancy gym goers into becoming a dvd skank like myself? No. Because then all the good exercise dvds at the library will be checked out when I want them, then how can I jump from one program to the next with the greatest of ease?

So, anyone need any good fitness dvd workout recommendations? You know who to talk to.

So lately, things have been shitty. Okay beyond shitty. What's beyond shitty, you may ask. I'll tell you. It's landfill naked shitty. Not only do I have shitty to deal with, but I'm in a landfill with all its discusting garbage and I myself smell like poop, (or to go along the theme, shit). (But for some reason I think the word "shit" is uglier than "shitty", is that weird)?

Anyway, things are bad. So beyond the constant, uncontrollable weeping that can happen over just about anything, and by that, I mean over everything. There's this accompanying stressed out feeling like my life is doomed and always has been, and probably always will be. Why am I doomed? Weep, weep. Along with the stress 3 monsterous zits have taken over the entire right side of my face, which causes more stress, and more of the damnned weeping.

I no longer sleep, and when I do there's these strange dreams about my own doom-ed-ness. There's no real escape unless I stay really busy and give myself ONE MILLION things to do. Even then it can happen, the weeping. I've found that reading helps as long as the book is captivating enough. So really any amazing book suggestions would be a ton of help.

So as I sit in my own self loathing/sorrow/hatred/misery/beyond shitty-ness one has to wonder what makes it worth it?

You're Late

So on a recent cleaning stint of my old bedroom I found a letter from my old days working at The Hilton. After reading this letter you will realize that we not only had some free time on our hands, but we chose to use it wisely. The letter read:

Dearest Lamey,

I am distressed that you were not on time for your scheduled shift this morning. I don't know how to emphasize the importance of punctuality to you, but your co-workers were disturbed and weeping due to your lack of consideration for not only your job but your teammates were also let down today. I'm not sure why you've chosen to hurt everyone in this way, but the insanity stops here. Even frequent guests were questioning your whereabouts and I was forced to lie and say that an unfortunate surgery mishap took place and you wanted a professional to look at your new and extra appendages. This fooled them temporarily, but the fact that I'm going to Hell for having to lie on your behalf is more than I can take. I hope you're happy with the decisions you're making today, and the effects it had on the entire staff as well as hotel guests. To make up for the 10 minutes of agony we all had to go through we ask that you complete the following survey that has nothing to do with being late or work related instances. We do however ask that you do complete this in a timely manner to prove you're a changed woman who is sorry for her behaviors.

1. Do you pee in the pool or get out?

2. If you DO pee in the pool do you blame someone else?

3. Which of these do you think make better combinations pickle monkey, squirrel toast, or band-aid juice?

4. Have you now or ever thought of Manica as more than just a friend?

5. Are you uneasy when it snows or rains?

6. When driving do you look in the rear view mirror and pick your nose hoping no one is looking? Never mind don't answer that I saw you once and have never felt the same about yo since.

I hope this taught you a valuable lesson regarding your tardiness. Please remember we are all counting on you Amy, please don't let us down again.

Thank You,
Clock Watcher Staff # 4



My one question upon reading this was how more employers have not implemented this into their tardy policies. If an employee is 10 minutes late they have to fill out a meaningless yet insightful survey. 15-20 minutes late they must choreograph a short yet meaningful dance which incorporates maracas. 20-30 they must throw together a fund raiser in 30 minutes or less, if they don't raise more than $500 for a local food bank during this fund raiser, they're fired. That's all I'm sayin'.

Growing up, Growing old, Growing Restless

Awhile back I went out to dinner with some girls/women/peeps from high school. We do dinners to celebrate birthdays, I love going, and talking and catching up. There's something so nice about seeing friends who I grew up with, and have known for so long. The drama of high school is gone, we have kids, relationships, jobs, hobbies, and varied interests. Everything has changed in our lives, but friendships remain.

Anyway, after that long, dragged out explanation, age was brought up, (we were celebrating a birthday after all.) This got me thinking about late teens/early 20's, and the mentality that filled my brain. I was trying to figure out life, myself, relationships, people, and the world. To be honest it was overwhelming at times, and I was so naive, to well. .. .. everything.

I spent college dating guys who weren't good for me, or to me at times. I feel at times I have spent my life trying to capture the attention of that special someone only to realize what an ass they actually were, how frustrating. Maybe we've all been there, not really understanding what it was we would actually gain, but knew we wanted........ something.

I feel lately like I'm in a funk. I want more in my life. I want it all. I want a good job that I'm proud of. I want to be a good mom, I want to be proud of educational accomplishments. I want to be smart, and interesting. I want a solid foundation to stand on. I want to not be so selffish. I want to be fit. I want to cook well, and read good books, and have insightful things to say about them. I want to burst into dance at random intervals and not care who's watching. I want someone who'll dance with me.

Five years ago my life was different. My goals, aspirations, and perspectives were on a much different level. I want more now, I expect more out of myself. Which makes me wonder what's going to happen in another five years. What will I want then? When will I step back and look at my life, and say, yeah I'm doing good I'm where I want to be I'm content?

I often wonder if anyone else feels this restlessness that is my constant companion. I wonder if it'll ever go away. Or if the older I get the worse it'll become. I look at these friends I have known for several years, and some of us are in the same places and some of us are not. I sometimes wish I knew someone once felt this way and now no longer does. I want to know that it'll go away with the next degree or the big job, or a good book, or a race well run. I want to know that eventually I'll be able to stop searching.

Happiness!!!! LA la la loooo mmmmmm...

MY list of happy things in no particular order:

- A good Run

- Crepes with fresh strawberries buried in the middle

- Car dancing
- Kitchen dancing
-Bathroom Mirror dancing
-Bedroom dancing, no not that kind, I mean actual dancing here people.

- Frightened Rabbitt, my new favorite band obsession

-When the little boy dresses himself, it can be quite ridiclious and quite entertaining

- A good pair of jeans

- My bed, my deliciously comfortable, amazing bed

- Laughing about silly things with my girlfriends

- Texting nonsense to pass time at work

-Reading a good book

-The possibility of a new adventure

-Traveling to new places

-Sitting on the beach

-My beach cruiser, I miss you Lady, and hope to ride you soon

- When I have a good hair day

- Dresses, don't tell anyone I put on a sour face like I hate them, but seriously don't mind having an occasional occasion to wear them

- The feeling after a good workout

- Visiting new restaurants

-Talking to the lil boy in the mornings when he comes in my bed, and still being amazed about the things he says

- My Life as Liz, yes the MTV show, I love that girl

HAPPY DAY ALL!!!

Cardio is my calm

It always seemed strange to me growing up my mother would tell me if it hadn't been for swimming when I was little she'd of had me on Ritalin. Really. My mother said this to me. She says lots of things to me, nice things, mean things, complimentary things, honest things. I can count on her to give it to me straight, and sometimes the truth hurts.
I never really got what she meant until I was done swimming, and didn't have the luxury/obligation/ to swim everyday twice a day. To ingest chlorine. To soak it in my skin, to live for swimming. To dive into a cold pool day after day, and feel guilty and not quite right if I missed this wonderful/dreadful first shock of that cold water on my mostly naked body.
Where was I going with this? .. ....

Of yes, I didn't get what the woman, (my mother) meant by her very forward, probably true Ritalin comment until I had finished my swimming "career." I found this calm in the water that I took for granted because it was there everyday. The quietness of being underwater is surreal. Because when you come up and there and 40 swimmers in motion the water is not calm, the swim pool deck itself is not a quiet place. But there's a rhythm to it, the constant splashing of water. The breathing, the echoes. Its like a different world co-existing two inches apart. Amazing.

I find this calm more so now when I go to swim, because most of the time I go alone, and when I come up there aren't 40 others keeping the rhythm. As I'm gliding through the water I just feel powerful and strong, and like this is for me. Not for a team or a time or a meet, its just for me. Recently while training for a half marathon ("halfy", as I lovingly refer to it, to close family and friends) I've found a similar calm in running. On days my run has a possibility of getting cancelled due to life, I get stressed and cranky, and kind of mean. I need the run. My body craves it, then hates me for it after, silly body.



I'm out there running for me, and yes it is for a race, but its for me. It calms my soul, it puts perspective into my day, and into my life. I find it funny, in my nerd-ish sort of way, that pounding up and down on pavement would bring a calm to my life, but it does. I love the pounding. I love the rhythm. I love sticking in my ipod and worrying about nothing but running, it clears my mind. Some people have meditation, some religion, some drugs and alcohol, (maybe I shouldn't have put that one right after religion, my mother may have something to say about that one. I wonder if she reads this.)For me, my escape, where I find my calm, my center is in exercise.

To put aside the world, obligations, concerns, worries, etc., for an hour to do something just for me makes a world of difference. It makes me a happier person. It makes me more focused, and more patient. So once in awhile being self fish pays off. So on I'll run, or swim, or plyo it up. Because in the end I'll be calmer, more centered (and have a hot ass, which makes me happy too).

The woman at the Gym

At the gym the other day I experienced a good chuckle, that had nothing to do with my gym skills. It was a typical Sunday morning, (well sort of, I normally spend my Sunday mornings at work, beside the point, carrying on), I began on the treadmill, like I do. Just minding my own business, running, messing with the pod, and I looked up to the front row of treadmills, to see a woman I recognized. We're not friends or anything she's just been around the gym circuit. She had gotten off the treadmill she was running on, I thought maybe she was going to get a drink, because she had left the treadmill on. However, she began pacing, did she just get off the treadmill to pace? Yes, yes she did. She got back on and began Miley style, hands up. She was dancing, shaking her booty, and her hands were flailing around in the air. Wow!! That woman is dancing right there in the front row of the treadmills.

She eventually began to run again. So I didn't notice her, until she repeated the same drill, off the treadmill to pace, while the treadmill forges on full speed ahead. I was laughing out loud, sadly I knew no one in close proximity to share this moment with. It was gold, people, gold...!!!
I of course at this had no choice but to continue watching her, I figured I have forty minutes on this treadmill what else am I doing? The woman had a wedgie, was she afraid to pick it? No she was not. It was a deep dig, it was up there. It took her not once, or twice, or three times, NO 4 times!!!!! 4 deep digs to get this wedgie out of her ass. She got it though. She was persistent. I personally wanted to yell some encouragement to her. Come on lady dig deeper. You can get it!!! After each failed attempt I was so sad, but she kept trying. What an inspiration to wedgie sufferers everywhere, who feel as if they can't pick them out, she did it!!So can you.

A few points I'd like to reiterate: The woman got off the treadmill to PACE..... she left the treadmill running full speed, and GOT OFF the treadmill to pace. .. . ? WHAT????? I had to say this again.

Also, once I got off my treadmill to get a closer look, (and to pace) I was so ecstatic to discover this woman wore no headphones, she was dancing to the beat in her head. People, she was shaking what her mama gave her like she was in a club, and yet she wore no headphones. HELLO!!! I'm still laughing about this.

She got off the treadmill to pace. Do you get how ridiculous this is? Anyone?

Wait I have a wedgie.. Almost got it,, ,, ,,. .. Almost. Okay. Oh no it's back. Now, okay. I'm good.

Why I could never be homeless, BY: Amy

So it all began at 4:50 a.m on a cold Friday morning in the Salt Lake City Airport, tucked away in a dirty breakroom. I trudged into work, groggy, unhappy to be there, and brain function at only about 2 percent. Like I always do, walked to my locker ready to prepare myself further for the cold by adding a few more layers to my already layered body. Then something happened, my locker lock was GONE!!! My brain quickly jumped up to 4 percent, I opened the locker to find it empty, EMPTY!!! Brain kicks up 5 percent, what has happened to my shi***)(? Who took my shi**&"? I began to inquire with the few other brave folks who chose to work at the butt crack of dawn. My lock had been cut off with others, others who were no longer working there...... HMMM.... ..Have I been fired? Am I on Office Space? Am I being phased out?
I went about my duties quite cold dawning only one half of the layers I would've liked to have. My hands, head, and body froze against the cold wind, brain power down to 4 percent. Curse words against said training woman who theived my layers, how dare she try and phase me out?

Doesn't she know who I am?

Around 7:30 a.m when the uppers had finally joined us at work, I followed her (said theif) to her office to retrieve my things. My things were given back to me in a large plastic garbage bag. Really? This is what my things have been reduced to? A garbage bag. That's fine. I'll be going now, and I'm taking my garbage. ... . . . Things, with me.

I left head held high, massive garbage sack slung over my shoulder. I had to go through the massive crowds in the airport. Yes, carrying my garbage sack. AWESOME!!!!

I have no idea how I got so much stuff into one little locker. It was a lot of stuff, and not a lot of locker.

This experience has given me a new perspective on my life, yes thats right. I really could never drag my stuff around in garbage sacks. Not only because its degrading, and heavy, but because I have a lot of shi. . . .***>>> ! It would take several grocery carts worth of stuff for me to be homeless. I would be required to set up some sort of pulley device around my waist that connected all the carts together.


Just think during the day when I'd be wandering around looking for cans to change in for small change, it'd take several minutes for me and my carts to safely cross the street. People would be honking, and getting angry.
My back would be sore from the pulley, and I would probably be grouchy.
No one wants that.