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.

S-U-N

So, I've been singing, "Mr sun, sun golden yellow sun in my head all day." Thank you Barney. With that said I've decided to take this opportunity to give a shout out to the sun, and tell him just how much I appreciate his presence in my life. For real, it makes me so happy to have him on my face. He allows me to take my child out for some much needed runnin' around. Sun is a dear friend of mine, and warms not only my bod but my soul.

Because of my dear friend the sun, I can actually get out and enjoy the fall; the trees, the cool air, the mass amount of leaves that have invaded the ground, with their colors red, yellow, orange, purple. Those crunchy leaves are everywhere.


I may go as far to say that if my dear friend the sun could stick around and continue his warming of my heart/spirit/face I wouldn't be mad. I may even get out more, swing my legs off a bridge and not even think about jumping, just swinging. (Although the colder the water, the less likely the jumping, but that's entirely beside the point.)Isn't it?


The point is if I could bottle up the sun and release him in full force daily between the hours of 9:30 and 12:30 I would. I'd release the hell out of him. I'd be all, "hey everyone here's our sun. Go play outside, go enjoy your lives, and this guy, my friend. The SUN." The rest of the day there would still be sun don't get me wrong,it'd just be especially sunny at those particular hours. Not sunburn sunny, but the kind of sun that makes you think of riding your bike barefoot down to the lake, feeling the wind in your hair, and the glorious, miraculous sun on your warm face.
So sun, here's your shout out, you're not only my boy, you're my man, SUN GUY, and I love you.