Mother Load

Finally, I'm getting the pictures I've been promising. First up, the pirate party:

Here is my pirate family, paper hook and all. Note the scary bandanas. If we were actual pirates, people would jump overboard when they saw us. Ooh. Scary.



This is my niece, Abby with the treasure map that we used to march around the neighborhood. There was a brief argument and it was determined that the map was not drawn to scale.

Josh is carrying the inflatable sword that I wisely left with him as I ran back to my parents' house. I would be writing this from the Looney Bin had I been carrying it when I happened across the four teenagers.

This is my dad sword fighting with Josh. Note: the sword is INFLATABLE, so there's probably no reason to cower. However, it does look like four year old Josh has the upper hand. Also note that my dad is not wearing any pirate gear. Party Pooper.

This is us opening our treasure chest that we found under a stranger's deck. That's my brother Eric in the blue and my twin brother, Scott, with the sword. I'm not sure if Scott pushed his two girls out of the picture or what, but they aren't shown. If you can't be slightly insane grown adults canvassing through a stranger's yard looking for a styrofoam cooler full of yard toys in front of complete strangers at a public park, then who can you be a lunatic around? Notice Wade in the background without pirate gear as well. Party Pooper.

Next up is our trip to Vegas:

Because nothing says "classy" quite like Home of the World Famous Drive Up Wedding Window

Classic family protrait in a room sitting about 5. Funny story. The shirt Wade is wearing literally came off my dad's back. Wade didn't have a Hawaiian shirt to match the theme (either did I, but oh well) and my dad brought two with him (don't ask) and so he gave the one that matched Wade's slacks the best to wear and doned the other one. Unfortunately, he was wearing the one he was giving to Wade when I asked if Wade could wear it. Graciously, he gave it up. What a dad!

This is Eric, his wife, Eliza, and their little girl Halle. Halle thought this whole experience--Elvis included--was the most exciting thing to have happen to her in a long time. Doesn't that mural on the wall with the pillar transport your right to the middle of a woody area? Uh-huh.

Josh had a great time too. Evident by his smile. He thought it was a little weird though.

Aunika was having a blast! And really, who wasn't?

Since no photography was--technically--allowed in the chapel, you will have to settle for a picture of Elvis I found online. This is the actual guy that was at our wedding, though the girl in the pink bikini and the man in the cargo shorts were, unfortunately, not. Elvis looks slightly better in this picture than he did in our ceremony, but notice that he's actually singing to the ground. Elvis's coat in our ceremony was a horrendous shade of gold too. I'm kind of digging the pink jacket over the gold one. Sadly, this picture was taken in 2007, so we know that he's been with the chapel for at least two years. Judging by the decline in appearance from this picture to now, that's like eternity in Elvis years.

And lastly, our basement:

This is the family room. The blue things hanging down are the wires for the in-ceiling speakers.

Here's our fireplace.

This is where our television is going to go. And the projector. Eventually we're going to have both but I'm not sure which one will come first.

This is Wade's mammoth audiovisual closet where all the equipment is going to go.

This is going to be Josh's room.

Kidding.

This is the cold storage area for food storage. The picture doesn't do it justice, but it's huge.

This is a shot of the slot in the ceiling where our projector screen will retract into so it's not in the way.

We just found out yesterday that Comcast is coming to the neighborhood so now we'll be able to get the football games and we should be all set to hang out and never leave the house. Perfect. And maybe people will come visit us now.

$150 and 200 Miles Later

Pictures tomorrow. I promise. It's even on my to-do list.

There are certain holidays I like to commemorate with a 5k. Especially ones that involve a lot of food.

I do a 4th of July run, a 24th of July run, and a Thanksgiving Run. One of these years, I'm going to do the New Years Eve Run too but I'm still trying to find a running buddy crazy enough to do it with me.

This year I added the Harrington Memorial 5k. I have no idea who Harrington is/was, but it was a cheap (initially) 5k that started early in the morning, leaving my day wide open to do other things. And it was located in Utah County so I could run it with my sister-in-law, who then didn't run it after all. But it's all good.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that I could sign up online, so I did. Apparently, I signed up eight times. It kept giving me an error along the lines of "items in cart does not match items in check out. Please re-enter your information". I pride myself on being able to follow most(!) simple instructions. And so I re-entered my information. Again. And again. And again. I might have done it again, and again, and again and again as well.

Finally, I got mad and called the store. I mentioned my problem and they said "oh, don't do that. It will charge you every time."

Hey, thanks for mentioning that on your website!

So I got into my car and drove the 50 miles to the store in American Fork. Paid for my entry by check. When I asked how I'd get my generous contribution to Harrington back, they said I'd have to bring a bank statement in. Oiy.

So I visited some friends in Provo and then headed home. Went to Vegas. Came back home. Finally, $135 posted on my account. Of course, now I have the added problem of strange men climbing in and out of my basement window and I don't feel all that comfortable leaving them alone to fend for themselves in my humble abode. And so I call the store. And talk to the owner. And explain my problem. I'm an hour away and I have strange men in my house. He's sympathetic and offers to refund it all. Nice guy. Even apologized for the error. Which he should, because it was his website.

This morning I got up at a time I never knew existed on a holiday and headed down to the 5k. 50 miles again.

They started the mile run before and I watched someone run a sub-4 minute mile. It was pretty spectacular. He made it look so effortless and easy, I actually thought to myself "I could do that." Uh-huh. Not with my face bright red and my huffing and puffing at a 10 minute mile. But it was nice to dream for a minute there.

The 5k started and I ran the first mile in 8:46. About 20 seconds shy of my fastest single mile since having Aunika. Of course, it did help that it was downhill. But then mile 2 came. And it was uphill the entire way. So I lost all my advantage there, but I kept trudging along.

Mile three, we ran through the cemetary. At first I thought it was going to be a little creepy, running through the cemetary. But they had lined the pathway with American Flags and it turned out to make the entire run.

I ran the third mile slightly faster than the second mile, but not fast enough to reach my goal of a sub-30 minute 5k. I clocked in at 31:10. And then I had to turn around and walk the mile back to my car. They don't tell you about that on the entry form, that's for dang sure. Of course, it was another 15 minutes to add to my time before driving the 50 miles home and rejoining Wade with the kiddos, so I took my sweet time.

While I was running down the pathway in the cemetary lined with American Flags, I was reminded of all those that have given their lives to protect this great nation. My own grandfather was killed while serving the tiny town of Downey, Idaho as sheriff 45 years ago. It would have been an honor to have met someone so willing to to put his life on the line to protect the freedoms of a town of less than 600 people. I hear he was an amazing man. As with all that have lost their lives, whether on this soil or on foreign land, it never ceases to amaze me that there are people willing to do this for freedoms that I take for granted.

There are nations on this Earth that cannot have large gatherings of people to run a local 5k because a suicide bomber could make his way into the crowd. There are places where women are forbidden from running. There are locations where the world's fastest runners have been targeted for death because they belong to the "wrong" tribe.

There are a lot of things that are wrong in this country and I may not agree with what the current administration is doing or what the last administration failed to do, but I know that this is still the best nation to live in.

Take a moment to remember those who have given their lives to make yours just a little bit easier.

God Bless America!

The State of the Basement

Roughly a bazillion years ago, if you remember, we started finishing our basement.

I haven't updated much about it because nothing was really happening there for awhile. We got it framed and then Wade took eons to run wires (though to no fault of his own. He had school, and scouts, and a new baby, and work, and a wife going crazy) and then he insulated it. Finally, we got some bids on drywall, called our chosen firm last Wednesday. They delivered the sheetrock on Thursday and since we had to leave on Friday for Vegas, they arrived Tuesday at 1:00 to hang it.

I was a little skeptical that five guys would be able to hang all the drywall in half a day. Especially after I went down there at 1:15 to tell them something that I'd missed, and they were all sitting around in a circle eating lunch. But at 6:45 that night, they packed up, climbed through the window and set off for destinations unknown, with all our walls and ceilings in place. It was truly an amazing feat.

Thursday, the mud and taper guy showed up. I was sorta expecting a crew, with a company truck. But no, just one person. Nice guy. Speaks English. Works hard. Climbs in and out of windows.

Yes, apparently his preferred method of entering my home is through the basement window. Last night, and I'm not even sure of when, he must've climbed out and gone home. Shoeless. Because when I looked outside from my perch on the living room couch, I noticed that his nondescript truck--unless you're my neighbors, in which case it was a gray toyota tacoma being driven by a shoeless male in his early 30's seen climbing out of our basement window before Wade was home from work--was no longer there. When I went to investigate downstairs, I noticed that the pair of shoes he wore when he arrived yesterday morning (after Wade had left for work--I sense some explaining I'm going to have to do to the neighbors) were sitting underneath the window.

This morning, as I awaited the arrival of him again, Wade called from work asking if the mudder was there yet. When I replied no, he hung up to call the mudder to get a time estimate of when he'd be arriving. Then I heard a strange ring and a man talking in my house. Startled, I ran downstairs, and there was the mudder guy. Working.

Awkward.

Since I heard no doorbell or knock at the front door and we have no chimney for the mudder to slide down to gain access to our basement, I can only assume he climbed in through the window. Which makes for a very interesting story to tell to the neighbors.

Later, I was outside working in the yard, when he appeared from around the corner of the house, having climbed out of the basement, to ask a question.

So weird.

However, I will take photos of the progress after he leaves (even more awkward to go down there while he's working and take pictures) and post them with the promised pictures from Vegas and, if I can get a hold of my mom to email them, some pictures from our Pirate Birthday Bash, so one can truly appreciate the embarassment we endured. My next entry will be a Picture Bonanza.

Evaluator of the Night

Yeah, that's right. I'm a speaking diva.

One of the portions of a Toastmaster's meeting is to stand up and offer an evaluation of a speaker. Each speaker for the night is assigned someone to evaluate their speech based on anumber of criteria depending on what kind of speech the speaker is giving.

I had originally signed up for my first evaluation by coinciding with a speech my dad was planning on giving. What better way to be introduced into evaluating than by doing it for someone I knew really well.

Unfortunately, my father fell ill and didn't show for tonight's meeting and so I was assigned to evaluate Sherry's speech.

Sherry is a timid, shy gal...from China. Kudos to her for standing up and giving a five to seven minute speech in a language that is not native to her. However, it was hard to understand a lot of what she was talking about. I think she talked about tofu, at least that's what I gave my evaluation on, and wisely, no one corrected me. She did relatively well for having to overcome the whole language obstacle. She actually piqued my interest in trying some tofu (if the speech was indeed about tofu) dishes, but that could be because I hadn't eaten dinner and even cardboard was sounding pretty good.

My whole purpose as an evaluator was to stand up after all the speakers and give a two to three minute evaluation of the speech. This includes things that I liked and ways to improve.

Like with the speakers, each week we vote for who did the best evaluation. There were three to choose from and I got the popular vote.

Which makes me a speech diva. I'm three for three on actual speeches.

And next week, I get to speak again. Hopefully, this time I'll prepare in advance...oh, who am I kidding. Someone give me some ideas for a good speech topic. I'm only on my third speech and I've run out of good ideas.

My Thoughts on the American Idol Finale

*SPOILER ALERT. DON'T READ UNLESS YOU WANT TO KNOW THE RESULT*








hahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahahaha--gasp--hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah--gasp, gasp--hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

That was awesome!

I would like a petition started to get Jamar (Danny's buddy from the auditions) on the show next year. I'm going on the record today to say that he'll be American Idol 2010. Just to make up for the upset that was Kris and Adam this year.

It's Your Birthday

It's Wade's birthday today. I'm admitting to all my diehard fans (now up to seven, I believe) that I might have forgotten all about it until this morning.

You see, Wade is not the easiest person to buy gifts for. He doesn't have a blog that he leaves obvious gift ideas on. And so every year for every occassion, I'm at a loss. It also doesn't help that our anniversary is coming up in a few weeks either. There's always so much pressure with the two events so close together. Had I known, I would've gotten married at the end of August or something.

I ask him repeatedly what he wants and he usually just shrugs his shoulders. As we were driving down to Vegas, I asked him again and he mentioned something about camping gear for scouts. But even he couldn't come up with any specific ideas of what to get in that category either.

Arg.

So another disappointing holiday from our house and another failing to attach to my name.

They should tell you about THIS when you reach appropriate marriage age. How hard it is to play Santa/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy to a grown man.

But I love him, and I'm too stubborn to move out, so he loves me too. And it doesn't matter what we exchange for our birthdays or anniversary or Christmas, or Valentines, just as long as I get what I want and he gets chocolate bunnies for Easter.

Campaign for a Bike

Dear Wade,

Popular opinion on Facebook states that you should use some of your winnings to buy me a bike.

Here's the one that I've been looking at should you feel so inclined to shower me with gifts. You know, besides a new basement. Because that doesn't count.

http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=4698938

However, if you find a different one that you would rather bestow upon me, I wouldn't complain.

A (read: 1) plane ticket to somewhere with a secluded beach would also be acceptable as well, just so you know.

And really, I'm not out pandering for gifts or anything. Just thought you'd like to know what everyone is rooting for on Facebook. Because popular opinion matters in cases like this.

Love ya,

Snuckems