Friday, September 26, 2008

My mosaic-Thanks Beka!

1. Loin et libre aujourd'hui !!, (Melanie?) 2. neon project, houston: #2, 3. Marcos de Niza Rock, 4. vw, 5. dip kiss, 6. 23!, 7. rule of fourths! yellow umbrellas and the impending storm, 8. mango cheesecake, 9. The Earth is God's Canvas., 10. writer's teeth, 11. busy, 12. Rollercoaster

My list

1. What is your first name? Melanie

2. What is your favorite food? Mexican

3. What high school did you attend? marcos de niza high school

4. What is your favorite color? pink, maybe?

5. Who is your celebrity crush? brad pitt

6. Favorite drink? Diet Dr. Pepper

7. Dream vacation? Bahamas

8. Favorite dessert? cheesecake

9. What do you want to be when you grow up? writer

10. What do you love most in life? my children

11. One word to describe you? busy

12. Your Flickr name? Rollercoaster (I don't have a Flickr account so I used my blog title)

Wanna play?: Type your answer to each of the above questions into Flickr's search. Using only the images that appear on the first page, choose your favorite and copy and paste each of the URL’s into the Mosaic Maker (3 columns, 4 rows)... Enjoy!

This was fun Bek, but you forgot to warn me that some of the Flickr images were, ummm....inappropriate? Scroll fast.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

By Request

The other night Em asked me to take a look at her list.

"What's it a list of?" asked I.

"Baby names," she said.

"Ummm, who's having a baby?" I questioned, with an ounce of curiosity and a gallon of worry.

"Well, Aunt Beka is, and Aunt Cindy is, and I will someday," she responded, rolling her eyes.

I perused the list and, to the best of my abilities, held back the laughter that was catching itself in my chest and coming out my eyes.

Here is a portion of her list, as the entire thing is pages long. We'll call these the Top 16.



As I type, I am shaking with fits of giggles.


Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Helmet hair

Rachael-if you haven't read my previous post, the first paragraph's for you.


I don't know why I feel the need to post TWO DAYS IN A ROW. But I had to share.

Whilst I was driving yesterday, my car window broke. There I was, scootering home when the driver's side door window fell. Just fell, fell into the schist of the door, gone, gone. I pondered the repercussions.

It was going to get very windy. And very hot. And very loud.

What were the necessary errands I couldn't put off until my prof could take a look, ie. hopefully fix it? I would have to take my beloved niece home later. Dang, that's an hour round trip. The children were being carpooled, good, good. I would have to run the princess to piano. And back home. Luckily it's a few blocks away. That's it. No big deal, this I can handle.

I was surprisingly optimistic. Glass half full, for sure.

Unfortunately I discounted exactly how greasy my face and hair were going to get. It is like riding on the back of a motorcycle, something I haven't done since my dearest sold his per my insistence (he hasn't forgotten his first love, the Shadow). So pretty much anywhere I show up, until it gets fixed, I will be looking a tad disheveled and in need of a good cleansing. Sorry.

Maybe I'll get a helmet. Can you see it now? My minivan full of children and me, sporting a helmet. My husband always thought I'd make a great biker babe.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Life is pain

This is why I don't post anymore.

Currently my offspring are engrossed in the televisions, three different sets, two channels. And I sit here on the computer. When is a good time to dabble on the blog? (BTW, I hate the word blog. It sounds disgusting. Like written vomit.) I'm too tired in the evenings, and too busy throughout the day, unless I ignore the children. Hmmm... now you know I ignore the children. But only sometimes. Don't judge.


For those of you who have been missing me and my druthers, I will fill you in.

I ran a marathon on Saturday. It was awesome, and awful. I was elated and exhausted. I cried at mile 7 and mile 26.6 (don't even ask, I swear I ran my tangents).

Since this was not my first marathon, I won't bore you with the little details. I will tell you about my observations that made this race different than any other.

  • I ran by myself, which meant I had to pace myself. I am not an exceptional self-pacer. I have a tendency to start out too fast, give it my all, and die well before the end. My mantra over and over in my head was "Run your own race". I said that over a hundred times in my head as other, read: many other, people passed me. Old people, small people, big people, awkward people, pumpkin-dressed people, all passed me. And I would instinctively speed up for a few strides before I remembered my mantra. It literally saved me from being ambulanced home.

  • Around mile 7 I was tapped on the shoulder (I had my headphones on pretty loud) because of a car coming down the canyon (umm, did someone forget to tell the people the road was closed?). I moved out of the way only to realize that next to the car was a runner pushing a wheelchair. In the wheelchair was, or who I assumed to be, his disabled brother. The runner was smiling, his brother was smiling and all the runners were cheering. Except me, I was crying. Running + crying = bad. I had to pull myself together fast. Fortunately for me, this same runner seemed to be with me the whole race, pushing his brother on. Crowds stood and cheered. People took pictures and videos. I was lucky to be a part of it, but I had to control my tear ducts. Around mile 21 the brother stopped at an aid station and asked the volunteers for water for his brother, telling them to dump it on his head. The volunteer (I think it was a high school girl) looked confused. I'm sure she wondered why the man in the wheelchair needed water on his head, and would he even want to be doused? But his brother knew and included him in the race that he couldn't physically run. I can't imagine pushing a wheelchair for 26.2 miles. I can't imagine how much love there must be between those two brothers. I hope my children can feel an inkling of that kind of love for each other. It was incredible and inspiring.

  • At mile 19 I started to really fatigue. I looked forward to each aid station and kept telling myself to just get to the next one, only one more mile, and I would walk. I'd reach one, drink a water and a Gatorade, suck on an orange, and start running again, telling myself to just get one more mile. I had never experienced this kind of exhaustion/pain before. Usually at the end of a race I feel exhilarated. Not this time. I know it's because I gave everything I had. By mile 24 I was ready to be done. Mile 25 was it. That's when I saw my husband who gave me a high five (I know, but it worked). And suddenly the skies opened, unleashing their torrent for a full 8 minutes. I pushed and kicked to the end.

  • As I crossed the finish line I was in a daze. Usually there are other family members and friends there to cheer for me. This time no one (non runners have to wait outside the finish area). I stumbled to the chip removers, stumbled to the medal givers, stumbled to the water. Circumvented the finish area for no particular purpose other than I knew if I sat, I was not getting up. Then I spied the professor. And I lost it. "What's wrong," he asked, not used to seeing this kind of emotion. "It was so hard," was all I could say. Then I saw the chocolate milk guy and got me some liquid heaven.

It was a short trip, with a lot of driving involved. We ate at a place called "The Pie Dump". We stayed in a fancy (yeah) hotel on a King sized bed. I got 20 minutes at Temple Square in the Primary Resource Room before they had to kick me out. I read both Martha Stewart Living and Real Simple. I spent 8 hours in an airport due to my husband's moniker. I almost got strip searched due to a forgotten jar of peanut butter. I wore my medal all day and embarrassed my husband. I ate the largest lunch of my life at Texas Roadhouse. Overall, it was a good trip.

But I had BETTER get into St. George next year. I'm just saying.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Blink once for yes, twice for no

Does anyone read this anymore?


I'm still here.

I am in the throes of writers block.

I've got some pretty good material.

It's just that every time I try to put what's in my head into the written word, it sounds, ummm, trite.

My life is normal, which we have visited before. Remember?

Nothing terribly bad or interesting has happened. I feel like I had a case of the summer doldrums. But now that fall is back for goods, and those pesky kids are back in school, I will try to fancy you with my ingenious wit. Or not.

I am trying to broaden my vocabulary. How's it sound?