The Brigman Farm

In my spare moment.

2012-01-05T09:39:00.001-08:00

There seem to be much fewer of these.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

You going to finish that icecream cake?

2011-12-01T09:31:00.000-08:00

I will pay you tomorrow for a massage today.

1 Type of Inspiration

2011-08-28T10:21:00.000-07:00

So normally I only use this blog to link to my private blog, as my private blog doesn't show up on people's blog feed when I update. This is a special occasion, though, and merits a special kind of announcement and attention.

This is about a special kind of hero.

Bobby has a little cousin named MaKenna. I use the term "little" loosely, because while she would probably be more likely to listen to the works of Justin Bieber than Incubus, she has the spirit and maturity that exceeds many adults I know. A little over a year ago, MaKenna had the same cares any tween had-- discovering that boys are actually kind of cute instead of just gross, how many girls to invite to her sleepover, and trying to be taken seriously as a mature young adult while still playing legos with the little cousins at Grandma's. Something started to happen with MaKenna, though, and her parents started to notice she was dropping weight and acting more lethargic. After hearing too many stories to ignore the symptoms, MaKenna's parents took her to the doctor to have their fears and concerns confirmed: MaKenna has Type 1 Diabetes.

When I received news of what was happening, my heart ached for them. At the time, though, I was on bed rest and totally naive to the perils and stroke potential that comes with being a parent. I still had just under a month before I would know what it was like to have a little person in your life that you would give ANYTHING, including your last breath, to protect. When Eddy had a seizure not long ago and ended up in the emergency room, I felt completely and utterly helpless in a situation that I had no control over-- but we left with tools and knowledge to prevent the seizure from happening again, and we gained some control back. For my Aunt Carolynn and Uncle Ken, though, only so much control was given back. "Little" MaKenna suddenly had an immense responsibility over every minute detail-- what to eat, when to eat, how much to eat-- and then repeated finger pricks to test glucose levels, and adjust what/when/how much to eat accordingly-- while trying to maintain a normal tween lifestyle. In hindsight, I cannot fathom how they managed to handle the news and the transition with such grace and faith, and pray sincerely that their example is the only means I'll need in this life to learn that lesson.

MaKenna's heroism is defined completely by her attitude throughout this entire process. On paper, her age may suggest an inability to fully grasp the magnitude of the situation regarding her health, but her example has taught me volumes about the adaptability of children, and of the tenacity and strength MaKenna possesses. She takes her nutrition choices very seriously, and has taken care to learn alongside her parents rather than allowing them to dictate her meals and schedule. She has educated herself about using an insulin pump, and what it means to have diabetes. The most inspiring thing to me throughout all of this is that she has refused to let this diagnosis slow her down. In a whirlwind of new found adult-like responsibility, MaKenna is still the beautiful, fun-loving, carefree individual with love and compassion for others. It is that idea of looking forward and being proactive that MaKenna organized a family effort to "Walk to Cure Diabetes." Her mother wrote the following:
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
MaKenna made the decision for our family that this year we are going to participate in the "walk to cure diabetes". MaKenna has made it her personal goal to raise at least $2,000 for this cause. If you would like to donate to JDRF you can do this by following these steps:

* log on to www2.jdrf.org
* click donate to a walker
* type in MaKenna Petersen (notice it is PetersEn NOT PetersOn)
* our team name is : Team MaKenna
* walk location is MISSOURI
* now click "find walker"
MaKenna's name should now come up...click on her name and then click on the orange "donate to MaKenna" icon

We are not ones that typically ask for donations, but we are extremely passionate about this cause. Please, if you can, consider donating even a small amount. EVERY donation counts!
Now, after a year and a half after her diagnosis, MaKenna continues to check blood sugars before and after every meal. MaKenna now has a pump (a device that connects to her body through a needle to continually deliver insulin in order for her to survive). She continues to have her same upbeat and positive attitude despite this challenge.
Thank you for your continued support and friendship.
Sincerely,
Ken, Carolynn, MaKenna, Mason, Dylan and Jaxon

So I'm not one to typically ask for donations either, unless it's my job and it's for a bunch of kids at a domestic violence shelter (and then I am SHAMELESS). This is an instance though where a couple dollars here and there could really make a huge difference in helping MaKenna reach her goal. Please, please consider. And if it is ANY motivation, I'll be walking with them-- with my entire 32 week pregnant self. I promise to post a recap of my Waddle To Cure Diabetes if you are willing to help MaKenna accomplish her fundraising goal.

Thank you so much!

Eddy is 14 months today...

2011-08-21T08:47:00.000-07:00

Does that mean I get cake?http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Juice?

2011-07-09T18:58:00.000-07:00

A full cup.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Why, hello there.

2011-04-09T08:50:00.000-07:00

So it's been a while, eh?

Carrots?

2010-12-12T16:10:00.001-08:00

Not so bad these days.

Here we go again.

2010-11-22T09:35:00.001-08:00

Brain spew.

It comes in a pouch!

2010-09-30T09:56:00.000-07:00

Agra peas? Probably my new favorite thing.

Milk drunk.

2010-08-09T07:57:00.000-07:00

Imageriffic.

Like a hot, wet blanket.

2010-07-31T08:22:00.000-07:00

I am ready for cooler weather.

I heard Meatloaf on the radio the other day...

2010-07-14T10:35:00.000-07:00

And it was amazing.

Still going strong.

2010-06-29T11:11:00.000-07:00

Totally in love.

Can you imagine?

2010-06-25T07:46:00.001-07:00

Perfection.

Pain?

2010-06-19T06:39:00.001-07:00

Bring it.

Three cheers for nap weather!

2010-06-12T10:54:00.001-07:00

I like thunder.

My past week...

2010-05-30T08:22:00.001-07:00

And what a week it has been.

Born to be wild.

2010-05-20T11:58:00.001-07:00

Grey's Anatomy finale tonight! Totally unrelated to my post, but definitely worth mentioning.

You've got the whole world...

2010-04-29T11:03:00.001-07:00

On your shoulders.

Winner winner...

2010-04-24T06:12:00.001-07:00

Vegan chick'n dinner!

Spring!

2010-04-05T11:56:00.000-07:00

The smell of rain.

Check it.

2010-03-27T09:56:00.001-07:00

To frolic in springtime.

new.

2010-03-18T07:50:00.001-07:00

I heart Utah.

Wake me up with it's 70 outside.

2010-02-18T10:44:00.000-08:00

I could go for a large serving of naptime.

I have a cute husband.

2010-02-10T07:02:00.000-08:00

Jealous? I think you should be!

It's a....

2010-02-04T18:31:00.000-08:00

Secret! Until you go here to find out!

Procrastinating the outlining...

2010-01-28T10:12:00.000-08:00

Oh. So much to outline.

Too bad procrastination isn't a skill one can brag about on a resume.

And again... again.

2010-01-16T06:39:00.000-08:00

Click!

New post!

2010-01-12T07:14:00.001-08:00

Click me for your reading pleasure.

anew!

2010-01-06T08:27:00.001-08:00

http://thebrigmen.blogspot.com

And again.

2009-12-18T06:42:00.001-08:00

New post.

New post!

2009-12-16T09:26:00.001-08:00

Wee!

http://thebrigmen.blogspot.com

Another new post.

2009-12-09T14:45:00.000-08:00

Privacy is bliss.

New post!

2009-11-03T06:27:00.000-08:00

Isn't this a delightful system?

thebrigmen.blogspot.com

I'm using Tiffany's suggestion.

2009-10-20T17:37:00.000-07:00

New post!

http://thebrigmen.blogspot.com/

Going private!

2009-10-10T14:16:00.000-07:00

I've heard way too many creepy stories about people's blogs and random people accessing them. So I'm going private.

If you read my blog, leave a comment, and I can send you an invite.

EDIT: If you could leave your email address too, that'd be great. Sorry, Annie-- I don't have yours!

Soupy oatmeal makes my heart smile.

2009-10-02T07:09:00.000-07:00

Friday mornings are the best. I can sleep in as late as I want (today, I slept in until EIGHT O'CLOCK!), and when I wake up, I can take the dogs to the park if I want (and I did). I can take my time walking there, too, enjoying the perfect hoodie weather and the crisp, clear scent of autumn, because it's Friday. I have absolutely NOTHING scheduled on Fridays. Of course, I do have things to get done today (process recording, response paper for diversity, clean the institute), but I don't have any particular time that they have to get done.

And it is delightful.

The schedule of classes for next semester has been posted, and of course, I immediately looked at when the classes I want are happening. After learning my lesson this semester (it IS better to go for the classes you want as opposed to the schedule you want), I realized that my Fridays off are going to be short-lived. Fortunately, though, my classes will all happen in the morning. So Tuesday/Thursday, I'll be on campus until 3:00 at the latest (one of the days, I'll be done by 11), which means two days a week, I'll have an entire afternoon to spend time with my dogs. This semester has been hard on them-- most days, they're just locked up. They get some respite when one of us has time to take them to the park for a half hour, but other than that, they just stay cooped up. This gives them more time to be dogs more often, which makes me extremely happy. As Bobby looks at his schedule and makes plans for when he'll graduate, I feel extremely peaceful, knowing that eventually, we'll be in a house with a yard, where the dogs can play outside whenever they want without concerns about neighbors yelling at us for not having our dogs on leash.

My classmates are amazing. Most of my classes are amazing, and the one that isn't, I have a bunch of friends who also think it's less than amazing, so we have gripe-fests together, which is also delightful. It's so nice to be around so many people that think like me. It's empowering, and I missed it so much when I was in classes at BYU (not that they weren't kind people, we just didn't work on the same wavelength for the most part).

The animals have fleas. And that sucks. But it's causing me to look forward to a freeze, which as someone who does not particularly enjoy cold weather, this is working for me. Bobby has been wonderful in dealing with my anxiety regarding the infestation. He combs them, bathes them, vacuums, and he bought Chuck a little catnip toy when we discovered the fleas had relocated, even though he swears he doesn't care for our cat. I often reflect on my dating days, when I was looking for the "perfect" guy. My husband isn't perfect (thank goodness), but he's perfect for me. I feel extremely blessed to be able to spend my life with my best friend.

And I'm in love with this. I wish I could find the whole song.

In love with the weather

2009-09-18T07:27:00.000-07:00

It's so nice when a happy place involves just stepping outside. Simply breathing in the air with the hint of autumn singing softly in the gentle breeze reminds me of Halloween costumes, pumpkin hunting, and crunchy leaves. Never mind the upcoming papers and projects whose due dates are haunting the spaces on the calendar of weeks to come. Instead, laying in the grass beneath a giant tree on campus allows for easily achieved mindfulness and calming meditation, and nothing can bring me down.

In the past couple of weeks, I have begun seeing my very first clients. I did my very first therapy session, where someone came into my office and trusted me with her problems. A couple of clients trusted me enough to tell me they had thoughts of suicide or hurting others, which was a terrifying responsibility (in case you're wondering, these clients never present the way they do in the training videos). I have an amazing supervisor, and fantastic clinicians nearby to help me through these scary times. It was an accident (or so I thought) that I ended up at Valeo, but it's exactly where I need to be to learn everything I can in my internship.

Inside my desk is a post-it I made after I saw my first client. I'd said a prayer prior to the session, and my nerves were so rattled after doing the risk assessment that it was all I could do to not crawl under my desk and cry. I took out the post it, and a felt tip marker, and I wrote
I deserve to be loved.
I deserve to be happy.
He died for all of my pain.
He died for all of my insecurities.
He can replace all of my doubts with faith.
Through Him, I can and will do this.

In a week of seeing clients, I've had two risk assessments. The other interns have had zero. I consider myself lucky-- what an advantage to have that out of the way. I also have a relationship with Christ. What an advantage in everything I do. What a blessing it is to be doing what I'm doing, and to have His help when I do it.

And the crisp autumn air on top of it all. I am blessed.

New Year. New Me.

2009-08-22T06:47:00.000-07:00

This week alone has shown me why my friends in the past completing their graduate programs disappeared when the school year started. Thursday was the first day of KU classes, and Thursday also happens to be my only day on campus (three classes that consist of me sitting at a desk from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.). Already, the stack of reading is as tall as I am, which should be okay, since I don't have class until Thursday. Incidentally, I am also enrolled in a fourth class, which consists of acting as intern at an agency in Topeka for 24 hours a week. So while I don't have class until Thursday, I'm playing psychotherapist for eight hours a day, Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday. No biggie, eh? I'll just take my homework with me and work on it during the down time.

Here's my schedule for my internship:

KAITLIN STEWART BRIGMAN
Office 208
MONDAY
(8-5)
8-9—INDIV APPT
9-10— INTAKE APPT
10-11—GRP SUP PREP
11-1—INTERN GRP SUP W/DONNA
1-2—LUNCH
2-3—INDIV APPT
3-4—INDIV APPT
4-5—ADMIN

TUESDAY
(10-8)
10-11—INDIV APPT
11-12—RELATIONSHIP GRP (330)
12-1—LUNCH
1-2—INDIV APPT
2-3—INDIV APPT
3-4—ADMIN
4-5—INDIV SUP W/DONNA
5-6—INDIV APPT
6-7—INDIV APPT
7-8—ADMIN

WEDNESDAY
(8-4)
8-9—INDIV APPT
9-10—ADMIN
10-11—PROCOVERY GRP (2401)
11-12—LUNCH
12-1:30—DBT GRP (330)
1:30-2—TEAM SUP MTG
2-3—INDIV APPT
3-4—ADMIN

So you may notice two things. One, not a lot of down time. Two? My own freaking office! I'm not sure why that always excites me, since I always had my own office in my BSW level positions (both during my internship and at the women's shelter), but for some reason, it makes me feel like I'm kind of important. It's also a little terrifying, because it would be nice to have another individual there to jump in when they realize I'm completely warping the client on an emotional and cognitive level (good practice for parenthood).

So... getting reading done? Should be interesting. Fortunately I have a system set up where I'm forced to do a bulk of the reading Thursday evening/Friday morning. Finances are tight right now (which should surprise you, what with the both of us in school, and grad school being almost unbelievably expensive), so when I looked at the list of text books I needed, I almost cried. Now, I'm not one to purchase textbooks, but I really want to do well in my grad program. I want to get a 4.0 so when it comes time to apply for a doctorate program, I'll have no problems getting a nice, cushy monetary package offered. I also want to participate a ton in my classes, so my professors will all be willing to offer nice, cushy recommendation letters on my behalf when job hunting season starts. I also kind of want to be competent when people put their emotional well being in my hands. I managed then to make arrangements with fellow students/professor (one of my professors, I can already tell, is fantastic/super hero material) to borrow the text book Thursday evening and return it Friday. My arrangement with the student is that in exchange for allowing me to borrow the books, I'll give her a digital copy of my outline. That makes it so I can't just bring the book home Thursday, decide to be lazy and not read, and then just return it Friday. No siree. I have to read it, outline it, and send it on its way. Accountability and scheduling works well for me. It makes me get things done. I'm very task-oriented, so this should help me be successful in this semester.

I have to make sure other parts of my life don't suffer as a result. My goal is to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to take my dogs running before I have to be out of the house by 7 (to get to my internship by 8 in Topeka, or to get to Twente to print off the articles that need to be read for my classes for the following week). My body's going to have to get retrained into that schedule, which means no naps (I was utterly exhausted yesterday after getting up at 6, and ended up crashing for an hour and a half in the evening. It felt absolutely glorious at the time, but then I didn't fall asleep until long after midnight). I can do this!

So, Blog, you may be neglected over the next several weeks. I only take time to write now because I know it's going to be a while before I can update. Being a grad student gives you super powers... it gives you the ability to disappear. *POOF*

I ate old beans.

2009-08-15T08:43:00.000-07:00

School starts in a week (well, technically, five days). I'm ready to pee my pants in anticipation. It's a little bittersweet, because it is a short program and it means that after this Thursday, I only have one more first day of the semester (and I'm a geeky kid who really enjoys school), but on the other hand, I really like school! So Thursday is a very exciting day for me.

A week from Monday also marks the first day of my practicum at Valeo in Topeka, which I'm pretty excited about. At first, I had no idea how I was going to jump into a clinical setting and be able to actually do psychotherapy, but after looking over the orientation materials, I'm feeling a little more calm about the whole thing. I can tell that I'm getting back into the love I have for my field (my BSW level position burned me out a bit) because I went to the library the other day and left with my arms full of books that were all sorts of social work-y and documentaries to match. I've already read through An Unquiet Mind and encourage anyone and everyone to pick it up. It really humanizes mental illness, bipolar disorder in particular. It's also incredibly well written, so I managed to finish it in a couple days.

I'm a little in love with my Blackberry. It's having some technical issues (or I'm having some technical issues-- jury's still out), but for the most part, it's amazing. And orange. Which I also love. Right now, I have Pandora going on my phone, which is delightful since I have a bandwidth cap on my home internet, but unlimited data on my phone (three cheers for having a husband who works for Sprint), so I get to listen to all the Owl City radio station I want. Delightful. I also spent much of my morning in my sick bed (see the title of this blog) watching Grey's Anatomy on Sprint TV. uhMAYzing. PS: If you didn't know, Season 5 comes out September 15th, which gives me just over a week to re-watch the season before Season 6 premiers on the 24th. In case you were wondering, yes-- it is VERY important to re-watch the previous season. Never mind that I'll be in graduate school with a 24 hour a week practicum with a 1.5 hour commute three days a week and working part time on top of it all. My goal this semester is to not procrastinate at all... let's see how well that pans out.

On that note, I'm really glad we opted to get rid of the nutrition class. On our first day at church here, Bobby and I saw that some sort of program was needed. We had really high hopes for the exercise group and the nutrition class, and in the beginning, there was a lot of excitement. Then it faded to the point where no one was interested at all. It was the epitome of "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it eat its fruits and veggies." I find it fascinating how our culture has evolved to the point where the people who eat right and exercise are "fanatics," and it's considered politically incorrect to call someone's extra weight or obesity a problem, and even suggesting they change their lifestyle so they can become healthier is insulting. Maybe when Bobby goes through his graduate program, he'll learn techniques for approaching individuals in such a way that they find less aggressive and more genuine, which is actually how he feels. I guess the bright side of people not being ready/willing to change is that I now have 5 extra hours a week where I'm not preparing and giving a class. That means more time for class, and more time for keeping up with my homework.

I'm really excited about this semester. I have a really good feeling for what's to come.

Accidentally Vegan

2009-08-07T08:20:00.000-07:00

I've discovered that for the most part, I've become an accidental vegan. It's interesting that with all of the information about nutrition (especially saturated fats), my food choices have really been limited to plant based foods. Bobby also read about the benefits of choosing foods that have only 10% of their calories that come from fat, and since making that a goal, animal products aren't really an option. I did have cottage cheese yesterday, but for the most part, it's all plants. I've heard horror stories about vegans not getting enough protein, but I'm not really sure how that happens-- lentils and legumes are chalk full of protein, as well as soy products. Hmm. I think there are just a lot of misconceptions about nutrition across the board.

iTunes has been doing a fantastic thing lately where included in their free download section is a workout video. I've acquired a yoga video (10 minutes to do at night before bed as sort of a wind down), and yesterday found a 10 minute full body workout. Of course, the recommendation is at least 30 minutes a day of moderate exercise (I'm not sure the yoga is enough for me to consider "moderate" simply because it doesn't get my heart rate up), but with the benefits of exercise being greater if done first thing in the morning, having the 10 minute video means I can get a little bit in before I do everything else, and then exercise later. Lovely.

So I found this video, and for the most part, I like it. The bits about how childhood obesity is often a result of poor lifestyle choices made by the parents really resonates with me (mostly because my mom was an emotional eater, and I learned that a bad day is made better by downing a couple Butterfingers), and is one of the reasons why I was really excited about the nutrition class. I'm big on parenting (between being a social worker and a product of a parental unit in dire need of emotional intervention), and I recognize how lifestyle choices really influence what happens to a child. If there are cookies and ice cream in your home, why shouldn't the child snack on them? If they don't grow up seeing Mom and Dad making exercise a priority, why would the child? If there aren't fruits and vegetables available to ensure everyone gets their 5-9 servings a day, how can you expect the kid to learn the importance of such? Childhood obesity not only has physical implications (stress on joints, cardiovascular problems, diabetes, etc), but the emotional component is HUGE (no pun intended). Everyone feels awkward and uncomfortable in their own skin anyway when they're in junior high-- imagine adding the handicap of being overweight (which, in spite of shows like "More to Love"'s best efforts to thwart, being overweight is scientifically proven to be unhealthy and leads to chronic disease... not that anyone who is overweight is unlovable, but it is an indication of an underlying problem where the individual is not taking care of him or herself, which could be a result of ignorance, emotional issues, physical problems, etc).

Anyway. Alarm bells went off when the little girl said "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels," because that's a huge mantra in the eating disorder community. Adopting that idea can lead to serious trouble. People need to eat in order to live, so perhaps she could say instead, "Eat to live, don't live to eat." Food shouldn't be a crutch or have so many emotions tied to it. It should taste good, but it should also benefit you for longer than just that moment it's on your taste buds. If what you're eating is doing more harm than good, stop putting it in your mouth. People enjoy smoking, but it's killing them. The same can be said about doughnuts.

I think I broke my toe.

2009-08-03T10:19:00.001-07:00

I'm a planner. I have a planner, and I am a planner. I like knowing what is going to happen before it happens, and I spend far too much time daydreaming about those things and what they will look like, what I'll be doing, how I'll feel, and all the wonderful things that will happen when those things happen. It makes it difficult for me to be present, but it also makes me very capable of organizing things.

Until recently, I was feeling a little anxious (see: a LOT anxious). We had vague plans for our future, but nothing was really concrete. Fortunately, I rediscovered my financial love affair with Dave Ramsey, and listening to his podcasts have brought some of that planning back into my life. We've been budgeting and financial planning like fiends as of late, and it has been absolutely delightful. Planning, planning, planning.

Then last night, after battling a brief bout of insomnia, Bobby decided to explore what graduate programs the University of Utah had to offer. After hunting around a little bit, we discovered something uhMAYzing. Have you ever sat and said, "Man, I wish there were a career that did this, this, and this, so I could do what I love and get paid for it." The University of Utah HAS THAT PROGRAM. I'm a little in love with it, and I'm not even going into it. I'm getting extremely prematurely excited, but I'm a planner. And this definite possibility makes me very, very happy. It would also mean we could move back to Utah in a couple years, which would be fantastic.

It'd be kind of fun to go to the beach for a while.

Bike riding at night and Communism...

2009-07-25T07:31:00.000-07:00

Good in theory, but in application? Not so great.

Bobby got off work yesterday at 5 pm, which is the earliest he's gotten off work at his new job. He was excited because it meant he could go on a group ride, but sadly, there was no group ride scheduled. So shortly after he left for work, I get a phone call.

"How about we bike to Olathe and back?"

I wanted to argue that it would be dark, but we have bike lights, so I agreed. A good long bike ride would be good for me.

It was 32 miles there, so I anticipated it taking just over an hour and a half to get there. I failed to consider the head wind, the hills, and the fact that there were only two of us. It took just over two hours, so we got to Bobby's mom's around 8. My legs felt a little fried, and I was a little concerned about making the ride back.

Bobby's mom wasn't home, but we raided her fridge anyway. Well, Bobby raided her fridge... he kept telling me to eat, but I wasn't hungry. At all. I managed to force down my Clif bar, and part of a banana, and a few bites of a veggie burger. All I really wanted was liquids, so I felt I got enough from a couple glasses of orange juice.

At about 8:30, we left to make the trip back. Less than a mile into the "back" part of our "out 'n back" I stopped and threw up. I could tell this was going to be a fun ride.

Not long into our second leg, we turned on our lights (our very powerful, very expensive lights) as the sun was falling behind the horizon line. It wasn't quite pitch black yet when my light flickered a couple times. I assumed it was because I hit something in the road that just shook the wiring between the light and the battery. After traveling a few more yards, my light went out. Completely.

Uhh...

Bobby played with the wires a bit, checking to see if it just shook loose, and nothing happened. Being the chivalrous human being he is, my husband gave me his battery pack so I would have light. Ten minutes later, the sun had completely set, and we were under the cover of night with just one light. If that one went out, we'd be done.

Since I had the only light, I rode in front, meaning I wouldn't have the benefit of drafting behind Bobby. My body was feeling a little ragged from the miles already ridden, and we weren't completely confident about how to get home. Given my complete lack of sense of direction, I was feeling extremely unsure about our travel, and with how exhausted I felt, I didn't want to waste any miles in the wrong direction.

Bobby was feeling a little gutsy, and started riding to the side where there wasn't much light. I hit something in the road that caused my handlebars to swivel a little, and the light hit the opposite side of the road. Five feet in front of Bobby was a deer.

"OH CRAP!"

I'm really surprised Bobby didn't go down.

In case you were wondering, back country roads are really terrifying at night. I was really regretting all those times I watched "Children of the Corn" in my youth. My only comfort was in knowing we had prayed before we left, and my energy came from knowing I was the one with the light, and the faster I rode the sooner we'd get home.

Then I saw a freaking snake in the road.

Not just in the road. The light was pointed down to the road right in front of my front wheel, simply because I'm more interested in what I'm about to hit than what's in the road a few yards ahead. What kept me calm was that in the next second, I wasn't going to hit anything that would kill me. So when I saw the snake, it took a second to register that it was a snake, and then to register that it was in my path of travel. So my only response? Swerving and screaming. Loudly.

I wonder what the people in that little country house we were riding by thought?

Bobby's really good at comforting me. "It was only a bull snake. Want to go back and catch it so we can take it home?"

One of the things our friends at the bike shop in Utah always said was "butt hurt." If someone was bothered by something, they were "butt hurt." I thought it was silly. How are they related? I found out last night. I was butt hurt. And very irritable. Fortunately, we saw lights up ahead, and since we'd already passed Eudora, we knew it was Lawrence. FINALLY!

We got to Mass street, and then turned onto 9th. It was the quickest way home with the steepest hills. I totally granny-geared it all the way up, and with the encouraging cat calls by a car full of drunk men, I made it.

Once we rolled up to our apartment, my Garmin said 63.7 miles. Not the longest ride I've ever done, but the longest I've done in a while. Not bad for someone whose only been back on the bike for a couple weeks.

PS: Snakes = the devil.

As my clever husband said,

2009-07-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

"I knew their food could kill you if you ate it... but not if you made it."

Oh em geez.

2009-07-22T06:45:00.000-07:00

I thought this was great, until they brought up anorexia/bulimia. Uhm, lifestyle vs. mental illness? Not really an equal playing field.

Something to think about, though.

2009-07-21T08:14:00.000-07:00

Enough said.

Hi. My name is Katie, and I am struggling.

2009-07-16T11:06:00.000-07:00

As a social worker, I should be used to the idea of people being afraid of change. I know all of the sayings-- old habits die hard. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. Blah de freaking blah. So why is it that I'm working on a power point for nutrition class tonight, and I'm completely and utterly discouraged in the process? Because maybe two people will show up. Which would be leaps and bounds in improvement over how many have shown up for exercise group. I can't really complain about that one, because I haven't been going (and I'm supposed to lead it), but after a week of dragging my sleepy body to the church building at 6:30 a.m. to find that I was the only one to do so, I don't feel motivated to set my alarm anymore.

The reason I knew I couldn't become a teacher was because I have great difficulty separating my ability from my expectation of others. Bobby would come home from his Chronic Disease Prevention class every day and tell me the things he learned, and almost immediately, our pantry and our fridge were cleared out and replaced with good things. We started eating 5 servings of fruits and vegetables every single day, and the information about the benefits of daily exercise far outweighed my desire to sit and watch t.v. when I got home from work. So when others get the same information and file it in an "I don't really care" folder, I get frustrated. And want to kick things. Knowing that probably should have been my red flag that leading a nutrition class and exercise group would be a bad idea.

Last night was my first experience on the Bambinos Ride, which I was told would be 20 miles at 17 mph, no one gets dropped. It turned into a 20 mph ride for 24 miles, which was fine, because it was SO fun. I was a little worried at the beginning, simply because the pace seemed a little slow for me. I was getting bored, but it allowed me to talk to the people riding next to me, which was fun. On the way back, though, the pace increased quite a bit, and it was SO much fun. I can't believe I waited so long to do group rides. Riding 24 miles with other people (see: drafting) is a LOT more fun than riding 24 miles by myself.

Le sigh. Back to the nutrition power point. Someday it'll mean something to someone, right?

A new understanding.

2009-07-06T11:00:00.000-07:00

In an effort to be more physically active, I've taken to riding my bike places more than before. Rather than driving to campus, I ride my bike, and carry it up to the third floor to put in the same room as me, because my bike is far too pretty (and impossible to replace given our current financial position in life) to lock up on a bike rack. In my experience, I have discovered something that is quite bothersome.

Lawrence differs than Provo in that cyclists are allowed on the sidewalks. At first, I found it strange that a cyclist would even want to ride on the sidewalk, but discovered quickly its appeal. While all the entrances into Lawrence city limits have signs indicating the community is bike friendly, many motorists failed to receive the memo. This is especially upsetting since I learned that bike laws became mandatory testing materials in order to obtain a driver's license. Riding on 6th or Iowa becomes a request to die young, apparently.

Riding on the sidewalk has brought to light something I think I would not have noticed otherwise. Many sections of sidewalk look like they've fallen victim to various earthquakes, and the transition from sidewalk to cross walk seems like a blatant afterthought for many construction workers. Perhaps it's the humidity that creates such violent cracks and holes, but I've not seen any effort made to repair sidewalks. On a bike, this can be terrifying, especially for those of us who have had bloody bike accidents, and any lip or inconsistency in the pavement can cause a spike in anxiety. However, what I find extremely alarming is considering the individuals in wheelchairs who are doing their part to lighten their carbon footprint, and then are punished unnecessarily for their mode of transportation. My observations of the sidewalks around Lawrence are not hyperbolic in order to complain about something-- I genuinely think it would be nearly impossible for someone in a wheelchair to get from point A to point B in Lawrence through using the sidewalks. Several transitions from sidewalk to crosswalk are so uneven that many appear to require a ramp in order to successfully roll over the large lump of concrete and tar.

In addition to individuals using wheelchairs, I would imagine parents pushing strollers have experienced extreme difficulty in attempting to enjoy an evening stroll. I thought it odd that I didn't see nearly as many jogging strollers out here as I did in Utah, and initially wrote it off as a cultural difference. Now, I see that such physical activity could be deemed hazardous, both to the expensive stroller being pushed and the precious cargo inside.

These complaints worsened when I rode my bike downtown to watch the fireworks, and I discovered that thousands of dollars were spent on blowing things up. Pretty lights and loud noises to be enjoyed by a community over a few hours, when such money could be spent to repair the roads for the members of the community to enjoy every day of the year. I guess tradition and morale trump safety.

If you think I'm overreacting, this guy died from hitting a pothole on his bike. He wasn't on the sidewalk, but still-- even the roads aren't getting repaired.

On a slightly related note, I'm in love with the new Nike commercial. I'm told I won't like Lance as much when I read his second book, but right now, I'm kind of in love with him, mostly for what he's doing for cancer. Love, love, love. All around.

Sharing is caring.

2009-06-24T08:27:00.000-07:00

In one week, I will be completely done with my summer courses, ready to take on a month and a half of minimal responsibilities. As of now, that includes working (very) part time and learning how to sew. I'm REALLY excited about the latter, as it ties in very nicely with the Brigman goal of becoming as self sufficient as possible. Because we are not in a position to have a massive garden, chickens, and a dairy cow, I can use this time to focus on other skills, such as baking from scratch (we've been making our own bread for a few weeks now), and now sewing. We want to do the cloth diaper thing, and they're really expensive upfront (but actually are a lot cheaper than disposable diapers in the long run), so I want to get started now on making some. Not that that's an announcement or anything, so don't panic/get excited.

Having more time means I'll be able to train more for triathlons and the like. The triathlon last Saturday went splendidly. The weather was ideal (cloud coverage, little humidity), so it didn't feel miserable simply existing outside. My goal was to get the tri done in an hour, and I ended up getting 1:04:32, which qualified me as fourth in my age group. Not terrible since I was bed ridden two days prior with an illness, but it does motivate me to work a lot harder for the next one. I also discovered that having a panic attack in the open swim really takes a toll on your time. Apparently I do not do well with swimming in a large group of people. Synchronized swimming is not for me. I was fine as soon as there was a gap between the group of people in front of me and the group of people behind me, but at the start and then when I caught up with the front group, my breathing became very erratic and I was convinced I was going to drown. Not really conducive to obtaining a competitive time. The bike and run were fun though.

Speaking of running, we had two additional people at running group this morning. I cannot tell you how excited that made me! Typically, it's the Buhlers and the Brigmans (or "Brigmen" as I think we should refer to ourselves in the plural as), and if we're lucky, the Trunnells are there (they actually are there more often than not). How exciting it was to have two more today (Virginia and Lee). I just feel so much better about life when I'm exercising consistently, and there is an immense feeling of accomplishment when, at the end of the day, your body is just so pleasantly tired. You just know you've done something good for yourself, and it's exhilarating. Others have expressed interest in the nutrition class who have been unable to come due to scheduling conflicts, which is great! I'm glad we're able to send out the powerpoints to everyone so they can get some of the benefits of the class (Bobby does such a great job elaborating on them, though, that going to the class is really the ideal situation for learning the most).

A dear friend from Utah called yesterday, and I got to talk to him for a bit. It made me miss Utah a ton. It was really hard adjusting spiritually, but every other component was fantastic. It was a dream to have the mountains in our backyard (almost literally), and the weather was amazing. I really took for granted that I did not get a single mosquito bite while we lived in Utah (I've had dozens already since being back in Kansas). We also made some really great friends, and it was really nice for Bobby to have people he could talk about cycling with all the time. We've been really fortunate to have such great friends in Kansas already, and our ward is amazing. Those factors almost make up for the humidity. Almost. I look forward to the fall when I can run outside consistently again.

In other news, I'm currently reading It's Not About the Bike by Lance Armstrong (with Sally Jenkins... which I didn't realize until a couple chapters in, and said to Bobby, "Wow, Lance is a pretty good writer" and the "With Sally Jenkins" in the smaller font), and I'm now a little in love with Lance Armstrong. I didn't really care for him, just with the impressions I've gotten with the media (because I'm a sucker for the tabloids), but he's very human. And I'm pretty sure the next time anyone asks me who I would meet if I could meet anyone in the world, my answer will be his mom. Well, there might be a few people ahead of her on that list, but she's definitely on the list. What a fantastic woman. And what a fantastic son for recognizing the magnitude of her influence in his life. I hope to be like her with my kids.

And... super awesome video!

Procrastination at its finest.

2009-06-19T11:17:00.000-07:00

I'm in the process of writing my final paper for one of my summer classes (it's almost done, I swear!) when I got a handy little email in my inbox. It's a daily email I get regarding some pretty sweet deals online, and this one in particular tickled my fancy. Head on over to this sweet website to get 70% off New Balance stuff. That's shoes and apparel, people. So if your excuse to not come to running group has been that you just don't have the gear for it, order away! The deal is good all weekend.

Seriously. Having the right gear makes a difference.

On a quasi related note, my body developed ebola (which is my generic term for all illnesses I acquire) yesterday, and while I feel like I'm over the hump, my nasal cavity is secreting more mucous than I thought humanly possible. Seriously, I feel like I've filled my TP (if you get the soft kind, you don't need to buy tissues!) with at least ten pounds of snot. Ugh. Let's hope I can get enough out of my system to rock the triathlon tomorrow!

Slimey vegan balogna

2009-06-17T10:30:00.000-07:00

If birthdays are indicative of how the year to come will be, 23 is going to be a fantastic age.

Yesterday started with a fabulous run with my new Garmin Forerunner 305. How I love this little contraption! After having it for a few days, I've learned so much about where I stand as a runner. It's great because it pushes me to go faster because I'm accountable when we pull up the data from the run.

Bobby was dying of some disease, but he still managed to pull it together to take me to Deanna Rose Farmstead. For you Lawrencians who have not experienced Deanna Rose, it's a fantastic date place! It's in Overland Park, it's free admission, and for just a few dollars, you can feed ducks, goats, horses, and -- the best part of all-- bottle feed baby goats! Bobby made fun of me because it's technically "Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead" but it's one of my favorite places on Earth. Sad? Maybe. Or maybe I just take pleasure in the adorable.

We went to the bike shop from there so Bobby could get something for the triathlon this weekend, and it was lovely. I'm a little sad there isn't a Scott dealer around, but the bikes they did have are beautiful. Cervelo and Orbea make some good looking frames.

Then Plato's Closet. Plato's is one of those stores that is really hit or miss, and I thought being in Utah would provide me some advantage in finding some good stuff. Everyone there (for the most part) wears modest clothing, so finding something for me should be easy. Wrong. However, at the Plato's in Overland Park, I was able to find THE most adorable dress (which just so happens to look fabulous on me), and it was brand new! Not that I'm anti previously worn clothing (I actually prefer it), but it was just such a find.

Have I ever mentioned how fantastic my family is? We went to Bobby's mom's, and Bobby immediately went to take a nap (his disease was winning), and Bobby's mom and I just talked for a while. It's nice having someone to do that with. She made me a cake and put it on a green cutting board (!) that was part of my present. It was delightful.

And to end a wonderful day, we had some rockin friends over who gave me the best card ever (it's definitely fridge worthy), and concluded the night with some pineapple and good conversation.

Twas a good day.

23 is going to be a good year.

Iceburg Lettuce and Sia

2009-06-05T12:34:00.000-07:00

Today has been one of those fabulously productive days that make me really proud of myself, and the day isn't anywhere close to being over. So while my curry cooks, I'll blog my happiness for my digital posterity.

I woke this morning shocked to see how lit our apartment was. My alarm was set for 5:45, and it's never that light out. Of course, it wasn't 5:45... it was 7:13. See, I've been trying to get Garmin on a potty schedule to deter accidents, so I've been setting my alarm for every 2 hours during the day to make sure to take him out. Well, my last potty alarm was set for just after 10 p.m., so when I went to set my alarm to wake up, I forgot to change the PM to AM, and missed running group. I was devastated! I felt like I let everyone down-- until I found out after a couple phone calls that they went running anyway. How awesome is that? I'm quite excited for my little running group.

Well, having missed the opportunity to do the interval training, I decided to just run a 5k and see how quickly I could do it. I've been holding a steady 25 minutes, and wanted to see how much I could cut off that. I wasn't hoping for much, because I haven't been training hard this week, so I was extremely pleased when I clocked in at 24:32. Not a huge chunk off, but not bad for being as lazy as I've been this week.

Yesterday I got on my bike for the first time in a long time. I'd forgotten how nice it is to be on the bike! It's not so hot in the busier parts of town (downtown, Iowa, 6th) but back into neighborhoods and such, it was so nice. I'm definitely going to have to incorporate some cross training in so I don't get burned out. Which is why, after I ran and got ready for the day, I decided to ride my bike to campus instead of drive. I'm out of gas, and I HATE getting gas, so it seemed like an excellent alternative to me. While on campus, I got a ton of work done for my boss, and got a bunch of paperwork turned in to get my loan taken care of and get my paycheck (always a good thing).

And that brings me to now. Written down, it doesn't seem like much, but I feel really great right now. Maybe it's the endorphin high from the exercise I did today. Either way, I'll keep it.

Rainy days are my favorite.

2009-06-02T18:39:00.000-07:00

As a lover of the outdoors, I have found that rainy days in Kansas are the best. When it's getting this humid/hot out, it's really hard to enjoy being outside (unless it's 6:30 in the morning), and I've seriously contemplated becoming nocturnal simply so I could enjoy the outdoors again. However, recalling everything I learned at the DV shelter (also home to the Rape Crisis Center) deterred me, so instead, I'll just be grateful for rainy days.

On this rainy day, however, I spent much of it inside, squeezing out a literature review for my boss. It's interesting how much easier it is to write when you're just shooting the breeze on your blog than when you're writing for someone else, and the pressure of maintaining their reputation is breathing down your neck. Three cheers for experience!

Yesterday was Day 1 of the Jogging/Walking Group for the Lawrence University Ward, and I think it was pretty successful. I'm really glad people are excited about it, and given that I really have no experience leading such a group, enthusiasm from everyone else is pretty essential. I'm so excited to help people reach their goal of running a 5k by the end of the summer (well, running in a 5k race, because the training will require we run several 5k's). It's such a great feeling to accomplish something physically when at any point in your life you never thought you could. What a high. It's addictive.

Yesterday, I went to Valeo in Topeka to interview for my internship position. Other than the commute, I'm not sure I could ask for a better internship. It's not paid, but I'll take working on my own dime over having to deal with office politics. The environment there is extremely supportive, and my supervisor told me point blank that she isn't there to make me a great social worker, but she will make me a great psychotherapist, if I'm willing to do the work. I am, I am! They had a few gals who had done their internship there and are now employees, and they said it's by far the best internship KU has a relationship with. They even compared it to the agency I was hoping to work with, and said the other agency just doesn't offer the range of experience this one does. I'm really excited to start.

Last Sunday, we spent the day at the Trunnells' while they were at a wedding. Babysitting their dog was really easy, because she slept most of the time, so I was able to finally sit down and make up goals for myself. Ashley's been a really good influence on me in that sense. It feels good to have direction. Part of my stress is feeling like I don't have a plan for what's to come. It also calms my nerves whenever we're gone with the dogs for a long time, and we come home to find Chuck depressed-- I just remind myself that in three years, he'll have a feline companion (because yes, that's included in my goals-- as if that's a surprise to anyone that knows me).

We made bread today! And I'll only say two things: 1)Never forget to include the salt in the recipe and 2)Good grief, I'm excited to have the KitchenAid (I say that like I did the mixing, when really I sat there and watched Bobby mix everything by hand). How many days until Christmas?

I should probably be a little embarassed.

2009-05-29T16:25:00.000-07:00

But I'm not.

You see, a few days ago, the MIL called to ask us a very serious question regarding a very important matter: would Bobby and I be willing to combine our Christmas gift this year and receive... wait for it...

a KITCHENAID MIXER?!

A little background: Once upon a time, I worked at Linens 'n Things. It was actually a really fun job, because I worked in the kitchen/housewares section, and I spent most of my shift walking up and down the aisles, planning out which gadgets I would have someday, and imagined beautiful place settings with shiny food processors. I don't really consider myself very girly, but I do get excited about kitchen stuff. Up, high on a shelf, were the KitchenAid mixers. I would gaze at them longingly, knowing full well that it would be a long, long time before I could have one.

Well, that long time ends NOW (or this December, at least). Come this Christmas, Bobby and I will be proud owners of a beautiful KitchenAid mixer in green apple. I am SO excited!

You know, I would say "it's the little things in life," but to me, this is a really, really big thing. I didn't really get all that excited about graduating college, but acquiring this beautiful piece of machinery makes me feel like I've arrived.

This is when you thank me for taking two giant steps back for feminism. I apologize.

So today marked the second of 6 days of my Mental Health and Psychopathology class. My brain feels extremely mushy. Fortunately, I enjoy reading the DSM-IV-TR (as exhausting as it may be), so the homework isn't so bad. I was a little concerned about my social welfare (no pun intended) after a not so great impression of my first day, but it's improved dramatically. I've had more social work experience than a lot of people my age, so I have to be careful to not come off as a know-it-all (because I certainly don't know it all).

In pet news (because I KNOW you care), Garmin has really put on weight since we increased his food, and on a negative note, I'm kind of mad at the shelter he was in. We've only increased his food over the past two weeks, and he's already looking fantastic (not fat-- but he actually has muscle and you can't see his ribs), so they were feeding him way too little. I really thought he was sick for a while, but he looks amazing now, and he has so much energy. Thank goodness, because I love the little bugger.

Peli has had to adjust as a result. She used to be able to push Garmin around, but now he's got a good ten pounds on her, so she gets beat up a lot. She's used to being the alpha dog, so she's compensating with being extremely affectionate with us.

Chuck is Chuck. He hasn't jumped out of any windows lately, so we're pleased.

I'll be so glad when allergy season is over. It'll be nice having a husband again, rather than a congested heap of unconscious on the floor.

Ode to Pearl Izumi

2009-05-25T12:14:00.000-07:00

Dearest Pearl Izumi,

Not so long ago, I was a foolish lass who didn't know any better. In those days, when I felt the urge to go running, I would put on an old pair of soccer shorts and a cotton t-shirt. When time came to train for a triathlon, my husband cut up a t-shirt to make a tank top (later declared a "skank top") to wear when training. Cotton was the only fabric I knew, and for such reason, it fulfilled my every need.

With the upcoming triathlon, we purchased a triathlon top and shorts from you, and I was extremely grateful for how light the clothing felt. I hardly noticed it on my body, and after working hard, I noticed there were no sleeves to weigh my arms down, and sweat could quickly leave my overheating body. I caught a glimpse of my silhouette on the pavement, and was pleased to look like a legitimate runner.

A while later, I purchased my first real pair of running shoes, picked out with the assistance of a running shop employee who assisted me in finding a pair that would fit my paddle feet properly and correct my form. After a few jogs in the new footwear, I was able to purchase a couple running tops. Sadly, they did not have the built in bra like the tri top, but I was so grateful to have something to wear every other day for my run, rather than progressively disgusting each day with the sweat accumulation in the tri top. How wonderful to feel so graceful and cool.

Then, sadly, we left our Pearl Izumi running top AND shorts at my mother in law's house after a round of laundry. Unable to make the drive back for another week, I felt lost without my running companions. That's okay, I thought, I lived so long running in a cut up t-shirt and soccer shorts, I can do it again.

Oh, Pearl Izumi, I strayed from the goodness of your clothing, and I swear to never do it again! Running in the Kansas humidity in shorts without a liner was a mistake deemed cruel and unusual! The cotton clinging to my sweaty flesh made the heat deplorable, unbearable, and my training was considerably hindered. Forgive me, Pearl Izumi, for I attempted the miles of running without your help, and I have been humbled. Never again will I lace up my shoes without the cooling assurance of your slick fabric against my skin. I run so I can be healthy-- I wear you so I can run.

Thank you for being so awesome.

Your devoted wearer,

Katie Brigman

Holy crazy town.

2009-05-13T15:50:00.001-07:00

It's been a while.

Not a horribly long while, but I am constantly reminding myself what day it is and how much time has passed. SO MUCH has happened in a short amount of time that it feels like it should be June. Oh, well-- I have a dog sleeping at my feet and another sleeping on a huge pile of blankets, so all is well in the world.

Garmin has adjusted nicely to his new family. We've learned that he's a people dog, meaning he whines incessantly when he can hear us outside the apartment door getting ready to come in. He's house trained, though he's had a couple of accidents (he gets scared and piddles). He wants nothing more than to be friends with Chuck, and Chuck is starting to be okay with that.

After acquiring internet today, I feel so connected with the real world. I was able to adjust my fall enrollment so that all of my classes fall on Thursday, making it so I only have to commute to Topeka three days a week as opposed to the original four (or three with one EXTREMELY long day). For this I am grateful. I am also extremely grateful for an apartment that allows two dogs and a cat, and that it's in one of the complexes on Lawrence's Cheapest Places To Live list. Granted, we don't have much storage, but there's plenty of open space for the dogs to wrestle and for Chuck to get extremely anxious.

I had concerns about being in Kansas, what with it not having Utah's outdoor-oriented atmosphere, but in the short week we've been here, Bobby and I have been hiking, biking, running, and going to parks almost every day (usually a couple of those a day). Amid all the activity, Bobby was able to find a job at Urban Outfitters, which is pretty rockin, as it means eventually I may be able to afford the clothing there (after some money gets saved up again, of course). We're starting to recognize some of the poor student panic, which is always exciting. We've made it through before, and we'll make it again.

Speaking of jobs, I was able to get on as a research assistant for one of the doctoral candidates in KU's social work program. I'm really excited about it because he's working on stuff that I'm really interested in. It's a temporary position now, but it could possibly become regular (unlikely, but possible) so I'm just keeping my fingers crossed. It's a pretty sweet gig-- I can work whenever I want, so class schedule won't interfere. It also means I'm going to try to find another job, at least for the time being, so if any of the Kansas folk hear of anything, I'm wide open to ideas. Hopefully I'll get a call from at least one of the places I've submitted an application to, which would be grand.

The humidity is driving me a little crazy, but I'll readjust. It makes me feel sort of lame for joking about how easy training is going to be once we returned to Kansas, what with the lower elevation and all. You don't really notice how easy it is to breathe when the sweat refuses to evaporate off your flesh. Thank goodness my hair is so short now that it won't curl.

Peli's trying to eat the trash. I'm assuming that's her signal for me to give her dinner.

Garmin's first day.

2009-05-03T07:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we awoke to a very rainy Saturday morning. I was pleased, because it meant we would spend the entire day inside packing (Bobby is easily distracted by outdoor adventures). I prompted Bobby to make the trailer reservation, and shortly thereafter we had the call telling us to pick our trailer up in Pleasant Grove. On our way out, Bobby asked, "Want to stop by the animal shelter while we're out here?" Of course, he wasn't really asking for permission. He was asking just so I would get excited.

At the trailer rental place, the poor guy working was left stranded by the U-Haul folks who are usually there, and he was left to figure out how to process our reservation after having only been shown how to do it once before. Three tries later, we had a trailer, and we went to the animal shelter at around 11:00 (the time is important for later in the story, I promise).

Immediately after walking in, we saw an adorable pair of kittens that couldn't have been older than three weeks old. They looked like bobble heads with teeny, tiny paws. We went into the first dog room, and were only mildly impressed with the selection (apparently it was Rat Terrier day at the shelter). The stray section was locked, so we walked out and asked the lady at the front desk if we could see the strays. She said it would be five to ten minutes. At this point, it was about 11:25.

So into the cat room we went. They didn't have any kittens in there, which was surprising to me (it's kitten season), but there was this weird Siamese with inside out ears (apparently it's a genetic trait some cats have). It was also a little cross eyed, and I fell in love.

Bobby hates cats, though, so I didn't push it.

A lady came out and said she could take us in to see the strays. She said the dogs in pens 1-16 were up for adoption. I took that to mean there would be 16 dogs to see, but it actually ended up being about 7. Many of the cages were empty, which is a good thing (more space means fewer euthanasia). I wasn't particularly interested in any of the dogs, because there weren't any females (I have an irrational fear of dog penis). However, there was one dog that didn't bark once. Upon closer inspection, we could tell he was a pit bull/heeler mix, just like our little Peli. He was very interested in receiving affection through the chain link door, so we asked to play with him. The lady came over and said, "Oh, I LOVE this dog!" and took him out. She tried to get the leash on him as he ran out of the gate, but he was too fast. Bobby got down on the ground and said, "Hey, come here!" and the dog ran into his lap.

Moments later, we were in the "Get Acquainted" room with an extremely excited dog. He was jumping into our laps, desperate for some much needed attention. Of course, there was the dog penis, so I wasn't warming up to him as quickly as Bobby. The little boy fell in love with Bobby very soon, though, and would not leave his lap. Bobby then started saying things that I would never have expected.

"You know, we were planning on getting a second dog anyway..."
"Look at how sweet he is!"
And then finally...
"Why don't we adopt him?"

Usually I'm the one making impulsive adoption requests. This time, I was the one being paranoid/rational.

"We're moving on Tuesday. He still has balls."
"Your mom will KILL us if we have a second dog."
"He HAS A PENIS."

However, his likeness to Peli did soften my heart, as did his sweet temperament and his lack of barking. He's larger than Peli, and brindle, making the pit bull show more and thus make me feel safer running by myself if I had him with me. He wasn't shy with strangers AT ALL (a very nice change to Peli's typical reaction to new people), which meant he could eventually be a therapy dog.

I looked at Bobby, took a deep breath, and said, "Okay. Go tell them we're adopting him."

Bobby ran out like a giddy child on Christmas day to tell the people at the front desk the good news. We're adopting a dog! We're going to save a canine life from the perils of shelter living! No longer would he be an option for euthanasia-- he's going to a home where he'll sleep in a bed with people and get training and have a big sister to play with all the time. We're pretty ideal pet parents, if I do say so myself.

Bobby returned to the "Get Acquainted" room looking absolutely crestfallen. "They don't do adoptions after 11:30." A quick look at the clock said it was 11:45.

I was about to get all up on my soap box. These people work at an animal shelter, which should mean they want animals to get adopted. They want their lives to be saved, and here they have a fantastic couple that wants to adopt an adult stray, and they're turning us away? Really?

"Go explain the situation." Bobby returned to tell them we'd be moving out of state in a couple days, and we really cannot come back on Monday to get him, simply because that does not give our other dog enough time to get used to him before spending two days in a car. The gal behind the desk said she'd make a call, but she didn't think she could do anything about the policy.

Thankfully, the gal who originally took us to the stray room appeared from a back office and, after hearing our situation, said, "Let's do it!"

While filling out the paperwork, we learned that he was only technically a stray. His previous owners had him as an indoor and outdoor dog, and his pen outside did not have a lock on it. He got out constantly (the owners said the neighbors kept letting him out, but they refused to put a lock on his pen), and was picked up by the animal control officer five times previously. The last time, they contacted the owners, and they relinquished him to the shelter. Two months later, we showed up and took him home.

Come Monday, he'll be de-balled (yay!). Since arriving in the Brigman abode, he and Peli have had a non-stop play date, which is amazing (Peli has been skittish around dogs since she was attacked at the dog park a couple months ago). Chuck hasn't quite adjusted yet, but Garmin hasn't reacted aggressively when he's seen the cat, which is also great. He's a huge snuggle bum and is getting used to being allowed on the furniture (we're assuming he wasn't allowed before, because he really hesitated before jumping up on the couch, and opted to sleep on the floor next to the bed). He's so stinking adorable, and I'm even getting used to the dog penis.

He's not a black lab, he's not a girl, and his name isn't Pini ("Garmin" is the name of our favorite cycling team), but he's a big lover, he adores Peli, AND he's house trained (BONUS!). Really, the most important thing to me was rescuing a dog from the shelter, and we were able to do just that.

Plus, he's the same mix as Peli. In case you were wondering, the heeler/pit bull mix is superior to any of the designer breeds out there.

The Final Stretch

2009-04-21T08:09:00.001-07:00

My intent is to document our experience last night for memory's sake, as I so desperately want to cling to the laughter and comfort that embodied the bbq our friends threw, but it must wait for a moment, because there is something else that so desperately needs our attention:

Oakley sunglasses.

Not just any Oakley sunglasses, though. We're talking about the Women's Radar Path.

I've had these for a couple weeks now, but haven't had time to get out on my bike. I wore them running, and loved them, but couldn't fully appreciate them without the 17 mph breeze created when cycling. This weekend was my chance, however, with the beautiful 65 degree weather and virtually no responsiblities (well, Bobby had finals this week, but that would only count if he actually studied). I put them on and was feeling pretty good about myself, because these actually fit my face, and they're bright pink.

There was a slight problem, however, when I got on the bike and started going. In spite of the protection, I found myself squinting. A lot. After a couple miles of this contortion, my face was tired. Why the heck was I squinting? So I consciously forced myself to open my eyes, and I almost cried from happiness. My glasses were so light that I didn't notice any weight difference between wearing glasses and not wearing glasses. They fit my face so perfectly that they did not shift or fall, allowing me to focus completely on the road and my surroundings rather than worrying about a frame falling in my line of sight or having to push them up the bridge of my nose.

Not only did I look hot, but these glasses were actually doing everything they were supposed to. If they could reproduce, I would have their babies.

Speaking of looking hot, I already have a well established cycling tan. I was sporting a capped sleeve top yesterday, and a client said, "Nice farmer's tan." I think it was meant to be snarky, but I took it as a compliment.

So on to last night. First, Bobby left me to go on a bike ride and said he would meet me there, and I ended up very lost in Springville, having never gone to Rob's on my own before. My GPS was of no service to me, as Rob's address doesn't exist in the world of Garmin (blast!). After finally making it there, we chatted, laughed, made awkward jokes, and just had a really good time. Rob and Kelli made some veggie kabobs for me, which made a fabulous addition to my homemade black bean burgers (which, Rob said, actually tasted like real hamburgers). Peli enjoyed a hotdog and a half, the half being a gift from Elise (Rob's daughter) where Elise almost lost all of her fingers. Kelli told some funny stories about waiting for Rob while he served in Guatamala, and I talked with Sarah about her wedding plans. Kelli let me try on her new running tops to see if they fit. Thank you, Pearl Izumi, for making me a small! We're ordering Kelli some replacement XS tops. The whole night was just a comforting setting, and ended with Sarah and Marty giving me a ride home while Bobby went running with Rob and Chris. It was bittersweet-- such a fun evening, but I know we're leaving in a couple weeks. Why did I have to really start liking Utah when it was so close to time to leave? It's so much easier to deal with the crazies when you have your group of friends that you can turn to. I'm really kicking myself for not seeing all the good Utah had to offer sooner. It's really a lesson Heavenly Father has taught me, and I am going to look for the good in every situation, circumstance, and environment. It's not worth spending any time feeling sad about something when there's an abundance of good surrounding it.

So on that note, I'm still excited about Kansas. I'm excited to do some triathlons and bike races this summer, and perhaps even a half marathon (I'm really starting to enjoy running again). I'm looking forward to having a garage and counter space and time to spend with my husband. I'm really excited about my brother's wedding and being so close to family.

The beautiful thing about being an adult means that we don't have to be away from any place for long.

And something to think about.

Garage sales are your friend.

2009-04-18T14:51:00.000-07:00

We had a garage sale today with the intent of having another on the 2nd, but this one was so successful that we don't have to have another. Rock! Of course, our landlords ended up buying most of our stuff to put back into our apartment for the next tenants, but that's certainly okay by me.

Peli has a weird growth on her foot that she didn't seem to notice until we took her to the vet. Because her doctor had to poke and prod to try to figure out what it was, she also figured out it was there, and has since taken to trying to chew it off. She's part pit bull, and thus has a very high pain tolerance (one of the reasons they are the preferred breed for fighting), so it's okay by her that she chews it right off and has a gaping wound in her foot. We've wrapped it in gauze and prewrap and tape, but she just chews that off as well. Sadly for her, we had to get a cone to make her leave it alone, and when it's on, she refuses to move. It'd be comical if I didn't love her so much and I hate to see her uncomfortable.

Work yesterday was an absolute nightmare. I woke up Friday morning thinking, "Man, I only have two weeks left. That's so sad!" and before the morning was over, as I cried in my office, I thought, "I still have two weeks left of this?!?" It was the craptastic day from Hades, and while the events would make a very excellent blog entry, I've fulfilled my need for processing (thanks to amazing coworkers, froyo, and a dance party in Kim's office) and confidentiality means I share nothing. I can say yesterday showed me why many social workers opt to get their concealed carry permit. It wasn't actually that bad, it just felt that bad for a little while yesterday, and I almost had Bobby come sit in my office with me just to feel safe. Here's to the next two weeks going more smoothly.

My application for a research position was sent in a few days ago for a social work professor at KU, and I received an email today to schedule an interview. As wonderful as it would be to have a few days off between the move and school starting, I'd feel kind of lame not working. It's nice having a purpose and doing something with my time, and it will certainly help out with the old debt problem. Dave Ramsey would not be pleased with our recent bike purchases, but it isn't certain that Bobby will be working at a bike shop in Lawrence (we're hoping!), so we have to stock up on a few things. Some people have food storage-- we have bike storage. That's almost as important, right?

I mentioned before that Chuck was being extra affectionate. Whatever the reason was, somehow its magnified itself, and Chuck cannot get enough attention. No complaints or anything-- I am loving it! I just hope it lasts after he's in a car for a couple days, which is pretty much his worst nightmare. Ah, well. I'll savor the next two weeks (TWO WEEKS!) just in case.

From CAWS, an animal rescue.

2009-04-14T15:58:00.000-07:00

Declawing! What You Need To Know

Declawing is akin to cutting off half the cat's toes. When the end digit, including the claw is removed, the sensory and motor nerves are cut, damaged and destroyed. They do not repair themselves or grow back for many months. Following the surgery there is a wooden lack of feeling, then a tingling sensation during the long convalescence while the cat must walk on the stub end of the second digit. Remember that during all this time the cat may not "rest" his feet as we would after a similar operation but must continue to scratch in his litter box, walk and attempt to jump as usual regardless of his pain. Most veterinarians in other countries refuse to do the operation.

Besides the physical mutilation, consider what declawing may do to the cat's emotions, the personality changes that may occur. Knowing he has not the means to defend himself, some cats follow the precept of the best defense is a good offense, and will bite at the least provocation (and it may truly be the least provocation.) Often times cats become "biters" when they can no longer rely on their security of their claws. Others become depressed and lose the loving personality that made you choose him to start with. Many cats also experience litter box problems.
If you really love your cat, you will want him to lead a long, happy life, giving and receiving love and affection. If you really love him, and care about him, don't declaw him. There are many alternatives such as nail trimming, training and soft paws claw covers. If you feel you must have a cat that is declawed due to outstanding circumstances please adopt a cat who has already been through this procedure rather than subjecting another one to it. CAWS has several cats who are already declawed. Please visit http://www.caws.org.

Best. Sunday. Ever.

2009-04-07T08:15:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning started with general conference, and I absolutely ADORED President Monson's talk. It was like it was catered just for me, and I love it when I walk away from a session feeling that way. Really, they're all catered to me, but this one struck a chord so strongly that I could feel my heart actually smiling. My daily prayers have consisted of asking for help in seeing the good in all things, and it's genuinely improved my attitude. I feel so much less stressed, which is good.

After the session concluded (and I had two loads of laundry folded-- because I'm a rockstar), we went over to Mapleton to spend some time with Chris, Linda, and their kids. They live on a fabulous piece of property with goats, chickens, and a cat. Chickens, in case you were wondering, are probably the most entertaining birds on the planet. They also lay an egg every 25 hours, and when you have 25 hens, that's a lot of eggs. We left with two dozen, and since they're free range, the eggs are so delicious. Two of the goats also gave birth in the past week, so I got to play with a very precious baby goat, and pretend to play with a very shy 4 day old goat (she wasn't feeling very social). They have the perfect setup-- a giant garden for fruits and vegetables, a few fruit trees, chickens for eggs, and then very friendly goats to play with. Who needs cable when you have that in your back yard? I wasn't even tempted to spend any time inside-- we went in quickly to grab a bite to eat, and then I was outside again, playing with their adorable little girls (who are SO stinking smart!) and feeling very centered in their very localized petting zoo. Our goal is to have a similar set up once we're done with school, hopefully in Colorado (we've grown quite fond of mountains) with chickens (just for eggs) and a cow (just for milk) and goats and sheep. Then our food won't have all the hormones and our animals will be treated humanely. It'll be a lot of work, but it'll be so much fun! And how nice will it be to feel so self sufficient?

When we returned home, I was sunburned and exhausted, but we went for a run anyway. Peli had been cooped up in the house all day and needed some mountain time. As we were running along the Shoreline trail, we saw some deer. A LOT of deer. We stopped to watch them, and Peli was completely oblivious, until one of them kicked a rock down the mountain. That immediately got Peli's attention, and OFF she went! Up the mountain, chasing what I'm sure she thought were dogs waiting to play. She made it pretty high up the mountain, but they ran off before she could get too close. The sudden sprint almost completely vertical made her very tired for the rest of the run, but when we went on the same run last night, she kept darting up the mountain to find deer. When she finally did, she was already worn out enough to not go all the way up to where they were, but she was so excited. I love that she would make such a terrible hunting dog.

28 days until we move to Kansas. I'm still extremely excited about graduate school, but I'm not as excited about leaving Utah anymore. The culture is still crazy, but we've found some really good friends, and like I said before, we're very fond of the mountains. We were laughing with Chris and Linda about how it "only" took us 2 years to find people we clicked with, and they said it was the same for them. Maybe it just takes that long to find a group of people when you're getting old like us. Of course, we were trying for the first year and a half to make friends with people our age, and we ended up becoming such good friends with people well into their 30s. Ah, well. We'll know better next time.

To work! 19 days left of that. I really hope the girl they hired to replace me is so stinking awesome that my coworkers are glad I left. I've grown quite fond of them as well, so I'd like to leave them with at least that. Let's just hope my training skills are effective.

Now really... to work!

OCD at its finest.

2009-03-26T07:33:00.001-07:00

Is it sick that I get a high from writing my class schedule in my planner? And that it makes me giddy to apply for jobs and such for when we return to Kansas?

Yes. It does.

I'm okay with that.

My first class as a Master's student is May 28th and ends June 13th. 3 credit hours completed in 6 days of class. I figure it can't be much worse than being at work for that time as far as my attention span goes, so it should be grand. My other class meets every Monday in June, and the first and last Tuesdays in June. By the end of my birthday month, I'll have 6 credits toward my graduate degree.

It makes my heart cry that it's snowing outside.

This would've been the ideal week for Kathleen to visit, because I have no desire to be outside on my bike. Last week was perfect riding weather, but I strapped myself to the trainer and did intervals so I wouldn't be riding as long. Ah, well. Another week of being on the trainer won't kill me.

We had a small dog staying with us for a weekend because a client couldn't hold on to him and he therefore risked being put to sleep. I think Chuck has noticed that we have had several animals come into our home that were temporary, and he's now worried that his status as a permanent family member isn't so secure. As a result, he's been a lot more affectionate. I won't complain.

40 days until we move back to Kansas. ROCK.

I might throw up.

2009-03-17T07:36:00.000-07:00

Tonight marks the first of what will become many, many visits between Kathleena and myself since we've been married folk. I didn't realize until Bobby asked me last night if Kathleen had visited before (silly Bobby and his silly memory), and I said no. Then I thought about it-- I haven't visited her either! We saw each other in Kansas over Christmas, but we hadn't visited one another in our living quarters since going from KS's to KB's. Craziness. So she will be here, and I am SO excited! No work for a few days (except Thursday-- silly group) and spending far too much time with my other me. Bobby may end up poking his eyes out by the end of her trip.

Last night was all sorts of crazy. I can't really go into details because it was with my job (and being a social worker is kind of like being a CIA agent), but how glorious it was to come home to a wonderful husband who made me dinner and wanted to go hiking with our dog. The hike may have gone better if Peli hadn't found something dead to roll in (why does she ALWAYS find the one dead thing in a five mile radius to roll in?), but she needed a bath anyway.

So how many folks watched the Big Love episode? I didn't, because I'm poor and don't have HBO (and having HBO may try to take away from my biking/hiking time, which no thanks), but I did find it on Youtube (everything is on youtube). I watched it out of curiousity, and because I wrote my article on it this week and thought it'd be good if I checked whether or not I had a reason to write the things I wrote. And... I did. I didn't write anything controversial or anything, but I did write that I pretty much had to choose between my family and the things I experienced in the temple, and as a result, my parents don't really speak to me anymore. Those things were so sacred to me that I lost my dad to experience them, and as a hardcore daddy's girl, it wasn't easy. But those experiences were special to me, so it was worth it. It was worth losing that much. So Tom Hanks (yes, the actor) and his grudge against Prop 8 decided to "cast pearls before swine" (not that I consider the public to be swine, per say [depending on the day], but they're not prepared to see/hear the things the episode showed). It made me sick to my stomach to watch it-- kind of like a car wreck-- but I must say, that ex-member consultant they got has an amazing memory. I've been going to the temple for a couple years now and I still need help. It won't hurt the church, of course, but it does make me sad that human decency and respect were the cost of getting a few more viewers this week.

And now my PSA since it's humping season: protect your dog/cat's carnal treasure. Get them spayed or neutered. If you have a dog and want to take them to the shelter, it's going to get put to sleep, simply because it's make-like-a-bunny time and puppies and kittens are everywhere. There's no room. And if you do adopt an animal, you've contracted with that animal that you will care for it and give it the best life possible until it dies. That's not until you kill it, but until it dies. You don't get to put an animal to sleep simply because you can't care for it but you don't want it to go to someone else. Geez.

It's been a week.

58 days and counting

2009-03-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

Seriously counting. I like to make lists and get all OCD with things that I'm excited about. How many paychecks do I have until we move to Kansas? Calculate how much goes to rent, insurance, bills, etc-- add up money from my newspaper articles and Bobby's bike shop pay check-- minus the bike stuff we're getting. Consider possible amount being added from TWO garage sales we'll be having come end of April. Sell sell sell! It's all I can do to now get boxes now and pack everything up. It wouldn't be so bad living out of boxes for a couple months, would it?

54 days until my last day at work. I have a lot to do between now and then-- organize the files, write a manual for my job, rewrite the volunteer training manual, figure out a system for tracking statistics for the new employee-- all in addition to my normal every day stuff.

9 days until Kathleen comes to Utah. YAY! It's not going to be fiscally exciting (zoom in on my empty wallet), but it'll be good to have time off of work and just chill with my best friend. I see lots of temple hopping in our immediate future. I saw her just this past Christmas, but hot dang, I could go for some Kathleena time on a daily basis (and according to my phone bill, I usually end up doing just that).

I've skipped a few articles that I've written as far as posting a link here goes, but someone left a comment on my article that seems especially potent. It might sound familiar (it's a post I put here last summer with some modifications), but it's something to pay attention to-- watch for cyclists. Seriously. We could die. http://www.tmi2day.com/2009/03/05/resist-the-temptation-ape-man/

Blessed Belly Butterflies

2009-02-25T08:00:00.000-08:00

Life has been a little too good lately (the kind of too good that makes me wonder if something horrible is lurking around the corner). I've got all of my paperwork sent in to KU to get me all squared away for my practicum, which makes me positively giddy with anticipation. Where will I go? What will I end up doing? It's like Christmas with the added bonus of no awkward familial obligations.

Utah had a very unseasonably warm day yesterday, and because I'm the lucky kid that gets to go into work on Saturday, I could take off early and go on a bike ride. Bike rides= love. Well, for the most part. We watched all the stages of the Tour of California and it made me want to go pro. Not because I'd get to ride all the time or that I'd get paid the big bucks to wear spandex on a daily basis, but because they clear the ENTIRE ROAD for the races. No cars (except support vehicles) to worry about hitting you, so gone are the visions of slipping on some gravel and a nonobservant vehicle running over your road rashed body. It's like holistic prozac. Of course, there were plenty of wrecks that caused several broken bones and concussions, but I think I could deal with that if I knew I wouldn't have a car running over me. I wish police officers would spend some time road cycling so they'd have sympathy for us and start enforcing the three feet law on all occasions instead of just the ones involving someone getting hit by a car. This is a fantastic list of things you can do when you're driving to make sure people like me don't die.

Oh, and Mr./Ms. UPS person? You kind of defeat the purpose of having a bike lane when you park in it. Jerk.

So I saw this video and it inspired me to get into weight lifting seriously. With Bobby in athletic training classes, I decided to take advantage of his knowledge and have him design a training plan for me. For the first couple of weeks, in addition to bike riding, I'm doing some light resistance training. So light, in fact, I'm using just me and the occasional resistance band. Push-ups, sit ups, squat jumps. I understood the need to build a base, like I do with cycling, but I thought the first couple of weeks were going to be dull and minimally beneficial. I was so wrong! Squat jumps are the DEVIL. I only did three sets of ten reps, and my bum is so sore. Three sets of fifteen reps push ups (regular, not modified) is kicking my trash on a daily basis. Bob and Jillian would be so proud.

The relief society presidency from our new ward came to visit me yesterday, and our snow boards were at the top of the stairs, our bikes at the bottom, our trainer in our living room, and pictures of us surfing and the like around the apartment. They said they were tired just looking at everything. I sleep SO MUCH BETTER when I'm physically active though. Which is fantastic, because that's usually when my anxiety gets bad.

Speaking of which, I slept very well last night, but I also had a nightmare that happened the night before, and I think it's trying to tell me something. I had a dream that three individuals were trying to kill me. Those three individiuals?

The Jonas Brothers.

And off to work!

A night (or three) in Vegas

2009-02-18T07:14:00.000-08:00

Las Vegas has always had an appeal to me. Anywhere you can go and potentially see a trans-vestite/gender/sexual is fantastic in my book. Ever seen "To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything"? It's quite possibly one of my favorite movies of all time (Patrick Swayze, bless his cancer-ridden-heart, makes a beautiful woman).

So when a three-day-weekend arose, and we found out Bobby's mom and step-dad would be coming out, we decided to make the drive south to gambling haven.

It was slightly atypical.

Friday night, our arrival, consisted of dropping off our belongings at a complete stranger's home. Bobby's friend Joe's mission buddy's parents were housing us for the first night until Bobby's mom's cousin would allow us to sleep on her floor (long story). We then headed out the door ("we" being Bobby, Joe, Bobby and Joe's friend Brock, and myself) to hit the strip and meet up with another mission buddy of Joe's, and his wife. Turns out the new buddy and his wife are vying for a position on the Olympic Speedwalking Team for 2012. We went from New York, New York (for those of who you are familiar with the strip) to the Bellagio going at about a 5.5 mph pace. The intent was to go to the front of the Bellagio and look at the pretty flowers, but we instead went in the wrong way and could not access the front. We made it out of the back of the Bellagio, and went at about a 6 mph pace until we were back at New York, New York, while I asked myself the entire time when we were actually going to go into some store/casino/hotel to look around. Never happened. By the time we made it back to New York, New York, we were sweating profusely and could scarcely breathe. Thank you, speed walking champs.

So we went back to where we were staying and crashed.

The bonus of the strangers' home was they are dog lovers. They had four little mixes, and one of them only had one eye, so I was in doggie heaven. I snuggled and got kisses and snuggled some more, making me miss my little girl a little bit less (just a little bit).

The next morning, Bobby went on a bike ride with Joe and Brock, and I went to the Las Vegas Temple.

Of course, I had decided on a whim to go, so I didn't have my recommend, and since I live in Happy Valley, my bishop didn't remember me by my name when they called him (I've only been in the ward for two months, and with new people all the time, it's hard for names to stick). I had to go into great detail about what I do and what Bobby does before the bishop remembered me. If you're ever in Vegas, definitely go to the temple. It's beautiful. The Celestial Room is probably my favorite of all I've seen.

Of course, later that evening when we met up Bobby's mom, step dad, Bobby's mom's cousin and her husband for dinner, I was informed that the part of town where the temple is happens to be where all the shootings happen. I'm glad I didn't know that prior to going.

After the temple, I went back to where we were staying to grab Bobby and go to one of my favorite places on earth: the animal shelter. It's very sad to go if you really think about it, so I choose to just focus on giving homeless pets some love. The NSPCA is a great facility for cats. They have several rooms filled with kitty condos, cat trees, and ledges that the cats can just roam freely in. No cages! I fell in love with two kitties- one with a squidgy eye infection, and the other one's inner eye lid was fused together on its right eye, so it had a permanent glazed over look. I like animals with deformed eyes. I think it's because that makes them special.

That evening was a lot of quality time with Bobby's mom, step dad, and Bobby's mom's cousin and her family. Lots of tongue biting ensued.

Bobby's mom's cousin has a dog who lives outside. We already know I'm anti outdoor pets, so I need not go into how I feel about the dog living outside. The dog's name is Sam, and she's a black lab heeler mix. She's 8 years old, but has all the energy of a puppy (heeler mixes tend to always be energetic). When Sunday rolled around, church didn't start until 2, so I spent a lot of time playing fetch in the back yard. Bobby and I ended up letting Sam in a bit more often than her usual allotted time (she sleeps inside the house), and it wasn't long before she knew who to follow. Why have a dog if you aren't going to give it constant loving? I tried to make up for it in the short time I was there.

Church was... weird. The lessons and talks were really good, the usual good churchiness, but there was a lot of big hair. Really big hair. I was very easily distracted by it, which is definitely all on me, but it certainly needs commenting on. Weird.

We went back to the strip Sunday night to walk around, and if you didn't already know, never look down when you're at the strip. There are lots of people who don't speak english handing out cards with pictures of naked women on them, which is very sad. As a result, there are lots of these cards on the ground, and it's hard to not feel sorry for the women in the pictures, and for the people handing them out trying to make some money.

We went to MGM, where I had to see the lions. I was told I must go see the lions, especially when I said we couldn't do anything that cost money. There was ONE lion, and it was sleeping. Some guy was petting it, which was pretty cool, but it was still slightly disappointing. We went back to the Bellagio to see the plants, and I was impressed. They made pandas out of leaves, and the baby panda was adorable. When we walked out, the fountains started going off, which was really impressive. When we went back to pick up Bobby's mom, we went through Paris, which was FANTASTIC. Seriously. I ached so badly to hop on a plane and go to the real Paris. The whole floor was transformed into a little Parisian village, with shops and food, et zut, je voudrais voyager a Paris maintenant! Mais non, je doit aller a KU pour trois semestre, et je n'ai pas l'argent pour mon voyage. En temps, je pense.

Monday morning meant quick shopping with Bobby's mom and my pleading to go home as soon as possible so we could get Peli. It was the longest I'd been away from her, and it was all I could do to not call my boss every three minutes to check in on her. We picked her up at 11 p.m. Monday night, just in time for her to pee on Ronda's couch. Fantastic.

My favorite parts of Vegas? The temple. And the animal shelter. Next time, I think I'll avoid travelling so far to get my fix.

Is there any truth to this?

2009-02-11T11:26:00.000-08:00

Defense asks for no Mormons on murder trial jury
February 11th, 2009 @ 10:10am
OGDEN, Utah (AP) -- An attorney for a man charged with aggravated murder have filed a motion to keep off the jury any members of the Mormon church who might believe that the only way for him to be forgiven by God is to be executed.

Sharon Sipes, a public defender for Riqo Perea, filed the motion in 2nd District Court. She says a belief among members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is that the only way to receive true forgiveness from God after committing a serious offense is to shed one's own blood.

Sipes says that although the church has indicated blood atonement isn't part of official doctrine, members widely believe it.

Perea, 21, is charged with two counts of aggravated murder in a gang-related 2007 shooting. Perea could face the death penalty.

------

Information from: Standard-Examiner

(Copyright 2009 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)

Because no one told me. And I'm anti capital punishment. But tell me what you think/have heard.

My eyeballs hurt.

2009-02-11T08:37:00.000-08:00

My latest addiction is www.babysteals.com. No, I'm not pregnant, but since we started on Dave Ramsey's plan, I'm always looking for good deal. Technically, we shouldn't be buying anything until our credit cards are paid off, but I feel deserving to treat myself now and again. And I'm a sucker for baby shoes (always have been).

I've been reading about Obama's stimulus plan, and say what you want about what it's going to do to the economy (good or bad), I'm really excited about it. Simply put, I'm going to feel a lot better about life when my credit card debt is gone. We'll still have student loans to pay off, but those are legitimate-- the church is actually okay with education debt. The credit card debt was just us being stupid. Some of it is medical bills, but I don't even consider that legitimate (darn my lack of grace).

Beautiful.

Yes, we're spending more money that we don't have. Yes, it could kill the economy even more. How? I don't know. I spent most of economics class knitting or sleeping. As a social worker, I have a lot of job security, so I'm not exactly concerned about it personally. It's very unfortunate for other people, but they should have had the foresight to go into the best field ever! Kidding. Kind of.

So last week, I got off of work early on Friday for my massive hours I put in on the previous Saturday for a grant that we thought was due, but wasn't (but three cheers for having all the data for it for when it is due!). We went to Dragon Dreams Boutique simply because it reminded me of a store I'd see on Mass Street in Lawrence. I'm not really into dragons, but I do like wind chimes and zen gardens and incense and soothing music. They had pretty fountains and jewelry made by a lady from South Africa, and I loved every bit of it (except for maybe the dragons). They even had a DOG in the store. I could have taken a nap there. Anyway, Bobby bought some nag champa and I got a goddess charm that I'm currently wearing around my neck. For everyone who buys something, you enter a drawing. Bobby started filling it out, but I snatched it from him because a)His handwriting is like a boy's and b)He never wins anything. Before we got married, I won pretty much any drawing I entered. So I filled out my information, and yesterday, I got a call telling me I'm a rockstar and I won a big basket full of organic soaps and stuff.

In other words, it's been a good week.

If you haven't already, look at my previous post and tell me about your Blackberry. I'm not kidding, folks! I need your input. I have no expertise on the matter with my flip phone with no features. Someday I'll catch up, but only out of necessity-- not by choice.

Help.

2009-02-10T12:57:00.000-08:00

So I'm writing an article, and I want it to be fantastic. To me, fantastic-ness requires diversity (hence my struggle in happy valley. Kidding! Kind of.), so I'm reaching out every where to get as large a sample size as possible. What important topic requires such outreach, you ask?

Blackberrys.

They're an addiction, and it's fantastic. My husband couldn't imagine surviving without access to his emails as soon as they are sent. He has forgotten what it's like to wait until you get home to check and see if you won whatever it was on eBay you were bidding for or what it's like to not get angry emails from in-laws when you're driving (grrrr).

So tell me your story. But first, tell me your
Name:
Profession (Student, job, stay at home mom, super hero to the stars):
Can I use your name if/when I quote you?:

Then on to the good stuff.
1. Which Blackberry do you have?
2. How is your life different since getting your Blackberry?
3. What happens if you leave the house and have forgotten your Blackberry?
4. What makes the Blackberry different than other cell phones you’ve had?
5. What is your favorite feature?
6. What is the most interesting thing you can tell me about your Blackberry (its name, an experience you’ve had with it, etc)?
7. Anything else you might add.

You can answer in a comment here, or you can email your response to me at kaitlin.stewart@gmail.com. I'm hoping for a smashing article (and it will be about Blackberry addiction, not about how you're a fool because you can't part with it-- it's a societal norm expose, not a you're-a-freak expose), and if you like, I'd be willing to email you any parts that include you in it when I send it in to my editor. I don't want to send out the whole thing, or people are less inclined to check out the paper :).

So if you're willing, I'll love you forever. And give you my kidney if you ever need it.

Thanks!

Bodily Pride

2009-02-09T08:13:00.000-08:00

Lately, Bobby and I have been really good kids about what we eat. The focus has travelled a lot during our 18+ months of marriage, from diets to not caring to exercising and bulking up to more diets. Ever since I stopped eating meat, I feel more energetic, and when I do get tired, it feels more legitimate (more exhuastion and less laziness). I'm not trying to pawn off not eating baby animals on anyone else, but living in Happy Valley where skinny is a necessity, I may convert plenty. Several volunteers at the shelter have asked if I've been losing weight (which used to be music to my ears, and now I just shrug it off). I simply tell them that all I've done differently is give up meat, and they ask all sorts of questions about how long I've been doing it, what I eat instead, etc. Three cheers for saving baby animals!

Bobby and I have also made a goal of eating 5 servings of fruits and vegetables a day. Ever since he started his Chronic Disease Prevention class, he's been gung ho about fixing our diet to align ourselves with nutritional guidelines as opposed to the western civilization diet. It's become a very colorful game trying to figure out how to put more veggies into every meal, and I take a lot of oranges to work to snack on. The other night, I was really craving juice. We didn't have any (we're too poor to buy 100% juice), but we did have two small oranges left. I peeled them, threw them in the blender with a couple of ice cubes, and Oh. My. Gosh. I shall never drink store bought orange juice again! It was SO good, and I knew exactly how many servings of fruit I was getting. The next morning, I wanted juice again, quite proud of my discovery, but we had no more oranges. We did have apples, though, and I'm a big fan of apple juice. Pulpy apple juice can be just as delicious, right? So I cored a couple apples, threw them in the blender, and pushed the button. I should have known right then that this was a poor idea. The apples did not blend as easily because they aren't as juicy as oranges. I added some water. And some more. I stuck utensils down in the blender to try to make it chop more efficiently. Finally, I had some consistency that resembled a beverage, and poured it into a cup. Normally, I'm not a huge fan of apples. I can relate to Lexie in Grey's when she says she hates them, and doesn't think they should be allowed to be fruit. They're good in pies, juice form, and as applesauce, but that's really the extent of it. Compared to other fruits, apples don't really do much for me. Apple juice made from throwing a couple of apples into a blender is probably one of the most heinous things I've ever put into my mouth. And because we're very poor, I couldn't let the fresh produce go to waste. I dry heaved that cup of nasty all the way down my gullet, determined to get those 2 servings of fruit.

Definitely do not try that at home.

This calls for a celebration.

2009-01-24T08:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, I got paid. Yesterday morning, Bobby paid off one of the credit cards.

Two credit cards down, two to go.

We're pretty much rockstars.

The past couple of days have been really interesting with hotline calls at the shelter. I work at a domestic violence shelter for women and children fleeing abuse. In an abusive situation, the batterer is deemed dangerous, and when a woman decides to flee her batterer, it becomes the most dangerous time of the process. The batterer may decide to retaliate, so keeping the location of the shelter confidential is extremely important. To me, this is common sense. Perhaps that's because I've had a year and a half of shelter experience, but I'm pretty sure I made that assumption prior to working at a DV shelter.

Imagine my surprise when on Thursday and Friday, I received the following phone calls:

Me: Center for Women and Children.
Lady: Hi, where are you located?
Me: Excuse me?
Lady: Where are you located?
Me: Why are you asking?
Lady: Well, I'm a Young Women's leader, and we just made a large batch of cookies that we want to donate! So we need to know where you're located so we can bring them to you!
Me: (Dumbfounded) We're a domestic violence shelter. For the safety of our clients, we keep the location of the shelter confidential.
Lady: We just want to bring you cookies.
Me: We don't do things like that.
*Click*

The next day.

Me: Center for Women and Children.
Guy: Where are you located?
Me: Why are you asking?
Guy: Well, uh, um, I have a friend, she's uh, staying there, and I know you guys are located in Provo, and so, uh, I was just wondering where you guys were specifically.
Me: (Thinking- really? Does my voice just scream Stupid?) We're a domestic violence shelter for women and children fleeing domestic violence. Not only can I neither confirm or deny whether your friend is actually staying here, but I cannot reveal the location of the shelter for the safety of the women and children staying here.
Guy: Oh, oh. Okay. Yeah, I was just curious, since my friend is staying there. Yeah. Just curious.
*click*

Really, people? Can I have the location of where YOU are, so at the end of a bad day, I can come over and do the non-violent equivalent of throwing bricks at your head?

Kthanksbye.

You know the drill by now.

2009-01-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

http://www.tmi2day.com/2009/01/22/growing-up-gifted/

Comment. Make my editor smile.

Bobby missed a final last semester. He called me devastated, on the verge of tears, as he had just learned that a final BYU's website said was a testing center final was actually a scheduled sit-down-in-class final. It was with a professor that I had a couple semesters prior, and he was one of the few professors that I felt genuinely embodied teaching at a church school. He's a stake president, and when you find that out, you aren't surprised at all (See: President Elliot-like). So I sent a little email explaining the situation and asked if there was anything Bobby could do to make up for it. He let him take a take home final, which was pretty amazing.

So I decided I'd make him cookies. All winter break went by and I didn't get it done. Then, on Sunday, I made some strawberry thumbprint cookies and a put a plate out, wrapped in syran wrap, for Bobby to take to campus to leave in this professor's office. He came home from class for his two hour break with the intent of picking up the cookies, and what did he find?

Syran wrap chewed through, and all but three cookies missing.

Rest assured, Chuck had the diarrhea the rest of the day.

I have a secret! And I'm NOT telling you in this blog.

2009-01-21T08:12:00.000-08:00

Okay, so it's a little difficult to not comment at all about what happened yesterday. In spite of having half of our staff gone, leaving Suelen and myself to tackle phones, clients, and finding out fifteen minutes prior that a tour of funders would occur, it was hard to not feel hopeful and giddy about the speeches and parades and the four years to come. Obama's speech was magnificent. Reading it just made me so fired up for what I do every day, and I'm actually not as ashamed of my country at the moment (though the cynic still lives, don't kid yourself).

Bobby's new bike came in yesterday (yes, another one), so he's like a kid in a candy store. It's not quite put together yet, but it's pretty. A pink headset will do that to any bike, really. He's started riding almost every day again, which was met with a stern lecture from a friend of his, because apparently the pollution is really bad in the valley right now. It's hard to not giggle when people say things like that, because I can't help but think about all the times I was walking across KU's campus and always managed to get stuck behind someone smoking. The air can't be THAT bad, so I'll take my chances with being outside.

The no meat thing is still going strong. I don't even miss it, which is weird, but could have something to do with imagining the crying baby animal every time I see a hamburger. In a weird way, I think Peli senses my vegetarian habits and is pleased with it, because she has been especially snorgly lately. Maybe she was concerned for a while that I was going to eat her someday.

This past Christmas, we started our tradition of baking a birthday cake and giving something to Jesus for His birthday. I'd talked about doing it the first year we were married, but we were travelling all day on Christmas that we didn't have a chance to do it. I decided to give Jesus the gift of reading my scriptures every day (something I'd been seriously slacking on), and let me tell you- it's like prozac on paper! I just have felt so much happier these days, and there has been less contention and stress in our home, and that's really the only change that has been made. It's not a ton of reading-- usually half a chapter to a whole chapter a day-- but even just a little connection to my higher power in addition to my daily prayers has really boosted my sense of security. The church is very true, friends, even if some of the people in it are a little crazy sometimes (myself included).

On that Molly Mormon note, I've decided to learn how to scrapbook. Over Christmas we were at my Aunt Carolynn's house and her chitluns pulled out all the scrapbooks that she had made for them each year, and you could tell it meant so much to them. Heck, I would've loved something like that, simply because it would be a token of my mother's love for me (her love language isn't really that sort of gift giving, unfortunately). So I'm going to get all sorts of skilled so I'm not learning through my first child's scrapbooks so he/she won't use them as evidence that I don't love him/her as much when he/she's a teenager. Think ahead, says the former girl scout in me (that and "buy cookies"). So any tips anyone could provide would be wonderfully appreciated.

Off to work!

This is what you can get me for Valentine's Day/my birthday/Christmas.

2009-01-09T12:47:00.000-08:00

Start shopping.

2009-01-08T17:29:00.000-08:00

http://www.tmi2day.com/2009/01/08/resolutions-sticking-it-to-the-man/

You should read it. And comment. And browse around to the rest of the paper a bit.

Or else.

(seriously)

50% has always been failing.

2009-01-03T13:27:00.000-08:00

I have a tendency to not do things halfway. "All out or bust" should be tattooed on someplace appropriate, because I get a little obsessive. Someday there will be a diagnosis for this (and for those of you who think you're little therapists already, OCD does not cover what I experience. Trust me. I was medicated for OCD, and this didn't go away) and I'll pop some pills to help me relax a little bit.

Until then, I keep chugging away.

Fortunately, my recent obsessions fit in with my new years resolutions.

What are they, you ask? Well, fortunately for you lucky folks, I'm going to share them with you.

1. Get out of debt.

Since being married, my loving husband introduced me to "credit cards" and "0% interest!" What these actually translated to? "Denial" and "trouble." We've never been in a bad situation, but feeling like I owe something isn't an experience I've grown up with, and it's uncomfortable. Enter obsession. I checked out a couple of books by Dave Ramsey (currently absorbed in Total Money Makeover) and I pretty much have his entire website memorized. He's not a get-rich-quick kind of guy. He's invested in principles that will make you financially secure in the long haul, and I'm quite excited to have paid off my credit card as of today. Now all we have left is the three Bobby has, and we're hoping to snowball those away. Then we can tackle student loans. It'll be an exciting year in that sense, but it also means we're going to become very boring. We set up a very strict eating out budget (see: $0) and have very little set aside for entertainment. We'll have to get creative with our fun, and I'm okay with that. We do it now so we can have more (stress-free) fun later.

2. Save animals.

I get emails from the Humane Society of the United States because I am quite fond of furry little creatures. When I got this video, I think it was really meant as a "HURRAY! Look at what we've done! Give us money so we can do even more." Instead, I saw it and one part in particular stuck out to me-- the cow. When that poor cow can't even get up, I almost started crying. Poor cow! Then I thought about it. That cow went through all that pain and maltreatment so I could have a hamburger. Since then, I've become obsessed. I've read into animals and livestock and slaughter houses, and I realize how biased a lot of my resources are. They aren't shy about it. But even if there's a sliver of truth, is having a piece of bacon worth killing an animal that is just as intelligent as a three year old human? So I gave up meat. Just like that. While at Christmas with Bobby's family, his mom made meatballs for Christmas dinner and was devestated when she heard about my plan. I told her it was more "avoiding" meat than anything, so I'd eat the meatballs. I nearly cried when I melodramatically envisioned the little baby cow saying goodbye to its mama for the very last time.

(Side note: I recognize that I project a lot of what I view an ideal family onto animals, mostly because growing up, my pets showed more affection and caring toward me than the humans in my family. I do not expect this of anyone else.)

3. Give up a new year's resolution.

I make that a goal because then if I mess up or get bored, I'm still 2/3 as far as resolutions go. If #3 is the one I give up on, then I haven't really given it up at all, which means... wait. That's confusing. Maybe you could think about it and get back to me.

Drop it like it's hot.

2008-12-18T08:26:00.000-08:00

Bored? You should head over to www.tmi2day.com and check out why yours truly is everything you thought I was and then some.

Triathlete? Check. Social worker? Check.

....Professional writer? Check!

Caution: May pass out at any given moment.

2008-12-14T12:12:00.000-08:00

The source of my sanity.

Work is killing me these days. Every day I go in super pumped for a new day, and I leave exhausted wondering if I actually got anything done. The joy of social work is that there is definitely job security (lots of screwy people means lots of job opportunities), but it also means that no matter what you do, chances of coming up with and implementing a solution are slim to none. That means stress. And requiring a kitten.

Speaking of kittens, we were out finishing our Christmas shopping yesterday and were in Bobby's least favorite store in the world, which is also consequently one of my most adored retail experiences: The Hallmark Store. Bobby claims everything in the store is useless, which is why I love it. The only purpose their merchandise serves is making people happy. While I was paying for my gifts, he spotted a little bowl full of pocket stones. They're little pseudo-coins that are meant to be kept in your pocket and inspire you to be or do whatever the little coin says. They probably cost half a cent to make. Huge profit margin. Anyway, after his soap box about the uselessness of Hallmark's knick knacks, imagine my surprise when he picked one up and said he was getting one for me. It said "Purrrrr-fect" on one side, and had a cat on the other. "Here," he said, "you always say you need a kitten when you've had a bad day at work. You can pet this when you're stressed out."

Cute right?

So I walk out of the store, all happy and pleased with my adorable husband, when he says, "Good. Now you have to stop bugging me about getting a real kitten."

Turd.

Six days until we'll be in Kansas. Rock freaking chalk. Three cheers for vacationing.

Sleep deprivation is the true meaning behind Black Friday.

2008-11-28T12:37:00.001-08:00

To be completely honest, I've never been a fan of Thanksgiving. With my family, it was usually awkward because someone would not be talking to someone else, or my mom would make some comment about the food I took, or some fight would break out. Everyone would eat as much turkey as possible so we could pass out as soon as we could and escape familial obligations.

This year, we were invited to a Thanksgiving dinner with our dentist and his family. He's a fantastic individual with a family to match, and was appalled when he heard about our lack of turkey plans for this allegedly fantastic holiday. So come Thursday morning, we made a couple loaves of the famous Brigman chocolate chip pumpkin bread and headed over to Draper, UT to spend the day at our dentist's mother's house with two of his siblings and all of their spouses and corresponding offspring. I anticipated feeling very shy and awkward the whole time and wasn't really all that excited about another Thanksgiving.

IT WAS THE BEST THANKSGIVING. EVER.

You know, it makes a huge difference when you're spending the holiday with emotionally well adjusted individuals that are not therapy-phobic. There was a ton of good conversation, little Jack made me a little baby-hungry because of his freakish adorableness factor, and our dentist's mom made the best freaking jello I've ever had in my life (seriously). Though I made a horrific discovery: pumpkin pie? Not as fantastic after experiencing chocolate chip pumpkin bread. Ah, well.

When it was time to leave, I was actually genuinely sad we had to go. But duty called! It was approaching 6:30, and we needed to make sure to get a good spot outside of Best Buy.

Yes, that's right. We camped out. Again.

For those of you who are unaware, last year we camped out in front of Circuit City for the heck of it. People were huddled up in blankets and in tents to get big screen TVs, laptops, cameras, and we were just interested in getting some cheap DVDs (three dollar iRobot? HOLLA!). We received a few hilarious shocked expressions when we told people what we were there for.

This year was different in a few aspects. For one, we were actually after stuff. I had my eye on a fantastic Eureka vacuum that is pet specific with all the beautiful attachments to get pet hair off of furniture. I was laughed at when we were at Thanksgiving and I told them what I was after, but I'm okay with that. I'm also a total teeny bopper and was excited to get Beyonce's new cd for $8. Our plan after hitting Best Buy was to go to Target to get Juno and 27 Dresses for $6 each, and The Holiday for $4. Once my boss heard my plans, she gave me a shopping list. What's better than spending the night on the sidewalk to get sweet deals? Getting even better deals on more expensive stuff with money that's not yours. She was after a blu-ray DVD player, a Nintendo DS Mario edition, and the Sex and the City movie. Wednesday night we went by the store to scope out the layout so we'd be more efficient in going after things, and there were people camping. On Wednesday. As in, the day before Thanksgiving.

Now, that's hardcore.

This year was also different in our preparation. Last year was kind of a whim decision to sleep in the freezing cold on concrete, but this year we were determined not to become human popsicles. We took our very nice sleeping bags that were bought with Black Friday in mind, and they were totally worth it (mmm, warmth). The other biggest difference this year was that given my inherent inability to produce body heat (yay lack of circulation), we brought Peli. She was my personal furnace all snuggled up in my sleeping bag, and spent our shopping time snuggled up in a pile of blankets in our backseat.

At around 2 a.m. this year, people started packing up their tents. This meant we had to move, which is something we learned last year. When people break down their tents, large gaps are made (typically, people standing take up less room than a tent), and this is when people rush in to cut (the cardinal sin of Black Friday that is not treated kindly). So from 2 a.m. until 5 a.m., when the doors opened, we were standing. In the freezing cold. There was lots of dancing on my part to keep warm.

Around 3:15, Best Buy staff came out to hand out tickets for their big items. We weren't sure anything we were getting constituted a "big item", so we had already planned our attack on the store. Since starting our campout, we decided to take advantage of the great deal on the Garmin GPS they had in addition to our vacuum (which is a freaking SWEET vacuum, don't kid yourself). Our plan was to have Bobby go after the Blu-ray and then grab the GPS. I was going up the other side of the store to grab the vacuum and the Nintendo DS, and then we would reconvene to get the movies and CD. Hot freaking dang, though, we were close enough to the front of the line that we got tickets for both the Blu-ray AND the DS, which meant we didn't even have to stress out about it. As the guy was giving us the tickets, he handed us a map, and when I noticed they didn't have the appliances labeled on said map, I asked if the vacuums were in the same place. He looked at me like I was a freak.

And I'm okay with that. Because it's a freaking sweet vacuum.

While the tickets were being handed out, there was a blonde lady who thought she could get away with sneaking up twenty feet in the line to try to get a laptop ticket. Black Friday crowds, especially the Best Buy variety (there was a cop car surveying the front of the line for a reason) do not take kindly to such behavior. A lot of yelling ensued, and the staff were notified (several times) that the lady was not in her appropriate spot, and she did not get her ticket. Molly Sunshine (as I called her) was not pleased and spent the rest of the time in line pulling staff aside to complain and demand free stuff. Another gal came up from further in back and started protesting the ticket process, stating that it was unfair for the staff to hand out tickets for one of the laptops to the front of the line, and then give the front of the line equal access to the other laptop on sale ticket. Whether that was okay or not, this lady seemed determined to start some sort of protest (/riot) and took the same approach as Molly Sunshine, demanding free merchandise to compensate for her long wait. When she was turned down, she got into her car and left 25 minutes before the store opened.

5 a.m. Insanity.

There was the usual pack of people hanging out right outside of the front door that had just arrived that attempted to get in when the rush began. I wasn't too concerned, because I had my eyes on the prize: The Vacuum.

If you are an employee at one of these stores and happen to be working the morning of Black Friday, I am so sorry. It must be absolutely terrifying (and an employee at a Wal-Mart in NY died this morning because of the rush). However, while I sympathize with what you have to endure, it makes me want to claw your eyes out when you insist that I have to get into the laptop line to get my vacuum.

There were very cranky people in the laptop line.

Imagine my dismay when I realized that standing directly in front of me was Molly Sunshine. A few spots in front of her was a guy that had six lap top tickets. He was there planning to pick up the laptops for himself and for all of his friends that camped with him while they got the other stuff they were in line for. Molly Sunshine saw the abundance of tickets, and threw a hissyfit comparable to a tantrum some of my emotionally stunted children clients throw. While I was close to the front of the line, the line was not moving at all due to some complication with the first group of people getting their computers. Bobby called to tell me he got all the stuff he was after and asked what was taking so long. I explained, refraining from cursing Molly Sunshine's (pseudo-) name for making the ten minutes I was standing there absolutely horrific. The guy with all the tickets was actually a very nice guy, and had started the conversation with Molly Sunshine with the (obvious) intent to give her a ticket after asking her why she wanted a laptop, but when she continued to bite his head off, he explained that he was planning to give her one but her "attitude" made him change his mind (and I couldn't blame him). That escalated everything, so I was incredibly grateful when Bobby called and told me to get out of line because he ran in and grabbed the vacuum after they removed the barricade blocking them.

I ran out, and Bobby had the vacuum, the CD, and a couple of Garmin GPS devices. He couldn't decide which one to get, and after consulting with the employees, we went with the more expensive one (and hoo boy, I'm SO glad we did!). While we're struggling a little financially, the GPS was worth getting simply because Bobby doesn't want to drive the whole 16 hours back to Kansas for Christmas, and after the Wyoming incident, he wasn't completely sure he had any other option (patooey!). Complete and utter lack of a sense of direction? No longer a problem.

We got in line to pay, when Bobby started to whine a little bit. He had gotten a ticket for my Christmas present after he got into the store, and was conflicted because he knew I would see it and my present wouldn't be a surprise. Instead of trying to be sneaky, I just got my present today. FREAKING BRAND SPANKING NEW ORANGE IPOD NANO! I don't think I've owned any electronic device as nice. I've named it Barack (Barack out with your hawk out!).

So we got out of Best Buy with EVERYTHING we were after, and had to chuckle at the large stack of giant TVs that were going untouched (yay for a failing economy!). We headed over to Target and got there just as they were letting people in at six, and waited until the line was almost gone before heading in. I was worried that meant we had minimal chance of getting our super cheap DVDs, but they had about a million (no. exaggeration.), so we got our Juno, 27 Dresses, and The Holiday. We endured some more funny looks as we got into line with our few meager items, but we were too deliriously sleep deprived to care, and with all of my goodies, who was I to complain?

Yay for going to bed at 8 a.m. I woke up at noon to get the Ratatouille Bobby downloaded for me to put on my iPod, and am quite pleased with my spoiling. Working at the domestic violence shelter has really helped me relax a little bit with getting things for me. This holiday was typically spent focusing on what to get other people, and I'm totally and utterly content with getting myself some shiny toys.

Black Friday? One of the most fantastic days of the year.

Today also commemorates the third anniversary of the passing of Brianna Reed, a friend from high school show choir and musicals. You're a beautiful gal, Miss Brianna, and your beauty continues to decorate my heart even with your premature departure. See you soon, lady.

String of burned out kitchen lights.

2008-11-24T22:11:00.000-08:00

What is it about the molding process that makes each cookie so different? The same ingredients go in, the oven preheated to the same temperature, and yet something happens. The cookie to the left of another could be the sweetest experience the tongue has ever encountered, or it could be the most bitter ever expected to endure.

My tongue has become tired of trying to guess.

Bombarded with greed and selfishness on a daily basis has become exhausting, and I cringe at the lack of emphasis on "self care" taught at Brigham Young University in their social welfare program. Chronically my web browser is brought to http://cuteoverload.com to compensate for a horrific phone call about someone experiencing domestic violence, or a client will come in and some new roadblock was created in the couple hours since we last spoke.

I miss my cat.

Bobby's therapist is really big into the "should" approach. When we feel like we're failures, it's because we're "should"-ing ourselves.

I've been should-ing myself excessively.

My head is screaming with things I want to paint on large brick walls in fluorescent colors with glow in the dark boarders, but instead I find a little solace in stalking the online classifieds and answering pleas for help with information on resources in the community. Sometimes I hope that I'll be out walking, jogging, biking, and I'll come across a little short hair tuxedo cat, and she'll want nothing more than to sleep on my chest and drip little contented saliva drips as I attempt to read around her.

When I was little, sometimes my mom would come into my room and wake me up by rubbing my feet to make them warm. It seems I've never had good circulation, as to this day my feet and hands are always icicles. She would rub my feet, and then put socks on me. After the socks were on, she would rub my feet some more, and the friction would trap the heat for a little while, and for a few fleeting moments, my toes were warm.

I kind of wish my computer screen gave off UV rays.

To be (dis)continued.

2008-11-20T07:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning I received an email from my father, one of the first containing actual words from him since my birthday in June (which was the first contact since February). The email was to let me know that Pepper, our family blue heeler that I had essentially grown up with, was put to sleep that morning.

Last evening, as I was returning from a home visit with one of my clients in the shelter's Avalanche, I was pulling into the transitional apartment parking lot (where we keep the truck to avoid scratches and the like when parked in front of the shelter) when I heard a very audible scraping noise. Not only did I completely destroy two of the panels on the truck, but I took out the intercom used to open the gate to the transitional parking lot.

All I need is my wife to leave me, and then I'm a true blue country song. That would be kind of amusing if it weren't so sad.

Crappy Mormon.

2008-11-17T08:43:00.000-08:00

The little scientist living inside of me (her name is Francis) is telling me that it's the shorter days and lack of sunlight that is bringing my anxiety and depression out of hibernation. When they talk about depression in psychology classes, they fail to use one important adjective when describing it: annoying. It's so annoying waking up in the morning and forcing your emotions to move up a few notches just to get to neutral (not to mention exhausting). Hello, chemicals in my brain? I have more important things to expend that energy on, thanks. As strongly opposed as I am to the practice, I may be forced to consider going tanning (le gasp), or perhaps purchase a sun lamp.

Christmas season has been in full swing for several weeks now (in my head), so I'm getting antsy to decorate. To comply with Bobby's requirements for his own sanity, I'm refraining from my tinsel attack on our living quarters until the day after Thanksgiving (which I actually celebrate and look forward to more than Thanksgiving itself). I'm all about the fake stuff at Christmas. I like the lights and the trees and the animated penguin figurines on the front lawn (I'm still trying to figure out a way to convince Bobby we need the ones they have at Target and they're totally worth the storage space). The religious aspect? Well, we got a gorgeous Willowtree nativity set last year the day after Christmas (another sacred day in my book) that I look forward to setting up, but other than that, I'm struggling. These days, I'm a little mad at God.

*Cue screeching tires*

Yeah, I know. It makes me a little sick to my stomach just to type those words, but it's true (and I took vitamins on an empty stomach, which may contribute to the queasiness). It's been a little ho hum between me and the Big Guy lately, because try as I might, I don't like Proposition 8. I don't understand it, it confuses me, and it's not what I signed up for when I took the plunge. The election happened, and then I thought it would all be over with, and then I'm bombarded by crap STILL whenever I sign into facebook. Jimminy Christmas, folks, let it go (says the hypocrite who obviously cannot let it go).

Then Sunday morning, Bobby got a call. It was his mom requesting that we fast for her and Trevor.

Trevor's my ALB (acquired little brother). For those of you who might not know it, Trevor is probably the best human being on the planet. He probably would have been translated years ago if he weren't surrounded by such flawed human beings like myself that Heavenly Father knew could really benefit from his example. Trevor was born with William's Syndrome and as a result, his mom was told many things: he would never understand multiplication, would never be able to go to regular classes, etc. Trevor graduated from high school on time taking regular classes and was on the honor roll. He did better than a majority of people I know (myself and Bobby included). Another kicker for William's Syndrome is that you end up with a shoddy heart. You wouldn't be able to tell from looking at him, but Trevor is a prime candidate for instant heart failure. As I'm typing this sentence, he could die. Years ago, his doctors told Mom that he needed a heart transplant. She decided against it, and he's coming up on the time where he would have needed another one. When I was first told about Trevor's condition, I asked why he didn't just get a transplant. They do it all the time on Grey's Anatomy, and it seems very dramatic, but it's always the victory at the end. Yay! Heart transplant! You get to live! Turns out though that t.v. isn't always an accurate resource when it comes to such things (though I still stand by Grey's Anatomy as far as learning life lessons goes). If Trevor gets a heart transplant, he's going to have to pretty much live at the doctor's. He's going to have to take lots of anti-rejection meds, and his quality of life is going to suck for lack of a better word. Right now, he's kicking it. He's a vivacious bugger who gets excited about Spiderman and the Hulk and Batman and teaches himself how to play songs on the piano. He sits in his room and plays his electric drumset to CDs and without having taken a single drum lesson, he's as good as the drummers in Yellowcard and the like. He goes out with the missionaries a couple times a week. But when they look at his heart, the doctors can't believe he's able to do much of anything, and at the very least won't be able to do a whole lot for much longer. So the doctors have told Mom that she needs to make a decision: heart transplant, or let him live the way's been living until he doesn't.

I know it all. God has a plan. It's not a good idea to get mad at God and question said plan, as Job so nicely shows us. God sees the big picture, I see a teeny tiny picture. There is life after death, there's the resurrection, and families are eternal. But when I'm mad, thinking all of those things just makes me feel like God's saying that it's okay to make things horrible because He'll make up for it later. I know I'm being insanely selfish, but why shouldn't I want my kids to be able to meet their amazing uncle? Growing up, I felt so cheated when I heard stories about my dad's dad. My grandpa died trying to get my grandma out of a car after a car accident. That alone makes him incredible, and I never got to meet him. I know I will because there's life after death, families are eternal, God sees the big picture, I see the teeny tiny picture, but I still feel cheated.

Yesterday, in church, there was a gal talking about missionary work. She said the most effective way to perform missionary work was living your life the way you're supposed to and through the happiness that's inevitable by living that way, you'll draw others to the gospel. That seems like a lot of unfair pressure to individuals who are experiencing something difficult to feel happy in spite of the difficult. As an aspiring therapist, I can tell you the lack of validation for depressed feelings does not inspire the individual to feel happier-- it instead makes them feel isolated and weird.

So between the lack of sunlight, the lack of Christmas decorations, and being mad at God, I'm a little sad at the moment. I would rather enjoy a kitten right now.

It's moustache month, according to Bobby, which means it's also stop-shaving-your-legs month.

2008-11-09T14:49:00.000-08:00

Attractive, yes?

So four years ago, I went to the temple to do baptisms for the dead for the very first time. My friend Becky and I were leaving from Manhattan, KS and heading toward Omaha, NE. Becky had mapquested the directions, and as I was driving, Becky asked if it would be okay if she took a nap during the 75 mile stretch. I agreed, and as I drove for the next hour, wondered why all the signs said "W" instead of "N" and why when I was supposed to merge on a major highway, I was in the middle of the country. When Becky woke up, we were just outside Mankato.

Fantastic.

Yesterday, Bobby had a race in Heber Valley. It was cyclocross race, and when he was done, he was very tuckered. We still managed to go out to lunch with one of his biking buddies (who happens to also be our dentist) and go shopping in the outlets in Park City before he was ready to pass out. He gave me directions on how to get home, and then went to sleep. I woke him up an hour later.

"Um, honey? Is Evanston between Park City and Provo?"

Yup. I definitely drove to Wyoming.

Worst. Sense of direction. Ever.

Utah and I are no longer speaking.

2008-10-22T06:52:00.000-07:00

This past Monday was October the 20th, which commemorates two things: Peli's birthday (she's one year old!) and something else I'm not allowed to mention, because we "only have one anniversary."

Balogna.

Two years ago this past Monday, I pulled into the 10th Street church building's parking lot on the phone with my mother. It was early afternoon and very sunny out, and we were having a serious discussion about what would later be diagnosed as my chronic depression. I revealed to her what living with my little sister (who my therapist would later describe as "toxic") was doing to me, and she insisted I come home to talk about it.

Screw that, hippie. I've got a conference to run.

It was a Friday, and the reason I was pulling into the church's parking lot was to get everything decorated and ready to go for the institute conference Lawrence was hosting. My complete and utter inability to delegate meant I was a little ragged as the institute president and had a lot of work before me.

A few hours later, the decor was complete (Cinderella, many of the decorations courtesy of Mrs. Stock) and I was in the kitchen with Brother Heiner working on the food. I was just in the photography room with Heidi, watching her giggle with a boy or two (which boys, I'm not sure) and I mentioned casually to Brother Heiner that we needed to find someone for Heidi. Brother Heiner paused, and without looking up from what he was doing, he said, "What about you, Katie?"

Le gasp. It was well known I was waiting for a missionary, and I nervously played with the necklace holding his CTR ring and the key sent me after going into the field (the "key to his heart" for all you cheese fans out there), and said with half a laugh, "Brother Heiner! I already have somebody!" Masking complete shock as I said it, though, because the past month and a half included many hours spent on my knees asking Heavenly Father what to do with the doubt that had been plaguing me. In that time, a friend had died, truths been told, and I had visited the Nauvoo Temple, knowing full well in looking at it that I would be married there (after a couple years of insisting I'd be married in Logan), and while there finding myself completely unable to fill a tape to my missionary.

Brother Heiner stopped his chopping and looked at me. "Katie, he's great. You're great. But you won't be happy together."

I made some kind of joke and then excused myself. Brother Heiner was like a dad to me, but I sitll didn't want him to know the conflict I was feeling recently. That day had marked eighteen months (EIGHTEEN MONTHS! That deserves an applause or something), and without having even hinted at what I was struggling with, Brother Heiner brought it up. After a few minutes in the bathroom checking my makeup smudges (blasted emotions), I went to the lobby area to begin checking in people showing up for the conference.

It wasn't long before a couple of guys showed up that I'd never met before. The name of the boy in the striped shirt and tie stuck out to me: "Bobby." Who's named "Bobby" anymore? When signing in, under gender he wrote "B." He caught his mistake instantly and laughed with his friend, and explained that "B" meant "boy."

The dinner and speaker went smoothly, and with the "amen" at the closing prayer, I scurried out quickly to get the food into the dance. The cultural hall was dark and I was carrying lots of chopped up food (aw, chocolate fountain), and given my grace, I was very focused on what I was doing. As I was walking in the door, that boy, Bobby, was walking out. With my concentration on the little cubes of angel food cake, I was caught a little off guard when this Bobby guy punched me square in the arm. I looked up to see him running away, and I was very confused as to what had just happened (I later discovered he was just as confused with his actions as I was).

The night continued, and I squeezed in a dance here and there between chartering the food in and out. A slow song started, and the Bobby kid walked up to me and said, "Sorry about punching you earlier. Let me make it up to you with a dance." Cheese lines don't typically work on me, but he was cute, and I have trouble saying no at the expense of others' feelings. So we danced, and we chatted, and he commented on how ridiculously sarcastic I was being (yay defense mechanisms!) when at the end of the song, the DJ of the evening made an announcement.

"We've found a CTR ring, so if you lost yours, come on up and describe it." I looked down at my hand and was relieved to see mine, and thought how sucky it was for the person who lost theirs when I casually reached up to my necklace. Where my necklace used to be was a very broken chain with no ring or key to be found. I ran to the stage and described the CTR ring that used to be around my neck, and they handed it over. I looked every where to find the key that night and the next morning at cleanup, and nothing.

The next day, Bobby asked for my number before leaving the conference, and we were pretty much inseperable after that. So I like to remember October 20th because not only was it the day that I met my husband and best friend, but because that day, Heavenly Father was very blunt with me. I couldn't have asked for a clearer indication of His will for me.

And now Peli's puking. Happy Wednesday, all.

Busy, busy, busy.

2008-10-05T18:25:00.000-07:00

My job is a beautiful thing. I quite enjoy coming home every single day feeling exhausted, because I know that in that day, I have done everything I possibly can in eight hours to help my clients and help the movement in ending domestic violence. Every day is different. One day, I can be counting up a storm to get the stats done, and the next, I could be in the hospital all day because one of my clients had an incredible low the night before. Probably my favorite day thus far is when my incredible boss said, "Katie, your job today is to make sure that dog is tired before I commute to Salt Lake tonight." She had a adopted a dachshund puppy for her mom unexpectedly, and she knows how much I love dogs, so I got to play with an adorable dog (with a TON of energy) all day. It was a much needed distraction in a very difficult week.

This weekend was also a much needed distraction. Friday night, we went to a mission reunion for the California Sacramento Mission with Bobby's mission president that was released this past May. It was... interesting. Definitely interesting. There was a question and answer session, and it was truly inspiring to see how an individual could be casually speaking and invite the Spirit into the room so quickly. Bobby's president was a well studied, spiritually-connected man. The Q and A was supposed to last forty-five minutes, so with just a few minutes to go, he asked his son (with Downs Syndrome) to give his testimony, and asked his wife to do the same. The spirit was so strong it could've knocked you over. Then he offered his closing remarks. His remarks turned into a 20 minute speech pushing his political agenda (being from California) about the protection of marriage. It was no longer a spiritual discussion, but a soap box declaration that included many misconceptions. It frightened me that someone who had seemed so well versed and so educated could quickly sound so misguided, and passionately so. Light hearted jokes at the homosexual population's expense and explanations that the acceptance of gay marriage leads to the teaching of HIV protection in schools' sex ed programs (in case you were wondering, the demographic statistically more greatly affected by HIV/AIDS is black women, who are by definition NOT gay men), and I struggled to respectfully keep my mouth closed. It's hard for me to remember to be open and tolerant of other people's opinions when their opinion includes a lack of tolerance toward others (I'm a hypocrite. I'm working on it).

There is something that has been bothering me a great deal out here that has increased in its eye-stabbing factor since I began working at the Center for Women and Children. As a part of LDS culture ("culture" should be emphasized, as it is not doctrinally based), college is an opportunity to find a husband and prepare for becoming a wife rather than receive the education and training necessary to find and establish a financially viable career. I understand the Proclamation to the World and do believe in the benefits, both spiritually and practically, of a mother staying home with her kids, and hope to do it myself when the time comes. Knowing that, though, I did not get a degree for the sake of getting a degree, and instead plan to further my education so should something happen, I can support myself and my family. Bobby could get hurt, die, or something crazy could happen. At the shelter, I went into a transitional apartment to get the phones set up, and one particular apartment had Primary pictures all over the fridge, scriptures on the book shelf, and statues of Christ on the counter. Another woman I took to court last week happened to look out the window and began crying, and said it was because she just saw the temple she and her husband were sealed in. So when I was at the reunion with Bobby and he was chumming it up with his old companions, I would make small talk with their wives, and the conversation typically went like this:

Me: Are you a student?
Her: Yes.
Me: What are you studying?
Her: Family and home science.
Me: Oh... what are you planning to do with that?
Her: Nothing. I'm going to be a mom.

The Family and Home Science degree is what I call being a crappy boy scout (you know, "Be prepared"?). That sort of degree means that only one path of life can work out. He'll graduate in something that will make enough money for the entire family, and he'll enjoy his job enough to have it his entire life. He'll never get sick, he'll never be in an accident, and he'll never beat you. It's horrific to think that it's possible someone could beat you when you signed on for eternity, but it's like my client said: "You marry a man because you love him, and you think he's a good person. You don't marry a person and think they're crazy." Other clients' husbands started doing drugs and became violent. For the accident and all that, perhaps the degree teaches you how to find a really good life insurance policy (morbid, eh?). If not, better hope there are some well paying entry level general positions available when you need it.

It just seems like the possession of ovaries is a "Get out of Ambition Free" card. With all of the excitment about Sarah Palin and the alleged big step she's making for womankind, I feel like we have an especially greater duty to step it up to show how un-interchangeable we are.

Anyhoo, getting to go to the first session of conference in the best seats ever (Thanks, Jenn!) was made even better with the announcement about a temple being built in the Kansas City area. It took a lot of self control to not start the wave in the conference center while President Monson was up there, but I definitely peed myself a little out of excitment (I'm part cocker spaniel). I still don't understand the excitement about the Italy announcement, unless I was uknowingly surrounded by a ton Italians/Italian enthusiasts (if so, they weren't wearing their uniforms this time). I'm really glad that we'll have the opportunity to go to the temple often when we come back to Kansas, because we've grown really accustomed to having one down the street here.

Bobby just made me dinner, and is insistant that I eat it "while it's hot." What a fabulous husband.

Canine flatulence.

2008-09-21T22:04:00.000-07:00

Bedtime was actually a half hour ago, but it seems my anxiety is up for some reason and isn't allowing me to fall asleep as easily. In that time, Peli has farted probably 20 times, reminding me why dogs eat dog food and not chicken breasts served at work picnics.

Yesterday, I went with our dog trainer, Stacie, to Salem to help her out with a pet fair. She had to set up a booth and distribute information about being a responsible pet owner, and also MC'ed several of the demonstrations. I readily agreed when she asked me to accompany her, because I think she's pretty fabulous and I love all things animal related. We were driving there in her SUV with her pit bull she's fostering in a crate in the back, and Peli was sitting in the middle. The middle seat was down to make room for things, so Peli wasn't buckled in (yes, my dog has a harness so she can be buckled in when we're in the car. I'm protective, not neurotic). Stacie asked if Peli liked the window rolled down, which is actually one of Peli's favorite things in the world. There are two things you can do to make her absolutely wiggle with joy: Go on a car ride (bonus points for a window rolled down) and taking her into the mountains for a hike. Stacie rolled down the window and asked, "She won't jump, right?" Of course not. She loves to stick out as much of her body as she can, but she never jumps. Three dog classes have ingrained some sort of common sense in her, so she would know not to jump out of a car going 40+ mph.

I was mid-sentence in telling a story when Peli was gone.

Stacie immediately pulled off to the side, and before she had even stopped I jumped out of the car and ran into the middle of a very busy street to rescue Peli. Hyperventilating, I automatically imagined finding my little girl lying in the middle of the road, either from jumping out of a car going that fast or from getting hit by a car. Instead, she was standing in the middle of the street, looking around as if to say, "Now what?" I couldn't decide whether to throw up or cry, so instead settled on informing Peli that she will have to settle with just car rides and not car rides with the window down. Ever. I'm pretty sure I lost a few years off my life.

Last night was the shop party for Bobby's work, which was pretty fantastic. It was a big campout in a beautiful part of the mountains, and it was catered by a restaurant that was much nicer than anything we ever go to (going camping with gourmet food that we don't have to pack? Talk about vacation). It was fun watching all the other people from the other shops throwing back, and then observing the Provo boys standing off to the side, sipping their sodas and then going to bed at 10:30 (everyone else was going strong till 2 a.m.). This morning, most of the crew went on a mountain bike ride, and I stayed behind to do what I do best: hang out with the dogs. There were some insanely cute dogs there, and I was in hog heaven. Peli went nuts playing with everyone. One of the guys there went on a hike with his two golden retrievers, and took a large mutt with him (a very sweet dog named Lacey). While they were out hiking, Lacey kept going off the trail (something Peli often does), and would run back, until she didn't run back. The guy taking her looked for a bit then assumed she ran back to the camp site. She didn't. A fellow dog lover and I took Peli out and we wandered around the area, looking for Lacey. It was a huge downer to what had been a really fun experience, and I could only imagine what her owner was feeling. After looking for a few hours, her owner went to the park station to tell them to look for a dog and found that someone had seen Lacey and picked her up and brought her there. Thank goodness for Peli's classes-- she doesn't need a leash when we hike because she always comes back when we call her. Maybe next class she'll learn not to jump out of a freaking window.

The party ended with the owner of the shops handing out a bunch of free stuff, and he let people pick by shop, starting with the individuals the shop managers felt deserved special recognition. After those people all went, he then let the rest of the people working at the shops go, starting with the shop that was having the best year. Bobby ended up being recognized for his hard work, so he got a new roof rack and a pretty sweet jacket. It's a good thing, too, because the Provo shop is doing the worst of all the shops, so by the time everyone else from there went, there were only t-shirts left. The owner was also handing out bib shorts ($100+ a pop) that had the store name on them. Bobby asked if there was a small I could snag, and he gave us one (a huge deal, because he can be a jerk when he's at the shop). I went up and thanked him, and explained that Peli had chewed my other shorts and that they were being held together with a pretty sketchy sewing job, so I really appreciated the new shorts. With that, he pulled out a second pair of bib shorts and handed them to me. Hot dang!

The Lord has really blessed us. We went to the temple last week and have made a goal to be more adament about that, because as Bobby put it, "we don't really deserve the blessings we get no matter what we do, but we might as well try to be a little more worthy of them." My new job is amazing. The people I work with are great, and I have a lot of freedom to make the job what I want it to be. It seems a little unstructured right now, so I want to use the time I have there to create a protocol for the individuals that are in the transitional housing that instills more accountability. Last week, I was in Salt Lake City for a conference and learned a ton about domestic violence. I felt like I knew a lot before, but man, there is always so much more out there. I know I've been blessed with a drive to help people, and I'm working hard to figure out what exactly I'm supposed to do with it. Being in social work isn't enough. I learn more things, and I get frustrated because there aren't enough hours in the day, days in the week, and I'm only one person, so where do I focus my time and energy? I found out there is a huge correlation between domestic violence and animal abuse, and I adore animals-- what can I do to help create more opportunities for survivors to place their animals in a safe haven while they seek safety? Then I learned that the Native American population is seriously lacking in allies (70% of violent crimes against women in the Native American population are commited by non-Native Americans) and that until 1982 (only 26 years ago!) 47% of Native American women of child bearing age were sterilized as mandated by the federal government and the women weren't even told! So many crazy things are happening that need attention, so figuring out where to focus is going to be interesting.

Well, Chuck just snuggled up to me, so perhaps I can attempt sleep again. Tomorrow could be a very long day if I don't conk out soon.

Forgive Peli for eating the hot pocket.

2008-09-14T09:11:00.000-07:00

My first week at my new job consisted of a lot of the craziness that comes with starting a new job. I had to figure out what it was exactly that I'm supposed to do and the people I'm working with had to adjust to having a human being doing the things that they've been making up for the past couple months. Each day I'm finding out more and more about how the person before me didn't really do a whole lot, which makes me all the more determined to do everything I can to succeed at this job.

Pretty much, my job consists of maintaining the stats, act as landlord for the transitional apartments, make phone contacts with the aftercare clients and also make home visits. I have a large closet of donations to distribute which makes me feel a little bit like Santa, but I also have to be cold faced when they don't pay their rent and don't file an extension of cure and start the eviction process.

Friday morning, my boss called me and told me to dress for the fair. We took all the kids with some of their parents to the state fair, and it was exhausting. Fun, but exhausting. One of the very small children did not like that I wouldn't let them play the carnie games and took up saying, "You suck! Just kidding." Another small child was three and as we were leaving, I asked him to hold my hand so I wouldn't get lost (he started running ahead a lot) and he told me he was excited to see the ducks again (there were ducks at the entrance to the park). I told him he was very smart to have remembered there were ducks, and he said, "Yes. Big ducks. And they have grey faces. I like ducks." A three year old! I was amazed.

Friday afternoon, we were helping a woman move into a new apartment, and I saw some puppies. Me being me, I went over to pet the puppies. There were three of them, brindle, and were some sort of boxer mix. They were horribly skinny. I was petting them and ignoring a box that was right next to them, covered in flies, assuming it was the apartment's garbage. The owner came over and started to herd the puppies away from me, and I asked her what kind they were. She told me they were boxer/shepherd mixes, and when I said they were really cute, she said, "They're just getting over parvo. That one didn't make it." She pointed to the cardboard box, and my peripheral vision told me that a little, dead puppy was laying in the bottom. When I returned to my office (because I have an OFFICE), I called animal control and gave them the address. The dispatcher told me the puppies didn't have a chance, and the animal control officer couldn't take them to the shelter because then every other dog would get parvo. When I didn't say anything, she said she'd let the officer use his discretion.

When I hung up, I cried.

Other than that, though, I really do believe I can be good at my job (fortunately, witnessing innocent little puppies dying of parvo isn't really included in my job description). Tuesday through Friday of this week will be spent in Salt Lake City for a conference on Domestic Violence, and the keynote person is this lady:

Officially a triathlete.

2008-09-07T08:34:00.001-07:00

In the wee hours of the morning yesterday, my husband and myself stirred out of bed and did what no man has willingly done before-- put on our tri suits. For those of you who have never done this, a women's triathlon top is a spandex mastectomy, eliminating any and all curves in an attempt to make you more hydrodynamic (or something). I was sleepy, flat chested, and in a very cold car, preparing myself mentally for the 400 meter swim that was to take place outdoors in roughly 60 degree weather, followed by the 9 mile bike ride and the 3 mile run.

When we got in line for the swim, we were spaced apart according to how quickly we thought we could do the swim. Bobby got in the 11 minute part of the line, and I got in the 14 minute line. The race started at 8 a.m., but my feet didn't touch the water until 8:35. I watched Bobby as he swam through his group, and it was apparent that he was in the wrong swim group. He ended up swimming it in eight and a half minutes. I knew I was in the wrong group when I passed the guy in front of me before the first leg of the first lap. I completed the swim in ten and a half minutes.

After the swim, we had to scurry to the parking lot to transition to the bike. My lovely sense of direction induced a slight panic attack, because where I swore up and down I left my bike, it was not there. Before I required the paper sack to breathe into, I discovered my bike was one row over, and quickly changed into my biking attire. My husband assured me that the ride and the run would be on a flat course. Oh, silly Bobby. The ride started with a very long, moderately steep climb, and because it was a lap course, it was a climb we would have to complete twice. It didn't help that my impeccable sense of direction also sent me going the opposite way the race required, and I had to turn around. Ah, well.

When I finished the ride, I was pulling into the transition area when I saw Bobby. He had already finished the race, and met me while I was pulling on my tennis shoes. The prince charming he is, he ran the first half of the 3 miles with me. We don't have fuel belts (yet), so I was pretty dependent on the water the race staff was handing out after the giant hill in the run. When I got there, however, the water was all gone and instead, there was a cup of ice handed to me. Boo. After the first lap, Bobby complained of feeling sick to his stomach and "tired" (whatever), so I was left on my own for the last lap. We discovered yesterday that people pushed to the brink of death are very friendly, so I had no problem finding people to talk to on the run. I spent a good leg of that lap discussing century bike rides with a lady who had just completed the Ulcer earlier this year, and she gave me some helpful tips on the century we're scheduled to complete later this month (a century is a 100 mile bike ride). She got very tired, though, and I still felt pretty energetic, so I scurried over to the finish line. I finished my first triathlon without feeling like I was going to die, which was my goal after only 2 weeks of training for it.

Bobby ended up taking 2nd for his division, and naturally, because they give medals to the top three finishers in each division, I took 4th. I took 4th out of 8 in my division, though, and it was my first tri, so I'm pretty satisfied. In addition to Bobby's medal, we also took home a couple collapsable coolers, a protein shaker, and a Spoon Me gift card, because we're greedy and patient and stayed after everyone was leaving to take the raffle stuff no one picked up. Bwahaha!

On a slightly different note, I got a call Friday afternoon and was offered the job at the women's shelter that sounds like a dream come true. On Tuesday, I'll begin training to become their Aftercare Coordinator. Three cheers for helping to save the world (and for getting a pay check again). Hip, hip, HOORAY!

Barack chalk (I love Stephen Colbert)

2008-09-01T16:52:00.000-07:00

I just finished my jog, and for the first time in a while, I thoroughly enjoyed running. The weather right now is absolutely perfect, and spent a lot of time doing self therapy. It was beautiful and I enjoyed it.

Yesterday was the first Sunday we've been able to actually serve in our calling. We've been Primary instructors for a few months now, with no children to teach. Saturday, we got the phone call that our time had come! We were going to teach three kids. I opened up the manual and made elaborate crafts to follow along the lesson in the book to teach the kids the importance of tithing. I was excited, and it's hard for me to craft without an excuse to do so. At 8 a.m. the next morning, we were in the Primary room with big smiles, ready to go through the lesson. The first two kids were Jack and Eric. Jack has been in Primary before, and had no qualms about sitting in the tiny little chair in front of the table. Eric was a little apprehensive, since this was his first time, and instead wanted to sit on the floor in front of the door. My experience with kids has taught me that if a small child wants to sit in front of the door instead of in a chair, you let him, because that's not really what's important. He feels like he has control over some part of a new situation and will be more receptive to the stuff that counts. So he sat by the door. Then in came Caitlin.

Oh, Caitlin.

First of all, our names are the same (not counting the spelling). She was wearing a bright pink dress, and looked freakishly similar to how I looked when I was little. She was also toting a stuffed duck named Ducky. When I was little, my favorite stuffed animal was a duck named Ducky. Caitlin was very shy, very quiet, and very unsure of the scary new people she was left in a room with. She was me!

Bobby was with Jack and Eric on the piano, trying to get them to sing a primary song, while I consoled Caitlin in the absence of her mother and got her to warm up a little to the idea of being in Primary. By this time, the block was half over, and the kids were not acting like they were ready for my tithing bank and the mites we had so carefully created. Instead, we got some coloring sheets of Jesus blessing the children that Jack and Caitlin worked on while Eric built a fort out of chairs. All in all, very productive, and spending time with Caitlin reminded me of how adorable I was and how adorable my kids will inevitably be, leaving me to reconsider my animosity toward the prospect of life suckers (aka offspring).

Five days from now, we'll be doing a triathlon (hence the running regularly again). Tomorrow, the rec center opens up again so we can get some swim time in. I did a BRICK a couple days ago (Bike, Run, It Can Kill), and the name doesn't lie. Holy pea soup, what a miserable feeling. I only rode 10 miles and then ran 3, and I thought my legs were cement. Fortunately, it's a nine mile ride followed by a 5k, so I know I can do that part... let's just hope I can do all of it after I've swam 400 meters. Blech.

Oh, yeah. How hilarious is this Sarah Palin nomination? Oh, McCain, is dementia starting to set in in your old, old age?

My testing experience.

2008-08-28T11:57:00.000-07:00

During the last couple weeks of school, my internship seminar dedicated an entire 1.5 hour lecture to our ASWB licensing exam. Taking this exam and passing would give us our SSW license, and having that license opens up more job opportunities with better pay. It's also beneficial for graduate school application. I did not really know what to expect with the test, and the class discussion wasn't really beneficial ("Do you have any questions?" followed by long spurts of silence). The test was pretty expensive (over $200), and failing means having to pay that all over again to retake the test. I ordered the study guide, took the practice test, and then put my faith in my experience and education.

I was scheduled to take the test at 2 pm at the Salt Lake Community College, and showed up at 1:15. I was told to be signed in at 1:30 for the exam, and used the fifteen minutes prior to study the practice test some more. My stomach was churning, my brow sweating, and when I went to sign in, I was informed that I was the only person taking the test. This was kind of unexpected, but then I realized that I would be able to read the questions out loud, which helps a ton when I'm doing a really long test (this one was 170 questions). We're allotted four hours to take the test, and the study guide suggested taking as much of the four hours as I could stand. I ended up finishing the test in an hour, and spent another fifteen minutes reviewing my answers. We're required to get a 70 to pass, and I was told time and time again not to expect to get much higher than that. I read online several people complaining about having to take the test again because they were a couple points shy. A panic attack later, I finally hit the "quit" button to finish the exam. Because it was all on a computer, I was supposed to get the score as soon as I exited out of the test. Naturally, it's not that easy. A survey popped up about my testing experience. Dripping in sweat, I zipped through the survey and finally got to the last page.

PASSED.

Holy freak. What a relief. In spite of my speed and anxiety, I still managed to get an 84. Hot dang!

Now, if I could just find a job...

I spoil my children.

2008-08-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I rode 62 miles. I'm awesome.

Saturday, I purchased some food for Peli at the pet store (after being stalked and pestered by a guy who wanted me to buy his company's dog food, claiming it was more organic and much healthier for my dog. I was almost sold on it when I realized he lied to me. I asked in the conversation how much it cost, and he said it was as much as the brand I normally buy. What I get is $43 for 40 lbs, and his brand had the same price tag... and when I discovered that the bag of his brand that was $43 was 10 lbs less, I gave him the proverbial "Suck it!" by grabbing my Science Diet while he peered at me with his beady little eyes) and realized that Peli gets a lot of treats and toys and stuff, and we haven't done anything to really spoil Chuck. I contemplated getting him a couple cans of Fancy Feast, but feared he would have the same issues he had before (apparently it makes his poop smell like Fancy Feast, which is an odor he can't resist), so looked at my other options. I found something called Vita Gravy, which is a gravy textured substance that you put in with their dry food that tastes good and has a lot of vitamins in it. He's had a tablespoon of this stuff in his breakfast and dinner since Saturday, so only a few days. Yesterday, Bobby gave him his breakfast, and Chuck usually wakes us up for breakfast because he's so excited to eat. We barely get it into the bowl before he's got a mouthful. This time, though, he just sat there, looking at Bobby. Bobby couldn't figure out what was going on, and I asked if he'd added the gravy. As soon as Bobby put it in, Chuck started chowing down. He spoils so easily.

And now, studying for my licensure exam. Wish me luck.

I didn't fall down.

2008-08-18T20:36:00.000-07:00

What a crazy few days it's been. Friday, after being exhausted from our graduation celebration, Bobby insisted that we go to one of the stages for the Tour of Utah. It actually turned out to be a lot of fun, seeing as how I managed to squirm away with a cowbell and motivation to get on my bike more (um, the pros manage 30+ mph for over an hour on a flat, and I'm lucky to keep my average speed at 15), but the coolest part was definitely meeting this guy:

Yeah, he definitely told me in French that I have a pretty smile. This was after he almost swore in French and I mentioned that I took a few classes in that language. Unfortunately, they don't teach us swear words (even at KU), so I wouldn't have had the slightest clue that he was being profane. Bobby got a picture with him, and it was neat being able to put a person to the book Bobby's been reading (Tour de Life).

Saturday morning we got our butts out of bed long before I would have enjoyed (since graduation, I've decided to catch up on all the sleep I didn't get in the past four years) to bike up Sundance. I whined a lot, because we sold my mountain bike because I had decided biking up mountains wasn't fun. What the devil was I biking up this one for? Well, Bobby wanted to watch the fourth stage of the Tour of Utah, which was a climbing stage, and the further up the mountain we were, the better idea we could get of who was going to be King of the Mountain. I whined, and I cried, begging Bobby to please stop before we got to the Sundance sign, and after yelling at each other for a bit, I saw the sign and took off in a sprint. I went from going 4 mph to 12, which was pretty awesome on my part, especially since it means I smoked Bobby. He then yelled at me and accused me of faking being tired. I'm a sprinter, suckah.

Last evening, I received a text from our dog trainer suggesting an impromptu puppy play date. I never turn those down, especially since Peli loves playing with other dogs so much, and I thoroughly enjoy our trainer. After playing for a while, I started talking with Stacie (trainer extraordinaire) about how I was contemplating becoming a dog trainer at Petsmart. She complains constantly about the other trainers who are constantly getting fired or quitting without notice, and I joked about how I should just apply there instead of continuing the dreaded job hunt I've been on since the week prior to graduation (I know, a week and a half, wah me). She told me to apply, and that I would only have to work evenings, and that since she's the one doing the interviews, I'd be hired. This is fantastic because once we move back to Kansas, I need a job I can work that doesn't conflict with classes and internship during the day. Dog training is a few hours in the evening, and will contribute to the money we're going to give to Bobby's mom for food and for putting up with us. I hope it works out.

Today, Bobby again stirred my sleeping body earlier than I would have liked to go on a bike ride. We were going to bike around West Mountain and back, which totals to a little over sixty miles. I was pumped and ready to go, chatting away with Bobby, when about seven miles into the ride, I had a blow out. Not a big deal, since Bobby had a tube and a CO2 cartridge, but he voiced some concerns with it being that early in the ride, and we were left with no tube in case of a flat. The next twenty miles were pretty uneventful, until we were attacked by a plague of grasshoppers. I've discovered that I do not enjoy bugs touching me, and when we're biking at 15-20 mph, it's unbelievably unbearable. At about 30 miles into the ride, where we were so far from civilization that I had no service on my cell phone, Bobby discovered his tire was flat. We saw another cyclist shortly after, and while he had an extra tube to give us (cyclists are so nice!), we had no means for putting air into it. Fortunately, we had rolled far enough along to get cell phone service again, and our landlord was prompted to call us to see if he could go with us to Seven Peaks water park later that day. We were out in the middle of no-where, Payson, Utah, and he hopped into his truck and drove out, found us on a total whim, and rescued us from our flattened fate. He's pretty much the superhero of the day.

Life post-graduation is pretty splendid, what with all the additional sleeping and minimal responsibilities, but finding a job is a lot more stressful than I anticipated. I've had two job interviews so far, and the first one was terrible (they thrust me into a room full of eight people with clipboards, staring at me, asking the WEIRDEST questions) and I understood why I didn't get the job (it was at a mental hospital, and I'm sure they were contemplating admitting me instead). The second one, though, was at my internship, and they gave it to someone who deserved the job a lot more than I did. He'd worked there for a while as a human service worker, which included working the hours of 4 pm to midnight full time at a little over $9/hour. I was offered his position instead. I would feel a little weird about taking a job like that when I was a case manager there just a couple weeks ago, so I've opted to continue my search elsewhere. Fortunately, through my addiction to craigslist, I found a posting for a position at a domestic violence shelter looking for an aftercare social service worker. I don't know what the hours are or what the pay is, but I loved being at WTCS for a year and would feel good about helping survivors of domestic violence again.

So... wish me luck. If this doesn't go through, maybe I can sell an ovary or something. And in case you were wondering, Peli has her click-a-trick graduation on Wednesday, so feel free to send congratulation cards to her for all of her adorable accomplishments.

So I guess this means I'm an adult.

2008-08-15T09:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my graduation from Brigham Young University. After spending a whole year at BYU, I decided to participate fully in the pomp and circumstance, and the events went as follows:

Midnight, Wednesday night: Bobby, Marty, Sarah and myself went to Smith's to purchase chips, bread, ham, and cheese. Sarah and I also bought waterproof makeup (for all the tears, right?)

Thursday morning: Bobby and I woke up in a frenzy, getting everything thrown together, and preparing Peli for a day of kenneling while we went off into the world.

Thursday, 10:30 ish: We picked up Marty and Sarah, and then stopped at a gas station to fill the tires with air and to get some delicious fig newtons and a very large diet coke with lime.

Thursday, 12:00 pm: I walked... right into Lagoon, where we spent the day riding amusement park rides, going to the water park, and exhausting ourselves, ending the day with a trip to Salt Lake City just to go to Chipotle (they don't have one in the Provo/Orem area, which I consider one of the greatest sins of happy valley).

I didn't wear the black cap and gown, but I did wear my new cute black and white polka dotted swimsuit. I didn't accept a handshake as I walked across the stage, but I did accept my husband's hand to squeeze the living daylights out of when he forced me to go on a scary roller coaster. Instead of spending a couple hours with people I didn't really know very well, reminiscing about all the year I spent at BYU, I spent an entire day with my husband and our amazing friends creating new memories to reminisce about later.

This whole being a capable adult thing terrifies me, but in looking at my decision for how to celebrate yesterday, I'd say I'm pretty competent when it comes to priorities and execution.

Now, here comes the job application part. That's only mildly terrifying.

Why I Love My Husband

2008-08-09T13:17:00.000-07:00

I've been a little wound up lately. With hours of final projects and homework assignments weighing me down, along with the termination of my internship and job, and the prospect of applying for "real" jobs, I've been stressed. My tendency during these times is to turn to all of the flaws I see in myself and rip myself to shreds. My mom's voice starts screaming in my head louder than anything else going on in my life, and I start to revert back to disordered thinking patterns. One morning this past week, it got to be so overwhelming as I looked at the number on the scale, and before I left for my 7 a.m. class, I made notes to tape to the fridge. On three sheets of paper, I wrote, "Have you gone to the gym today?" "Eat a salad!" and "No Sweets. No Sugar. Are you really hungry, or just bored?" Before I left for work, Bobby saw them and asked what they were about. When I came home from work, the signs were covered with his own signs. "You are a daughter of God," "Your husband loves you," and "You are beautiful."

Even after I was the one who begged and pleaded for a dog, he's the one that wakes up in the wee hours of the morning to let her outside. He got so stressed out about money and finances, and then let me get a bunch of clothes from Plato's Closet so I'd have something to wear for my job interviews. And so I can start working as soon as possible, he's given up going to Las Vegas for a vacation, even though he needs a vacation more than anything.

I have the best husband in the world. I know everyone says that, but seriously. He's my everything.

I'm a widdle sleepy.

2008-07-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

Last week at the gym, I ran into one of my former coworkers, and we started working out together and talking about what life has brought us since we last saw each other. In discussing the various things we had experienced, she was very quick to tell me that I do not stand up for myself enough. I thought that was interesting, since I'm really the most obnoxious advocate I know for everyone else, but it's true-- I have difficulty doing things for myself.

Saturday afternoon, I went on a bike ride. These are opportune times for me to reflect on what life brings me, because after the first ten miles or so, the music in my right ear bud turns into background sounds and my mind escapes to a place of pondering. I was in this happy place as I was traveling down 89 through Springville when a van drove by and a 20-something male stuck his head out the window and let out a scream. I jumped (as much as one can jump while in clip in pedals) and nearly fell over, only to look to my left and see the 20-something male throw his head back and laugh. Just ahead was a fork where one road went to Spanish Fork and the other to Mapleton, where I typically head down to Spanish Fork and ride the back roads where there are cows (mmm, cows). The van took a right at the fork toward Mapleton, and then pulled into a parking lot of a pawn shop. I started to go left toward Spanish Fork, then thought about what my friend had said. Cyclists generally are not respected in most communities, and I'm constantly getting honked at and almost hit by cars when the law is on my side, so adding people being obnoxious on top of it was really overkill. I veered right and pulled up to the van in the parking lot, where the ever intelligent individual still had his window rolled down. To paint a better picture, I was wearing dark sunglasses and spandex. See: alien secret service agent. This is how the conversation went (oh, and imagine that I'm speaking like my angry mother):

Me: What part of that was funny?
Ape-man: (Mouth hangs open, stares blankly)
Me: Have you ever fallen off a bike?
Ape-man: (mumbling) No.
Me: Have you ever busted open your jaw and shattered all your back teeth?
Ape-man: (Shakes head)
Me: Are you going to do it again?
Ape-man: (still mumbling, possibly urinating) No. Sorry.

You know that episode of The Office where Pam decides she's going to be honest with Roy and not let people walk all over her, and she corrects the bartender and gets a lite beer instead of what he gives her on accident? Yeah, it kinda felt like that. All that weight lifting combined with my mother's tone of voice (see: satanic) made me quite intimidating. How liberating! No wonder people become violent dictators.

So while it may seem humorous to yell something at a cyclist or drive close enough to spank their spandexed bum (which my landlord apparently has done), you have to realize a few things first.

Had I fallen and hurt my bike, he would have had to replace my bike. You may disagree, but I know someone who got people to replace all of his gear because their dog chased him, he got scared, and fell off his bike (which I don't really agree with, but if that's all it takes, verbal harassment/vehicular assault will definitely get you to replace my bike). Retail of my bike: $3250.
Had I fallen and hurt myself, he would have been responsible for covering my medical expenses. Being the accident prone person I am, I am more than aware of how much a simple trip to the emergency room costs. Dental bills are really, really expensive, and because of my lack of grace, chances are that I'm going to land on my face and break some teeth. Medical bills from an accident (especially if that accident involves me) can get up to $10,000.
Had I fallen and hurt myself, he would have been responsible for covering my mental expenses. In a few short weeks, I will be graduating from BYU and will no longer be eligible for their free therapy, and I know for certain that I am a prime candidate for PTSD. I actually experienced it when I had my last bad crash, which is why Bobby bought me a really nice bike and then had to sell it a month later (ride=serious anxiety attack). He would be responsible for paying for the therapy needed to overcome my anxiety induced by the accident, and let me tell you- therapy is not cheap.
The settlement. Now, I'm not really a big fan of the idea of settlements and suing and all that jazz (some of it seems like a quick fix to get some extra cash), but I've been to the emergency room often enough to tell you it's one of the most excruciating experiences one can endure. When the shock wears off, you're just in pain, and then the stuff they inject into the site of the wound to numb the pain hurts worse than whatever it is ailing you, and if you're like me, you need new injections every fifteen minutes because your body absorbs it like a coke fiend. With that in mind, and the fact that I've had a lot of medical expenses (see: debt), I wouldn't mind a dumb person having to help me out because of his ignorance.

Cyclists are harassed often. So consider the four things listed above before being an individual that contributes to that harassment, because if whatever you do results in the cyclist getting hurt, they're probably bitter enough to not cut any slack. Some people on bikes are cocky and don't obey traffic laws, making life miserable for people behind the wheel, but there are those of us who actually do stop at stop signs, signal, and ride as close to the side of the road as we can, so remember us before you decide to take your hard day out on the crazy individual wearing spandex on a too-expensive bike.

Why I'm Pretty Awesome.

2008-07-25T14:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I completed a fifty mile ride. For those of you who prefer to see the actual number, that's 50. 50 long miles, and the last twenty of them were excruciating. It seems that the cleat on my shoes was a little to far up my foot, and too much pressure was put on my toes. Unbelievable pain. But hot freaking dang, I finished the fifty miles. I may have cried a little bit (see: a lot bit) for the last two miles, but I freaking did it.

My portfolio was turned in last Tuesday, which means that my last undergraduate social work assignment is complete. All I have left is one paper and a test in Book of Mormon, and I'm done. Done done done done. I'm starting my application for graduate school already, though it doesn't have to be in until December. I'm not completely sure what I want to study, though, hence the poll. Initially I went into social work thinking I wanted to do therapy with girls with eating disorders, but most of the facilities that offer treatment are not non-profit, and that's where my heart is. The nonprofit organizations seem to have a better employment atmosphere, and it's hard for my brain to adjust to the idea of greed and power within the field of social work (altruism, what's that?). I think there needs to be more therapeutic interventions for gifted children in the public schooling system, so I was contemplating doing something along those lines, but I really cannot stand small children (well, the obnoxious ones, anyway).

Job hunting has never been a favorite activity of mine. In a few weeks, I'll be a college graduate, and I had put off the whole hunt because we might be out of town until September. Our plans are up in the air again, though, so the pressure's on to find a source of income. It looks like I might be working at a less than ideal situation, though, because I'll be leaving in May, which means I need a job that has high enough turnover that they won't mind.

Peli had her second click-a-trick class on Wednesday, and she has learned how to spin, rewind (a spin in the other direction), and how to die on command. She's pretty brilliant. However, she's driving me a little nuts with the chewing today (what is her fascination with my bras?!?).

Yee haw. Back to cleaning.

I can ride my bike with handlebars.

2008-07-18T16:41:00.000-07:00

Today, I completed a 40 mile ride. This is awesome for the following reasons:

I started my ride at 10, and spent 10:30-10:45 at ScenicView to show off my new bike to my supervisor, who also cycles. This means I was biking during the hottest part of the day.
I brought only one goo packet. I'm not sure what my logic was when I grabbed only one-- perhaps I thought I was going to be super fast, and only take two hours to get the ride done (my typical average speed is 15 mph-- I was feeling overly ambitious/confident?), and a goo is to be consumed for every hour on the ride. At about 2:15 into the ride, I thought my muscles gave up on existing.
I didn't get lost. I have a tendency of doing so, so completing a 40 mile ride on my own is pretty incredible.
There was a freaking snake sun bathing across the Provo River trail. I've seen plenty of dead snake bodies on the trail, but never a living one. And it was very long, probably about 4 feet. I thought I might poo myself, and I managed to stay on top of my bike.

Next week, I need to up it to 50, and 60 after that. If this is how it feels after only 40 miles, I'm probably going to sleep for a few days straight after the century next month.

A dog's fascination with cat feces.

2008-07-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I started looking more closely at the application for KU's social work graduate program as a distraction from working on my portfolio. I figured looking at the application would be good motivation for working harder on my seminar's final project rather than just doing it to get it done, but the application does not require that I submit my portfolio. So much for that.

Last week, I got a couple of good rides in, though they were more eventful than I would have liked. Friday's ride was 26 miles, and at about 10 miles in, I observed an adult male pushing a large jogging stroller in the biking lane. I've gotten used to people completely ignoring the divided lanes on the Provo River trail, so I've given up on saying anything (never mind a cyclist actually broke his neck because someone was in his lane when he turned a corner). I slowed down and went to cruise around him, when just as I was passing him, he turned and spit.

Now, in case you haven't experienced it, guys usually do not spit with just spit. It's not like a bit of water-consistency coming out of their mouth. No, this was a mucous wad that coated my entire right arm, and it was instantly weighed down with the disgust and much too thick saliva. The guy apologized, but "sorry" didn't make the loogie disappear.

Saturday's ride was 30 miles, and it was quite joyful, especially since I managed to find some cows (oh, Kansas, I miss thee). I was headed down 89 toward Spanish Fork and had reached some pretty po-dunk back country. I was riding in the shoulder, and got to a place where a road turned off 89, so the shoulder became the right turn lane. When I got to this point, I looked at the off road and saw a lady in a large pick up wanting to turn left. I looked at her, she looked at me, and because I had not signaled and was not slowing down (I was at about 18 mph), I foolishly assumed she knew I wasn't turning right. I was actually halfway through the quasi-intersection, two feet from the front of her pickup, when she took her foot off the break and started to move forward. Thank goodness for Scott engineering for their women's bikes, because the brake was right at my fingertips and I was able to tap it a few times until the lady got the picture. After swerving and coming as close as I get to swearing, the lady gave me a really confused look and let me by. Ahem.

Yesterday's ride was uh MAY zing. It was only 20 miles, but while on the ride, I saw a mama quail with her little babies, eight squirrels (one baby) running across the trail, and in the middle of the trail at about mile 9, there was a young buck just looking at me. He let me get ten feet from him before he walked away. It was fantastic.

It's official: We're moving back to Kansas next May. Bobby's going to finish in Sport Science at the grand University of Kansas while I am in my graduate program. If all goes well, we'll be able to walk with each other the following May (three cheers for one year graduate programs). I'm not sure how Peli's going to like Kansas, what with her affinity for mountains, but looking at my graduate program instantly starts the butterflies in my tummy, and having Karlee and Trevor to play with every day will help her adjust more quickly, I'm sure.

Well, Bobby leaves for a race tonight after work, and will be gone tonight AND tomorrow night, so I'm going to pretend I'm going to actually be on time for my 7 a.m. weights class so I can leave a little early to spend time with him. As much as I love and adore Peli and Chuck, snorgling with them just isn't the same.

Hey, Sleepy Eyes.

2008-07-10T08:53:00.000-07:00

Our anniversary was this past Monday, and it was the most wonderful anniversary you can have when you're a couple of poor college students trying to get by. I have to laugh when I say that, because we really are poor, so what are we doing with such nice road bikes?

After I was done with my classes and internship, we took a ride on said road bikes to a crazy old lady's house who insisted that someone from the bikeshop come take her bike off a trainer she purchased years ago. Bobby's kind of a pushover when it comes to old ladies (silly Eagle scout in him), so that was our destination. We rode to Orem, and then did some climbing to get to a street next to a bunch of sheep, and then headed home. We cooked some dinner, and then saw that "Baby Mama" is in the dollar theatre (which is now really the dollar-fifty theatre) and jumped on that good-times-train. I was worried about it being sold out for the time we were going, but fortunately for us, the Emma Smith movie was in the theatre and everyone and their dog was going to that. Not us heathens!

If you were wondering, "Baby Mama" is a pretty long movie (two hours) given its content (comedies tend to run shorter), so when the closing credits were running through, I was ready to hit the sack (the combination of marriage and my 7 a.m. class means I'm old like that). I was dozing in my seat as we were driving home (Bobby was driving, for those of you who were alarmed) when I noticed we weren't driving to our house. Instead, Bobby was hunting around the streets that go into the mountains and pretending like he wasn't getting lost. Eventually, he parked, and being the romantic I am, I asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

Instead, we walked a little to a cliff overlooking Provo, all lit up like a Christmas tree, and he set up his fancy new phone to play Anberlin's "Inevitable." It's pretty much the sweetest song I've ever heard, so if you're unfamiliar, it's a good way to win points with your spouse/significant other. Bobby took me in his arms and we slow danced, all alone in our own little world. He won a lot of cute points with that.

It's hard to think we've been married for a year already. Time's flying, though I still feel like graduation is eons away (five more weeks, five more weeks, five more weeks...). I'm very fortunate in the sense that I have a loving, fun husband, with an adorable cat who snorgles me at night, and a little dog who looks at me with the most loving eyes whenever I get home. The combination of the three makes dealing with depression a piece of cake. Now, if I could only stop playing with them long enough to do my homework. It's hard to pretend I'm motivated this close to the end.

You know it's the fourth of July when...

2008-07-05T06:49:00.000-07:00

Bobby woke up in the wee hours of the morning to head off to the bike shop for the group ride that is scheduled for every Saturday at 7 a.m. When he walked out of the house, one of our neighbors across the street was outside yelling things at our Hispanic neighbors about how they "don't belong" and "don't deserve to be here." When no one showed up for the group ride, he returned, and when he pulled up he saw the same lady being cuffed and taken away. She was yelling something about showing her pride for her country.

On Thursday, my brand new bike arrived, and this morning, I get to go on my very first ride in a very, very long time. Sara is coming with me, which makes my heart happy. She informed me yesterday that I'm never allowed to leave Utah, because then she won't have any girl friends.
Perhaps I can convince her in the mean time that she would actually be much happier at KU. I had to laugh last week at the adoption event when we were volunteering, because this guy kept making loops around the store to where we were. Sara was convinced that meant he really wanted to adopt a dog, so I turned on the sales pitch and started talking to him about all the dogs we had there. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Sara, and he asked her what her necklace meant. She told him it was a cross, and he said, "Yeah, what does it mean?" He was very excited to have found a non-LDS girl in the Provo/Orem area, so I left the two of them to chat while I laughed at her awkward misfortune. Eventually, she found some way to bring up her boyfriend, and the guy quickly departed. Times like that make me especially grateful to be married.

Can I just take a moment to brag about how wonderful my dog is? We went hiking last weekend, and Peli spent the entire time off leash. We passed a lot of groups of people, and several of them had dogs. A lot of their dogs went nuts, barking and trying to run over to Peli. Peli listened to us, though, and never ran over to people or their dogs, and would only stop to sniff the dogs if we stopped. We passed a group of people that were holding onto a couple herding dogs, and Bobby stopped to pet them. He asked if they were Australian Shepherd or Heelers, and the person holding the leash said, "No, but could you stop giving them attention, because they're pulling." It wasn't a request, but a demand, as if it were Bobby's fault that her dogs were not listening to her. Peli goes nuts with everything outdoors because she absolutely loves being out there, playing and running and digging and rolling, but as soon as we call her, she responds. On mornings when we want to sleep in, she stays with us, snorgling with us the entire time. She's pretty much the best dog in the world. Three cheers for awesome landlords for letting us get her.