Day 88 - Bonus Post

I full out ran on the treadmill at the gym this morning.

I went to work in my Chacos and shorts.

The first Chaco day of the year is always a day of unrestrained joy.

I played outside with the kids and it was the perfect temperature.

I had some free strawberry smoothie, that tasted like summer.

I went to the night class that is the bane of my existence, and found a note on the door saying that class was canceled for the night.

On my drive home I turned up the radio and rolled down my windows. This song came on and I sang along at the top of my lungs as the wind threw my hair everywhere.

When I got home I made some calls and arranged to see some of my favorite people in the world this weekend, including this kid:

He's leaving on his mission in a couple of weeks (finally), so this will probably be the last time I see him for awhile. I think of him more like family that I don't get to talk to as much as I would like. I'm super excited to see him and several other people on my List O' Love, including two other friends, two aunts, and one set of grandparents.

Now I'm going to go shoot some hoops.

This really is a good, good life.

Day 88

A couple of days ago I sent a text out to some people who have spent a great deal of time in my company. I asked them all what their funniest or most entertaining memory with me was. So, today I'm beginning a series that examines the comedy that is my life from other people's points of view.

I'm going to start with my close friend, Tasha's, responses.

Back in our high school days, the place to be on a weekend night in autumn, was hopelessly lost in the middle of a corn maze. For those of you unfamiliar with corn mazes, it is a cornfield that someone has cut a path through to make a walk-through maze.

I have a lot of memories with a corn maze as the backdrop, but for the one that Tasha reminded me of, we had gotten a good-sized group date together.

My date sneaked out of the frame for this picture. No joke.
One second he was right behind me on the far left here,
and then the camera came out and he was gone.
 Sketchy.

We set off through the maze, and split off into couples as we went. My date and I were one of the first couples out, so we headed back over to my car to wait for everyone else. It was the end of the season, and by now the sun had set, so it was getting really cold. 3 couples had gotten back by this point, and I had 6 seats in my trusty Pontiac Grand Prix, so I told everyone to get into the car and I'd turn the heater on while we waited. When another couple made it out, we told them to squeeze in, too. Then another couple came back. We couldn't just leave them out in the cold, so we told them to squeeze in on top of people. Tasha and her date were the last two to navigate themselves free of the labyrinth, some time after the rest of us. The scene they were welcomed with was a Grand Prix that was shaking back and forth with the windows completely fogged up.

They hesitated, for obvious reasons, before approaching.

As they made their way nearer, a single hand slid down one of the windows, a la the love scene in Titanic. This was followed by, "Oh, Jack!" and loud laughter. Getting closer, they began to hear cries of, "Move your bony butt!", "Whoa! Watch your hands! Too friendly!", and "OW! Elbow in my back! Move now!"

Tasha's date bravely opened the door to find ten people crammed into a space that was snug with just six.

We greeted them with a joyful, "Heeey! We were just trying to decide where to go for hot chocolate. You look cold. Hop on in!"

Tasha's date, Steven, shrugged and crowd surfed his way into the front seat. Tasha squeezed in somewhere. At some point while we were figuring out the details of where to go next, Steven wrote his name across my entire windshield. Eventually, everyone extracted themselves from the car and we went for hot chocolate in different vehicles. My car de-fogged.

But, no matter how many times I washed it, until the day I sold my car, Steven's name would still appear on my windshield when it would fog up.

That story got me thinking about another time in high school that I found myself in a fogged up vehicle on chillly autumn night, only this time I was alone with a boy.

It was another group date, this time for a 50's themed dance. We had just finished with the dance and were looking for something else to do. As we drove around in my friend's suburban, someone threw out the idea of having an X-Box party. From what my date, Eric, and I understood, we were just swinging by the driver, Nicole's, house really quick to pick up her gaming system, before making our way over to someone else's house to hook the systems together and play a big game together.

When we pulled up to Nicole's house, though, everyone jumped out of the car and joined her inside. My date and I were in the back seat. I was just completing my maneuvering over the top of the middle seat in my poodle skirt when my date declared that he didn't want to run into the house, only to run right back out again. I didn't want to leave him in there by himself, so I sat in the middle seat while he sat in the back, and we started talking.

We were so caught up in our conversation, that we didn't notice when over a half hour had passed, and none of our friends had returned. We also didn't noticed that our talking had fogged up all the windows. We didn't notice these things until we heard screaming, followed by the door flying open as Nicole threw herself on top of me and cried out, "Protect your virtue!"

I was completely confused. It was explained that they had all gotten inside the house and decided to just play the game there. It was after a few rounds of their game that someone thought to ask, "Where are Steph and Eric?" They all got quiet as someone cracked the blinds from the house to see the truck sitting on the street with the windows covered in condensation. Someone called out, "They're gettin' busy in the 'burban!" as they all ran out to save us from ourselves.

There were several other times when I would give one of my closest friends a ride home, and he and I would sit in front of his house talking into the wee hours of the morning before he'd leave.

For a girl who didn't even get her first kiss until after high school, I sure spent a lot of time with boys in vehicles with the windows fogged up.

Day 87

Calories burned at the gym: 527

Today I found out what it is like to be that kid.

You know the one I'm taking about.

They were the kid back in school who always thought they were one of the cool crowd. They were a happy kid. And then Valentine's Day would come. They would joyfully roam the room, distributing Valentines to most of the other kids. Then they would return to their seat and immediately pull the lid off of their carefully decorated red shoe-box, eagerly anticipating the bountiful loot to be found within.

However, as they peered inside in an advanced stage of shock, there was only one Valentine to be revealed.

And it was from the teacher.

I can now sympathize with that kid.

They recently set up a box at my work where staff could fill out papers saying nice things that they noticed about each other. Today the box was emptied out and everyone's notes were put into stacks. I was excited as I walked over. I am all about positive reinforcement, especially when it is directed at me. As I scanned the piles of little orange papers, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw mine.

There was one paper in the stack.

It was written by my boss.

I may have voiced my disbelief a little too much at this point. And by "may have", I mean that I did. Not one of my finer moments.

This was actually a great thing to happen, because it was a humbling moment. There are times when I think that I am the cool, popular kid. But, alas, I was not meant to be that kid.

I am the quirky one.

And don't you forget it.

By the end of work, a few of my other co-workers had written me more notes, but most of them were in the same handwriting, so I have my suspicions. I love those girls who wrote them, and I know that they were sincere. Honestly, I love all of my co-workers. I know they don't hate me or anything. But, I'd already seen the unflattering beginning of the day results.

Combine that experience with the news that we'll be having some of the higher ups come in and critique us, and I had been presented with an awesome chance to do some real soul searching at work. It was an opportunity to stop and analyze everything that I do, and everything I do not do. I'm excited to set some goals for myself and try to become the very best person I can be in all aspects of my life, not just my health. I'm always open to new ideas of how I can improve, especially at work, so while I'm trying to make some steps in the right direction before I'm analyzed for faults, I'm interested in hearing the results, afterwards.

An unexpected bonus of all of these thoughts in my head, is that it put me in the right state of mind to play a sweet game of lightning basketball with my co-workers, and actually sink one or two shots.

So, hey, all in all, I have to say that today was a good day.

Day 86: Bonus Post

I just have to share this. I am a huge fan of stories, particularly love stories. They are made so much better when they are true. This is one of the most beautiful stories I've ever heard. The animation is a little odd, but the recording comes from StoryCorps, which is a group that goes around the country and records average people just telling their own experiences.

Day 86

Calories burned at the gym today: 428

I've just been failing with reporting my weigh in on Mondays lately. I weigh myself in the morning and then go have a busy day before I sit down at the computer after work to type up this here blog.

And that is my excuse.

This week I lost 2 pounds! Yay! This brings my total loss to 37 pounds! 13 more to my half way celebration, 63 more to the finish line.

Also relevant is the fact that I had two kindergarteners tell me that I am strong today.  They were hanging on around my biceps and they were trying to pull me down, but I resisted. Apparently, this resisting involved flexing, because they both screamed "Whoa!" One of them added, "Teacher! You has muuuscle." 


That's correct. I officially have enough muscle to impress a 5 year old.

Pre-order your tickets now for the gun show.

In other news, I have been getting a plethora of tiny red and blue bruises on my body and I have no idea what to make of them. They are scattered enough that I can't find a common outside influence. I don't know whether to be legitimately concerned or just poke at them before I ignore their existence.

New goal: Drink the 64 oz of water everyone and their dog have told me that I should be drinking for as long as I can remember.

Chug! Chug! Chug!

 It is going to happen on a consistent basis. Other than the need to remain within sprinting distance of a restroom at all times, I'm curious to see what changes come of this one. The main thing I'm looking for is appetite suppression. I've also heard that dehydration can cause chronic headaches, which have been a recent development in my life. I'll let you know what comes of this.

Awesome update: Today I jogged for a full half hour on a hill setting at the gym. This is the most I've done since my knee was giving me problems a few weeks back. Thus far, I have not had any problems as a result. I'm back in business, baby. The 5K is going to happen.

Day 85

Calories burned at the gym today: 591

The first thing I did this morning was go into the gym and upgrade my membership from the basic version to the premium. This means that I now get unlimited use of the tanning beds and massage chairs, and I can also bring along a guest for no extra charge every time I go.

Tonight I brought along my mom.

My head was closer to the camera.
It is not naturally twice the size of my mom's noggin.

She's been debating joining for awhile now. So, when after I got off work today, I showed up in her bedroom dressed for the gym and asked, "Ready to go?" I didn't meet much resistance. My mom has never been one to reach her limit and back off. It's more her style to cruise past her limit at the highest possible speed and then regret it awhile later. This is one of the things that I've always admired about her. Today was no exception. I can tell you right now that she's going to be feeling this one right down to her core. So, kudos to my tough mom.

Alright, after a recent conversation with a friend (who lives very far away from Logan, so all you locals don't bother thinking this is that guy from your church), I feel the need to make a public service announcement.

(Names and identifying details have been changed or removed to protect the identities of those involved in the following story.)

Dear Single Men,

Recently, I received a text that went like this:

"I signed up for this thing my ward (church) does called "Guess Who Came To Dinner" where they assign people to hosts and they meet up for dinner. I got a call from this guy telling me that he was hosting and all the details and such. I didn't recognize his name or anything. However, when he answered the door last night I immediately recognized him as one of the "strange" guys that every ward has... great. But, I walk in and right behind me is another guy who is nice looking. The two of us were the only ones who showed up! So the three of us ate pizza and George, the host, talked at us for three hours. I found out the other guy, Jimmy, lives by me! So, that's nice. As soon as Jimmy asked to use the restroom an alarm went off in my head! I didn't want him to leave me alone! But he did and as soon as the bathroom door closed George pounced! He started asking me questions about my "dating scene" and then asked me out for next weekend. Bah! Luckily I had a good excuse but he was like "It's okay, I have your number so we'll work out another time." Then Jimmy came out and I came up with an excuse to go home. It didn't help that this whole experience gave me a migraine and I went straight home and threw up a couple times"

Boys, boys, boys.

After talking to her on the phone later, I also gathered that he spent a great deal of time talking about his past relationships and his current burning desire to get married, as well as how much money he makes at his job right now. He also has four cats that he baby talked to for awkward lengths of time.

Later, my friend forwarded me a couple of texts that George sent her today:

"Hey man u are very pretty thanks so much for comeing yesterday i really liked you being there jimmy was ok too but beutiful lady much better"

"Dont u be ignoring me u pretty little thing i so want to know whats going on in your adorable world"

Oh heeeeeeeck no.

Males, if this is your standard method of  picking up ladies, you need to seriously reevaluate your game plan.

Personally, I'm more for the "friends first, lovers later" approach. That being said, there is nothing wrong with straight up asking a girl out. Just try not to attack her. If the girl you are pursuing is wringing her hands and anxiously eying all available exits with the look of a cornered fawn, it is time for you to back off.

Few things turn anyone off more than being talked "at" rather than "with" for long stretches of time. This is particularly true for women. The best way to get a girl interested in you is to show that you are genuinely interested in her as a person, not just an item to place a ring, or your lips, on.

Avoid the topics of past relationships and your aching need for marriage and babies like the plague for the first little while you know a girl. Busting these things out on the first night shows that you are desperate and/or still stuck on a past lover. This is not flattering to your date and can be a red flag. If you must mention a past relationship, don't air all your dirty laundry over the dinner table. This gets exceedingly awkward.

Other topics to avoid include anything about how amazing you think you are. If you prattle on about how stellar your salary and house are, and how you are the perfect candidate for a boyfriend, there is a good chance she will disagree with you. By all means, show your best qualities, but be modest and humble. Those traits are far more attractive than pride and conceit.

Attempting to woo a woman via text is a tricky move. If you are one of those people whose 'text voice" sounds as if you have just single-handedly downed half of a keg when you are, in fact, stone cold sober, then you need to keep your texts very short and to the point. Ideally, your texts should only be exchanged as a means of setting up a way for you to connect through astronger form of communication. Phrases such as "but beutiful lady better" do not impress anyone, my dear Casanova.

I just cannot think of a situation where addressing your intended lady with the words, "hey man" is acceptable.

If you find yourself thinking of saying anything along the lines of, "dont u be ignoring me," this should send up a trigger in your mind that she might actually be ignoring you on purpose because she is not interested. I've been there. It hurts. But, you are just going to have to move on, because this is when you really start to send up bright red creepy flares. Take a step back, slow down. Give her a chance to get to know you for awhile. She might decide she's interested, or she might not, but twisting her arm is not ever going to end well.

Now, I have to say that I've always had a great deal for sympathy for guys. I'm glad that I'm not expected to do the asking, planning, and pursuing. That has got to be some seriously intimidating and difficult work for most guys. George is probably a very nice guy. I know that he rescued those cats from the pound, so he must have a very caring heart. And, really, I can't knock his taste in women. My friend is an incredible person. He just wants what anyone wants, to love and be loved. My heart goes out to him. But, he's going about things all wrong.

So, there you have it menfolk. Follow these instructions and hopefully the woman of your dreams will leave smiling with your number, rather than running out of the door while trying not to get sick all over your front yard.

Best wishes, and good luck out there,

Steph

Day 84

My RX for a severe case of the Bad Weather Mondays (Mondaus Sucketius).




For best results, sing along at full volume.


Follow with a dose of this:

Carl Meets Russell
Up at MOVIECLIPS.com

Next, read this:

Let's say a guy named Fred is attracted to a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else. 

 And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Martha, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

 And then, there is silence in the car.

 To Martha, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of. 

 And Fred is thinking: Gosh. Six months. 

 And Martha is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily towards, I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person? 

 And Fred is thinking: ...so that means it was...let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means...lemme check the odometer...Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here. 

 And Martha is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed - even before I sensed it - that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected. 

And Fred is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

 And Martha is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure. 

 And Fred is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty...scumballs. 

 And Martha is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy. 

 And Fred is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their... 

 "Fred," Martha says aloud.

 "What?" says Fred, startled. 

 "Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have...oh dear, I feel so..."(She breaks down, sobbing.) 

 "What?" says Fred.

 "I'm such a fool," Martha sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse." 

 "There's no horse?" says Fred. 

 "You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Martha says. 

 "No!" says Fred, glad to finally know the correct answer. "It's just that...it's that I...I need some time," Martha says.

 (There is a 15-second pause while Fred, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.) "Yes," he says. 

(Martha, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Fred, do you really feel that way?" she says.

 "What way?" says Fred. 

 "That way about time," says Martha. 

 "Oh," says Fred. "Yes." 

(Martha turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.) "Thank you, Fred," she says.

 "Thank you," says Fred. 

 Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Fred gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a college basketball game between two South Dakota junior colleges that he has never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.  

The next day Martha will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. 

They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it either.

 Meanwhile, Fred, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Martha's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Martha ever own a horse?" 

 And that's the difference between men and women. 

That is often attributed to Dave Berry, but I can't find anything directly tying him to it. Whoever wrote it, I laughed.

Finish it off with a trip to the gym.

Monday cured.

Day 83

We have already previously learned what a successful v-logger I am.

With the trip down to the Color Festival today, I figured it would be a great opportunity to put in a second attempt. In figuring this, I failed to take several things into account, most importantly that:

1) When I am around my friends I giggle incessantly.

2) I have yet to completely master the video feature on my little camera.

3) I do not own video editing software to combine all my clips into one movie, or even trim the clips I do have.

This means that you are about to view a whole bunch of poorly shot, very short clips, some of which are hard to grasp what is happening. For this, I offer you my apologies. Here's to hoping that one day I master the medium of video.

The Holi Festival of Colors is celebrated every year at the Lotus Temple in Spanish Fork, Utah. I still don't completely understand the story behind it, but I know it involves a whole lot of chanting Hare Krishna and the burning of a witch to banish evil, which they replicate using an effigy. The festival also celebrates the coming of Spring with all its colors. The event here in Utah has been getting progressively larger for several years now. This year was huge. I've never been before, but it was pretty awesome.

The weather actually held out really well for us all day. The only thing we encountered was a light rain on the way home.

So, we started out walking. It turns out it was considerably longer than a half mile. So, the random passers-by in the parking lot that I overheard saying that little tid-bit of information are liers. I'm not bitter, though. It got me some extra exercise and saved me a $2 fee for the shuttle.

Then we wandered into the colorful masses in our white clothes. This meant that at first it was very easy to spot members of our group.

Not exactly as difficult as "Where's Waldo?".

Then the one o'clock color throwing happened.

Then things really got crazy.

Eventually we made our own little circle for a minute.

Then we decided to go up the hill, towards the temple, where I encountered a curious display.

We purchased our own colors and began using each other as canvases.

As we walked around, people would just randomly throw color on us. If you tried to stand still, somebody would try to get past you and just push you. That's what happened to me near the end of this video.

The more time went by, the more chalked up we became.

After wandering around for awhile, waiting for the 3 o'clock throwing, we decided to go to the balcony of the temple for a better view. While up there, we witnessed a smaller, unscheduled throwing.

The temple itself was really a beautiful building.

After getting our fill of that view, we returned down to the main part of Woodstock and became even more colorful.

My hair had a wicked case of polka dots.

The main announcer kept on encouraging everyone to hug strangers. I found this girl with a "Free Hugs" sign and did a half-hug. I'm not that friendly.

As it was now closing in on 3 o'clock, we crushed our way back into the mob for one last hurrah.

During this throw I was forced up against a guy with a BYU lanyard in such a way that he might not be welcomed at his school anymore. The crowd was so tight that I had to stay there for several minutes, as well. So, I slapped a couple of bright pink hand prints on the back of his still somewhat white shirt.

By now we felt as though we had taken part in all that this festival had to offer us, so we made our way back to street. But, not before we stopped to see a few things on our way.

The smoldering witch effigy. Good news, world, evil is gone!

A couple who decided this would be a memorable way to spend their wedding day.

The temple's llama farm! One of these spat grass on Nate. Nasty llama.

As we were walking back to our cars, we suddenly all realized that we were starving to death. When a Subway and Burger King were spotted, there was no stopping us.

As we continued our journey, we realized that we were in the town of Salem and had just burned a witch. This revelation inspired Chelsea to sing a tune that she swears she was not making up on the spot, no matter how it sounds.

After reaching our cars, we said goodbye and went our separate ways. On the way home, Hailey, Chelsea and I had some deep, incredible conversations, such as this one:

While on I-15, a couple of guys kept on pulling up next to us, staring, and laughing. Finally we rolled down our window and they called out, "What's goin' on?!" as we passed each other. We rolled up our windows and kept to smiling and waving, letting them try to figure it out themselves. Because, really, this amount of awesome could not be justly described in a passing moment on the freeway.

It was indeed epic.

Day 82

This quick post is going to count for yesterday. There should be a much more exciting post tonight after I return from my journey to the Festival of Colors, which I anticipate will be epic.

I realized it's been awhile since I've posted a recipe, so I'm going to share one that I made up. It's very adaptable for personal tastes, I just used what I had available from my fridge. 

I call this:

Steph's I-Want-Pizza-But-I'm-On-A-Diet Pizza

Cooking Spray

1 Fat Free Whole Wheat Tortilla

1/2 Cup Spaghetti/ Marinara Sauce

1/4 Cup Cheese

1 Vegan Veggie Burger (Or whatever other low-calorie toppings you would like to use)

If using veggie burger, start by spraying a pan and the cooking the burger on medium heat until it is done.

Remove burger from pan. Spray pan again and put tortilla into pan. Use spatula to make sure tortilla lie flat in pan. Leave tortilla for about one or two minutes while you cut up the burger and cheese into small pieces. You want the cooked side of the tortilla to be crispy, but not black. Flip the tortilla when it is ready.

Turn heat down to low. Spread sauce on top of tortilla. Add cheese and burger, or whatever toppings you'd like. Fresh veggies are awesome on this. When cheese is melted, then slide pizza off pan and onto a plate. Use pizza cutter or, if you're feeling relatively ambitious and coordinated, a knife to cut pizza into slices.

Chow down and then drop me a line to let me know how you feel about this one! It only packs a little over 300 calories, even less if you substitute out the burger for veggies.

Day 81

Calories burned at gym this morning: 523




I don't even care that it's not Valentine's Day. That video makes any day an exceptionally awesome day.

Alright, I have a dilemma.

Every woman has heard of the different body types. On the off chance that anyone has not been educated in the finer points of womenliness, I will provide a visual aid.

There are different tips for dressing to flatter each body type, so as to accentuate the positives. Since becoming conscious of fashion and dressing for form as well as function, I have traded off between being round and an apple. I have a wardrobe filled with my attempts at disguising my waistline. I just expected that I would lose weight evenly. 

I was very, very wrong.

The inches lost on my arms, chest, hips, butt, and legs, hovers between 0"-2". 

The weight lost off of my waist is closer to 7" or 8". 

This means that I am now the proud owner of a new body shape: The Hourglass.

Well, at least I would be proud, if I could figure out what the heck to do with it. I do not own clothing that flatters this shape. Since I bought most of my clothing with the specific purpose of hoping to draw attention to anything but my waist, it is still doing it's job. The problem is that it is now disguising what I like to call "success". 

I hesitate to make any new purchases while my body is still changing so much. So, I guess that everyone will just have to believe me for now when I say that my waist is close to ten inches smaller than my hips and chest. It's under these clothes, somewhere. And it is hot. Just ignore the slacker parts of my body that think they are fine where they are right now. They've got to come around eventually.

There is certainly a giant, neon, silver lining to be claimed here. One of my main goals when I set out was to greatly increase my heart health. According to several articles, waist size is a great indicator of heart health. With that in mind, I was eager to lower my over-all body weight, with the hopes that eventually my waist would gradually shrink to the healthy size. The fact that my waist is shrinking so fast, seems to point to my heart health increasing, and this pleases me.

All in all, I will take lost weight from wherever it wants to fall off.

Being fashionable will just have to wait.

Day 80

Calories burned exercising today: 430



For close to nine months of my life I lived in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Living and working up around Yellowstone and the Tetons was a dream of mine from the time that I was just a wee lass. My family took vacations up there the majority of summers in my childhood. The summer of '08 I started work at a place that did chuckwagon dinner rides and a dinner shows in the city of Jackson Hole called the Bar-T-5.

Anyone who has spent a good deal of time talking to me knows how often the words, "When I lived up in Jackson, there was this one time that..." escape my lips. My time up there provided me with many of the most random and entertaining experiences from my entire life. I've decided to dedicate a post to my time there. As I sat in class jotting down my most epic memories, I quickly realized that one post was just not going to cut it. So, consider this part one in a series.

I'll start out by detailing my typical day on the job. I was better about this the second summer, but the first year I made a point of sleeping until the last possible second. I would then hurry and slap together a breakfast that I ate on my walk across the property to the kitchen.

Caught red handed assembling a sandwich for breakfast while I should be working

Once in the kitchen the five or six of us would began preparing the food for that evenings shows. We were responsible for preparing barbecue chicken, roast beef, brownies, and a whole mess of baked beans. If the wranglers (staff who worked with horses, maintained the grounds, and drove the guests to the show in wagons) finished with their work before we finished our work in the kitchen they would head over and help us finish up.

The kitchen crew hard at work

After we had everything ready for later on, we'd head into the main house for lunch, which was prepared by the staff cook. We'd all squish in at one huge table and then one smaller one off to the side. At first I was pretty uncomfortable with that, but it didn't take long until the crew felt more like family and I loved having everyone around the table laughing and telling stories.

I do not envy my bosses' food bill. I'm fairly certain the crew out-ate the horses

After lunch there would be some down time to quickly run any errands you needed to and get showered up. Then it was time for the kitchen crew to get in our levis, boots and button up shirts, grab our hats, and head out to load up the chuckwagon with all of our food and supplies that we needed for the show.

Loading up the beans and pots for the corn into the chuckwagon

After the chuckwagon was hitched up to a truck, we'd roll out and head up the canyon to what I liked to call "my office". We had a beautiful area in the forest next to a creek where we'd do most of the actual cooking over huge gas stoves, next to all the picnic tables we prepared for guests.

Getting the salad ready

This was one of my favorite parts of the day, because while we were waiting for the band to come and warm up, we'd be blasting country music on the speakers. Then my boss, Chris, would warm up with his guitar, and I could usually talk him into playing something by Garth Brooks. Then the band would warm up and we'd finish cooking and setting up camp and then listen on the walkie-talkies to hear that the wagons had started up the canyon. Then the guests would arrive.

The masses converge upon the pavilion 

After guests sat down, Chris would welcome them all and then we'd serve them their dinner. We'd then go around and collect plates and refill drinks. After most of the people finished eating, the show would start and a couple of the kitchen crew would grab as many of our dirty dishes as we could, load them into a truck, and head back to the kitchen to whip through as many dishes as possible before the show ended and the chuckwagon arrived with the rest. At that point, the whole kitchen crew would be in there. The commercial dishwasher doesn't hold a ton at once, but it only takes around one or two minutes, so there would be someone who's sole responsibility was to makes sure that was running continuously. A couple of people would be up to their armpits in dishwater and sanitizing water as they hand washed dishes. All of the dishes had to air dry over night, but the kitchen didn't have a ton of counter space, so one person's job was to grab all of the clean dishes and figure out how to stack and situate them so that everything fit. When things were in a really good flow, and we were feeling adventurous, the person on sanitation would just throw the clean dishes from the sink to the stacker. This was a risk because if somebody fumbled the dish, then it would have to go back through the cleaning again, and then you would be nobody's friend.

Everyone in their places for cleaning

Mopping and stacking

 When we finished up in the kitchen we'd head out to see if there was anything we could do to help the wranglers finish up with their work. Then all of us would gather together for a quick meeting where Chris could talk about any concerns. Then we'd all head back to the big house for dinner.

Fantastic night where we had burgers for dinner.
I really do love a good burger.

After dinner everyone usually ended up crowding in around the TV in the front room watching America's Funniest Home Videos (which have never been as funny as they were with that group) and then a movie. As the summer went on, more people would pair up and then movie time would turn into couple time on the couches. This bothered me, so I'd just go to my room and hang out there until I fell asleep. A few times we all piled into cars and the back of trucks and drove out of town and up a windy dirt road to where we could have a bonfire.

Pretty sure I was watching a couple of my co-workers dance around a huge fire

Some days on the job were tougher than others. In general, as with anything, the job was as hard as you made it.

Last winter I went up to Jackson to visit my bosses with a couple of coworkers, and I had an amazing realization. As we went around the last bend on highway 89 and the first part of Jackson came into view, the car suddenly got very quiet. I felt an unexpected lump form in my throat. I finally managed to get out, "It feels like I'm coming home. I mean, I just left home, but coming here gives me the same feeling."

Jackson Hole is my second home.

Day 79

Calories burned at the gym today: 455

So, I realized this morning that I had failed to give my weigh in results for the week. My bad, sorry. So, here they are: 0 pounds! Ta-da! I'm not really upset, though. Last week was a pretty off week for me. There were even a few days there where I didn't actively track my food or go to the gym. I'm back now, though! Motivation re-accomplished.

Tressa was up from Salt Lake today, so we met up for lunch. The very first thing she said as we hugged was, "Oh my gosh! You look fantastic! The pictures on your blog don't do you any justice." After that, all I could say was, "I love you. I miss you. Please move back."

Tres and I spent a a good hour and a half talking, and even then I really had to make an effort to walk away, because I was going to be late for work. One of the topics we touched on was why we are glad that we did not get married right out of high school.

This reminded me of an experience that I had about four years ago. I was taking care of some kids. There was one boy in particular who was about four years old, and just the cutest thing to ever hit this planet. He had obviously picked up his social skills from watching his parents interact with their friends. He came over and sat on my lap. This is the conversation that followed:

Boy: So, how are your babies?
Me: I don't actually have any babies, yet.
Boy: Oh. Well, how is your husband?
Me: Um, I don't have one of those yet, either.
Boy: (Exasperated sigh) Well, then, what do you have?
Me: I have a mom and a dad and a brother, just like you. I also have...
Boy: Wanders off, disinterested


I laughed then, and I still laugh now whenever I think of that. However, that conversation pretty much sums up how I feel when I talk to a lot of people. No husband, no babies? Then nobody knows what to talk to me about.

The thing is, those subjects used to bother me a lot. I was convinced that I was supposed to be married and popping out kids before I made it out of my teens. Now I realize that I was a complete fool who thought she knew who she was. Looking back I can see that there were so many holes in my self-identity. It has taken me most of my time since high school to get a solid grip on who I am, what makes me tick, and what I truly want. The interesting thing is that I thought I knew the answer to those things when I graduated from high school. But, I only knew the shallow points. I knew what I liked, but I couldn't have told you the deeper reasons of why I liked it. When I would date a guy I would just go on and on about how much I liked him and the cute things he did. What I really liked about a lot of those boys was that they met my standards for those I would date.

A) They were male.

B) They liked church.

C) They paid attention to me.

Now, I will not say that all three of those things are not very high up on my list of important attributes that I am looking for, but they are more detailed and personalized by this point. I'm still very open to different guys, but  I've learned some very important lessons through some experiences that were very interesting, and some that were just plain awful. Some of my biggest revelations are as follows:

1) I do not want to be in a relationship with a guy who is not interested in me.

Okay. I can just see all of you smacking your foreheads. I realize this is an incredibly obvious thing. But for me it was quite the lesson. I would find a guy that I was interested in, he would then give various signs that he wasn't really interested in me. I would quickly ignore these signs. I would hang around and make my interest obvious enough that he either ran away or gave in and dated me. Eventually, when they would quite blatantly tell me they were not interested, I would hold out some sense of hope. Because, subconsciously, I'm a masochist. Apparently. Because I can offer no other explanation for my ridiculous behavior. Now, if I find out that a guy isn't interested, sure it stings, but I will no longer pursue that guy. Having to constantly plead to be in the relationship your are in is not healthy. It's just plain sick. Get help.

2) I do not just want to be married. I want to be married to a guy who loves and appreciates me.

Again, this is not theoretical physics. This one was huge for me, though. When I really care about someone, I will do anything in my power to make them happy. When asked or hinted at I have done anything from doing their cleaning, to driving them across the state, to baking them a feast in the middle of the night. I would also do every one of those things with a smile on my face, because that is how I show someone that I care about them, I do something that requires action. Unfortunately, I have found that this quality can be manipulated very easily, to the point of being used up when needed, and disregarded when not. Once I recognized what was happening I got out of the situation and then swore that I would never marry someone who took me for granted. I by no means require that they show love in the same way, but they must show love.

3) It's very important that they be my friend and intellectually similar. Or, at least, be very kind about being smarter than I am.

Basically, I don't want someone who is under the impression that Shakespeare was a Native American war chief with who favored a long pointy stick as his weapon of choice (Shake spear. Do ya get it? Aw, never mind.). I also don't want somebody who insists on constantly talking about things that are way over my head, and then treats me like a child who they must dumb things down for. When they do this, they do not even meet the friend qualification.

Those are three of the main lessons I've learned regarding relationships in my past half decade of existence. They are also three shining examples as to why it would have been stupid for me to try and pick a guy to tie myself to for time and all eternity when I was at the frail age of eighteen. Those of you who made the decision to get married when you were younger can un-bunch your panties, I have no say on the soundness of your decision. It is completely possible that you found a person that is an excellent match to you. I'm just saying that personally, I was not at all ready back then. I like my odds a whole lot better now that I'm playing without the blindfold on.

Day 78

I really feel like I have to share this with you. I was going to mask this day over and post something shallow and filled with some light humor, because I never intended to share things like this on my blog. However, I am truly unable to re-direct my thoughts elsewhere, so I will post them.

I know this sounds like a familiar and tired phrase now, but today was a very difficult day.

This time it had nothing to do with my diet and everything to do with my job.

As I have mentioned before, I really love what I do for work. Working with the kids in after school club brings me a lot of my greatest joy. What I haven't mentioned is one of the leading factors in my decision to not become a teacher. The lives of some of these angels are nothing short of Hell. It is impossible for me not to love these children. I can say with complete honesty that I would lay down my life for them without the slightest hesitation. So, seeing the product of a life much harder than any soul deserves causes me a deep kind of pain. I have spent nights lying awake, worrying about them. These children are in my heart and stay firmly planted there even after I leave work for the day. This is very similar to why I walked away from nursing. I can't leave work at work. 

Today was a particularly difficult day. When I pulled my car into home I saw that there was a break in the storm, so I grabbed a basketball and decided to make an effort to go to my nothing place. However, even though I had every intention of thinking about absolutely nothing, I could not stop the tide of emotions today. I finally gave up when it began to hail on me. 

Fortunately, I've been blessed with experiences in my life that have helped me know with a certainty where I can turn for peace. 

For any of you who are not religious and can sense where this is going, I ask that you just hear me out. This isn't my religion. This is who I am.

So, I said a prayer. I then remembered one of my favorite scriptures. It is the Savior speaking in the New Testament, John 16:33 and He says, "These things I have spoken unto you,  that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but, be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."

There are times in my life, this one included, when I look at the world around me and feel a deep sadness. There are so many horrible things that effect my life, but that I personally can do very little or nothing to change. But, I do know that I have a Savior who has already felt the pain of those I love, and even the pain that I feel on their behalf. In fact, He and our Father love them even more than I do. Even though I have been particularly troubled as of late, every time that I plead for peace and comfort, it has come. This has been true through all of the most tumultuous times of my life. 

I truly am blessed. Even now, when I feel so helpless, and all I can do is pray, I have seen undeniable proof that God is mindful of all of His children. Miracles happen on a daily basis. A miracle is evidence of God's hand moving in the world around us.

I cannot legally share with you the things I've seen at work, but I will tell you some of the miracles I've seen in my life.

When I was 4 years old my family moved into a house. The plan was just to live in that house temporarily, until they found the house they really wanted. Temporary turned into the next 12 years. My parents were house hunting the entire time and just could never find anything that was quite right. During this time my family were not religious. They were wonderful, moral people who had me baptized at the age of 8, but that was about the only time I had set foot in a church. Around the time that I started middle school, I began to edge toward some riskier behavior and a group of friends who embraced that lifestyle. One day, after a particularly bad decision, I was left feeling alone. I felt empty and abandoned by all that the world had to offer. My heart was softened for a very tender experience that began to open my eyes to the fact that I am loved more than I can comprehend. However, I had no idea what to do with this new thought. It may have ultimately amounted to little, were it not for the amazing women and girls that were in that neighborhood. They suddenly began to genuinely reach out to me and invite that awkward girl with some bad habits to church activities. I really loved how happy I felt around these people. They certainly weren't perfect, but I began to feel a peace when I was around them that I did not find with my other friends. After awhile, I began to go to Young Womens meetings on Sundays. The comfort and joy was even stronger there. After awhile, they invited me to join them for sacrament meeting. This was when I stopped to take a hard look at my life. By now, I was at the beginning of 8th grade. I had kind of been edging away from the friends with bad habits, but I still saw them regularly. However, it was at this point that I made a conscious decision to walk away from them and from everything in my life that conflicted with the values of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I made this very difficult decision, because I had already seen how much happiness had come to me with what changes I had already made. 

I was all in.

Since I made that decision I have faced many more extremely difficult challenges. There have been times when I have felt very sad, and very down. However, those times have never been as deep or seemed as unconquerable as they did before I decided to stand firmly with my Heavenly Father. I have since had peace and a quiet strength to get me through anything in life. 

I am so grateful for this. I hope that each of you reading this know that the same peace and joy is completely within reach for you, as well. I can promise that it is. Try for yourself. If you don't know where to start, www.mormon.org is a great place to look for help. I also would love to talk to you, so you can feel free to drop me a message.

I'm going to share with you one of my favorite songs to feel comfort (Particularly from 2:25 on, but all of it is beautiful.). 

Listen to the words, feel the peace, and know that you are loved. 

Day 77

The other day I found my favorite reader of this blog. Unfortunately, they posted their comment anonymously,  so we will just have to refer to them as "Anny". 

Anywho, after a recent post Anny commented to tell me what he/she wanted to hear more about from that post! This is why Anny is now my super-hero and the rest of you are currently at epic side-kick level. 

They say a picture is worth a hundred trillion words. In my case, many more words than that are necessary to tell the story that Anny has requested. That story is the history of my hair. I've decided to let the pictures do most of the talking, and I will just insert some explanations in the captions. Brace yourself, this is not a paved road.

I was born with a head full of hair. I had my first haircut at exactly 6 months. This is what my hair looked like by 1 year.

At 4 years old I clearly remember going into my mom's room and telling her that I wanted long hair like Barbie's. I had that thought firmly planted in my head for several years. During these years, there was a battle waged every time anyone wanted to do absolutely anything to my hair. Don't let this sweet little lady look fool you. I was a serious fighter when it came to my golden locks. 

Seeing as I was born in '88 and raised in the early 90's, my early childhood was haunted by the bangs. Anyone from the same era knows what I am talking about. If not, then refer to the above picture as exhibit A. I didn't mind the bangs on reasons of fashion at the time. No, my hatred of the bangs was directly tied to the fact that my nose reacted to my mom's hairspray similarly to how most people react to pepper spray. Let me tell you, the bangs did not naturally defy gravity in that strange manner.

By 4th grade I had rid myself of the bangs. My hair went through a stage where it randomly decided to be a couple shades darker. 

5th grade marked the beginning of a rougher part of my life. It was also the first time that I figured out that even when I didn't feel in control in other parts of my life, I could always control my hair. So, I made the decision to cut it dramatically. One friend at school literally freaked out and chased me around the classroom making threats when I came to school the next day. I still have no idea why she was more attached to my hair than I was.

Aww, we enter 6th grade, where the seriously awkward phase really takes off. I didn't do much with my hair, because it just seemed to take too long. Most of my hair's time from here until high school was spent in a ponytail. I also rebelled and dyed my hair pink at one point and turquoise a different time. (Un)fortunately I do not have photographic evidence of either of these events. 

7th grade I went with layers. This is about the only picture where they are taken care of, though. I didn't particularly care.

8th grade. The perm. This was done in my grandma's kitchen. I remember that I thought the fumes were going to kill me dead right there. My inspiration for this was my best friend's hair. Tressa has naturally curly hair and I've always thought it was beautiful.

After the perm, I started to keep my hair down more. I began to actually try and take care of it. This led to the obvious next step...

I got sick of trying to do stuff with my hair and just chopped it. This was also the short skinny phase of my teenage years, right at the beginning of my freshman year of high school, so this just got my hair out of the way for being athletic.

After I began to gain the weight back and other things happened in my life, I once again decided that I could at least control my hair. I kept this one for two years, until I realized that my brother and I had the exact same hair cut. This was not okay.

By my 16th birthday, I had grown my hair out a little bit and decided that a modern mullet was really fun. I was business in the bangs, organized chaos in the back.

I gradually continued shortening my hair length through the rest of high school. By the time I graduated, I had achieved what I called a "hedgehog" look on the back of my hair.

I continued on with variations of the hedgehog look for a few years out of high school. It was great, except after it got wet, as demonstrated here.

After I really couldn't cut my hair any shorter, I discovered hair dye. It was love at first damage. This was when things started picking up speed in the crazy department.

I figured out that my hair held red really well. If I attempted a normal shade of red, it would come out fire engine red every time. I also decided to grow my hair out.

The first time I moved away from home, I decided I was sick of the red that I could not seem to get rid of. So, I went platinum. I've made better decisions in my life.

As if the bleach wasn't bad enough, by my 20th birthday I had decided that the slight wave in parts of my hair could be coerced to work with me if I only used enough of the right kind of products labeled "for curly hair". I was lying to myself and was only rewarded with straw-like scary scarecrow hair.

My co-workers/ roommates in Jackson Hole decided it was time for an intervention. A few of them got together one day and returned some color to my mane.

The result was a brunette that was lovely, but, as you can tell by my face, I just didn't feel it was "me". 

I spent the next year experimenting with different shades of brunette. 

Slowly, I slipped more red in, going for an auburn look. I was yet to concede that I  did not have curly hair.

Finally, I decided that God is a better artist than I am. He gave me this specific color for a reason. It really does work the best with my skin tone and eye color. So, I dyed it as close to my natural color as I could, and spent the next year growing the colored part out of it. This picture was taken after I made the last major cut to rid myself of the unnatural part of my hair. I then focused on growing it out and keeping it healthy.

My hair is now healthy, long and free of dye. I have really enjoyed playing with it lately and trying out new ways of styling my strawberry blonde locks. Sometimes they turn out the way I plan, like this.

Occasionally it, well, yeah. Really, just look at it.
Occasionally I am reminded that I still have got a whole lot to learn before I go pro.

So, dear Anny, that is the history of my hair. I hope that now you can more fully appreciate how come this picture right here makes me happy.

Any more requests?