In Which I Fell.

Day 31, Friday: A vivid memory


I don't have any memories before this link up.  psych. I do.  I'm glad this ship is sailing though.  Blogging 31 days in a row was rough going.  Don't be surprised if I take like, a week off.

So, a vivid memory, huh? I have lots.  I have been blessed with a great memory.  Just ask Landon.  I remember all the important conversations that he forgets.  I'm not going to kick it back so old school though.  This is a fairly recent memory, only about 41/2 years ago.  It was just a couple months after I had moved out of my parent's house and into my apartment with my four best hooligans.  I believe I've shown you this photo of my first room recently:


notice there at the bottom the cinder blocks my bend is standing on.  Everyone else had their cinder blocks on laying on their side.  But mine was stacked high like that.  I literally needed to get a running start to be able to jump up on my bed.  Anyway.  One day, my roommate and I were just chilling in our room, her side of the room was green and purple and frog themed.  She had key chains and pictures decorating the walls.  She was legit.  She had also lived there longer than me, so she was very settled it.  I was laying on my bed texting someone on my flip phone when I started to balance it on my finger.  And I was all, "Ness, look at how good I'm balancing my phone!" and I think she she through a pillow at me or something that knocked my phone off my hand and made it fall down the crack in between the wall and my bed.

This was where being a stupid 18 year old, I should have just thought things through a little instead of being lazy.  I reached my arm down the crack as far as I could.  I was only a couple inches out of reach by the time I had gotten my arm all the way down there.  I should have just hopped off my bed and crawled underneath.  It would have taken two seconds.  But no, I went the hard way.  In a last stitch effort to reach the phone, I gave my shoulder one last push and that was too much.  The cinder blocks tipped causing me to fall behind my bed and have it come crashing down on top of me.  It made a HUGE crash and I think it even broke a mirror in the fall. I landed on my arm and also on top of a cinder block and knocked the wind out of myself.  All my roommates came running to see what had happened.  All the could see was my bed in a big pile, broken glass and crap every where, but I was no where to be seen.  Now at this point, I couldn't breathe, but also, I was laughing so hard that I wasn't making any noise anyways.  My roommates thought I was dead. I tried to raise my arm up to give the, "I'm ok." signal, but I was so buried, it was to no avail.  I just lay there in the rubble fearing that I might not make it due to lack of oxygen.

They got me unburied and I finally could get air in my lungs again, but still we were laughing so hard we were basically useless.  I put my bed back up on the cinder blocks after that but I just made sure if something fell down there, not to try and get it from on top of the bed.


annnnd curtains to this whole link up.  it's been real. and it's been fun. but it hasn't been real fun.
jk. it has.
sort of.

In Which I Let Go

Day 30, Thursday: React to this term: Letting Go


You really want to know what I think about the term: Letting Go?  Why don't we consult my Pinterest?


I'm to the point where I don't think I can let go anymore. I've completely just cut off things that are breaking my heart.  I'm not ignoring them, I'm still dealing with stuff, but a while back I crossed the breaking point.  And now there isn't anything left to break.  It's time for my to sweep up the shattered pieces of myself and glue 'em back together.  Life comes at you hard.  And it's 24/7.  Often times the things that hurt so bad, the things that are near impossible to let go of? Those are the things that are stitched so tightly in your heart.  They're in your bones and your veins and your blood cells.  It's scary trying to forget and move on, because it feels like you're moving on from yourself.  And that's how I've felt.  But there came a point where I realized that's not what I want my life to be like.  It's not how I want to end up.  It hurt so much, but it felt like something worth fighting for.  There comes the point though, the one past the breaking point where you realize it isn't worth the pain.  Not anymore.  


It's time to be happy.
It's time to stop hurting.
It's time-

time
to 
just
let
go.

In Which I Play My Favorite Tunes

Day 29, Wednesday: Five songs or pieces of music that speak to you or bring back memories. Use Grooveshark or YouTube to include them in the post



1. The Rain Song: brought to you by the first guy I ever loved.  This song takes me back to a time of innocence and real, true, tragic heart break. And it makes me appreciate the love I have today.

2. American Pie: a song that my family only knows the chorus to.  And we sing it over and over.  I on the other hand do know all the lyrics and should it play on my iPod or the radio, I stop what I'm doing to sing every word with Don McLean.

3. Africa: the one song that has a legitimate excuse to have maracas and doesn't.  Another song that requires your full attention through the entire thing.

4. All About Us: Mine and Landon's wedding song. Still plays like a fairy tale through my ear phones.

5.  Gone Gone Gone: I just love this song.  Too early for it to spark memories. Give it time, though.

In Which I Will Visit This Topic Again, But Here is a Little Something

Day 27, Monday: A letter to your readers

Dear Readers,
This is all for you.
It always has been.
I love you all so dearly.
for how you listen.
I found myself lost in words
and you finished my sentence.
When I couldn't accept myself,
I found myself in your acceptance.
This is all for you.
It always has been.
-W
remember when I turned this prompt into a super cheesy spur of the moment lyric? that was fun. 
I think I'll return to this prompt again when this whole link up is over. becaaaaauuse it's Memorial Day and I'm about to go golfing.  And I really do want to express my undying love for you all.  So go have fun today, and we'll talk about this later.

In Which I Talk About Bangs. Again.

Day 26, Sunday: Something you read online. Leave a link and discuss, if you'd like.

Something I read on the internet lately? This:


Landon loves this girl and I showed him a pic of her without bangs and he didn't know who it was.
So it's settled. Bangs are the reason Zoey is who she is.

In Which I Hope She Was Serious

Day 25, Saturday: Something someone told you about yourself that you'll never forget (good or bad)


This is going to sound really, really dumb.  But something that has stuck with me that I will never forget was in 9th grade.  I had some how been elected a Student Body Officer with the rest of the popular kids even though I was not in that elite crowd.  There was this girl in there with me.  Probably the most beautiful girl in the whole school, I'm not kidding.  And I was terrified of her.  She had her friends in office and I had mine, and we only really interacted in big meetings and stuff.  

Now at this time in my life, my cousin had taught me the art of the messy bun.  I had my hair in a messy bun every day.  I'm telling you I ROCKED the messy bun back then.  Whether it was half up or all of my hair, rarely did you see my hair not in a messy bun.  Mostly because my hair is thin and has no body so I hated just wearing it down.  I always needed something giving it life.  But one day, I didn't.  I just straightened it and went on my way.  

When I got to school, I went down to the officer's room for the Advisory period and this girl was standing near the door.  She looked at me for a second, and I smiled even though I felt as though I was shrinking to the size of an ant, and she said to me, "Oh my gosh Whitney, I love how your hair looks when it's down."  I was completely at a loss of what to say except for a meek, "Really? Thank you?" I couldn't believe that not only did the prettiest and most popular girl in school just give me a compliment, but she gave me a compliment on something that I hated about myself.  I wasn't even sure if she was serious, like maybe she was pulling a Regina George on me:



Regardless if she was being serious or not (which I hope she was) that one little sentence she said to me, ended the era of the messy bun. I can't even get my hair to do one anymore! And I really only just wear my hair down now. And I love it that way.  Even though this girl and I never did mesh, or find ourselves in the same circle.  That one nice thing she said will stay with me forever.

In Which I Finally Admit I'm Not Perfect

Day 24, Friday: Your top 3 worst traits

1. I'm indecisive. Just ask Landon when he wants me to pick where we are going for dinner.  But also when it comes to choosing what I'm going to do for the rest of my life.  Right now, asphalt is looking pretty good.

2. I'm inappropriate. Whoops, this goes on the other list.  The 3 BEST traits. Right, Mom? Right??

2. I'm selfish.  Probably yet another reason I'm not ready for babies.

3. I'm needy.  I hate to be alone. And that is hard. Because you guys are my only friends now, and I can't just call you up and be all, "Hey! Let's go get lunch and go to the mall!"  That just doesn't work.  So when Landon isn't home, I'm lonely.  And I am still finding a way to try to deal with it.




In Which I Have Learned Things

Day 23, Thursday: Things you've learned that school won't teach you
1. Forgive. Not necessarily for the one who has hurt you, but for your own heart.
2. Friends come and go, but make sure you always have one you can call crying in the middle of the night.
3. Lighten up. 
4. Read Harry Potter.
5. Get a dog.
6. Say, "I love you" every time you hang up the phone with your loved ones.  Even if you're picking them up and you can see each other and they're about to get in you car. Still say it.
7. Write notes to show you care. 
8. Star gazing really puts things in perspective. 
9. Work hard for your money.  The best feeling is when you feel like you earned it.
10. Smile at strangers.  Be polite when they hold the door open for you and say, "Thank you." Or else they might yell at you. (Alissa.)
11. Never judge someone when you don't know what they are going through.
12. Don't live in the past.  Always look forward.
13. Big Macs are ok every now and then.
14. Go for walks instead of watching tv. Especially if you just ate a Big Mac.
15. Math is stupid. (whoops. learned that one in school.)
16. Love easily.  Don't let heart break hinder your ability to love.
17. Tell the truth.  If you make a mistake, don't try to cover it up. Unless you're Grace Helbig and you're giving yourself bangs because you fell down some stairs because you tripped over your neighbor's dog.
18. Be open to advice.  And if you need help, don't be too proud to ask for it.
19. Your mom is pretty much right. About everything.
20. Let yourself be happy.  With life.
 Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.
-Albus Dumbldore

In Which I'll Never Judge

Day 22, Wednesday: Rant about something. Get up on your soapbox and tell us how you really feel. (a pet peeve, a current event, a controversial topic, something your husband or roommate or neighbor or boss does that really ticks you off)

I am SO not in the mood to rant right now.  I've gotten 12 hours of sleep in the past two nights days and  I just- I don't even know what I want to yell at you guys about.  Or maybe I do.  And I've been letting it build for weeks. Maybe years.  But because I hate confrontation, you'll never hear me talk about it unless you're Landon.

I think I can pretty much just hit it from this angle. I HATE JUDGEY PEOPLE.
Ok? I'll refine it.  People who judge others by their clothes, their hair, their accent, the religion, their sexual orientation, their race, by their favorite restaurant, their opinion on politics, their standing in the BYU/Utah rivalry.  All of it.  Nothing makes my skin crawl more than anyone who will let cruel words leave their lips just because they don't like something about someone that MOST OF THE TIME they don't even know!  And I'm guilty of it.  I've done it, and I still do it, but I hate myself a little more when I realize I do.  And it is something I'm working on to keep out of my life.
  
I dated this guy a while back and we were at the store, and we were with his friends, and he would make a rude remark about nearly every person who walked past us just to get a laugh out of his friends.  I remember I was sick to my STOMACH over it.  They couldn't hear him, he wasn't saying anything to their faces to hurt their feelings or anything, but I remember thinking, WHY DO YOU CARE?!

I'm not saying you have to go around and be everyone's friend and there will be flowers and rainbows and the animals will sing show tunes, no.  But if you don't like the way someone does something, or what someone believes, then just don't look at it. Don't talk to them.  But don't go around dogging their faith or their trends because you have a problem with it.  Just let it go.  It will only make you look like the ugly person and even if you don't think so, it weighs on your heart.
I will ALWAYS be nice to someone who is nice to me.  I will ALWAYS respect someone's way of life if they respect mine.  I will ALWAYS be there for a person if they are there for me.  It's not hard for me that way.  What I do have a hard time with is watching someone saying something unkind for no reason at all.

there. I said it.

In Which We Dig Up My Archives

Day 21, Tuesday: A list of links to your favorite posts in your archives


Ok, so I have spent the last hour literally going through my archives finding my favorite posts.  Because what else am I going to do at 4:31 am while I'm waiting for the oil to burn off my asphalt samples?  I narrowed it down to like, 17 posts.  But, I'm gonna hit you up with the top seven, because I'm going to be surprised if you guys even read any of these.

1. THIS post was the Peep Please from last April where I was officially initiated into Blogland because I had a switchblade and a dinosaur phone in my purse.  My whole world changed after this post. ALSO, for all you fangirls for Landon's facial hair, this post features the legendary MONKEY'S TAIL!

2. THIS post is Shay's favorite.  The one where I get caught next to a dumpster at 2 in the morning without pants on.  Not a high point in my life, but it's nice to know how far I've come.

3. THIS post still blows (ha. pun. you don't get it yet) my mind because of how big the bubbles I blew are.  (Now do you get it?)  Also, I can't believe I was doing this in the library.  No shame.

4. THIS post and THIS post just prove how great my job is.  Between MSHA trainers and pranks we pull on each other, we are always finding a way for entertainment.

5. THIS post about my wedding always makes me happy. That was literally the best day of my life.

6. THIS post has THEE best home movie in it from Christmas of '99.  Where my mom just wants one good still shot of my brother, sister and me be the Christmas tree. It makes me want to strangle 9 year old me.

7. THIS post where I show you the damage of a good old fashioned Facebook hack.  I'm still waiting for the perfect opportunity to get my mom and sister back for that one.

And there you go. If you want my top recommendations of which ones to go to, I would say #2 and #6.  

In Which I Struggle

Day 20, Monday: Get real. Share something you're struggling with right now.

what am I struggling with? How dare she ask me something so personal.  Especially for one who freezes up like a deer blinded by high beams when confronted about my feelings. How dare she.

I'm struggling with a broken and conflicted heart.
I'm afraid that I might break the hearts of others who are so dear to me.
I'm scared to leave, but terrified of staying.  Of not being able to let go and move forward.
I'm struggling with telling you what is ailing my soul.  I just want to be here for you.  I don't want you to see me with tear stained cheeks in case you need me to be strong for you.  I want to be a smile you can count on, even if I can't count on one for me.  Because I'm braver for you than I am for myself.


Is that vague enough?  Good. Because that's another thing I have a hard time with.  Being...not...vague.

In Which I Share My Friends

Day 19, Sunday: Five of your favorite blogs and what you love about them
Here's a list of five people who changed my life:
1. Kayleigh
2. Alissa
3. Shay
4. Jes
5. Kelsey

Maybe they know why they've changed my life, and maybe they don't.  
But I promise you if you take the time to meet them, you're in for a change yourself.

In Which I Might Like Babies...And My Sister.

Day 18, Saturday: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.
Ok, so by now I think you all have figured out how much babies terrify me, right?  And it's nothing personal to any of you mommies out there. It's more of I'M terrified to have babies.  But here is a story from my childhood that may suggest otherwise about my feelings for them.  And also about my sister.  Because when she was born, I wasn't very happy about it.
Mariah was born in June 1995  Here is a photo of us around that time:
My cousin Britt is hold her because I didn't like to.  But one afternoon, my little blonde neighbor came over and wanted to see Mariah.  Again, this bothered me that she wasn't there to see me.  I mean, we were friends first, right?  I was the one with the giant Barbie house and pink Barbie convertible.  All Mariah did was stare at you.  But I took her to see my sister.  I picked her up to hand to blondie and to my motherly instinct's dismay, SHE GRABBED HER BY THE HEAD AND NOT HER BODY!! So for like .5 of a second, my brand new little sister was being held like a toy, and I legitimately feared her head was going to pop off.  I grabbed her back and yelled, "THAT'S NOT HOW YOU'RE 'POSSED TO HOLD HER!" and sent her on her way.  I was a little shook up, and went into the living room where my mom and her friend were talking.  I was about to hand Mariah off to my mom because I didn't want anyone thinking I liked her when my mom's friend says something to the effect of, "I have always wanted a little girl of my own, I think I'm just going to take Mariah to live with me."  

and that was more than I could take at that moment and I started bawling.  My friend almost tore her head off and right after I saved her, she was going to be kidnapped?? I was just a five year old kid, not a super hero.  And then it made my mom cry because it was "cute" or something that I was so upset.  And then her friend started to cry.  Ironically, the new born in the room was the only one not crying.  And who knows because her vocal chords were probably ripped in half when I let blondie get her hands on her.  They let me cry for about 15-20 seconds before they explained to me that my mom's friend wouldn't take her, she'd just come visit more.  I was still pissed.  But I could live with that.  I gave Mariah to my mom, because I was done being the parent for that day.

and there you go. About 17 years later, Mariah became my best friend.  


In Which I Give You My Favorite Photos

Day 17, Friday: A favorite photo of yourself and why

Guess what. I've been awake for 24 hours now.  Probably 26 by the time I post this.  I'm delirious. And I've been sort of live tweeting since midnight. I don't even know what's going on.  So keep that in mind as I show you my favorite photo(s) of myself.  I'm giving you two. because rules are dumb.
first photo: My face after a good long dirt bike ride down in St. George.  Red dirt, clearly.

ridin' dirty. The only way I know how. giggity.

And photo numero dos is just a favorite because it is hilarious.  And completely candid. As in, I don't think we weren't even looking at each other we were talking and our other roommate snapped this shot.  If I am ever sad or lonely, I take out this picture, it makes me giggle every time.

lesbihonest.

ok, breaking rules again.  Because I found this gif three hours ago and completely lost it.  I'm totally punchy right now and in this moment, this is my favorite (moving) picture ever:

 photo funny-gif-disabled-dog-hands_zps859c1a30.gif

I cannot handle this right now.

In Which I Overcome Things

Day 16, Thursday: Something difficult about your "lot in life" and how you're working to overcome it


This is a touchy subject for me.  I feel like I've had a pretty great life you know?  Sure there are ups and downs that have had to be dealt with, but as for permanent problems that I have no control over I don't have many.  But there is one that ailed me for most of my life, and sometimes I still struggle with it.

I'm tall.

I'm really tall. Hit six feet a couple summers ago.  It's not so bad anymore, now that I'm married and Landon's family and his friends are all pretty tall, I hang with a lot of people my size.  But growing up?  It was rough on me.  I was ALWAYS the tallest girl around.

I still tower over all these girls.

I was always the tallest chorus member in all the school plays.

right there. dead center.

I didn't get asked on as many dates as other girls because none of the boys in high school could compete with my height.  Jeans were too short, shirts were too short. I couldn't find cute shoes in size 10.  

and don't get me started about when I moved out of my parent's and into an apartment of midgets.
At all of the dances, parties and social events I just looked like the jolly green giant next to them.  And they were all so cute and teensy.  I felt like a bull in a china shop.  At their weddings, I towered over the bride AND groom.

Remember the guy I say I dated ONLY because he was 6'9? I'm not lying.  I know that sounds shallow and narrow-minded, but I LOVED feeling small next to him.  Where I didn't just have to get on my tippy toes to kiss him, but he actually had to BEND OVER for me.  It was a dream come true. Minus the fact that he was kind of a creep....

There are some really great things about being tall.  I can reach stuff on the top shelves, I can see everything at concerts, I'm good at swimming, I can ride all the roller coasters....but ultimately the one reason I have overcome my lot of being tall is due to Landon.  I remember the first time he and I hung out together by ourselves, we got out of his Bronco and he walked next to me and said, "Wow. You are really tall."  Immediately, I was so ashamed and I tried to slump down a little bit to seem shorter and said, "I know....." He could sense my shame and said, "No, I think it's awesome! I just hadn't noticed it."  I was taken aback by this compliment.  Usually people don't to stand next to me because I make them feel short.  But this guy- this guy thought it was awesome.


And to this day, if you ask Landon was his favorite part about me is, he will tell you:
 "Her boobs and her height."

and that is how I've overcome this lot.
and seen myself with different eyes.
the eyes of someone who can truly love me for things that I've hated about myself.


and I still have to get on my tippy toes to kiss him.

In Which I Take You Through My Day

Day 15, Wednesday: A Day in the life (include photos from throughout your typical day - this could be "a photo an hour" if you'd like)


This post has potential to completely go over your head or bore you to tears because my life has been pretty repetitive here for the last month.  We've been paving a runway out at the air port and it's been a pretty gnarly job.  We are finishing up here this week, though.  So too bad this prompt isn't due next week where I might actually do something other than work.  But who knows. Maybe one day I'll look back on this and remember the good ol' days of testing asphalt and aggregates.

So without further ado, here is a brief overview of what my days consist of:
 

[1] Pop Tarts and a Rockstar.  Nothing kicks your butt into gear like a sugar/caffeine rush.  This does need to be followed up with more at some point in the day.  No time for crashes.

[2]  I work up on the side of a mountain, the view is incredible and I am able to watch the sun rise over the ridge every morning.  It's one of my favorite parts of the day.

[3] When I go out to sample our products we crush, I always keep my eye out for these two geese.  They've been hanging around here for a couple weeks now and they are so. goofy.  They think they own the place.

[4] We get our samples of asphalt from the airport around eleven.  This is the beginning of a few different processes.  

[5] After we get our samples from the field, we usually take that little break while they are being burned in an incinerator at nearly 600 degrees Celsius to get some food-age.  This is a perfect opportunity for another hit of caffeine and sugar.  Kill two birds with one stone and get the Baja Blast Freeze from Taco Bell.  One of the few quality items on that menu....

[6] This is what the asphalt looks like after it's been burned and washed.  This is when I get to divide it up into little piles and measure them.  What I really think this test is measuring is my mental stability.

[7] Another test of the asphalt where I weigh the puck in the air, then put it in the water for four minutes and get the weight on a scale suspended in this diseased tank of water, then dry it off for four seconds and get the weight in the air again. I could try to explain this test and it's purpose more to you, but I probably lost you a long time ago, so we'll just move on ahead to number 8....

[8] If I get home before the moon is up, I like to spread a blanket out on our lawn and just chill under the shade of our pine trees that I love so much.  (Except for when they drip sap all over my windshield and I literally cannot get it off with ANYTHING.)   I did this the other day and caught up on the Office which was a bad idea because I openly wept on my blanket as people walked by.  

[9] Last night I was able to wrap up my evening with a much needed Google Hangout.  This isn't a daily occurrence, but it is a weekly one.  And getting 45 minutes with my friends literally is what my week revolves around.

The rest of the night generally is me making Landon and me quesadillas and then I pass out for the night.  Give me a week and I will be so much more lively. I promise.  Once I'm done with these hours and working 7 days a week.

In Which I Get Happy Again.

Day 14, Tuesday: Ten things that make you really happy


Finally, an easy, light spirited post.
 
In first place, without even a hesitation: 
my soul mate, Landon.  The sole person who turned my universe upside down and had me convinced at the door that I could not live life without him.  And who every day brings a smile to my face by nuzzling my face, tickling my back, and buys me presents just because.


And to follow up I'll take you through 2-10:

[2] Blog Friends: you guys are what gets me through my day.  With all your posts and texts and tweets.  You keeping me laughing every second.
[3] Real life friends: My rock. And the main reason I haven't totally lost my mind.  But also maybe a tiny reason I've lost it a little.
[4] My big brother and little sister: The only two who have been through what I've been through.  The only ones who can take me by the hand and sincerely say, "I know how you feel." 
[5] My crazy animals: probably the only living things on this earth that will love me unconditionally and be completely blind to my faults and insecurities and obnoxiousness.
[6] Snowboarding: the reason I don't have winter anymore.
[7] SCUBA diving: the only situation where I adore fish.
[8] Dirt biking: the reason Landon ever even started to like me.
[9] Traveling: Opening my eyes to this beautiful rock we all share.  
[10] Music: An escape and a release when life has become too much. Whether I am listening to it or playing it, my spirit is cleansed and my mind is cleared.

My life is happy.

In Which I Apologize

Day 13, Monday: Issue a public apology. This can be as funny or as serious or as creative as you want it to be.


"Jenni had us write out apologies to people that we'd hurt in our lives.

Alyssa, I'm sorry I called you a gap-toothed bitch. It's not your fault you're so gap-toothed. Gretchen, I'm sorry I laughed at you that time you got diarrhea at Barnes and Noble. And I'm sorry I told everyone about it and I'm sorry for repeating it now.  Laura, I don't hate you because you're fat. You're fat because I hate you. I just wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school. I wish that I could bake a cake made out of rainbows and smiles, and we'd all eat it and be happy."
 
Done.
 
Ok, I really did write one though. I just couldn't miss the opportunity to quote one of the greatest movies of all time.
 
Dear World:

This is an official apology that goes out to anyone I have ever hurt in my life. At any point. Be it the boy I pushed down in kindergarten and he busted his lip open, or the girl I gossiped about in jr. high because I was insecure about my own faults.  

I am sorry for any pain I have inflicted.

I am sorry for not thinking about my actions or words before I let them hurt you.  In retrospect, I wish I had never let them happen.  

I realize this is a part of growing up.  A learning experience in becoming a decent human and knowing right from wrong and good from bad.  But I am sorry it came at your expense.  

I truly am.

W.

In Which I Get Nostalgic

Day 12, Sunday: What do you miss? (a person, a thing, a place, a time of your life...

I know I whined and cried about being terrified of lake fish a couple days ago.  But today's prompt sent me into a downward spiral of nostalgia when I thought about going to the lake.  Ever since I was four years old, we have had a boat.  And up until two years ago when I started the job I'm in now, I would go boating at least once a week in the summer.  I didn't go at all last year, and only once the year before.  I hadn't really thought about how little I've been in the last couple years. Or maybe, I just don't want to think about it.  Summer is who I am.  My birthday is in July, my skin tans fabulously, I lived for summer my whole life.  And I wish that I cherished it as much as I used to.  But now, all summer means to me is more road construction, hotter temperatures while I'm out sampling our products.  The bees are out,  I need to put sunscreen on so I don't get a hard hat line.... It's just- I don't know.  Summer has lost it's magic I guess.  And that breaks my little sun-kissed heart.
So this is what I miss:
 
Driving the boat

Hitting big ol' waves on the tube


Amost getting trajected into the stratosphere
(1:09 is where the big jump is)


Jumping the wake


And strawberries and cream sunsets with the love of my life as we pull into the marina.


oh, and of course, seeing how many people we can get to stand up on the tube.
I think the record is 11....



Oh, summer. I'm sorry I have forsaken thee.


In Which I Cop Out.

Day 11, Saturday: Sell yourself in 10 words or less




This item is no longer available for purchase.

-Landon

In Which I'M STILL EMBARRASSED.

Day 10, Friday: Most embarrassing moment (s). Spill.


I have been pondering this one for the last few days.  Because I've mentioned before, it's pretty hard for me to get really, legitimately embarrassed.  But I think I finally thought of something.  It was a few years ago, probably 2009 I'm thinking'... 

wait- back story.  the year and a half before I moved out, I worked in a place where country music was not to be played under any circumstances.  So, even though I had loved country my whole life, I went through about a two year dry spell when it came to that genre.

Ok, back to 2009, my roommate was cooking some sort of delicious treat in the kitchen and listening to KBULL 93 on the radio (a popular country station here) while I was laying on the carpet doing homework.  I was caught in between Facebook and math while Gary Allen's "Watching Airplanes" was on the radio. When it ended and I heard in the background, "Be caller 13 now for you chance to win back stage passes and front row tickets to Keith Urban."  I needed a little break from my work/social networking so I thought, meh, why not? I grabbed my cell phone, called the station and what do you know? I was caller #13.  I started to panic a little as they asked me my name and then told me all I had to do was identify which jumbled up Keith Urban song they played for me and the tickets were all mine.  At that point I was really freaking out because I hadn't listened to Keith Urban or ANY country music in TWO YEARS.  The riff began and ended much too quickly and they said, "Alright Whitney, all you have to do is name that Keith Urban song and you're going to meet him backstage!"  

My mind went completely blank.  I stared at my roommate BEGGING her with me eyes for help, but she hadn't heard the bit, she had no idea what was going on.  And I sputtered the first thing that came to my mind, "Uhhh, 'Watching Airplanes?'"  

Silence on the air...."That's not even Keith Urban....That's Gary Allen..... You weren't even a little bit close...."  Their disappointment and shock was so apparent I felt as though they were sitting across the room and just staring at me with their jaw dropped.  And I was humiliated as they hung up on me without even saying bye.  AND THEN it was even worse when it aired 30 seconds later.  And replayed throughout the day. And the week.  I realize I shouldn't be as embarrassed as I am, since no one actually saw me in real life make a fool of myself and all they had to go off of it was my first name. But still, I died a little that day.

Oh, and the song was "You Look Good in my Shirt."

I could have met Keith Urban too....

In Which I Leave You with a Photo.

Day 9, Thursday: A moment in your day (this can be just a photo or both a photo and words)

Finally, a break with all these posts.  I thought this was going to be somewhat easy, but then Miss Jenni decided to make me really think and stuff.  But, here is a picture from my day yesterday afternoon. The air is so clean and crisp this morning after this passed through.

In Which I Give You Advice on Things.


Day 8, Wednesday: A piece of advice you have for others. Anything at all.


Here is goes. Take it or leave it:

Get lost in music.

Let yourself mourn, but don't get lost in heart ache.

Do more than just exist.

Just say no.

Believe in magic.

Replace your divots.

Take walks down memory lane.

Remember who you are and what you stand for.

Apologize when you're wrong, and

Forgive when you're not.

Say, "I love you before you hang up the phone."

Go to plays.

Grow a pair.

Focus on the good.

Learn from the bad.

Pray.

Read.

Don't let the Muggles get ya down.

Try not to be reserved.

Know when to walk away.

Allow yourself to be a beginner.  No one starts off as an expert.

Give kisses.

Stand your ground.

Love desperately.

In Which I Divulge My Greatest Fears.

Day 7, Tuesday: The thing(s) you're most afraid of


I'm going to keep this list simple.  Keep it at my top three. Maybe four.  This is worse than the post about things that make me uncomfortable. Annnnd here we go.

1. Bugs. Spiders. Snails, slugs, grasshoppers, bees- ANYTHING that creeps or crawls.  I cannot deal.  I cannot.  People laugh.  They think it's funny.  But PEOPLE.  This is a legitimate PHOBIA.  My fear of these little creatures completely alters the way I live my life.  It. doesn't. matter. If it can bite me or sting me or do absolutely nothing at all besides tickle my arm or wherever it may land.  It does not matter.  I will scream.  I will flail. I will shake for an hour after with ghost bugs crawling up my legs or on my neck.  This is a SERIOUS. serious problem.  And I'm convinced there is no way I will ever get over it.

2. Police Officers.  This was on my uncomfortable list.  But this also somewhat alters my lifestyle.  As in, ANYTIME I am behind the wheel of a vehicle I am constantly scoping out the road for cops.  I know what gas stations they hang out at, I know all their speed trap hiding places, I know what unmarked vehicles to look out for.  It doesn't matter.  I am always scanning the roads.  I blame this on the whole I can't get away without getting a ticket.  I'm not a brat when the pull me over.  I don't try to flirt my way out.  I don't cry. I don't lie.  I'm completely cooperative.  No, let me rephrase that.  I'm completely terrified.  And still, they cite me.  I haven't been pulled over in about three years now, but that doesn't mean I'm not scared.

3.  Fish.  Lake fish to be exact.  I can scuba dive with sharks and eels and rays and octopus all day long.  But you put in a lake to wake board and I know that there are carp and tiger muskies and trout swimming around down there and I can't see them?  It's about all I can take.  The only way I can deal with that is by singing, "Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens, mmmrrphrrphrr wool something mittens.  Brown paper packages tied up with string.  These are a few of my favorite things."  And that is all I know of that song.  So I sing it over and over while I sit there in the water praying to all that is HOLY that something doesn't brush up against my leg.  Because that happens.  And I just. can't. deal.  But my love for wake boarding apparently heavily out weighs my fear.  This is a perfect example of  a love-hate relationship.  And here is what it looks like when someone is experiencing such phenomena:



Strained but sincere smile, intensely shrugged shoulders, probably ridiculously high frequency squeaks.  It's all there.  

and there you have it.  My top three fears.  I hope that you understand the severity of these fears by my overuse of caps and italicized letters.  

In Which I Tell You What I Really Do.

Day 6, Monday: If you couldn't answer with your job, how would you answer the question, 'what do you do'?

I would actually prefer to answer this question by not saying, "I test asphalt."  Not that I don't like my job, but it usually leads to a strange look with me following with an elaborate explanation that results in an eyes-glazed-over-head-nod response.
So go ahead, ask me what I do.
I'm assuming you just asked.
Well, let me tell you.  I wake up before the sun. I write my own story and put it on the internet for the world to see. I day dream. I play music. I sing. I smile. In the summer I wake board, in the winter I snow board and anytime of the year I'll indoor surf.  I ride motorcycles with the wind. I'll lay in the grass any chance I get.  I curse when I get hurt, I cry too.  I don't like to fight, but I'll stand my ground when it comes too defending my family. I travel. I play with poetry, but I don't like to share it.  I'm shy when it comes to that stuff. I talk.  Probably more than I should, but unless someone tells me to shut up, I'll keep going.  I paint my nails and write in cursive.  I pray when I'm trouble, and I pray when I'm thankful, but I still think I could pray a little more. 
oh. and I love.
and that is what I do.  It's probably just as long of an explanation of my real job...I like this better though.
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