Flashback Friday - My 1st Birthday

Just one picture would not suffice for this Flashback Friday post. Both of these pictures were taken at my 1st birthday party and I chose them both for different reasons. NOTE: I had a phase of intense scrapbooking interest, so a lot of my pictures have the tacky scissor cut outs. Sorry mom. And sorry to myself. What was I thinking?

Obviously, I don't remember a lick of what happened on this day. I was one. Let's remember that. So, anything said in this post is my most educated guess as to what I was thinking at this time. Actually, I probably wasn't thinking anything other than, "oh, pretty presents," or "Yum, big cake."
This leads me into my first thought. Look at my cake. Holy crap. What 1 year old has a cake that big?? It looks like a freaking wedding cake. Two tiered with fresh flowers and everything. All my mom needed to do was add on a miniature bride and groom and I would have been set for life. Since this birthday, my birthday cakes have no where neared this type of creation. I mean, I chose cupcakes for my birthday cake this year. Clearly, I have lowered my expectations and have excepted the fact that no birthday will every compare to my first.

I love this picture:
I like to think that this was probably my reaction when I saw that fantastic birthday cake. My life was awesome! Gosh, I was stylish too. Thanks mom! I love my little jumpsuit outfit, complete with ruffled straps and a cute bow that tied in the middle.

I think I am going to request a replica of this birthday cake on my next birthday. I mean, this past birthday I turned 25 and my insurance lowered by over half. What do I get when I turn 26? Nothing. So, awesome cake it is.

It's Jell-O salad...no..it's Jello-O mush..

For the first time in my young 25 years of existence on this earth, I had the responsibility of having a food assignment for Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't really think much of it until my friend Dave pointed out, "I thought that you only got food assignments if you were married with 2 kids?" I began to question my mother's motives behind giving me the ginormous task (I say literally) of making the Jell-O salad.

(an ideal image of the Jell-O salad I was about to make)

The recipe looked easy enough:
Note: this is off the top of my head.. so the amounts maybe be off
4 cups broken pretzels
1 cup sugar
melted butter
Mix pretzels, sugar and butter and place in 9x13 pan and bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes. Let cool.

8oz. cream cheese
8oz. (0r one regular tub) of whipping cream
1 cup sugar
Mix cream cheese, whipping cream and sugar and spread over cooled pretzel crust.

1 packaged Raspberry or Strawberry Jell-O mix
12oz frozen Raspberries or strawberries
Make Jell-O. Let cool. Mix in frozen fruit and pour over cream cheese and let settle for 4 hours.

Easy, right? Wrong. Ok, well, maybe it was easy. Apparently I just can't read. I made the crust and cream cheese/whip cream layer flawlessly. Then came the Jell-O. I made it, but didn't let it cool and I poured it over the cream cheese layer. I looked at my creation and smiled at myself thinking, "I am awesome!" I turned around to my fridge to move stuff around so I could fit my beautiful creation in to settle. And when I turned around I saw a horrific sight. The Jell-O had sunk through the layer of cream cheese AND pretzels and was now settling on the bottom of the dish. WTF? Did that really just happen? Did I mess up a Jell-O dish?? Clearly, I should not be held responsible for bringing any sort of dish to a family dinner. I think I first need a few years experience on a poor, unsuspecting husband.

Whatever. I decided later that night that I couldn't serve up some disgusting dish, so I went to the store at 12:30 am and purchased new ingredients. However, this time I let the Jell-O cool before I poured it over the top of the cream cheese layer.

And wa-la, the Jell-O salad turned out. Unfortunately, I was so distraught over this Jell-O mishap, that I didn't take any pictures...I'm kicking myself now. It would have made for an excellent blog picture.

Flashback Friday - Newport Beach 1990

Now this is hot stuff! Eight year old Natalie; in a racy swimsuit; with wet beach tossed spiral permed hair; posed in a sultry stance; totally knowing that her picture was being taken and more than likely loving it. Ideally, the best Flashback Friday picture yet.

This picture brings back some great memories of my families trip to SoCal. I remember spending a day on Newport Beach and playing in the ocean. Seriously, I thought I was looking hot in my almost two piece - in which I clearly demonstrate in this pose:

Why are these swimsuits not in fashion any more? You get the best of both worlds: #1 you get a tan stomach and #2 there is no risk of losing your top or bottom with a huge wave. I am sure some catalog like Victoria's Secret would offer a swimsuit like this now. I should check that out.

I also was a huge advocate of the spiral perm. When I turned 8 I was allowed to perm my hair. With my birthday being in the summer, July 21st to be exact (mark your calendars now), my hair was chuck full of chlorine and when I went to get my hair permed, the salon wouldn't do it. 10 to 1 I cried. So, my mom did the next best thing... she took me up to our neighbor, Betty Petterson. The kids in the neighborhood called her "Brown Betty" - mainly because she had a tanning bed in her basement and literally, was the color of a brown leather bag. Anyway, BB also did hair.. and apparently didn't have an restrictions on who's hair she would and would not do.

This might be the only time that I EVER post a picture of myself in a swimsuit on the Internet. Just letting it be known.

My cave.. oh I mean office

I spend more time at work that I do my own family. It's true. I would rather it be the other way around, but work is a natural part of life. Well, at least my life. I like to buy things. And since I like to buy things, I have to work. It's a vicious cycle. But, I didn't want to live off my parents forever. Therefore, work became a necessary evil.

With that said, do you ever wondered where people work? Or at least wondered what other people's work looks like? I wonder about other people's work all the time. I mean, we all leave each other for at least 9 hours everyday to go to a mysterious place that no one really ever sees. We talk to each other about our crazy co-workers, but it's almost like those in the working world lead two separate lives. 1 at work and 1 at home. I find it fascinating.

I work in advertising. This information is for all of those who don't know me all that well, but blog stalk me and think that you really know me just by reading my blog. Whatever. I do account management. In lamen terms, that means I talk to the clients and then boss our creative team around. It works out well for me. I guess I just like telling people what to do.

Just yesterday I was in my Creative Directors office looking at an ad he was creating for one of the accounts I work on. I didn't like the font of the headline and so I told him to please change it. He said he had the perfect font and said, "How does "Critter" work for you?" (for those not familiar with font types, "critter" assigns a different bug, insect or small creeping "critter" to each letter of the alphabet... thus creating a visually appealing graphic.) And so he changed it to the "critter" font. It gave me a good laugh.

And today he surprised me with my very own name plate (and by name place I mean a piece of paper with my name printed on it) with my name in the "critter" font. Looks totally professional... don't you think?!

THIS JUST IN: overheard by my office neighbor, Amanda:
"Gosh, Natalie gets a new chair AND a name plate?"

Clearly, I am a favored employee. Don't even get Amanda started on the chairs in the office. According to her, she still has a "pee chair" and she secretly harbors hard feelings for me for getting a new chair before her. Office drama at it's finest.

Anyway, this is where I work:




And this is how I made friends at work:


The traffic flow in my office depends on two things. 1) The quantity of candy I have stocked in my candy jar and 2) The quantity of candy I have stocked in my candy jar. And I thought people came in my office because they liked me :(

And we came back smelling like boy...

My co-worker Miranda had the brilliant idea of going to the golf range on our lunch break to hit a bucket of golf balls. Now, she came up with this idea probably back in June. We would say to each other, "We need to go" But we never did. Until last week.



Who would have thought that golfing in the middle of November could be so pleasant? Clearly, we were the talk of the town (and by town I mean small golf community that was Nibley Golf Course). I mean, we were pretty much the only women in a 2 mile radius. Odds in our favor. But wait, Miranda is married... so AWESOME... odds definitely in my favor.


However, the only guy I talked to was some middle aged man. I asked him to take our picture. I might know where to find the men, I just don't talk to the right ones. Note to self: ask cute, single, available, tall, brown haired, brown eyed, athletic, nice, normal guy to take my picture next time. Unfortunately, I saw no such guy.

Miranda's post of this great event is much better. Check it out here.

Flashback Friday - Bear Lake circa 1987

Oh, this picture is classic on so many levels I find myself short of words. This picture pretty much sums up my childhood summers. Bear Lake was, and still is, a family tradition during the summer.Now, I don't necessarily remember taking this picture, but it might be easier for me to list all the great things I notice...

1. My mom's has a sweet FemMullet. I don't doubt that my mom was the epitome of hip and cool and one of those young mom's that people ogled over. But now, I can forever make fun of my mom for actually having a mullet.

2. My dad's sunglasses. My dad clearly exuded style and class as he sported these sweet shades. I am guessing he had the matching florescent green "chums" that were hanging down the back of his neck.

3. Why is my brother (Austin) in front of Hailey? Shouldn't the little one year old be in front of my mother where she could hold on to him and prevent him from falling over the edge of the surf board?

4. I love Hailey's face. She looks pissed for some reason.

5. Why do I have the paddle? I am 5 years old in the picture... I highly doubt my strength could propel us a mere 2 feet. I am pretty sure Hailey and I had a fight over who got to paddle. That's how we rolled back then.

I love my hair in this picture too. I think this might have been the phase where I thought it was really attractive to part my bangs in the middle. Gosh, if I had only had the foresight to see that 20 years from then, I would be extremely embarrassed.... much like my mom probably is now with her mullet.

I'll try to convince my family to take a similar picture this next summer... then I can compare and contrast.

Wait...I'll get my pepper spray.

Now, I think I have a fairly good sense of humor. I don't think I take things too seriously and I can laugh at most things that might seem a little off color. However, I will now tell you a disturbing tale of mystery, fright and most of all freaking annoyance.

Last night at around 10:45 I decided to get ready for bed. April and I were the only ones home and she was already in her room (which by the way, is at the front of the house - important fact for this story). When all of a sudden I hear someone on our porch. I freeze in place trying to hear if it is Brooke or Mackenzi trying to get in. But no. All I hear is rustling and all of a sudden, April flings open her door and says, "I hear someone in the bushes." Now, you can only imagine the horror that two singles girls feel as their imaginations run wild as they picture some freak breaking into their house.

We both stood there frozen listening to what was going on outside. There was a loud bang at the door and we ran into April's room and locked the door behind us. April, having already taken out her contacts, couldn't see for s*^#. So, we creep over to the window and we see a guy dressed in dark sweats and a hoodie pulled over his head. He is ripping open our bags of leaves and running up to our porch.

April and I stand frozen peering through the blinds. The Ass outside our house (and yes, I capitalize the word Ass because it is what I have now named this unknown man) looks up and sees me. He continues to rip open one more bag and run up to our door. It was too dark outside for me to identify who he was. And again, April pretty much couldn't see anything.

I get a unknown serge of courage and decide I am going to open our front door and chase the Ass off. I opened the door and found this:



Are you effin' kidding me? Ok, yes, at first we might have laughed and took some pictures for the blog, but when reality set in and we discovered that our entire yard had been trashed - it is then that I became pissed... and scared.

We only saw one guy. One single guy!!! Who would do that? Was it a total stranger? Or was it one of our friends? And if it was one of our friends, he certainly isn't my friend anymore. Toilet papering I can handle. Fireworks and I handle. Stupid pranks are more than likely very funny. But when you scare two innocent girls and trash their yard - that is when it isn't funny. So, if you are the Ass that trashed our yard, consider yourself warned. I am not scared to use my pepper spray (which I will buy at Home Depot today).

Oh, and side note: Our poor little neighbor heard all this commotion and called the police. They showed up 10 minutes after the guy ran off.

eHarmony is not for me....

I would like to dedicate this post to my dear grandmother, Jinny. I call her Jinny. Not Grandma. Not Nana. Not whatever people call their grandmothers. I call her by her first name. When my sister was born, Jinny was much to young to be considered a "grandma" - so she insisted on us calling her by her first name. I like it.

I saw her yesterday and the first thing she said to me was, "when are you going to post something new on your blog? I keep checking and checking." Confused because it had only been 2.5 days since my last post, I asked her if she had seen my "Flashback Friday". "Oh yes," she said, "but still!"

Jinny is the best grandma someone could ask for. She is always deeply concerned about my well being and always wants me to be happy. Just the other day she brought up the fact that she really thinks I should join eHarmony dot com. Clearly, this must bring happiness because this might have been about the 50th time she has encouraged me to join. And each time I politely decline. Her rationale is always, "but the commericals say it works. AND, it's a complete personality test and they pair you up with someone that matches yours." Again, I say I am not interested. I don't doubt the greatest that can be internet dating. I have two friends that met their husbands over the internet. Really, it's just not for me. At least, right now.

I almost miss the days where Jinny would send me newspaper clippings about dating with certain sentences highlighted. I once received a story that had a line highlighted (courtest of Jinny) that read something like: "After years and years of dating, Jill, at the age of 42 eventually found the man of her dreams." I say to that, "Good, I have at LEAST 17 more years until I become one of those women that people write about in the newspaper as if to say, 'OMG, she FINALLY got married.'"

Thanks Jinny for always looking out for me. Your newspaper clippings do inspire me - as do your persistence in joining eHarmony. If anything, they make me laugh and give me a good story to blog about.

For now, I am perfectly happy as a single person. Right now, the happiness that a man could bring to me would be the happiness of knowing I have someone to clean up the mice that I find in my house.

Flashback Friday - Spring Ballet Performance "Thumbalina" 1996

I took ballet for 8 years. My first ballet class was when I was in 3rd grade. I had gone to The Nutcracker with my mom and had seen a family friend play the role as one of the party girls. From that point on, I became obsessed with becoming a professional ballet dancer. Clearly, this dream did not come to fruition - mainly because by the time I was 15, my ballet schedule was interfering with my social schedule. Friends and boys clearly were more important than my life long dream of becoming a ballerina.


Anyway, this picture was taken after the last performance of Thumbalina with Children's Ballet Theater (CBT). My BFF Nicole (shown in the picture) and I were inseparable. We had decided that at the mature age of 14, our ballet careers at CBT had reached it's climax and we were off to bigger and better things. Ballet West Conservatory. Or, otherwise known as my careers' demise - but that is clearly another story.

My ego had soared to such a toxic level that I thought I was one of the best dancers at CBT. I mean, I was in 3 different dances during this performance. An unheard of number at the time. Gosh, the cover of the program should have read:

Thumbalina
Starring
Natalie Harris
Top Ballerina of 1996

What I remember most about this performance was the costumes. We were all very concerned about the low cut leotards and the fact that our cleavage would show. Yes, I said cleavage. Apparently I had some at 14. Or, I just thougt I did. Whatever. It was a grave concern. However, no ones boobs felt out during the performance and I went away happy knowing that my last dance with CBT went well.

Two years after this picture was taken, my ballet career ended. I am still sad to this day that I no longer dance and/or feel the rush of adrenaline as the stage curtain opens and the music begins. I heart ballet.

Ok, maybe I need man...

I physically can't go in my kitchen. The thought of it makes me want to hurl and run for the nearest bathroom. My love for all things food will be put on hold until we get a nice male to come and clean up an unsightly scene in our kitchen. What could possibly be so terrifying, so foul, so unpleasant that Natalie, yes, Natalie would consider starving herself?

It's this:

For the record, I did NOT take this picture - nor did any of my roommates. That is the beauty for google image my friend.

Yes, we have a mouse in the house. It has been up for debate for about a week now whether or not this creature was residing in our home. Brooke had thought she had seen it about a week ago. However, lack of substantial evidence made me, Kenzi and April doubt it's existence - and also question Brooke's sanity (kidding).

A couple of days ago we discovered our first clue that we had an unwanted tenant. A cookie wrapped in plastic wrap sat on our counter overnight. In the morning, the plastic wrap had been chewed through - by something very small. Still, this one clue didn't fully convince us that this mouse existed.

Until yesterday morning when April turned on the kitchen light and saw a small mouse dart across our counter and scurry down behind the stove. Immediate action would be required. Brooke purchased a mouse trap:

Mackenzi chlorox beached the counters and all surfaces of our kitchen:

We named him Gus and welcomed him to met his death:

We chose to place the trap by the fridge. Brooke's first sighing of Gus was running behind the fridge. We thought it would be the appropriate place to find him.

I tossed and turned last night afraid of the scene that I would most definitely wake up to this morning. And sure enough, this morning, there was a dead mouse trapped by the mouse trap lying on the floor. SICK!

So, I need a man to come clean him up. Who wants to volunteer their husband?

Kristine's Wedding

Disclaimer: I take a lot of pictures. I have thought about taking a photography class and buying an expensive camera.. but have just never done it. So, bare with me as I post my favorite pictures from Kristine's wedding...

This past weekend was my friend Kristine's wedding. It was absolutely beautiful and it was so much fun!


Thursday night was the wedding dinner at The Paris - a quaint little restaurant on 15th and 15th. We had hor' dourvs (sp?) and mingling, then on to a 3 course dinner and then a small program. I was a bridesmaid and didn't know that I needed to give a short little speech on Kristine. My fear realized. Standing in front of 85 people I barely know having to give a speech. Luckily, Brooke and I decided to give a little poem together and it made it less frightening.


Kris and Jake looked so happy and so excited to get married. It was a great party and started the wedding weekend off with a kick.



I wish I could say that this was Kristine's and Jake's reaction to the awesome (I say sarcastically) speech Brooke and I gave - but I think this was taken when her brother Jason burst into song as he gave his speech:


Friday was a perfect fall day to get married. There was a crisp chill in the air, but it was just perfect. Kristine looked absolutely beautiful! Here are a few pictures from the temple:







Their reception was at La Caille and it was such a party!

This was the reception as it was begin set up:


Her centerpieces were beautiful:



The food was AMAZING!

I gorged on chocolate desserts the entire evening:





Congrats Kristine and Jake! Thanks for letting me be apart of your wedding!

Flashback Friday - 1st Day of Fourth Grade

Oh, how I was so excited to wear this awesome outfit. I probably laid it out the night before with anticipation of the new school year. Who knew that shoulder pads were "in" when I was in elementary school?? Well this was 1991 - so I guess it should be expected. This was also the first year that I wore glasses. These too I thought were hip and stylist. And again, maybe they were back then.

Please note the discoloration of my hair. Half of it is a blonde, chlorine bleach look and the other is the brunette in me trying to come out. After a summer spent at the local neighborhood pool (Famingo Hills - another entry in and of itself), my hair had no chance at being healthy. Plus, I had the awesome bangs.

I sat on the rock in front of my house (obviously you can't see it in this picture) for most of my "first day of school" pictures. Thanks mom for documenting my childhood so well.

Happy Halloween

Can you believe this costume came in 2nd in a "group costume contest" to 4 hot guys dressed as Top Gun? Goes to show, sex sells. We should have shown more skin.

Happy Halloween... one day late.