Flashback Friday - Children of the 90's

Flashback Friday is back this week. This however is a picture of a picture…er, picture cut out. Back on my post When Men Decorate, my cousin Jordan and his wife Julie commented that they would like to see this picture as a Flashback. A fabulous suggestion, I must say. So, without further ado, I give you the Harris Kids of 1990.

I think this picture was taken at the mall – at one of those kiosks that everyone can see what is going on. I think I was embarrassed that I was being subjected to taking a family picture in the middle of the mall, where everyone could see me. My life was very difficult back then.

I think my mom let us, and by us I mean me and Hailey, choose our own outfits. I think there might have been a fight between Hailey and I on the turtlenecks we wore. Who really knows though? Hailey and I fought a lot when we were growing up and so I just figure that any sort of family event like this must have been accompanied with a sisterly quarrel.

I love the bow in Hailey’s hair. I am sure my mom made it too. She is quite the craftswoman and made us all types of bows. I had a whole collection. I guess a bow didn’t go with my washed out perm and big bangs that day. Gotta love the 90s.

There really isn’t anything fun to say about Austin and Alex. They just look cute.

Anyway, this picture is displayed in my parent’s family room for all to see. Stop by sometime and see it in person. The cut out version gives is something special, don't you think?

It's what true friends do...

Dear Amanda,
Thank you for this lovely e-card. It surely made my day. There is nothing like being reminded that my severance was short lived and that I was pretty much screwed. It takes real talent to kick someone when they are down. Actually, it doesn't take talent, just having no conscious at all will do it. And you my friend, are the Queen Bee. And that is why we are friends. Thanks for the good laugh. Patrick would be proud.

Love,
Natalie

Big Business

This past weekend I really wanted to watch Big Business. Actually, I had been wanting to watch it for about 3 weeks, now. Don’t ask me why. I think I was reminiscing with Mackenzi and we both decided that this movie epitomized our childhood movie days. Well, that and Dirty Dancing – but we already watched that sometime last week.


I convinced myself that Blockbuster would have this highly acclaimed film. But to my dismay, they did not. Shocked, and very disappointed, I looked for the movie 9 to 5 – another classic favorite of mine. However, I was once again left unsatisfied by the poor selection at Blockbuster. Determined to watch a movie from my glory days, I went for Romeo and Juilet. Who could forget the seven, yes SEVEN, times that I went to see this movie in the theaters??? Or, the time Nicole and I lied to her parents and told them we were going to mall – when in reality we really went to see R&J? Or, the time that the line was too long to buy tickets and the movie was starting – so we (Nicole and I) used my ticket stub from THE NIGHT BEFORE and snuck into the movie? Good memories. So yes, Romeo and Juliet was an excellent choice. BUT to my dismay, both copies of this fantastic film were rented out.

I left Blockbuster distraught. Unwilling to give up on an excellent night of chick flicks, candy, popcorn and a big fat coke – I google text Best Buy in my last attempt to find Big Business. I was willing to drive a good 15 minutes to purchase this film. I was a woman on a mission. And nothing was going to stop me. Well, that was until I found out Best Buy doesn’t even carry it. Well, crap. Mission impossible.

With Big Business completely out of the picture, I called another Blockbuster in hopes that they would have Romeo and Juliet. AND, they did. Amy (new roomie) and I sprinted for the car, made a stop at McDonalds (for Amy – she needed a fountain Diet Coke), were horrified when McDonalds was OUT of DC (WTF?? Can McDonalds really be out of DC?), drove to Blockbuster, rented Romeo and Juliet, were told by the Blockbuster employee that 3 other people had called about R&J, drove home, got in pajamas, took off make up, and finally settled down to watch the classic and sad tale of two, star-crossed lovers take their lives. So sad. Why did I watch that movie 7 times in the theater? Oh, wait. I remember. Leonardo Dicaprio. Nuff’ said.

Big Business will be left for another night, I guess.

Friends, Food and Handsy Men

You know what I love about kids that aren’t mine? I love that I can play with them and be “fun aunt Natalie” and then the second they get fussy, I pass them off to their loving parent. It’s pretty awesome.

This past weekend I brunched it (at Eggs in the City) with 3 of my former co-workers: Diania, Miranda and Amanda. I truly miss working with them and crave the constant banter between office walls. I know they miss me. For I don’t think a day has gone by without one of them im’ing me saying, “work sucks without you.” Yes, ladies. I know I was fun to work with. I know you miss me. But get over it. Move on. I have. I think?!

Anyway, I met up with these fine women on Monday for a little gossip fest, and to eat some food. Because what good is gossiping if you don’t have your face full of food? I made a point to tell Amanda and Diania (a.k.a: D) to bring their tator tots (a.k.a: babies) because I was going through withdrawals and needed to get my baby fix. I feared Amanda would not bring little Patrick because, “he is to handsy”. But, D called me out and said, “Natalie likes handsy men.” And that I do. So Amanda carted little Paddy Poo down for brunch. And handsy he was. The kid wouldn’t sit still. The kid grabbed anything in site: spoons, forks, napkins, sugar dispensers, boobs, hair, sunglasses - you name it. Hell, Amanda is in for one rough ride with him. He’s already grabbing girls boobs and he is only 11 months old.

D brought Finn and the two little boys sat next to each other in their highchairs. I wish Miranda could have gotten a picture of the boys kissing – because they did. But, actually, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t get a picture of it. Because really, it might have been to racey to post that sort of picture on my blog.

These pictures have been stolen off of Miranda's blog...

The boys:

Finn and Patrick

Me, Finn and Amanda:

I wish you could see Finn's awesome shoes in this picture. Cool black and green Converse shoes - too cute!

D and Miranda:

We will brunch again soon.

Hi. My name is Natalie. And I'm an addict.

I once tried to stop drinking coke. It lasted about 6 months. Those were the hardest six months of my life. I stopped drinking it because I had an ulcer and the doctor told me that lying off the coke might help my little stomach heal. It healed, and I went back to drinking coke. And lived happily ever after. Every once and a while I feel like I should stop drinking it. The urge to be all healthy and s*&^ take over any realistic expectation that I might have for myself. I will tell myself that I will only drink a coke if I go out to eat. That seems to only add to the problem because I eat out all the time. I then take a more dramatic approach and say I can only have 2 cokes a week. That usually lasts about 2 days because by the 3rd day of the week, I have already reached my quota and need some of the good stuff.

I finally just started buying the 24 packs at Albertsons and keeping the whole pack in my fridge. Ah, a nice cold coke whenever I need/feel/want one. Seriously, it’s the only way to live. Mackenzi does the same thing. However, she is a diet coke drinker and I, a regular. But whatever, our fridge is big enough to hold 48 cans of pure carbonated, caffeine bliss.

Just last week, both our supplies were running low. We were mistaken to think that we didn’t need to restock our supply and thought that not having it our home would help us with our addictions. We didn’t think this decision through enough because we ended up at the McDonalds down the street more than I can count.

Saturday rolled around and we both knew that we needed coke in our home come Sunday morning. Nothing sounds better than chips, salsa and a big fat coke on a Sunday morning. Kenzi would concur.

We didn’t get home from our nights activity until 12:45 and knew that the only shop open was the Smith’s down the street. And, it was only open until 1. We bolted for the car and made it to Smith’s with minutes remaining. Right as we were about to approach the automatic front doors, a scary homeless man stepped out from behind the huge pillar inches away from us. He just stared at us..didn’t say a word. And to our horror, the doors did not open. There we were, 2 single gals trapped within reach of an unknown scary man. We stood there frozen. Maybe if we didn’t look at him, he would go away.

That lasted about 2 seconds when I turned to him and said, “are they closed?” He said, “No, just try the other door.” And Mackenzi and I ran like we were in a marathon. Ok, not really, we turned abruptly and went through the other doors. However, she grabbed my arm and pinched so hard I am sure I have a nice pretty mark now. We didn’t leave each others sides the entire time we were in the store.

We got our cokes, a few things for our Sunday dinners and were safely back in the car in 5 minutes. The things we’d do for a coke ceases to amaze me. Come Sunday morning, that coke couldn’t have tasted any better.

I got 4 Valentine's... top that!

It's Valentine's Day. Pretty much the lamest holiday of the year. No, my opinion is not that way because I don't have my own sweetheart to spend the day with - I just think it is lame all around. It makes us single people aware that yes, in fact we are single. And it makes the people who are in a couple feel like they have to do something special for their significant other. When in reality, do we really need a day to do something special for a significant other? Lame I tell you.

With that said, I actually am very happy that today is Valentine's Day. Why, after saying that I think Valentine's Day is lame would I actually like the day? Well, it's because of three boys. Justin, Adam and Steve. Three of my best friends that truly could put a smile on any girls face.


Late last night we had a knock at our door. To our surprise it was Justin and Steve with a little Valentine. Red roses for the ladies - each with our own card.

This is about the ugliest picture I will ever post on my blog. I guess I thought it was safe to take my makeup off and put on my pajamas at 11:00 pm. I was mistaken.

I believe my card was the best. Apparently, each of the boys have a "prude list". And for some reason, I am #1 on all their lists. They say that I set a new record by simultaneously being #1 on 4 different lists. They give no explanation of what I did (or didn't do) to make #1, or will they give me any feedback on how I can be removed from the list. I find it hilarious.

Kenzi's card makes me laugh too. Hers specified that the rose was from Justin, Adam, and Steve. NOT SAMMY.

Kenzi has somehow managed to stay off the prude list. But it looks like her ranking could change according to her card:

I love my friends. And, I actually think this is better than having an actual Valentine to spend the day with.

p.s. I also got a plate of cookies delievered on my step from a "secret valentine". However, this secret Valentine should have disguised her handwriting... :) Thanks lady!

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my dad’s birthday so I thought it only appropriate to dedicate this post to him. Over the years, it has become quite apparent that I am almost exactly like my dad. From a young age, people always called me Kimette. Apparently I look like him. I never saw the resemblance until I moved to DC for 4 months. One day I was looking at a family picture and I finally saw what everyone was talking about. I am Kimette.

My dad is pretty much the best dad in the world. He has always supported me with every decision I have ever made, always made me feel good about myself, and most importantly, blessed me with a dad that I know I could turn to when things got rough. Cheesy moment: He has always been a worthy priesthood holder and I couldn’t ask for a better gift to me than that.

My dad went to countless dance performances of mine, to which I am sure he wanted to kill himself during. He taught me how to golf – and also, that the golf course is where all the men are ;) He instilled in me an acute awareness of time. I am now chronically 15 minutes early to everything. To this day, I still don’t understand late people. If you are one of them, shame on you. Take a promptness lesson from my dad.

I inherited many traits from my dad as well. Let me list a few of them… some are good… some are bad. But all are what make me part of him:

#1 Lack of patience (not good).
#2 A good sense of direction (good). You better believe that if you go on a vacation with me, you will be taken care of. I don’t follow around like a lost puppy.
#3 An active mind that thinks everything through (good)… and sometimes (bad)
#4 The knowledge that you should always back your car into the parking spot at any sort of sporting event. (good).


Happy Birthday Dad! I love you!

I'll throw my own shower...

Sorry there was no flashback post last week. Since I don't have a regular computer to do my blog posts on, my flashbacks might be few and far between for a while.

On to more important things.

So this past weekend I almost went to Sun Valley with a group of friend to go snowboarding and just have a weekend away. Now, I dont ski. I don't snowboard. I pretty much don't like snow. So, my main reason for wanting to go was so that I could blog about it. Pretty expensive blog entry if you ask me.

I ended up making a last minute decision not to go because of rental property stuff I had to do and thought that I should be a responsible adult for once. Blast... I wish i was 10 again where my only cares in the world were who's friends house I was going to sleep over at on Friday night.

So, with my weekend plans cancelled last minute, I had Friday and Saturday nights staring me in the face. Reminding me that no, I didn't have a date either night and that I would have to come up with something quick to occupy my time before I fell into a self-loathing state.

Friday I bared the elements, and by elements I mean leaving my comfy couch, to go to a party. Now, I hate parties. I do. They are the one thing in this world that really make me wish I wasn't single. Now, I actually like being single. Don't get me wrong, there are days that I wish I didn't have to deal with the crap that comes along with dating and just wish I could pick someone already. But in reality, life as a single person is quite nice.

Ok, whatever. I went a party. Ran into a guy that I went out with once and it was sufficiently awkward because we both forgot each others names. At least we could admit that to each other. We had a good laugh. I told him I cried for weeks after he didn't call me after our date. I love making other people uncomfortable. It makes me giggle.

Saturday night rolled around and I hadn't showered for the day. A great Saturday if you ask me. Kenzi and I were about to call it a girls night, when I heard from our friend Adam informing us of that he and some others were going to get massages and then go hot tubbing at his house. Done and done. We were in.

Adam is a massage fiend. He buys packages in bulk at the Utah College of Massage Therapy and so an hour massage is only $12.50. My massage was great. Mackenzi wasn't so lucky. Her massage therapist told her that he was going to work her peck muscles. And that he "would be touching places. But don't worry, it is normal." I wish I could have seen her face at that moment. Sheer terror, I am sure.

Hot tubbing at Adam's house followed and by 1:30, I was about to slip into a coma. It was time to go home. I got in my car and looked in my review and this is what I saw:

What????? I got married? To whom? Why don't I remember this? And why am I going home by myself? No big party? No fru fru wedding dress? No presents? No hot man to go to bed with?Crap. I got jipped.

From the looks of my car, my weekend was a success. I think I should go register or something. I am thinking Banana Republic, Anthropologie and Nordstrom.

It's cold. It's winter. It's still fun.... surprisingly

Last night I seriously considered applying for jobs in California, Phoenix and Florida. Pretty much any place that is consistantly warm. Why would I think such a thing? It is only because I chose to stand outside for 2 hours watching the freestyle moguls competition up at Deer Valley. I could only remember two other times I have been that cold.

1. Medals Plaza during the 2002 Olympics. I remember I almost would rather hang out in the port-o-potties (the new, unused ones by the way) because they shielded the wind and cold.

2. NYC Valentine's Day 2003. A bone chilling 20 degrees is not the time to be walking around in the concrete jungle of NYC.

Even though I was very cold last night, I still had a blast. A group of us went up for a fun night in Park City. Here are a few pictures from the evening:

From L to R: Sarah, Kyle, Amy, Jake, Dave and me

And what would a night in Park City be, if we didn't see a typical PCS (Park City Snob) in her full length, fur coat? And yes, Amy and Kyle posed just for this picture. Oh and if you are wondering what that big white blur is in front of Amy and Kyle...it is just someones breath. Yes, it was that cold.

My hood was a hot topic of conversation. Kyle said it was hot. A strange man passed by right when Kyle said that and said, 'Yea, hot if you were a rabit!" Everyone laughed. I gave him the bird and called it a day.

Good times were had. I only fell on my butt once. And that was after I climbed the ginormous hill to where the mogul hill was. At least I was wearing snow pants and everyone around me was drunk. So, if anything, people just thought I was drunk. And you know what, maybe I was?

Flashback Friday - If you yell, your in

Ok, so this isn’t going to be a typical flashback post, because this picture was taken only 2 days ago, but whatever. Work with me here.

For all those that know me, or even those that don’t, I am a bleeding red Ute fan. I was brought into this life as a Utah fan, and I will leave this life as a Utah fan -never wavering in my loyalties to them… and cursing all my Utah friends for getting married and leaving me to be surrounded by cougars. It’s tough. However, my cougar friends have only solidified my dislike of the Y and have given me greater love for Utah. And just my luck, I will probably marry a Y fan. Oh, I pray every day that that doesn’t happen. My family would be torn apart and eventually I would probably divorce because of it.

So, my memories as a child consist of attending Utah football and basketball games. They also consist of a very lively dad that would yell and scream and get so into these games that I feared that one day he would have a heart attack and drop dead from the anxiety. For me, watching sports with an overzealous man is totally normal. I now actually find it attractive. Call me crazy, but nothing is more appealing to me that a man yelling at his TV over a bad call or lousy refereeing.

This past Wednesday I went to the Utah vs. Wyoming basketball game with my dad. First of all, going with my dad guarantees that I will get a large coke and treat courtesy of his wallet (#1 reason to go with him). Secondly, it also guarantees me a night of pure entertainment from him. And this game, he was in fine form. Yelling, cursing, and throwing water-bottle caps on the court. For a minute I thought he might charge the court and get taken away by security and then I would be hitch hiking my way home. Ok, I lie, I lie. I would just steal his car and pick him up from jail on my way home.

Ok, he really wasn’t cursing and throwing water-bottles caps on the court. He only swears and throws things when he is on the golf course. I did have a great time, given the crappy loss. Utah games with my dad will always have a special place in my heart. Love ya, Dad. Thanks for the fun memories.