Some things should be left a mystery. Things like when I need to use the restroom

I just spent the last 4 days telling my family when I needed to poop. So clearly, I have been a little out of it. I was in Lake Powell. By the way, I pronounce Powell as it is spelled. Not "Pal". That is a major annoyance of mine (among many many others) that I just wanted to clear up.

Anyway, I'm not going to blog about "how much fun it was" or "how I totally needed a vacay" - because no one really cares. And really, try as I may, I can't really make any of that interesting enough for you to want to read about.

However, I will post a picture of me in my fabulous big black hat (see below). I bought this in Huntington Beach last month with the sole purpose of looking like a total B when I wear it. I love it. And although you can't see my face, I still thinks it makes me look like an uber B.


Believe it or not, I am still in the middle of The Great Bedroom Relocation of 2009 and will post when I am completely moved and in my "new space".

For now, I am just happy I don't have to tell my dad when he needs to take me to the bathroom.*

*We camp in Lake Powell. Which means if I have some business to take care of, it requires me to be driven to the closest floating toilet. It's totally inconvenient and I dread the day I bring a boyfriend to Lake Powell and he has to hear me say I have to poop.

Priorities that I can align with

Recently, my roommate Nicole introduced me to something called Crystal Light Energy Mix. She blogged about it here and I can't possibly make a funnier post than she did, so I'll let you read about it there. Nicole and I used to have our rooms right next to each other, which has recently changed and which I will post about shortly. Said post will be known as The Great Bedroom Relocation of 2009. Anyway, neither Nicole or I are "morning" people. I would often hear her alarm go off in the morning and lay there and wonder if I sleep 10 more minutes, will I beat her into the shower?

And then I would realize that maybe I wouldn't shower at all and just put on extra deodorant and perfume and call it a day. My laziness is apparent.

So after Nicole raved about this energy mix she found, I figured I had to try it. Thank you Nicole, but I will not longer be needing assistance in the drink department. Because the day that I tried this little mix, I was wide awake until 3 am. I guess I will have to suffer through my tiredness and try and get more sleep. I'm really thinking I need a good 8 hours of sleep a night to function at a normal level during the day. Just normal. Let's not get that confused with what 10 hours of sleep could do to me. I actually don't even know. I don't remember the last time I got that much sleep.

Anyway, Nicole and I discussed our new plan of getting more sleep and I thought she was on board with our new must-have-at-least-eight-hours-of-sleep plan but apparently, she's thought of a new one. Because when she was asked if she was ready to go back to work after a much anticipated lunch break she replied:

"I need a nap, a massage and a good makeout before I could possibly go back to work".

She's a wise friend, that Nicole. She's got her priorities in the right place. So, maybe 8 hours of sleep isn't the best plan. Maybe all I need is a nap, a massage....and a makeout.

Thanks for staying single, you've helped us buy a timeshare

The other day my parents told me they bought into a timeshare. I liked this idea and started planning all our future family trips in my head. Of course, this included me paying for nothing and my parents paying for everything. Life as it should be. I should learn to capitalize on my parents assets. Why I feel the need to be so independent has escaped me. I might consider moving back home.

As I was daydreaming of weeks spent on the beach in Maui, the following conversation brought me back to reality:

Mom: Just don't get married anytime soon.
Me: Why?
Mom: Becuase we spent your wedding money on the timeshare.
Me: (blank stare)
Mom: (smiles)
Me: You've really lost all hope for me. Thanks.

So friends, if I elope one day you will know why.

Lastly, after further talks about sleeping arrangements in said timeshare, I learned that even though there are 6 queen beds in it, I still end up sleeping on the pull out couch in the family room. Married couples apparently get their own room with 2 beds. As a single person, I am completely offended. I am totally being punished for not being married. Yet, my parents won't pay for my wedding. This is madness!

Please...tell me if you think I am being totally unrealistic to assume that on a family vacation, sharing rooms is normal. Of course, I think I am right. So please agree with me. And if you don't, well, then I'll just delete your comment.

Love,
Natalie

p.s. I actually would like to know how other families handle this type of situation. Married couples are new to the Harris household - we need some guidelines.

Vanity has it's price. And that price is $80

In my quest to become a low maintenance gal, I was forced to make a very high maintenance decision. Vanity or Vision. You can totally see my mind turning over with this internal struggle of "do I want to look good?" or "do I want to be able to see?" Clearly, a very difficult decision.

I have wanted to get my eye liner tattooed on for a good 3 years. But surprisingly I have always found a better way to spend $350. Plus, I may or may not have had a very expensive eye surgery 4 years ago which involved general anesthesia, 9 stitches in my eye and a metal eye patch that I had to wear to sleep for a month. Yes, only to sleep in. FOR SURE I would have blogged about this experience already if I had to walk around SLC with a metal eye patch taped to my face. That would have been a good story.

Anyway. So since I had this little eye surgery I figured I should call my eye doctor to make sure I could actually needlepoint ink onto my eyelid without ruining the previous surgery. Sounds totally safe to me. When I first called my doctor's office Nurse Know-It-All was all, "OH NO! He will strongly discourage this procedure." This was not the response that I wanted to hear. And so I was all, "Really? But what if I am really careful?" Oh sure Natalie, try and convince the nurse. Not going to work. I had to work on the doctor. Get him to see my side. Yes, that is what I would do.

I insisted to talk to the doctor myself. So when he called when I was in the middle of the meeting, I excused myself because my vanity was on the line. Or wait, my vision. Not sure which. But this was important.

And guess what, he told me it was perfect ok to have the procedure. Kiss it, Nurse Know-It-All! I can have my cake and eat it too. It was a good day.

What wasn't a good day was Saturday, the day after my procedure. I decided to document my recovery via Photobooth on my Mac. Maybe not the best avenue to take close up pictures - but i feel it really exposes the ridiculousness of the situation.

(Saturday morning. Day 1. I still have swollen morning face which makes me look even more hideous)

(Sunday morning. Day 2. I've showered and cleaned up for this picture. I didn't want a repeat of Day 1. Eyes still slightly swollen)

(Monday afternoon. Day 3. I cheated and didn't do a close up. Mainly because I wanted to show you my new headband. But, eyes look good)

So, there it is. I no longer have to buy eyeliner. Best day of my life. Oh, and what makes this whole entire story even better. Instead of paying $350 for this fancy procedure I paid $80.

First things first: Where's the bathroom?

I am a relatively wussy person. I usually don't do things that could hurt me unless I am with people that give me no choice. I am pretty sure it all stems from my inability to turn right on my bike when I was 6 years old. Needless to say, I have friends that like to do stupid things -which I have blogged about here and here and which I have clearly been roped into on more than one occasion.

This last weekend was no exception. I almost wet myself from an experience up Big Cottonwood Canyon.
I'm still not quite sure how we ended up here, but I got out of the truck and considered walking down the canyon. Ok, I do know how we got in this position. We had been trying to take Guardsman Pass from Park City to Big Cottonwood Canyon. The gate on the PC side was open, but it looks like someone forgot to unlock the gate up BCC. Way to go, Mr. Ranger. You made us miss our movie.


I am pretty sure the boys were convinced that Adam's rental truck could fit through the side of the gate. I was pretty sure they were crazy. But, I tried to boost their self esteem and so I encouraged this idea. As if two male brains weren't enough, we were joined by a group of teenagers that thought this was a brilliant plan. It turned into a production when Lead Teenager #1 started building a rock wall for the front tire to roll over.

(random teenagers & Adam)

This is when my ultra wussy side took over and I was all, WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! Ok, that's a lie. But I was cold and wanted to get back in the truck.

(Carrie & me freezing)

Eventually we turned around and headed back towards Park City. But, that's not before we dropped the kids off at a random camp spot. And when they got our of the truck the first thing LT#1 said was, "Right on! I've already mapped out where I'm going to poop!"

Yes! I'm glad that was taken care of first. Priorities, man. I can respect that.

A new standard in the way I choose to travel

I've somehow managed to convince one of my clients that they should take me on their private jet.

We had some business to take care of in San Diego and a trip was in order. I even wore my suit. Whenever I wear my suit I feel very grown up.

Anyway, when we were touring my clients facility I looked across the plaza and was greeted with a very friendly sign: Horton Plaza.

The Mother Ship. I secretly starting plotting my escape from the group and all the things I would buy on my imaginary shopping spree. Luckily, I didn't have to initiate my exit strategy because my boss wanted to hit up the mall for a corn dog. Not a lie, Internet.

His corn dog craving lended itself perfectly to me buying an emergency outfit to go to a baseball game. For once in my life, I underpacked and brought no casual clothes for recreational activities. In 30 short minutes I bought shoes, pants and a top and was ready for the Padres game. Note to self: never underpack. You will ultimate regret it and have to spend $100 on an outfit that you don't even like.

By the time I got to my room, I was greeted with a lovely spread of chocolates and chilled sparkling lemonade. I considered chugging the lemonade straight from the bottle, but noticed champaign glasses and I started daydreaming of fancy parties and dancing until dawn and so I poured myself a glass and sat in my robe.


Oh and we did manage to take care of some business while we were there. So all-in-all it was a very successful business trip. I'm pretty sure I never want to fly commercial again.

Shirtless men and the embarrassment that follows

My life is full of random stories that make me happy to be me. Here are two of the latest:

The other day, I was babysitting my friend Diania's little boy, Finn. And not only was I tending him, but his 3 other cousins. All boys. All under the age of 5. The oldest of the boys was named Beckham. He totally and completely reminded me of my brother Alex. The child wouldn't stop talking. It was adorable. He also was quite the charmer. For when I told him I would watch the movie his parents had put on for him he said, "i like to cuddle." Nice, a man who knows what he wants. I can respect that. So I laid on the bed next to him. Not soon after, I got a text from Diania telling me that she would be home shortly, to which i replied, I am cuddling with Beckham. Her response was to tell me that I should watch out, because he will put the moves on me. And not two seconds after her text Beckham was all, my shirt is itchy. I am going to take it off. I laughed for like 10 minutes.

On Saturday, I went on a bike ride. I was going along Wasatch Drive up above foothill wanting to get to that path that goes down by suicide rock. Well, as I am cruising along I pass a super hot guy running. I'm distracted by his glistening sweaty body and I made a wrong turn. Woops. My bad. Focus, Natalie. Focus. I then had to turn around and get on the correct street. Hot guy had passed me in my mistake. So, I had to pass him again. I ride down the street a little further and then I realized that I had to head back home because I had to get to a hair cut appointment. Clearly, I have my priorities. Anyway, as I come up to a stop sign I notice hot-glistening-cut-tan-perfect runner man standing on the corner. I was so distracted (yet again) that as I came to a stop, I totally fell off my bike. RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. Awesome. Well, more like mortifying.

If one day I can make it without falling off my bike in front of hot men, I will know I have had a successful and complete life.