The Thanksgiving that will go down in Harris family history

Many, many years ago when I was at the height of my brattyness (I don't even know if that is a word) my family had a Thanksgiving I would never forget. It was one of those cold, wet Thanksgivings when all you want to do is sit inside, eat turkey and take a nap next to the fire.

However, my parents had other plans for their family that year. I am thinking this was probably Thanksgiving day, circa 1996 (give or take a few years). Kim and Penel were redoing their master bathroom and needed some free, easy labor to dig the foundation for their remodel. And who better than the children they birthed to do it?

And so, for many many hours on Thanksgiving day 1996, the Harris family dug the entire foundation for this extension of our home:


I am 100% sure we complained the whole time. "Want to know what I am NOT thankful for? Having to dig this stupid foundation, that's what" I am also 100% sure my parents instated the "no talk" rule. You know, the one that happens when siblings are fighting so much that if you talk you get grounded? Yea, that one.

And now, every Thanksgiving we talk about "that one Thanksgiving" and we give thanks that we don't have to do it again.

I hope you all had a wonderful and lazy Thanksgiving.

I sure did. And it was wonderful.

The Amazing Date: Part 2

I know you all must be dying of anticipation to hear about the actual date story. Was it good? Was it bad? Did I want to die? Did I wish the night would never end? Well internet friends, I will tell you.

It was probably one of the best set up dates I have ever been on.

Are you shocked?

Well, I was.

This date had the potential to be very VERY awkward. So, needless to say, my expectations were not high. But, my date far exceeded any expectations I could have ever had.

My date was assigned to be taking pictures of the whole event. So, when they called his name, he was out in the hall taking pictures of all the couples. When I went out to meet him he looked at me and winked.

It was right then that I remembered why I didn't want to be a lesbian. Cute boys who wink at me make me weak in the knees. He was the type of guy that is cute, but not the intimidating type of cute. He instantly made me feel comfortable and I respond very well to these type of men. We had an easy banter that I find essential for me being myself on a date.

Our dinner suggestion from the group was "Noodles & Co". But we were too far south to make that really work. I mentioned to him that Italian is one of my favorite types of food, and so he made his way to the closest Italian restaurant. Plus 1: He's a listener.

After dinner we were going to go roller skating, but decided to just go for a drive and chat. Sometime along this drive I said something about how I love Christmas lights. He drove up Little Cottonwood Canyon and when we got to the top he goes, "Dang it, I was hoping they would have their Christmas lights up that we could look at". Cute! Plus 2: He listened again.

I'm kind of shocked at this point. A boy ACTUALLY listening to me and acting on what he is hearing. I didn't know these boys still existed.

He parks the car and I all my fears of d-bags come rushing back to me. Dude, is this guy seriously "parking"? I might die. But instead of jumping over the center console and attacking me, he opened up his sunroof, turned the radio station to fm100 and said, "you can hold my hand whenever you want to". I laughed and held out my hand. And in a flirty banter kind of way he said back, "this is romantic".

After our brief "romantic" star gazing experience, we drove down to La Caille to look at their Christmas lights. We even got out of the car and took a picture. WHICH, wasn't even my idea. What guy voluntarily takes pictures with a set up date? A good one. That's who.

We made our way back to the meeting place for the "after party" and dessert. I thought it was kind of ridiculous that they actually had an after party. I mean, it's that what we were tying to get away from?

But that was the end of the night. My cute date got my number so there could be the possibility of second. Even if he doesn't call me, I will thank him for restoring my faith in men. I know I had fun with him and that is all that I wanted. Well, that and being treated like a lady.

So, there you go. The Amazing Date really lived up to it's name.

However, since I went against my rule and blogged about a date that I actually had fun on, I heretofore set the rule that no one can ask me if my date has called me. I'll tell you if I want to. Plus, if he doesn't call, I don't want to have to tell you he hasn't. That's just sad.

The Amazing Date: Part 1

So the Amazing Date happened this past weekend. And there are so many ridiculous things I could blog about I honestly don't even know how to gather my thoughts. Seriously, I should have brought a notepad to take scrupulous notes on the level of entertainment that was achieved this Saturday night.

The entire group of 200 single people all had a meet at an office building where we mingled, listened to the boring "date doctor" and then have the most awkward pairing situation of our lives.

First off, I absolutely loved how "done up" everyone was. It was lovely. 200 of my closest friends all looking and smelling good hoping beyond hope that they end up on a date with their #1. Oh, and if they didn't want to make this whole date even more awkward, they (the creators of the group) decided that they would crown a King and Queen of the Amazing Date. The male and female that had the most people put them in their "top ten" were crowned. Seriously. Ridiculous. I kind of felt like I was back in high school again.

The "Date Doctor" did make a few good points. But her delivery could have used some serious work. What I took away from her is that I shouldn't judge so quickly. Yes lady, I know that. I am working on it. I didn't need you to tell me that. I have my mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, cousin, great-aunt, second cousin, younger brother, dad, coworker and friends all telling me that. I think we got it covered.

Anyway, so we didn't find out who we were being set up with until after the mingling and date doctor shenanigans. The anticipation was killing me. Seriously, just tell me who I am going out with. It was a little bit like Christmas morning.

And so, the way they told us who we were going out with was by calling your name and your dates name over the microphone and making you walk out of the room together. Yes, sufficiently awkward.

Want to know what was even more awkward? They got my name mixed up with someone else's so for about 3 minutes I didn't think I had a date.

I may or may not have sent the following text messages to my friend Nicole:

Um, they don't have a date for me. This is the saddest day of my life.

which was followed two minutes later by this:

False alarm. They found him. I'm not going to kill myself.

And so, stay tuned for the actual date story. It's a good one. You won't be disappointed.

The things I'll do for a good blog post.

So, we all know I am single. And it's no surprise that I am after that one date that almost turned me into a lesbian. Anyway, I have a love/hate relationship with my singleness. Some days I can't imagine myself married and having to put someones elses feelings/thoughts/actions/wants/desires/etc. before mine. That really freaks me out. And then other days I am all, EFF THIS! WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?!?

One day, about a month ago I was cruising Facebook to make sure none of my crushes were posting pictures of themselves with cute petite blondes. I hate when that happens. So whatever, I'm internet researching people and I come across a group called, The Amazing Date 2009. Intrigued, I clicked on it.

Basically, it's an huge date set up. People join the group, look at each others profiles and then send in your "top ten" to the groups creator. They then set people up for a big date that is actually happening this coming weekend.

I signed up just so I could blog about it. AND, when it fails I will tell Jinny that I tried dating online and it didn't work for me.

Stay tuned for the recap post next week. I kind of can't wait.

P.S. Over 300 people signed up for this massive set up so the creators had to cut people out. And want to know who didn't make the cut? The guy that almost turned me into a lesbian. Serves him right. Karma's a bitch.

I hire help. I don't do the help. At least, that is what I thought would happen.

Effin' leaves:



Don't get me started on the fact that I had to rake these this year. I mean, I was all for doing a repeat of last year and hiring the help. Apparently, I was overruled.

I'm still bitter about it.

And if you must know, that is 49 bags. Once the rest drop, we'll have about 10 more.

I'm proud to say we are related.

My cousin Carly and her family moved to Phoenix years ago. Like, probably 14+ years ago. Even though she lives far far away, she is the one cousin that I am probably the closest to. I think it is mainly because she is hilarious and posts things like this on her blog.

"Within 5 minutes I had a bite and was reeling the first fish of the day in. Once we secured the fish I stood up and yelled to all the other fishermen within earshot "vagina's 1, penis's 0". I attribute much of my success to my boots!"

Anyone that can contribute an achievement to a pair a boots is my kind of girl.

Needless to say, she's pretty cool. She's always trying to get me to move down to Phoenix. Which, is so very tempting once the snow starts falling. Lately, she's taken to texting me about the great weather that they are having. Just the other day I received the following text from her:

"I'm currently laying outside on my nice green grass wearing flip flops and a short sleeved shirt. How's your November treating you?"

which was followed by this picture & text the next day:

"I must retract my previous gloat about the weather. It's been mid 90s this week. Why God, why? Haven't we suffered enough?"



You see, her failure to remember what a beautiful autumn is like is her fatal flaw. Because when I responded back to her with this picture:


all she could say back to me was:

"bitch"

That response. That response right there is the reason I love her. Nothing says family like a profanity sent over text message.

Excuse me officer, but I think you forgot your pants.

Blog posting has seriously be lacking here at Nat-the-brat. I do apologize. To you my readers, I am very sorry. But never fear, I have an arsenal of posts that will be firing out of this blog so fast you will think that your baby just had a blowout on your computer screen. Sick. I don't know why I said that. Erase that from your memory.

Anyway. Back to this post. So I know the internet is just DYING for another Halloween post. And so, I'll give you one. Well I kind of will, but not totally. I spent my Halloween doing the following:

Breakfast with friends
Pedicure with Brooke
This Is It movie with Brooke
Visited my newest "nephew" Jonathan*
Utah Game
Halloween parties

When at I was at the U game, I was all, "I am SOOOO tired. I have been going all day." And then when I was asked what I did all day and I repeated the above tasks, and then felt completely embarrassed. Really, Natalie? Really? Eating, being pampered and sitting in darkness listening to MJ made you tired? I'm totally screwed for real life. I do realize that.

Anyway, the low part of my Halloween was the parties. I mean, maybe if I had dressed sluttier it would have been more fun. But alas, I am not a slut. Well, at least I don't think so.

I did get my "Border Babe" costume at Blue Boutique (yes, it's debatable. I might be a slut).


However with this costume, I chose to wear pants. You know, like what most normal people do on regular days. But I guess Halloween is not a regular day and people forget their morals, and their pants. Maybe you can tell me, would I have had more fun at parties if I had chosen to exclude the pants from this outfit?

I'm pretty sure the fact that I chose to put on pants this Halloween ensures that no one can call me a slut for at least 90 days. At least.

Hope you all had a fun, and modest, Halloween.


*It's highly likely that by the time I marry, I will be past child bearing years. And so my friend's children are my "nieces and nephews".