That's What She Said

I've influenced her for life

2011-12-24T15:00:00.011-07:00

On Thanksgiving this year, I took a video of Ava that made me very happy. I have taken many of videos of her during her 18 months here on this earth. But this one made me realize that maybe I have had some sort of influence on her. It might be a bad influence, but I've influenced her nonetheless.

You see, since she was a young babe, I have loved to take self portraits of us together using my phones camera. I usually look ridiculous and they end up blurry, but its just something I just love to do. As you can see, I have took many during of our time together...

So, back to Thanksgiving and the video I took of her. Well, I think my influence speaks for itself..

The only bad thing I can see is that I've taught her to take pictures of herself. Which is kind of narcissistic. But whatever, she's cute and adorable so she can be as narcissistic as she wants.

You know you're too reliant on your phone when you cry in your car over lost phone numbers

2011-12-06T16:58:00.010-07:00

Sometime last week, my phone had an alert on it saying I had low storage space. Annoyed at the thought that I would have to go to Verizon to get it fixed, I postponed going for a few days. However, when my phone stopped receiving emails, I had to suck it up and go to the store.

The Verizon worker told me there was a glitch in the latest system update that was telling my phone it had less storage than it really had - so he had to do a hard reboot. Meaning, my entire phone would be wiped clean. I would have to download all my apps and set everything back up. Ok, not a big deal. I could handle that. However, what I couldn't handle is my contact list being wiped. So, I specifically asked if my contact list could be backed up. He promised me it would. He even said, "It looks like your contacts are being backed up in your gmail."

I should have interjected and said, "well make sure, because I don't think all my phone numbers have been synced in my gmail." But I didn't. For whatever reason, I didn't. And now I am kicking myself.

Because when I got my phone back and was walking to my car, I opened up my "People". And well, the only people that were in my list were an FHE group I had created 3 years ago when I had The Worst Calling in the church (I talk about it here too).

Bad words were said.

Many of them.

And then tears were shed.

Even more of them.

I lost over 700 phone numbers. I got back to work and called Nicole in tears. She tried to help me restore the numbers, but for some reason they were never synced in my gmail contacts list.

I know I will never use most of those numbers again. But I honestly feel like I lost a huge part of my life.

The best part of this whole story is when I emailed people and asked them to send me a text with their name so I could have their number again, I got this from my mom:

"Boo Hoo. Mommy and Daddy live at 801-xxx-xxxx and Mommy's cell is 801-xxx-xxxx."

This was disturbing on my many levels. 1) The fact that my mom referred to herself and my father as "mommy and daddy" and 2) because she thought she needed to remind me of my home phone number. That is like the one phone number I will remember until I get Alzheimer's and die. I then realized that out of all the phone numbers in my phone, I only knew 6 of them by heart. 1) Dad's cell 2) Mom's cell 3) my parents home 4) Hailey 5) Katelyn and 6) Kristine. Katelyn and Kristine get the honorary friend memorization because they have had the same numbers since we first had cell phones 11 year ago.

How many numbers can you remember off the top of your head? If it's as few as mine, you better back up your phone contacts now. Or else you'll be crying in your car one day when you realize you can't call anyone to help you because you lost your phone contacts.

Flourecent lighting was almost the deciding factor.

2011-10-18T23:32:00.008-06:00

So, I actually never blogged about this, but I switched jobs back in January. Yes, 10 months ago. Leaving Agency X to go to Agency Y was a tough choice. I loved Agency X and miss it a lot. But I'm really enjoying my life at Agency Y so I am happy with my decision.

One nice thing about Agency Y is that I now have an office - opposed to a work space that can't even be called a cubical at X. Don't get me wrong, I loved the layout and design at X, but it didn't provide for any privacy. Needless to say, I became VERY good at blocking out noise around me. I've pretty much mastered the ability to have selective hearing. My future children are screwed.

Anyway, so at Agency Y I have an office. It's small, but it's an office. But I have come to loved it. From where I sit I can see into the office across from me which has a huge window. Plus, all my new work friends have offices right next to me. I feel like I have the best lot in the neighborhood.

Current office digs:

A week or so ago my boss came into my office and told me that with the recent new hires, they are moving some people around and a much larger office is free for my taking. She told me to think about it.

You're thinking...GREAT! A larger office! But there are some other things to consider. The office is down by all the partners (not a horrible thing, but I would just be away from all my friends) and it doesn't have any natural lighting. Trying to weigh my options, I went into my coworkers office to get his opinion. He decided we should make a pros/cons list. I was all for it.

This is our list:

My favorite is the cons list.

1) Loneliness
2) Bad Lighting

Ultimately, I chose to take the new office. I really do need more space, plus all my friends promised to come visit me in my new office (all the way down the hall). Once I'm all settled I'll try and post some pictures. I feel like such a grown up.

Dear Insurance, I've used you wisely. Love, Natalie

2011-10-03T21:42:00.007-06:00

Remember that one time I thought I was having a kidney stone but then I thought it was just the pain from the UTI? Well, it wasn't a UTI and it was in fact a kidney stone. The realization that it was a kidney stone was about 2 months in the making. Because about every 2 weeks, that blinding pain would hit my kidney area and I wouldn't be able to pee.

It's shocking how many times I visited my doctor in a month. And every time she would ask me, "when is the last time you had sex?" Whenever I would tell her never, she never seemed to believe me. It was like she wanted to catch me in a lie. I mean, I think she understood my religious beliefs when she saw my garments and starting talking about different kinds I should try. But whatever, maybe she was just being thorough.

After my 2nd time meeting with her, she told me I needed to see a specialist. Now, normally I wouldn't be concerned about seeing a specialist, but this time it was different. I had just had a meeting at work and learned that our insurance was switching over to an HSA (Health Savings Plan). For those of you that don't know what that means, I'll put it in lamen terms: I pay a lot more to go to the doctor. In fact, I pay EVERYTHING up until my $1,500 deductible is reached. Yikes. So, you can imagine when I heard the word specialist the dollars signs starting flashing in my head.

My insurance was going to be switching over on October 1. It was September 22nd. She put in a referral and said they would try and get me in before Oct 1. Well, September 25th came and back came the blinding pain and the inability to pee. I called my doctor first thing the next morning to get the phone number to the urologist they referred me to. I immediately called and was able to get in on Wednesday, Sept 27th.

Wednesday came and I was feeling fine. I kind of felt stupid going to the doctor when I had no symptoms. When I explained to him the problem, he said he thought it had a kidney stone lodged somewhere - but the only way to find out is to get a ct scan. Dollar sign. Dollar sign. LOTS OF DOLLAR SIGNS!!!

I asked how quickly I could get one. I might as well take this insurance plan for all it's worth. And so, Friday, September 30th at 7 am, I had a ct scan. Friday at 1:30 pm my doctor calls me to tell me I have a 5mm kidney stone stuck in my ureter and that I would need to get it surgically removed.

I googled what a 5mm kidney stone looked like. And also, what a ureter was. I'm not very smart.

Knowing the insurance timeline I was under, my doctor said he could get me in for surgery that night.

And so, at 6pm Friday, September 30th, I checked myself into the hospital. I was completely unprepared for what I was about to do. Because when they showed me to my room and told me they would be back to give me an IV, I about passed out.

This was me before I got my IV:

This was me after

And well, I didn't take a picture of myself AFTER the surgery, because I was crying and wanted to die. When I signed up for this, I thought I would get a Valium and they would do the ultra sonic sound waves thing to break up the stone. Then all I would have to do is drink gallons of water to flush it out.

My upcoming procedure was not so kind. Pretty much they went UP my urethra (TMI?), through my bladder and into my ureter. Then they used a laser to blast the stone into tiny, passable pieces. THEN, they inserted a stint into my ureter to keep it open so that stones would come out. AND THEY LEFT THE STINT IN.

So as I woke up, I felt like my crotch was on fire and that someone was pinching it. This is when I started crying and asking for my mom. Seriously, it's like I was 5.

I eventually made it back to my room where my mom was patiently waiting for me. She told me I did great and even had a present for me. My kidney stone!! Ok, not the whole thing, just two itty bitty pieces of it.

Finally, around midnight I was ready to leave. I spent the weekend at my parents being pampered by my lovely mother. What would have I done with out her? Even though I am 29, I still need my mom like I was 5 years old. A girls gotta have her mama.

So there you have it. Nothing like soaking my insurance plan for all it's worth until the very end.

Appropriate beach wear...i think so.

2011-09-12T18:40:00.004-06:00

So, if you read my previous post, I mention that I was going to attend my ward activity. This was a big step for me. Ever since the church decided to change my whole life around by making me go to a ward in my boundaries, I haven't had much desire to actually attend any ward activity. Given, I am probably one of the oldest people in the ward (I am not overexaggerating here) and there are only 40 guys that come to church, going to a ward activity hasn't been top on my list of priorities.

Anyway, the tubing the Provo river trip was going to be fun. At least that is what I told myself. The plan was to meet at the ward, do a little service project by cleaning the ward, and then heading down to the river.

I contemplated my outfit choice, and since I wasn't going to make it in time to do the service project, I felt that wearing my river/lake/pool coverup was an ok choice. If was going to be on the river or hanging out in the hot sun at the picnic after, I was going to take every opportunity to tan my skin that I could.

And well, I believe I might have been the only one that thought this. Because when I pulled up to the ward, I was easily the sluttiest dressed one of the bunch. My mother would be proud.

Slut outfit:
What do you think? Was it inappropriate to wear this to a ward activity?

If you're a Mormon girl, you must be crafty.

2011-08-26T17:30:00.000-06:00

If I ever get a phone call from an unknown number, I never answer it. I figure if it important enough than whoever is calling me will leave a message. I just like to be prepared to talk to whomever is calling me. I don't want to have any awkward phone conversations.

Yesterday, I was driving home from work and someone was calling me from an unknown number. The area code was something like like 228 and I thought it might be someone from work. So, out of sheer panic, I answered. Fail. Never answer calls from unknown numbers. Because I then proceeded to have one of the most awkward phone conversations of my life.

I have changed names as to not embarrass anyone, but the rest of this transcript is very accurate. I have not over-exaggerated anything. This is just my life. Oh, and I have also put in italics my thoughts as the conversation was going.

Me: Hello?

Anonymous Caller: Hi Natalie, this is Paul from the ward

Me: oh, hi

Paul: I have it on the list that you are coming to the ward activity on Saturday

Me: Yes, yes I am

Paul: Great. Would you like to help out at the ward activity on Saturday.

Me:[No, not really.] Sure, what do you need help with?

P: Anything!!

Me:[anything? Wtf? Am i now supposed to start listing off things I think he might need help with? I'm confused.] Well did you have something specific in mind?

P: Well, I remember being at your house one night and you were doing something really crafty. So could you make a really crafty sign? Or maybe we could use help in buying food and putting it in coolers.

Me: [He must have the wrong Natalie. I do not have a crafty bone in my body] Um, i'm not crafty. And I actually don't really have the time to make a really crafty sign. I could go to the store and get food though if you need me to.

P: Well, we could really use a crafty sign. Could you help with that? Like, could you get together tomorrow night to help?

Me: [Tomorrow night? Friday? Um no.] Ok, I am not crafty. And I actually have plans tomorrow. But, I am more than willing to go to the store if you tell me what you need.

P: Well, we already have people going to costco to get food, so we need a crafty sign.

Me: [wow, he is REALLY pushing this CRAFTY sign business. And why mention you need help with food if you don't actually need help with food?] Ok, I can make a sign. But it is not going to be crafty. What do you need on the sign? What is it being used for?

P: We'll put it in the parking lot so people know where to go.

Me: Ok, so a direction sign. Sure I can do that.

P: Ok great. You'll make a crafty sign with bubbly letters. Great.

Me: [if he says the word "crafty" one more time I am going to lose my shit. And what? Where did he all of a sudden get "bubbly letters" from?] Um, like I said, I am not crafty. I can make a sign. But I make no promises on it being crafty.

P: Well do you at least have girly handwriting?

Me: Yes, I do. It will be legible.

P: ok, that will do.

Paul went about this all all the wrong way. All he needed to say was "I could use your help in creating a sign to put up in the parking lot directing people where to go. Could you meet me at the ward a little bit early on Saturday and help me make it?"

The best part of this whole story is I just got a voice mail from him. He told me someone else already asked another girl in the ward to make a sign and "she seemed really excited to make it".

Good for her. I'm sure she'll stamp, sticker,flower and glue glitter all over that sign. It will be so pretty.

I'll show up and then kick dirt on it.

It's the gift that keeps on giving.

2011-08-25T17:14:00.008-06:00

Facebook is like people.com, but for us commoners. I love it and hate it. I love it because it keeps me updated on anything that is going on socially. Instead of mass text messages for bbqs, parties or get togethers, people just create events. It's kind of like a public calendar and you can decide what to attend based on the people that are already "attending". It is also a great way to share photos. We all know "I'll send you that picture" is never going to happen.

Now, I could list of a billion, trillion reasons why I hate it, but then this post will just turn into Natalie-rages-against-Facebook-and-sounds-like-a-manic-freak. And well, I would hate for that to happen. Especially in such a public forum. So, I will instead list something what I find extremely entertaining about Facebook.

The gossip.

"oh, did you see that so-and-so went from "engaged" to "single". I wonder what happened? He's probably addicted to porn"

"Did you see that so-and-so and so-and-so were in pictures together. I bet they are dating"

Well, today I posted some pictures from a recent trip I took to Lake Powell with some friends. And by friends I mean I knew 2 people out of the 10 that were there. It was a great trip and I loved every minute of it. This was the text that I received today from a very good friend after I posted my pictures:

"Which boy am I looking at in your Facebook pictures? Was there a love connection?"

And well, I'll leave the answer to that text private. Because what happens in Lake Powell, stays in Lake Powell.

Enjoy the pics

Privacy is for the birds

2011-07-27T18:36:00.001-06:00

It's been awhile. So, naturally, I'm going to post about my recent bout with a UTI. Yes, a Urinary Tract Infection. I know you want to keep reading.

Have you ever had a UTI? Well, I hadn't. I had had bladder infections before, which were horrible. What, you feel like you are going to pee your pants? You want to go to the bathroom and relieve yourself? To bad! You can't! Your bladder isn't working and it will make you think you have to pee but then won't actually let you. Bladder, you bitch!

Ok, sorry about that Mom.

Anyway, I thought a UTI was just a bladder infection. Which, technically it kind of is. My research on WebMD pretty much calls them the same thing. But I've had bladder infections before, and none of them caused the pain that I experienced with my UTI. Hence, the reason I think they are different. Suck it WebMD.

WebMD also says women get UTI's after having sex. And since I haven't so much as touched a boys hand in the last 100 years, I can pretty much rule that out. I did however text Nicole and say "I have a UTI. Sadly, it is not from having hot, passionate sex."

I digress.

I went to InstaCare (which is another story all on its own) after lunch and was given a prescription. Other than feeling like i was going to wet myself every 5 minutes, I felt fine, so i went back to work. At about 4:30 pm, I starting having massive cramps and the most horrendous lower back pain I have ever experienced. I had to finish a few things and didn't leave work until around 5:15. By this time, I could barely stand. I had no idea how I was going to make it home. I prayed, "Dear Lord, help me not pass out or throw up in my car. I need to make it home."

I left work at the same time the entire city of SLC decided to leave work too. Traffic was horrible. I almost started crying but was so focused on my pain I couldn't shed a tear. The second I made it in my front door and to the bathroom I threw up the burrito I had for lunch. The pain in my back was getting worse and I literally thought I was dying. I thought I was having a kidney stone. I called my mom:

Mom: Hi Nat

Me: (Balling my eyes out) MOM! I am dying!

Mom: What? What is wrong?

Me: (Hysterically crying) I THINK I HAVE A KIDNEY STONNNNNNNNEEEEEE!

Mom: Where are you?

Me: (yep, still crying) Home. Dying a slow death!!!!!

Mom: I'll be right there.

I lay on my bathroom floor contemplating my death. Ok, not really. But I thought about all the people that relate kidney stones and child birth and say they are the two most painful things in the world. And well, I decided right then and there if I ever find a boy I like, decided to date, fall in love, get married, have sex and make a baby, I will never do natural child birth. If I can't handle the pain of a UTI, how do you expect me to handle the pain of child birth? To save myself and my future marriage, I'll opt for drugs. Just saying.

So anyway, my sweet mom came and rescued me. She heated up my heating pad, made me comfy in bed and made sure I was ok. And through the miraculous work of western medicine and some mother's TLC, I made it out alive.

I hope you have enjoyed this story and the fact that I actually blogged. Nothing says welcome back like a story about pee.

I thought I'd teach her how to be a real diva, but the kid beat me to it.

2011-06-23T17:24:00.003-06:00

The day my family went to Hilton Head it was Hannah's 9th birthday. Because we were going to be traveling for almost her entire birthday, my mom bought her a Happy Birthday tiara and took her birthday shopping before the trip. On her shopping trip, Hannah chose to have my mom buy a big pair of hot pink sunglasses and a hot pink polka dot blanket for her birthday present.

I knew nothing of this purchase until we sat down on our first plane ride. Hannah was already wearing her tiara and feeling like a diva when she sat down next to me. The next thing she did was pull out her sunglasses and put them on like she was some sort of celebrity that didn't want to be bothered. She then pulled out her blanket and cuddled up to the window and went to sleep.

Now, had she actually be a celebrity and had done this, I would have thought she had passed out from being drunk. But since she isn't a celebrity and only 9 years old, I thought it was just plain adorable.

Dear Blog, I sort of forgot about you.

2011-06-14T16:47:00.006-06:00

Dear Readers (if I have any at this point),

I am sorry that I have abandoned this blog. It literally seems like it is the last thing on my mind. Not that I have had anything in particular on my mind, other than the fact that I'm about ready to kick mother nature in the taco if she doesn't learn to give me my summer before June 14th. But that is besides the point.

The fact is, my life is so boring that I can't possibly even think of anything enjoyable to write about. Ok, I take that back. My life has been very enjoyable this last month. I guess I just haven't found anything funny to post about. I like my posts to be funny. Today's post...pretty boring. You can stop reading now if you feel so inclined.

In summary, this is what has happened in the past month....

May 15 - 21: Went on family trip to Hilton Head, South Carolina. Lovely. Awesome. Fabulous week off of work. But let's be honest, nothing really too exciting or funny to write about there. But here is a picture of me doing my favorite activity while in SC.

May 27 - May 31: Went to San Francisco with Katelyn to visit one our dear friend Kristine. Again, it was a wonderful trip. But, totally drama free (which is how I prefer to live my life). Highlight of the trip. finally taking a picture in front of the Full House house. My life is nearly complete.

In the midst of all this the LDS church decided to switch my life around and make me go to a singles ward of the boundaries that I actually live in. THE NERVE! Needless to say, I was quite depressed about this switch. I loved my last ward. But alas, I do believe the "church is true" and therefore will choose to believe this will be for my good, as well as those around me.

However, this does not mean that I didn't once leave my friend a voice mail after church one week stating that we should form our own ward, find a bishop and let President Monson know what we were doing. I'm thinking it wouldn't go over well. But there is always to hope, right?

Anyway, I'm bored with myself so without a doubt so are you. I'll try to go on a bad date one of these days so I have something to blog about.

Love,

Natalie

Facebook knew before I did. Something is wrong with this picture.

2011-05-06T17:39:00.004-06:00

Since having Alex home from his mission, I finally feel like I am not the 7th wheel in my family. Having another single sibling around is always nice. We bond over bad date stories and about how we each think the other sex is stupid. The best part is that we got to take a "singles" picture at our recent family photo shoot. As shown here:

Now, Alex before his mission was quite the playboy. Our family would joke about his typical "dinner and make out" date (Dinner at Pei Wei and back to the parents house to watch Transformers). I kid you not, this was his date. He took so many girls on this same date that my parents stopped introducing themselves to the evolving door of young girls that came through their front door. Alex is a charmer - gotta love him for that.

Alex after his mission has been a little bit more shy. Not sure what happened, but he lost a bit of his dating mojo. I knew he would get it back one day, but I just didn't know when. Well, that day was sometime this week. I talked to him about a week ago about a girl I know he had asked out. He told me that their date had been reschedule and he would see what happened. So you can imagine my surprise then I logged on to Facebook and saw this:

I immediately text him:

ME: Excuse me..."in a relationship"?!?!?!?

ALEX: I was wondering how many times I would have this convo today

ME: Well???

ALEX: Well what?

ME: Who is this chick? And how are you already in a relationship. I don't buy it.

ALEX: Her name is Michelle from my institute class. We have been hanging like nonstop for a week. I was with her when Hailey called, she will attest.

Ok, my brother is adorable. But I about peed my pants when I read the line "hanging like nonstop for a week". Apparently 1 week is all I need.

I wish my brother and his new girlfriend all the best. She better be adorable to date my brother. He's top notch.

Who knows, dear readers, maybe by the next time I post I will have a boyfriend to talk about.

Remember, all I need is one week.

Things that make me happy...

2011-04-21T11:26:00.003-06:00

I know this isn't much of a post, but I'm kind of obsessed with this picture of me and Ava.

She loves me.

And to me, that is enough for a blog post.

Lent doesn't count if a boy buys my dinner. Just saying.

2011-04-11T17:58:00.005-06:00

So I thought I might give you all a little update on how I am doing on my Lent promise. I will have you know that I have not eaten at a fast food restaurant once since Ash Wednesday. Ok, well, I take that back, I did eat KFC and it was on a date. So I take that as I get a free pass. And before I tell you about how I let some guy take me to KFC, let me first say that not eating fast food is KILLING ME. All I want is a burger and fries. Seriously, that is all I want out of life. I have 14 more days until I will be pulling into the closest Wendy's and ordering enough burgers to make myself sick. I'll start a paper chain and keep it at my office.

Now, on to my KFC date. I know, you are all probably thinking, "this guy is retarded if he is taking our dear Natalie to KFC." And well, he might be retarded, but it wasn't for his lack of date planning. And the reasons why he might be retarded will not be discussed on this blog. But, I will talk about how I actually let him take me to KFC.

On our first date, he took me to the Mandarin up in Bountiful. We went there on a Saturday night and when we got there I overheard a lady say that she had been waiting for 35 minutes and still had 7 parties ahead of her. But to my surprise, when my date came back from checking us in he told me our wait would be 20 minutes. When I asked how come our wait was so short, he told me that he called ahead and put our names on the list. WHAT??!!! He called ahead??!! I practically jumped him right then and there, but I refrained myself. It was our first date. I had to hold the crazy in a little.

So now it was the day of our 2nd date. I had no idea what we were going to do. Then at 4 that afternoon I get a text from him. Here is our text conversation...and in italics are my thoughts that coincided with his messages.

Him: wear some comfy shoes

Me: (um, comfy shoes? comfy shoes don't really go with the outfit I have planned). Will gold flats work as comfy shoes? Or do I need to be wearing work out shoes?

Him: Can you move around in gold flats?

Me: (move around?? He is taking me dancing!!! How romantic!) Gold flats are good for anything but maybe hiking. Are you going to tell me what we are doing? Or is it a surprise?

Him: How does getting KFC and playing frisbee in the park sound?

Me: (Woa, I was WAY off. Dancing? Why did I ever think he would take me dancing. I'm such a girl.) I think that sounds perfect! It's great weather for that too! See you tonight.

So yes, we went to KFC, ordered a bucket and chicken and ate it in the park. It was awesome.

They are magic glasses. That is what they are.

2011-03-28T16:08:00.005-06:00

To follow up on this post, I did actually go to Costco and look for glasses. Lucky for me, they had a GREAT selection and I was not forced to buy a ginormous box of Gushers and eat myself silly.

Also, these frames were only $70. I love me a Costco deal!

I feel strangely smarter just by wearing them. AND, I was called a sexy librarian the day I wore them to church. Yes, I might have also been wearing lace and pearls so that might have played a role in the whole "Natalie looks like an old lady" outfit, but a least I got called "sexy". I figure...mission accomplished.

How to Annoy Natalie 101

2011-03-24T22:37:00.004-06:00

So I know I live in the year 2011 and most people text more than they talk in their phones, but I have a serious bone to pick with texting messaging when it comes to dating.

Hello Soap Box, let me step on you for a minute. There is not anything that annoys me more in this whole world than a guy that asks out over text message. I mean, if you don't have the balls to pick up the phone and dial my number, you don't have enough balls to date me. I can be a tough cookie. And well, if you have to hide behind the screen of your phone and first send flirty/somewhat inappropriate text messages to gauge my interest in you before you do something about it - then you should just put down the phone and back away slowly.

This is a direct transcript of a text conversation I had last night. I have put my thoughts in red for your reading enjoyment. Also, I have given this guy the game of George. Just because I don't know any George's. And for the record, I actually think this guy is cute. He has potential.

10:35 PM

George: What are you doing? Really? at 10:30 at night? I'm not answering this text

5 minutes later:

George: That was a joke. What's going on? You ready for the Y game tomorrow?

Me: If you mean am I ready to watch the Y lose and put and end to this Jimmer mania crap? Then yes...very ready!

George: Wow. My bad.

Me: Oh come on, don't cry about it

George: (he tried to apparently message me on Facebook) Do you know how to use your computer? I invite you over all the time but you never come. Not sure how I should feel about that. For the record, I have only received mass text messages from him and maybe 1 phone call but they have all been past 9:00 pm. I get annoyed at the latest of his invites so I don't respond.

Me: I am not sure how I feel about getting fake invites from you at 10:30 at night

George: I'll make it worth your while. Oh really? We're getting to this level of insinuating now? I'm not going to bite. This conversation is going nowhere but downhill fast if I respond with an equally as flirty text.

Me: That's funny because I don't actually remember getting an invite

George: That is funny. I thought i invited you over thirty minutes ago.

Me: OH! Was your invite "what are you doing"..then following by "that was a joke?" I can't believe i didn't see that as an invite!

George: Yea, i guess that wasn't very smooth. I'll have to work on it.

George: We should really get out and do something sometime. and i'm not joking or giving you a hard time this time.

Me: Well, you do have my number and can call me if you want go out :) Yes I did just tell him to pick up the damn phone if he wants to ask me out.

George: Sounds good. Have a good night

I'm sorry, but I think I deserve someone to be a gentleman and call me on the phone and ask me out on a proper date. Is that asking too much??! I think not.

And before my mom or grandma or anyone that has been married more than 5 years decides to comment on this post about how I was too mean to him, let me save you the trouble and ask for you not to comment.

Because LITERALLY AS I WAS TYPING THIS POST, this is what just happened:

George: Hey. You busy?

Me: Nope. Just checking emails I was NOT about to tell him I was blogging about him.

George: Good. Just checking.

Man.. I give up.

Don't mess with this cougar...she'll blog about you.

2011-03-15T16:49:00.004-06:00

For the past month or so, every Wednesday I go to my ward to cheer on our girls and boys basketball teams. And no, I do not play. PPLLLEEEAASSSSEEE! Natalie does NOT play sports. I am much to awkward and untalented to participate in any sort of group sport. Instead, I consider myself a supporter. Everyone needs a supporter. I fill that void.

Also, Wednesdays provide me a great outlet to flirt and do all the things that are too shameful to do during church on Sundays. AND since there are other wards there that means there are more guys to flirt with. Ok, let's be honest, I don't flirt with boys I don't know. I am much to shy for that.

And this is where my friend Heather comes in. Last Wednesday we were there watching our boys play another ward. And low and behold, there was a boy on the other team that was very cute. I may have joked to Heather that she should talk to him after the game and give him my number. And since Heather is a new friend, maybe she didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice - because when the game was over and I had left, she went up to him and got his number for me.

Now, normal Natalie would not have done anything with that number. But for some reason I thought I was 20 again and had no shame.

And so I text him.

And we decided to meet up sometime on Saturday.

So on Saturday he text me and we decided that we were just going to watch the Duke basketball game at his house. I was not about to submit myself to a whole night with a total stranger - no matter how cute he was.

And so, I made sure I looked as hot and young as I possibly could because as we were texting I found out he was A SOPHOMORE IN COLLEGE. Good hell. I'm a cougar. I did not reveal my age. And if he asked, I was going to be 25. 25 was a good year.

Don't I look 25?

Anyway, I went over to his house. And let me tell you...it was the longest hour and half of my life. Although good looking, the guy was a COMPLETE jerk. He pretty much ignored me the whole time, talked to his roommate more than me, and at one point he got up and made himself a shake and didn't bother to ask me if I wanted anything to drink. Bastard.

I sat there plotting my escape. How was I going to get out of this??? And then I remembered something. I remembered that I was 28 and have actually grown some balls over the years. And so the second the game ended, I said, "Well, I am gong to leave."

And that I did.

And I couldn't have been happier with myself. I guess being a cougar does have it's advantages.

For Lent...

2011-03-10T17:31:00.004-07:00

So, I'm not Catholic or anything, but I decided that I was going to participate in Lent this year. I mean, I guess I could show God how much I love him by giving up something that i love for 40 days. Or at least that is what I am telling people.

When I broke up with Justin last summer, I lost a good 15 lbs. It was kind of awesome. Well, the breakup and not having an appetite for a month wasn't awesome, but being all skinny and crap was wonderful. But lets be honest, the way I eat there was no way I was going to be able to keep that weight off. And well, I've pretty much gained it all back. No surprise.

But I kind of loved being 15 lbs lighter. So I decided that I was going to participate in Lent and give up fast food. Yes, I could say that I am showing God how much I love him, but really I am doing it so I can hopefully lose some weight. Selfishness, covered by the outward appearance of selflessness. It's brilliant.

Anyway, so I posted on Facebook my decision to give up fast food. And this was the response:

Clearly, people think I am insane for doing such an act or they think I can't do it.

Then, today my lovely friend Kristine sent me this:

What is this??? She tempts me with adorable pictures of her baby eating delicious fast food?!

It's like people WANT me to fail. And to that I say, NO WAY! I have God on my side.

He totally wants me to be skinny.

At the end of the day, there are always Gushers.

2011-03-08T17:26:00.004-07:00

Years ago, when I was young and didn't need to go to sleep by 10:30 pm to function, I had surgery on my left eye. It wasn't just any surgery. My poor little eye was much too bad to have lasik and so I was put under general anesthesia, had my eye opened up, had a lens implanted and then had 9 stitches placed IN MY EYE to help it stick. For the record, the recovery was horrible. It felt like I had something in my eye and I couldn't do anything about it. I remember crying in public while at dinner with my family because all I wanted to do was take my eyeball out of my socket and throw it out the window. I also had to wear a metal eye patch taped to my face when I slept so I wouldn't touch my eye. The only good thing that came out of it was that I had a nice prescription for Loritab...oh, and that I could actually see.

Anyway, this surgery happened almost 7 years ago. I have yet to get lasik in my right eye...mainly because I am lazy. I wear one contact in my right eye. And every once and a while if my left eye catches the light at the right angle, it will reflect like a cat's. It's totally creepy. I call it my cat eye. And my bowling name is Cat Woman. It just makes sense.

Unlike this post.

Ok, focus. So, I wear a contact in my right eye. It's not the worst thing in the world. But hopefully in a year if my prescription stays the same, I will be able to get lasik. The trouble is, I still use glasses every once and a while. And well, my glasses are like 10 years old. It's time for an upgrade.

And so, of course I bought a Groupon to Standard Optical. $50 for $180 of lenses.

So, today I finally traveled up to Bountiful and starting trying on glasses. I narrowed it down to two options:

Option 1:

Option 2:

Yea, you can't really tell the difference in the pictures. But I chose the 2nd option. They just fit better. The price was not listed on the tag and so I asked the friendly sales lady how much they cost.

$299.

For reals? Damn you Vera Wang and your expensive frames!!!!

I told the lady I would think about it and come back. The thing is, I can't justify spending that much money on a pair of glasses I will rarely wear. I might go to Costco and see what they have. Because if they don't have any that I like, I can always buy a ginormous box of Gushers and call it a day.

Natalie exercises. That's big!

2011-02-18T09:09:00.001-07:00

On Sunday, while celebrating my father's birthday, Jinny cornered me and threatened me that if I didn't blog soon, she was going to disown me as a grandchild. She is serious about this blog. Maybe more serious than I am. But, at least I have one loyal fan. So I took this threat very seriously and starting brainstorming things that I could blog about. I thought about posting a video I took of Ava that night, but my phone hates me and won't upload it to YouTube. So that idea is out.

I then thought about blogging about recent date stories. But I haven't gone an any horrible dates lately...so that is out of the picture.

And then I realized that I actually have something to blog about. And it's going to shock you. You're going to read this and be all, "what the what??? Did someone or something posses our dear Natalie?" And my friends, something has.

And that something....is pilates.

Yes, you read that right. Pilates. As in a form of EXERCISE!!!!!

I bought a pass for 40 reformer pilates classes. Yes, 40. As in, I will be working out AT LEAST 40 times in the next 8 months (I say 8 months because the pass expires in 8 months). And for all of those that don't realize the severity of this purchase, let me tell you that I think in the past 10 YEARS I have maybe worked out a total of 40 times. So, pretty much this is like a groundbreaking breakthrough in the life of Natalie.

For reals.

And as of Monday of this week, I thought I was going to die. Who knew you could work your inner thigh muscles so much that you physically cannot walk? But shockingly enough, I love it so much. 2011 will now forever go down as the year that I started working out regularly. This is big.

My day of 3 dates. I'm totally wanted....or something like that.

2011-02-03T21:37:00.003-07:00

A couple of weekends ago I subjected myself to one of my singles ward activities that make me kind of embarrassed to be mormon. It was a progressive dinner. The progressive dinner was a night where each person had three dates. One date picked the girl up and brought her to the ward, then everyone switched dates and ate dinner with date #2. Then, everyone switched again and date #3 took you home. So, I just like to tell people I had three dates in one day. it sounds better that way and makes me sound less desperate.

Ok, whatever. It was actually fun. But, I did make each of my dates take pictures with me so I could blog about it. I am kind of bossy that way.

So, Date #1 was Isaish. He was adorable and super funny. But I am pretty sure I ruined it by telling him my old boss told me I should never date a boy that drives a dodge truck and that they are all d-bags. And then 10 minutes later I noticed I was actually in HIS DODGE TRUCK. Shit. I felt awesome.

My date #2 was Andy. He was cute as well. I am pretty sure I ate more than him, which could potentially be a problem. And maybe that is why he didn't get my number. I'll blame it on that. And not on the fact that I made him take 2 pictures because he didn't smile with his teeth in the first picture. I'm not bossy at all.

Date #3 was Matt. Now he's just plain adorable. Lucky for me he was my take home date. I was really happy about this because I don't think I could have handled an awkward doorstep scene. And actually, my way of avoiding that potential awkwardness was to invite him in my house. Which of course he graciously accepted. Maybe he thought I was going to put out. And did I? Guess you'll never know.

I wish I could have crafted this story into something awkward and horrible, but it was actually a pretty fun night.

Shoes have feelings too.

2011-01-13T23:32:00.002-07:00

I will have you know, that while Christmas shopping this year I only bought myself two presents. And that my friends, was a miracle. Normally I am all, "one present for you, four presents for me". It's been a serious problem in the past. But this year I tried to scale back. Yay for me!

The first present I bought myself is probably my favorite. My friend Megan who works for Hip & Humble, posted this purse on Facebook one day. I just happened to be going into the store that night to do a little shopping. And before I knew what was happening, I had a lovely yellow purse dangling from my arm. Meg informed me that the purse was in high demand ever since the Facebook post. Luckily, I was the one who got to the store first. I bought that sucker within 10 minutes of being in the store.

Merry Christmas to me!

The next present I got for myself was actually not a present for me at first. I bought it for a friend, but while wrapping it I decided I wanted it. So I kept it for myself and went back to the store the next day and purchased an identical piece for my friend. Selfish? Maybe. Smart? Definitely. Will she ever know? Probably not.

Dear Friend-I-purchased-a-gift-for-and-saved-it-for-myself,
Please don't hate me. You look stylish. And so do I.

Love,
Natalie

As for after christmas shopping, I have successfully purchased only one item for myself. And this one I had to go hunting for. Because when they arrived 3 days late and I knew they were sitting on my front porch, I emailed my friend Nicole and told her "my shoes were delivered today. They are sitting out in the cold. I am worried about them."

But when I got home they were safe and sound in their box on my porch. I put them on and they were more fabulous that I could have imagined.

Cheers to new shoes and a lovely purse. I didn't take a picture of the present I kept for myself. That will remain a mystery.

I'll take sleeping in a twin bed if it means I don't have to share my bottle with anyone else

2010-12-27T19:58:00.004-07:00

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas. I celebrated by hanging out with my family and not getting dressed until 4 pm on Christmas day. It was glorious.

I slept at my parents house and was banished to the twin bed in the basement, while my brother slept in his king bed in the next room. When I complained to a friend that I had to sleep in a twin bed, he asked why I didn't just sleep in the king with my brother. I told him that was disgusting. I draw the line somewhere. And sharing a bed with my 21 year old brother is that line. I don't care how big the bed is. I'll take a twin anytime.

Just before Christmas, I purchased myself a bottle of sparkling cider and put it in my fridge for enjoyment another time. And that time was tonight. For tonight I had cheese and wine for dinner. And by wine, I mean I drank my sparkling cider straight from the bottle.

Cheers to being able to not have to share my "wine" with anyone else.

Ava needs a cousin. I'll make it my resolution to give her one.

2010-12-15T17:29:00.006-07:00

Ava's 6 month birthday is today. And yes, she is the cutest baby ever born. She will own that title until my first child is born. Until that blessed day comes, I only have pictures of Ava to show off. Here are her 6 month pictures Hailey had taken today.

I need someone to impregnate me fast so this little nugget can have a cousin. Got it! New Years Resolution #5: get pregnant.

New Years Resolution for anyone who is annoying: Stop being annoying

2010-12-14T20:49:00.005-07:00

Today, the following text message conversation happened between me and my friend Marianne:

Mari: New Year's Resolution #5: go to dinner with Natalie. You came in fifth after eat better, smell good every day, exercise, and get up before Gracie does. Hopefully with you as number 5, i can be at least 1 for 5 this year on resolutions.

Me: Best text I have gotten all day. Yes, you made my top 5 as well. Along with 1) Don't date emotionally dead men, 2) be nicer to people that are naturally annoying, 3) don't tell boys I only wash my hair 3 times a week and 4) exercise more than twice a year.

Mari: You are never gonna be nicer. And neither am I. Strike it from your list and bump me up to #4.

And that I did.

Now I just need to find a 5th resolution. This year I bagged the resolutions and started with a motto: Lots of Men in 2010. And well, I ruined that by dating someone for half the year. BLAST!

So, I'm back to resolutions. Because really, nothing catchy rhymes with 2011.

Dear 2011,

Please don't suck because nothing cool rhymes with you.

Love,
Natalie

Now maybe you will understand why I eat Wendy's so much.

2010-12-13T22:57:00.005-07:00

I know it is rather ridiculous that I haven't posted in a while. I'm pretty sure it is because all I want to do is come home from work and take a nap on my couch with my newly purchased electric blanket. I spend so much time with my blanket, I'm pretty sure I am having a relationship with it.

Sadly, I couldn't bring my electric blanket as my date to my work Christmas party. That would have just been weird. Instead I went solo because life is so much easier that way. I'm pretty sure having to bring a date to a work function is one of the more awkward situations on earth.

However, if I had brought a date, he would have been jealous. Because not only did my work give all the employees iPods, but they also made a ridiculous mix cd for everyone. Prior to the party, everyone had to turn in their favorite song from 2010. Needless to say, this cd has quite the range of music. However, I will never forget the Christmas of 2010 when I received a cd title:

Apparently this is a play off some movie that I have never seen. So the real meaning escapes me. But if you knew what the fridge at Agency X looked like, you would understand. And well, i'll give you a little sampling - the inside booklet to the case had pictures taken from our actual work fridge. Totally disgusting. Completely ridiculous. But utterly awesome.

And now you might understand why I eat out for every lunch.

Merry Christmas!

I'm moving

2010-11-24T10:50:00.002-07:00

Ok, I really am not moving. But when I have to come to work and spoon my spaceheater, I think something is seriously wrong with the state that I live in.

Be prepared for some anti-winter posts for the next 5 months.

It's not soup. It's gelato. Please don't drink it. I'm embarrassed.

2010-10-20T15:05:00.001-06:00

So this last week I actually let one of my dear dear friends set me up. However, I should have said no when she told me she didn't know him, but that he worked with one of her friends. A friend of a friend of a friend set up only means one thing. Bad news. It's like, "oh my gosh! I have a single friend. You have a single friend. Let's set them up because they are both single."

Note to self (again): These set ups don't work.

And let me say, that this wasn't horrible. But, definitely not a match. First of all, he lives in Ogden. The armpit of Utah. Yes, I am totally judgmental of people who live in Ogden. And I totally don't care. Plus, I don't want to date someone that lives 40 minutes away. Ok, I would maybe consider if the guy was really hot. MAYBE. And then I would just make him drive to my house all the time. That's how it should be anyway.

Whatever. I don't want to date someone from Ogden. End of that discussion.

So as I was saying, the date wasn't horrible. The guy was nice. We just went for ice cream. He suggested Jamba Juice, but I convinced him we should get gelato. His suggestion for Jamba Juice should have been the first red flag. Really? You want to meet at a louder than loud smoothie shop where we are going to have to yell over 10 blenders to have a conversation? Um, no.

Conversation was fine. I ended up feeling like I was interviewing him though because he really only talked when I asked him something. He wouldn't really respond with something that could end up evolving into a discussion. I kind of find humor in these types of dates. Because eventually I like to stop asking questions and let there be an awkward pause. Kind of like, "ok, i'm done. You're turn to try and make conversation".

When I really knew it wasn't going to work between us was when he tried slurping his melted gelato out of his cup. No shit. He really did. And it was awkward.

I heart my life.

Peeing on yourself is only adorable if you are a baby. Otherwise, you're just crazy

2010-10-12T22:48:00.003-06:00

Last night, I volunteered to babysit Ava so that my sister and Chandler could go be adults for a night. And by be adults I mean go to a movie without a screaming child in sight. And really, my goal in life is to become my nieces favorite, so I have to start early. So naturally, my volunteering was completely selfish.

I'm 100% convinced she loves me almost as much as her parents. And if I keep babysitting, I might even pass them for her favorite person. Ava LOVES to have her diaper changed. Like, loves it. She would be screaming at the top of her lungs, and the second you put her on her changing tables she gives you the biggest smile and does a little giggle. It's adorable.

I've gone a good solid 4 months without changing a dirty diaper of hers. In order for me to be her favorite, I am sure she wouldn't want me to see her mess her pants. She's a lady for goodness sake. But last night, she was overjoyed with herself and the mess she made in her pants. I had no choice was but to change her. Now that I think about it, it was a bonding experience for us.

However, for Ava, it wasn't enough of a bonding experience. For when she messed her pants AGAIN right before I put her down for bed, she gave me a run for my money. So imagine this. Ava's screaming at the top of her 4 month old lungs (which btw, are surprisingly strong) and so I put her down on the changing table and she immediately stops and gives me a big smile. Classic. I then proceed to change her diaper. I turn to grab some baby wipes and look back at Ava and she is now peeing all over the mat. AND, she looks very pleased with herself. She was totally all, "haha, I am so funny. Auntie Nat, clean it up."

She's such a little punk.

And I love her so much more for it.

She's kind of freaking awesome.

The obvious problem is my checking account has money in it.

2010-10-06T13:28:00.001-06:00

Last month I purchased a new phone. The HTC Incredible to be exact. I had been holding out hope that Verizon would get the iPhone, but I had enough people convince me that a droid was just as good, if not better than the iPhone. And so I purchased.

And I am in love.

But, it's a dangerous type of love you see. Because of the wonderful world that is technology, I have all these fabulous apps that allow me to purchase things at a touch of a button. DANGER. DANGER. I see the flashing lights. Yet, I can't turn away. Take for example, the app for Groupon. For just today, before I walked out the door for work, I had already purchased the Swedish Massage that they were offering. But come on, who would turn down a 60-minute Swedish massage for $35? Um, no one should. Or at least no one I want to be friends with.

Then there's the Amazon app. This is even more dangerous than the Groupon app. Because Amazon has EVERYTHING. Like, for reals, I purchased some boots off my app just 3 hours ago. As my friend Nicole once said, "you know's its a great day when the first thing you do before you get out of bed is purchase something off Amazon." Amen sista. Amen.

So, you see where this is going.

Natalie buys new phone. Natalie downloads awesome apps. Natalie becomes poor.

DANGER. DANGER.

However if you really think about it, I might be poor, but I will be relaxed and stylish.

So, anyone else have an app they want to recommend?

Singled Out, brought to you by My Awkward Life

2010-09-28T12:28:00.002-06:00

I know it's been ages since I last logged on to this blog. But believe you me, I had some really good excuses. Which, I am not actually going to go into, but they were some doozies.

Anyway. I'm back.

AND, so is my little brother Alex! Got home from his mission last week and it has been fabulous. Seriously, fabulous.

So among many reasons that are too much for this blog, I just have literally had nothing to write about. Until today. Because when I saw that my stake FHE activity was a speed dating activity, I knew I had to attend. And not because I might meet my future husband, but because I knew it was going to be horrible and I would have an awesome blog story. I did if for you, dear readers. I put myself in a completely awkward, horrible setting just so I could entertain the people around me. I'm just nice like that.

And let me tell you. The night did NOT disappoint. It was full of awkwardness and I loved every minute of it. When I first arrived at the stake center, the entire gym was packed with people and they were doing a version of Singled Out. Do we all remember this awesome show on MTV where Jenny McCarthy got her first start? Well I do. And i loved it. So after watching a round of awkward questions and couples getting together, I sauntered my way over to the speed dating. Because how great was this going to be? So great.

And let me tell you. It was awkward on many levels. The first guy I talked to I believe was probably gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but pretty sure he was. The next guy was sweating so bad I wanted to pull a tissue out of my purse and give it to him. The next guy was from Japan and pretty sure he didn't understand one word that came out of my mouth. The next guy, well, bless his heart had some issues. I noticed a hearing aid so I tried to talk as loud as I could. But when he would talk, I literally couldn't hear one word he said. I was like, "is he asking me a question or just talking about himself?" So I just nodded and acted interested. The last and final guy was super handsy. Like, all of sudden he is touching my leg and arm and I am all, "ok, dude, you didn't even ask my name - keep your hands on your side of the aisle".

So, speed dating came in at a total success.

They then did Singled Out again. And since I was just so happy with our speed dating turned out, I was determined to be picked to be one of the 3 girls they interview. They had all the girls in the room stand. Then they starting asking questions and if you had/hadn't done the question they asked, you had to sit down. Well, by some magical force, every since question asked worked in my favor. I didn't have to lie. Some questions were "If you own your own set of golf clubs, stay standing". Check, own golf clubs. "Have you ever been skinny dipping, if you have stay standing". Check, gone skinny dipping. And before you know it, I am on stage relishing in the awkwardness and the great way this night is going.

The "bachelor" came out and he is hidden behind a partition where he can't see us and we can't see him. He then proceeds to ask us questions that we all have to answer. One question was "what is your ideal vacation". The first two girls answered something totally lame and boring. So, I had to do something to pull out the big win. And so I said, "Well, anywhere that has a beach where I can bring the golf clubs that I own and I can go skinny dipping." Pretty sure that right there is what won it for me. And yes, this was a church function and my stake president was present. I'm sure I'll be asked to meet with him soon.

Surprisingly, the bachelor was completely hot. We were escorted over to a "private area" to chat. What would have made it more fun is if they stuck us in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven. But that didn't happen. I could have taught him a few things, because this hot boy was still a boy. A baby actually. Has 3 semesters left in his undergrad....then on to med school. And as much as I would love to be someone's sugar mama and put them through school for the next 10 years, not sure if this was really a match made in heaven. We'll see, though.

And to close off the night, I made my friend Madison go take a picture of him. Purely for the purpose of this blog. Thank you, I hope you have enjoyed the awkwardness that is my life.

I told you I would jinx it. Seriously.

2010-08-09T18:27:00.006-06:00

You know what sucks?

Posting about how great your birthday was with your boyfriend, and then breaking up with him 2 days later.

Yep. That sucks.

Want to know what makes it a little better?

Having another boy take you to shoot guns to "blow off steam".

I promise, I wasn't pretending to shoot at anyone specific.

When I am able to pick myself up off the ground, I am sure I will have some horrible date stories to blog about. Until then, my faithful readers, you will have to endure posts about how adorable my niece is. Because she is.

For now, I can't eat. However, I believe it is blessing from the break up gods ensuring I will be skinny and hot for the next boy.

Figureatively and literally, there were fireworks.

2010-07-28T17:38:00.005-06:00

With my birthday being last week, I am still trying to get over the shock of turning 28. I do NOT like that number. I feel really old. And if you are older than me, don't for a second think you can comment and tell me that I am young. Let me complain just for a bit, mmky?!

So yada yada yada, I am not a big birthday person. However, that doesn't mean I didn't have high expectations to what Justin was going to do for me. He had asked me numerous times what I wanted to do for my birthday but all I told him was that he could just surprise me. Little did he know I knew EXACTLY what I wanted. Que evil laugh (mmmwwahhh!!) I wanted him to take me to The Paris Bistro. A darling little french bistro on 15th and 15th that I have been dying to go to. They have this wonderful patio with twinkle lights, lovely white table clothes, small candles on the tables, just everything fancy. It WAS where I was going to spend my 28th birthday. Justin needed to just figure it out.

I concocted this whole plan for my roommate to slyly tell Justin he should take me there. But that opportunity never presented itself. My birthday was getting closer and closer and Justin was not picking up on my telepathy. Blast.

And so, I did what every woman eventually ends up doing. I told him exactly what I wanted. I gave up on my whole Justin-knows-me-so-well-he-will-totally-remember-that-one-time-we-drove-by-the-Paris-and-I-told-him-I-wanted-to-go-there thinking and just told him what I wanted. Man, it was hard. I just wanted him to know what I was thinking. Is that so wrong? Seriously, is it? IS IT??!!

Ok, I am not yelling. I promise.

So, July 21st comes. The blessed day of my birth. My doorbell rings and Justin is standing on my porch smiling. I smile back and then am immediately distracted by what he is holding in his hand. No, it's not flowers. It was this:

My present. Wrapped in Transformers wrapping paper. Apparently, I am a 12 year old boy. When I asked him why Transformers wrapping paper he explained, "it was this or something pink. And I couldn't buy something pink." Noted.

I opened the card and was touched by his cute message and the LOVELY gift certificate for a mani/pedi (yes, he knows me well) that was inside. It was then time to open the Transformers package. And what was inside you might ask?

Fireworks.

I do not lie.

Now, before you starting thinking my boyfriend thinks he is dating a 12 year old boy, let me explain. Two weeks earlier I had been complaining that we didn't have fireworks in Bear Lake. And all I wanted was to light off fireworks. Well, I mean someone else light off fireworks but for me to sit in a blanket and watch them. So cute, thoughtful Justin bought me fireworks that we could light off that coming weekend.

Seriously. He's the best.

And then he took me to the Paris.

And then he made out with me.

My birthday pretty much rocked.

This way he won't get me confused with his other girlfriend

2010-07-12T15:41:00.002-06:00

Back when Justin first got my number, he didn't know me very well. He got my number at [gasp!] church. Yes, you did just read that right. Think of every lame joke that has been made about LDS singles wards and apply it right there. I'm over it. Whatever.

So, when he got my number he put me in as "Natalie from church". No, I did not know this at the time. Because FOR SURE I wouldn't have let that slide. I would have reminded him of my last name and make him put heart emoticons after my name. Ok, I wouldn't. That totally would have scared him off. Truth be told, I didn't know he put me in his phone as "Natalie from church" until we had been dating about 2 months. I asked him why it was still listed as that and his response was typical. "Um, I just have never changed it."

Typical boy.

So I asked him, "do you know my last name?" He promptly answered correctly and I gave him a kiss for passing the test. First test in a relationship, MUST KNOW GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIENDS LAST NAME. Whew! Glad he passed that one.

So, fast-forward 4 months to this last Friday night. We're at a restaurant waiting for our food and I happen to be playing with Justin's 1990s phone. I can barely figure out how the stupid thing works, but somehow, I manage to make it to his contact list. And low and behold, this is what I see:

Dating 6 months and I am still "Natalie from Church". I told him I was going to change it immediately. But then, I just thought it was funny. And so I kept it.

However, I'll quiz him every once and a while to make sure he remembers my last name.

It's almost like she had the hiccups because my sister fed her soda. That would have been cool.

2010-06-29T12:49:00.002-06:00

I promise one day, in the very near future, I will post something other than my ADORABLE niece. Because, I do have a great story about how Justin and I had a deal going for 2 months that we wouldn't drink soda. And well, if you read my blog here, here or here, you know that I fail miserably at quitting soda. Anyway, that story is in the works.

Until then, I will post this video of Ava I took when she was merely 4 days old. AND when she had the hiccups. Not a lie, I have watched this video no less that 50 times. She sounds like a mouse. And I think it is the cutest thing ever.

Enjoy.

I might be poor, but at least my niece will be well dressed

2010-06-18T23:56:00.006-06:00

In my last post when I said I wanted to quit my job and just hang out with this adorable baby all day, I wasn't kidding. Because seriously if I could, I would.

But alas, if I quit my job I would be able to buy zebra print outfits for her like this:

I am REALLY hoping that zebra print dress will fit her. She is just itty, bitty. Case in point:

When she fell asleep on me like this, my cold heart melted:

And this is her putting up a debate on me leaving. She's already realizing that she can pretty much do anything and I will bend over backwards for her.

Favorite Auntie Award goes to Natalie

2010-06-16T17:55:00.004-06:00

After 9 long months of Hailey being prego - she finally popped out the most adorable, teeny, tiny baby.

May I introduce Ava (middle name undecided) Bello

Born: June 15, 2010
Time: 6:30pm-ish
Weight: 5 lb 12 oz (TEENY!!!)

Honestly, I just want to cuddle with her all day. ALL. DAY. I'm half tempted to quit my job, move back in with my parents (to mooch off them, of course) and then hang out with this adorable pumpkin all day.

Look how fab Hailey looks have being in labor for 10 hours!

And of course, here is Ava with her favorite auntie.

I'll teach her all the important things in life: 1) Humor 2) Clothes and 3) Boys. I won't let her know that I really don't know anything about those 3 things, but I'll buy her things to make her love me. I am not beneath buying her affection. Not at all.

The Great Flood of 2010

2010-05-23T16:51:00.003-06:00

As I type this post, I hear the constant noise of a carpet fan drying my basement carpet.

Visual:

My house smells like mildew and must and all I want is for it to go away. This whole big mess, which I will now title The Great Flood of 2010, all began on Tuesday when the basement toilet started overflowing. Luckily I was in my room when I started to hear the overflow of water. I bolted upstairs for the one toilet plunger in my house and immediately called my dad to find out what to do. He instructed me how to turn off the water to the toilet. Done. That was easy.

However, then he told me to lift off the top of the toilet to start diagnosing the problem and it was then that I knew I was over my head. And then I remembered something. Something so important that I almost didn't care that all my nice towels were being ruined because they were on the floor trying to stop the water from entering the hallway. Justin was coming over, and for those that don't know me, Justin is my boyfriend and the fact that I am actually typing that out on this blog is kind of a big deal. I don't blog about dating unless it's a hysterical story and I am no longer going to see said date again. Blogging about boyfriends to me means one of two things; 1) people will start asking a billion questions about our relationship and I won't want to answer any of them or 2) I'll jinx my relationship and we'll break up next week.

I hope neither of those happen because of this post.

Anyway, back to the story. Justin has mentioned to me numerous times that he is "handy". And by handy I don't mean "handsy", I mean handy and that he can actually fix things. As much as I like to tout that I don't need a man, I actually do. And so when he told me this, I said to him, "One day I'll test this. And our relationship will hang in the balance." I think he kind of believed me when I told him that, too. He's a smart man.

So as my dad is trying to tell me to lift the "bubble thing" and check the drain I hear the doorbell ring. I interrupt him and say, "Justin's here. And he tells me he is handy. This is his test, Dad. Pray that he passes and can fix my toilet. Otherwise, we're in trouble."

And low and behold, he passed the test. With flying colors. For when we realized that it wasn't just the toilet that was the problem, but the main drain line to our house that was clogged, he spent the next 1.5 hours helping me clean up the mess that had happened in our entire basement. And then he took me to McDonalds for ice cream.

Truly a man after my own heart.

Maybe I'll train to be a firewoman. Or mechanic. I can't quite decide

2010-05-17T19:16:00.005-06:00

Yes. I am alive.

Some people have asked me if I died. Those were some hard conversations. Maybe not for me, but for those that asked me if I was ever going to blog again. For when I said, "i have nothing to blog about" people didn't believe me.

And they have good reason. I do have things to blog about, but sadly my blog is coming in low on my priority list. I feel a little like I have abandoned part of my life.

And so, in my attempt to get myself back into blogging, I will post this picture from a recent work trip I went on:

The image embodies everything that makes a day work trip to the middle of Wyoming completely worth it

1) Random ride on a old school firetruck. Check
2) Getting to wear a gross, probably lice infected fire hat. Check
3) Having a cool client who had the original idea to take a picture. Check
4) Chubby mechanic getting in the picture. Check AND Check.

If I were to tell you the story behind how we ended up on a firetruck, I'd have to kill you. Just take it for what it's worth and know I have some cool clients.

Love for McDonalds spreads across many generations

2010-04-28T19:26:00.003-06:00

Last week it was Jinny's birthday. I will not reveal her age. A lady never does. In fact, she told me that instead of getting older, she is getting younger. So I guess I could tell her age. I am thinking she is approximately 35.

She's such a young, hip grandma.

Anyway, so I was wondering what I could get her for her birthday after she declared that she didn't want any presents. And then it came to me. It came to me like a beacon shining in the night.

Jinny LOVES french fries. And chocolate shakes. FROM MCDONALDS. Seriously, it's almost like my mom wasn't adopted because I'm convinced my grandma and I share the same blood.

I'm pretty sure with this present I earned the title as her favorite grandchild. I mean, who wouldn't?

The craft was fun, but I still like reality tv better.

2010-04-08T16:02:00.005-06:00

It happened. I did a craft. ALL. BY. MYSELF. This is a day to celebrate. For sure. I'm all about other people being crafty and talented and me being all, "oh, I like that. I'll buy that from you." I don't know, I just feel like I can spend my time doing other things. You know, things like watching reality tv or getting a pedicure. Really important things, of course.

Anyway, I did my craft. And guess what, it actually was easy. The hardest part was hanging the damn things on my wall. And before you ask, of course there were a few cuss words spoken while attempting to hang them on my wall, but I was all by myself so I am pretty sure the cuss words don't count. At least that is what I tell myself. It helps me sleep at night. And it makes my mom feel better, too. She always tells me it's not very lady like to cuss.

Man, she never misses an opportunity to parent. Even when I am 27. Well done, Mom. Well done.

As promised, I took step-by-step pictures of the event. Correction, EPIC event. I mean, I had to prove somehow that I made these myself.

tools needed: fabric, canvas board, staple gun, adhesive spray, pencil and scissors

I used the pencil to mark on the back of the fabric where I wanted to lay the board. I then sprayed the board with adhesive spray and placed the board on the fabric. Then I stretched and pressed out the any air bubbles on the front of the board. I then cut the fabric so I could wrap it easily over the edges of the board. Then I folded over the edges and used the staple gun to secure it down.

And voila! Finished piece.

I did 6 boards to complete the look. I can't look at them too closely or I'll see all the imperfections. But for my first craft performed all by myself, I think I did a pretty good job.

I'll now watch an extra episode of Millionaire Matchmaker to make up for lost time.

The money I saved on my ticket went to churros and coca-cola classics

2010-03-29T19:42:00.006-06:00

This past weekend I went to Disneyland. And I drove there. And I didn't take any vacation days off work. So pretty much I did a total of about 20 hours of driving over the course of about 56 hours. And for the record, I wanted to fly. But alas, I was not planning this trip and so I was forced, against my will mind you, to not have an opinion.

I didn't decide when we were leaving. I didn't know where we were staying. I didn't know what time we were coming home. Seriously, I don't remember that last time I gave up all form of control and went with the flow. Of course I had my fair share of freaks outs because I had no idea what was going on. But once those past, I kind of liked letting someone else worry about the details. In fact, I really liked it.

Previous to leaving, my friend Diania told me to buy my tickets to Disneyland on Ebay. I thought this was odd, but she told me that she has had success twice with purchasing that way. And so I found 2 tickets for $110. Score. Only catch, you have to pick them up at a random office down the street from Disneyland.

When I told my friend J* that I purchased our tickets on Ebay and that we would have to pick them up when we got there, he was convinced we were going to get shot. I think his exact words were, "So we're picking them up in a dark alley? Yea, we're going to get killed." I assured him this was safe and that I was saving us money. And just in case, I would bring my taser as a precaution.

So when we pulled up to the building and all it said was TICKETS on the front, he pushed me out of the car and said, "good luck woman. Don't get blood on my ticket." Wow, he is such a gentleman.

Wait, he is a gentleman. He came with me. He didn't want to have to drive home alone. So we walk up to the front door and it says, "Go To Back Door". I look at J* and smile, but I pulled out my taser just in case. And as you can see by the fact that I am actually posting today, that we made it out alive. In fact, it was the easiest transaction we could have made. No line to wait in. No crazy people pushing to get ahead of me. Just a friendly guy and his wife selling us tickets from a legit and successful business.**

Best decision I made that trip. Well, I take that back. Best decision was to sing I'm a Little Tea Pot to the Disneyland workers to let our group get into the FastPass line for Space Mountain. Yes, that was the best decision.

I'll give you one picture from the trip. Only because it is the only picture I don't look like a hot mess in.

Wait, here's one more. I took a picture of the picture from Tower of Terror. I heart pictures where people's faces are distorted and look ridiculous. Plus, it shows the great joy that only happens in Disneyland.

**This business in fact is NOT illegal in California. Surprisingly enough.

Don't ask me to share. I'll say no.

2010-03-24T10:23:00.001-06:00

I love spring for many reasons. Mainly the warmer weather. But these little treats just might trump warm weather for Best Thing About Spring.

They will probably be gone by the end of the day. And I won't share with anyone. I'm selfish like that.

This craft requires spray glue and a staple gun. I can handle that.

2010-03-16T19:46:00.005-06:00

I have a client, who will remain nameless, that is a crafting company. They are one of my favorite clients to do work for even though I have no crafting abilities of my own. Because I myself am no crafter. Like, I have probably only been to the craft store 5 times in my entire life.

So when I called my mom the other day from a craft store, I could practically hear her falling off of her chair from shock. I told her I was lost and couldn't find my way home and that I somehow ended up at the Michaels down the street. Ok, that's a lie. But something weird did happen. I actually had the urge to do my own craft.

Weird.

It all happened when I looked at this blog and saw these adorable wall decorations.

Photo courtesy of thediydish.com

And lucky for me, I was meeting with the two creators of thediydish.com blog that afternoon. So I asked them how they made these. And guess what, it's super easy. Well, it sounds super easy. I haven't made them yet. But when I do, I'll follow up with a post giving you minute by minute details of the event. Because it WILL be an event. Natalie Does Her Own Craft Event 2010.

It will be epic.

I love my husband

2010-03-05T15:22:00.001-07:00

Last night I went to get a massage. I heart massages. I don't get them nearly as often as I should. Mainly because I can always think of somewhere else to spend $100+ dollars. However, when my coworker Nicole told me about Healing Mountain Massage School, my life changed. I've been to The College of Massage Therapy before and couldn't handle the florescent lights and the gigantic room separated by sheets. I just couldn't relax. However, Healing Mountain has individual rooms just like a real spa (I like to pretend). AND you can have a recently licensed massage therapist give you a massage instead of a student. AND it's only $35. Where do I sign?

Once coworker Nicole told me about this, I immediately emailed roommate Nicole and told her I was scheduling massages for both of us. Among our many similarities is the fact that we love to pamper ourselves. So I scheduled the massages and then made a paper chain to count down the days until our massages.

So yesterday came. The Day of the Massage. There were no more paper chains to tear off and I was excited. I emailed Nicole and asked if she was as excited as I was. And well, she forgot. SHE FORGOT ABOUT THE MASSAGE! How that is possible I don't know? Well I do know. She is becoming a grown up and buying her own condo. She's leaving me in the process and I am denial about the whole thing.

Anyway. She forgot and was double booked and couldn't get out of her other plans. And the wonderful and lovely friend that she is called and paid for my massage because she felt so bad. Who does that? Seriously? I need more friends like her.

So I walk into the school/spa and go to the receptionist to give her my name. And this was our conversation:

Me: Hi, I'm Natalie. I have a 7:00 appointment.
Receptionist: Oh ok let me check. It looks like your husband already paid for you, tip included, so you can just leave right after you are done.

and without skipping a beat I replied:

Oh! Isn't that sweet? My husband is the best. He always does these little surprises for me.

Imaginary husbands are the best! Aren't they?

My mom can now say she is proud of my choices.

2010-03-01T09:03:00.004-07:00

When I was about 13 I started wearing bikinis. I was one of THOSE Mormon girls. You know, the ones that wore immodest swimsuits. Penel was none too pleased. However, she gave up the right to have an opinion on my wardrobe choices when she made me buy my own clothes. She might have immediately regretted that decision, but she didn't show it. Well played, Mom. Well played.

So, since I was 13 I have never owned a modest swimsuit. Just call me a hooker. It's ok. I've been called worse. That's 14 years of immodesty every summer. It's been great. However, the time always come during the summer that I feel like people judge me on my barely there swimsuits. Which is fine because I do know that I should wear items that are more modest. You should all note this moment because it is not often that I admit to wrong doing. March 1st, 2010 will go down in history as the day Natalie said she is wrong.

This does not mean I will burn all my bikinis in some weird cleansing ritual. No way. No how. However, I have decided that there might be times that I need to cover up. So the other night I attended a little open house for some darling swimsuits that are modest AND cute. Who knew?! My childhood neighbor married a darling girl who was sick of not being able to find cute swimsuits that were modest. So, she started making her own. And low and beyond it's turned into a fabulous little business.

And because I couldn't just choose one, I bought two new suits. Pretty cute, huh? All the swimsuits fit perfectly. It is kind of amazing. Now I just need it to be summer.

I'll wear these when I need to look like I always dress modestly. I'll fool everyone.

The children will learn very valuable things when they spend time with auntie nat

2010-02-16T22:34:00.008-07:00

As much as I would love to do an entire post on how fabulous my trip to Mexico was, I'll spare you. Not because I don't love to make people hate me, but because a trip recap post is the last thing I want to do. And, probably the last thing you really want to read.

However, I will transcribe two of my favorite conversations that happened while in Mexico in hopes that this will appease my 10 readers.

Hannah (my niece): Natalie, are you going to get married soon?
Me: I don't know sweetie. I have to find someone to date first.
Hannah: Oh. (seeming very disappointed)
Parker (my nephew): But didn't you have a date with someone the night before we came here?
Me: Yes I did. But that was only one date. I have to go on lots and lots of dates with one person before I can get married.
Parker: Like 100 dates?
Me: Yes, like 100 dates.
Hannah: Wow, that's a lot.
Parker: Good luck with that.

Ok, Parker really didn't say the last line. He's only 5 and hasn't quite mastered such quick wit. I'll do my due diligence as an auntie and teach him how to be a smart ass. He'll love me so much.

And at dinner:

Me: Jinny, how was your day today?
Jinny: Marvelous. I didn't do a damn thing.

Like grandmother, like granddaughter.

k. I guess I can post some pictures.

Hello Vacation, I have missed you.

2010-02-05T13:45:00.001-07:00

Remember when I was -55 hours for my vacation time with work? Well, that was rough. I was told I couldn't take vacation until Christmas. And let me remind you, I was told that in June. That was 6 months of not taking one single day for myself. It was rough.

But I made it.

Barely.

When I went to turn my Vacation Responder on today, this is what I saw:

I think this is a record for longest stretch between vacations. I hope I never achieve it again.

And so now, I'm off to Mexico. I'll see you all in a week. And, I'll be tanner than you.

Soon, the Dallas Cowboy fans will hate me instead of Jessica Simpson.

2010-02-01T13:22:00.004-07:00

While in Dallas for work this last weekend, my boss and I were able to get some really important business done. And by important business, I mean taking a tour of Dallas Cowboy Stadium.

This is me visiting my new boyfriends locker. He's kind of a big deal. Jessica Simpson has nothing on me.

This is me catching a game winning touchdown.

This is me taking a picture of the cheerleader locker room. Clearly, a room full of mirrors is not enough for these girls. They need a life size picture of themselves above their locker to remind them how hot they are.

I apologize for the lack of posts lately. Clearly, I have been doing very important things that have kept me from my blog. Next trip...off to Cheyenne on the private jet. I leave tomorrow. I have cool clients.

Luckily, I can keep my drivers license.

2010-01-25T23:42:00.002-07:00

I find this wildly appropriate

Created by Auto Insurance

I got a 67%. That's a D+. I'm screwed if I ever have to take the driving test again.

It's almost like I have a whole new wardrobe. Almost.

2010-01-19T22:08:00.004-07:00

Remember when I moved to a bigger room in my tiny house back in the summer? The main reason for this move was so I could have a bigger closet. I heart my closet. Seriously I do. Sometimes I just want to sit in it and look at all my clothes. I don't do this of course. But sometimes I just want to. Just because I COULD sit in my closet.

Since moving I have noticed that maybe having a bigger closet isn't the best thing for me. You see, when I had this closet I was forced to keep it clean. Because if I didn't, then the door wouldn't close and people could see my mess. I'll all about hiding things. It's the appearance the really matters, right?

Ok, so small closet = clean closet. And if you know me you would then know that big closet = messy closet. And you would be correct. 100% correct. Hurricane Natalie came through about a month ago and unleashed her furry all over the closet. Clean clothes. Dirty clothes. Didn't matter. They were all on the floor in a big heaping pile. When I couldn't tell which clothes were clean and which were dirty, I pretty much just had to wash them all. Because smelling the armpits of an article of clothing to see if it is clean really isn't the best approach.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures. I performed an intervention on myself.

And so.... I did laundry.

Five loads of laundry to be exact. Five loads is a lot for one person. It took me 2 days to do it. And it took me 45 minutes to fold and organize it.

Things I learned during the 2 day laundry extravaganza:
1) If I leave clothes in the basket longer than 1 day after they are cleaned, they will never be put away
2) That I hate doing laundry
3) That if I hired someone to do my laundry, my life would be complete.

My taser might ruin your black leather trench coat. I'm just saying.

2010-01-13T11:15:00.002-07:00

It's inevitable in any LDS singles church setting there is going to be a guy that creeps all the girls out. Sad, but true. These guys are probably good guys, but there is just something about them that is creepy. It's usually the staring. That creeps girls out more than anything. Just a few weeks ago there was a guy that came to my singles ward that I remember from when I was 18. When I was 18 he had to be in his mid to late 20s. So what, that makes him mid to late 30s now? He should NOT be attending a singles ward for girls ranging from age 18 - 30. It's just wrong.

Anyway, this guy is definitely classified at a creeper. He came to my ward a few weeks ago and to make a really long story stort - he ended up stared at my friends the ENTIRE sacrament meeting. And it wasn't like he was sitting behind them. He was on their same row. And had to LEAN FORWARD to see them. Classic creeper.

He appeared the next week. But this time I noticed he was standing in the back of the chapel. He wasn't sitting down but just scoping the scene looking for a place to sit. He did this for 20 minutes. Sacrament had already started. Yet he stood there staring at people.

Definite creeper mentality. And sadly, it doesn't end with him.

Last night I attended an institute class. Don't know what institute is? Well, it's pretty much more church but in the middle of the week. As I walk in class, there is a man standing in the back of the room. He's wearing a long, black leather trench coat and a black hat. And not a baseball hat. A hat that men wore in the 60s. Like this:

Oh, and he wasn't sexy like Don from Mad Men.

Such a shame.

Anyway, so leather trench coat creeper is just standing in the back of the class as the classroom starts to fill up. At one point a guy turns around and asks leather trench coat creeper, "are you waiting for someone?" and LTCC (leather trench coat creeper) says, "No. I am just seeing where I want to sit."

Seriously, dude?! Seriously? This is why you get labeled a creeper. We all know you are waiting for the super hot girl to walk in and you are going to go sit by her. We all know your M.O. And you know what, it's not appreciated. Plus, you're wearing a trench coat. No good can come of wearing a trench coat.

Case in point, I may or may not be surrounded by creepers. I'll do my best to be nice. I can't promise anything. I mean, I do have a taser now. Don't make me use it.

Let's keep the children innocent. But only sort of.

2010-01-12T10:59:00.004-07:00

When I was a young girl, there were many movies that I watched over and over again. Still to this day I have fond memories of them. The obsession with movies really might have started with my Nutcracker kick as a young child. From the Nutcracker my tastes expanded to movies such as Teen Wolf, Dirty Dancing, Ghostbusters, Flashdance, Mannequin and Top Gun. I remember one day my parents taped over the sex scene in Top Gun. You know, to shield us children from the inapprorpriate. Yet for some reason they found no need to stop me from watching Dirty Dancing. A decision I have yet to ask them about.

We'll discuss at family dinner this Sunday.

Anyway, fast forward to 2010. Nicole and I share a Blockbuster Online pass together. Besides our mutual love for trashy reality tv, we have bonded over our love of movies. When she emailed me one day and told me that our queue was low and that I needed to add in movies, I took it upon my self to delve deep into my inner childhood. And what movie did I choose to add:

That's right. Wild Hearts Can't be Broken.

How great is my life right now? And if you haven't ever seen it, I suggest you do. It's awesome.

Bringing back The Flashback

2010-01-08T00:00:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have read Nat the Brat for a long time, you will recall the days that I did Flashback Fridays. These were fine days and I miss them dearly. However, I don't have a scanner and therefore can't scan old pictures. And so, Flashback Fridays died.

It was a sad day.

But today, today is a good day. It's good because my old childhood friend Morgan tagged me in this picture on Facebook:

I should be extremely embarrassed to post this picture of myself. Given, the motto for 2010 is "lots of men" and believe you me, I am not going to get any men if they see what I looked like 12 years ago. But really, what is a good post if I can't make myself look like a fool?

This picture was taken backstage at my first Olympus High Dance Company concert. In 1997 I hadn't quite discovered the hair straightener, an eyebrow waxer or any awareness of how I looked. Seriously, I love this picture so much because it completely captures what I looked like for the whole of my high school life.

I will note that in high school I LOVED button up shirts. I think I wore a button up pretty much every day. I am so glad that for whatever reason I found it necessary to put my button up shirt OVER my dance costume. Classic.

This will more than likely be the last Flashback Friday of 2010. That is, until someone else sends me an old picture of myself that I can mock endlessly.

My 2010 Motto

2009-12-31T09:57:00.002-07:00

As 2009 comes to a close, I have started wondering what 2010 holds for me. I'm certainly not looking forward to my high school 10 year reunion. Crap, I'm already depressed and 2010 hasn't even started.

And so, in an attempt to control 2010 I have given it a motto. This motto will be repeated in my mind each and every day of 2010. Well, at least like the first few days of January. We all know consistency is not one of my strengths. Unless that consistency is laziness, then I have that good and covered.

Anyway. Back to the motto. After much consideration 2010's motto will be:

Lots of Men in 2010

Catchy right? And well, "men" is the best thing that rhymed with "ten" so I think it really works.

I haven't quite figured out how 2010 will be filled with lots of men. That minor detail is the flaw in my plan. I've actually considered not being so ~~bitchy~~ ~~picky~~ ~~awkward~~ closed off and actually be open to people setting me up. It's definitely a possibility.

And so my friends, I say farewell to 2009. May 2010 bring you happiness and peace. And well, may it brings me lots of men.

Nothing says Christmas like The Nutcracker and a taser gun

2009-12-28T12:57:00.004-07:00

My new TV is amazing.

All I want to do is stay at home and watch it.

Probably not a good thing if I need to be social and meet people.

Maybe I will just invite people over to watch tv.

That could work.

Anyway, Christmas was fabulous. I pretty much did nothing all day but eat, watch movies and hang with the family. We did get to talk to little brother Alex on his mission. He is doing very well and talking to him made me miss him even more. But, in just 9 short months he will be home and my guilt trip of I-am-the-only-single-one-at-home-don't-you-feel-sorry-for-me is not going to work. I need to really milk that for all it's worth. I'll take it up a notch in 2010. Just you wait.

Santa did not send me a Man on a Shelf like I asked for. BUT, he did remind me that I have a very capable and loving father who helped me set up my TV. Thanks Dad!

Once the TV was set up, I immediately put in the best DVD I got for Christmas. Said DVD was this:

As a young young child, I was OBSESSED with this version of the Nutcracker: So obsessed that I actually had the whole thing memorized. According to my mother, I could be in another room and if I could hear the tv, I could tell you what was going on. Every time I see The Nutcracker on tv, I have to see if it is this very excellent version. Sadly, it never has been. But, who the freak cares now that I have it on DVD.

For all of you Sex & the City lovers out there, check out "the Russian" 30 years ago dancing with the oh so lovely, Gelsey Kirkland. Seriously, I heart this:

And just to top off my Christmas, Jinny did not disappoint when I opened up one of her presents and it was this:

Yep. It's a taser gun. Jinny was so concerned for me after this post, that she bought me a taser gun.

My life is now complete.

Dear Santa, make this happen.

2009-12-23T12:03:00.003-07:00

Dear Santa,
It was great to see you a couple of weeks ago and get my picture taken with you - that was fun. You didn't even try to grab my ass or say inappropriate things to me. Bonus! My gift to you in our picture together. I know you will frame it and put it next to your bed. Mrs. Claus might not be very happy about that though. So maybe just look at it and throw it away.

I know I didn't really ask you for much this year. In fact, I didn't really ask you for anything. I asked my parents for a bigger tv and I am 100% sure I got that. You know, because I went with my dad to buy it. But alas, I haven't asked you for anything. And well I think it might be time. I thought about asking you to send me a personal assistant to run all my errands. But then I realized that the excuse of "I have to run some errands" is a great excuse when I want to get out of something. You know, something like going to the gym. I really like the excuse of being so busy I can't go to the gym, so please don't send me a personal assistant.

You know, all my friends are talking about this Elf on a Shelf. Seems like a great idea. But I was thinking we could use something like that in normal, human life. So instead of an Elf that sits in my house, you send me a man that could do all my dirty work. Yes, I know the logistics of that could be a little difficult given the Elf thing isn't really real. But think about it. Really though, think about it.

Here is a list of all the things I need my Man on the Shelf to do for me:

1) Hook up my new tv that I get for Christmas
2) Kill all the spiders I find in my room
3) Shovel the snow on my sidewalk and driveway
4) Scrape my car in the morning if it is iced over
5) Give me massages when I am tired

I am really thinking this is a great idea. I know I am asking for this a little late so I hope you can pull something out of your hat.

Love,
Natalie

My arm might be dead, but at least my shirt doesn't have snot on it

2009-12-15T19:05:00.005-07:00

I had the sudden realization last night that I am not ready for motherhood. I know, I know. There are plenty of proper steps that need to be taken before I push a baby out of my vagina. You know, steps like dating a boy that I actually like. But whatever, those are small details.

But anyway. This sudden epiphany of Natalie-is-not-in-any-way-ready-to-be-a-mother came last night when I attended a Christmas social for a board I am on up at the U. Members of the board were welcomed to bring spouses and children and well, we all know how much I love Christmas parties where you get to bring a date. L.O.V.E Love them. Clearly, I'm bitter and should stop talking.

Instead of doing a dinner, we made care packages for a rest home and delivered them last night. Since the number of children clearly outnumbered the adults, I volunteered to help corral stray children. I noticed one spouse holding twin, one year old boys. And like the gracious person* that I am, I volunteered to hold one. The kid was wiggly and slobbery and had a perpetual running nose, but I just couldn't resist taking care of him.

However, this kid was a tank. Seriously, weighed as much as I do. How on earth was his mom holding both him AND his brother??! I am pretty sure her strength is one of those magical things that happens when a woman becomes a mother. And it was clear after about 30 minutes that I have no such magic powers. My arms were getting so tired that all I could do to take my mind off the pain was to make sure the snot running down the kids nose did not get on my shirt.

And when I finally gave the child back to his mom, my arm died and I had to cut it off. Ok, it didn't die, but HONEST TO GOODNESS I couldn't lift it up. Seriously, it was like someone had punched me in the arm and ran away laughing. And still now, 24 hours later my arm is still sore.

My props go out to all the moms out there who carry their children around with them all day. Your magic powers amaze me.

*gracious mean many things. I was gracious to help. BUT I was also gracious to give that child back after one brief hour. You see how this works?

My holidays have now consisted of one less anxiety ridden night

2009-12-14T21:53:00.002-07:00

There are few things in life that give me true, honest to goodness anxiety. 1 - haven't to pray in church. 2 - having to play Cranium (not a lie) and 3 - a work Christmas party.

Why oh why would a work Christmas party give me anxiety? Well, imagine you are single and you get an email with this line in it in November:

Please RSVP no later than December 1st stating if you will be attending and the name of your guest.

I bolded the part that gives me anxiety. Seriously, it's kind of the worst thing to have to deal with. The anxiety of bringing a date to a work function is almost more than I can handle.

And so this year I decided that I would attend the party alone. I am pretty sure this is the best decision I made in 2009. I mean, Agency X went snow tubing for our party. And we all know, I am no snow bunny. I looked ridiculous. I had make-up smeared down my face and my hair was matted to my head. Clearly, I was the most attractive employee Agency X has. I think they are very happy that they hired me.

And now, if I can figure out how to not ever play Cranium again, I will consider my life complete.

Tickle Fight!!!!!

2009-12-07T22:31:00.003-07:00

During the holidays, there are a list of movies that I have to see. Those movies are as follows: Love Actually, The Holiday, Elf, A Christmas Story, It's a Wonderful Life and Christmas Vacation. I've only watched Love Actually and The Holiday so far. I've got to get moving. Plus, I need to get in like 5 more viewings of Love Actually. It's my favorite movie of all time - yet I only allow myself to watch it between Thanksgiving and Christmas. And just a quick disclaimer: Love Actually is NOT a movie you watch with your parents. Love you Mom and Dad :) I'm still a good girl despite the fact that I watch rated R movies.

Anyway, the viewing of Elf was going to be taken care of when Nicole and I hosted an Elf Party last week. Who wouldn't want to come to a party with this as your invitation:

The party was a success despite the fact that we didn't even watch the movie. I think we were so excited about these awesome hats we purchased, we didn't even care.

Happy Holidays everyone!

Give me your panties

2009-12-06T21:29:00.002-07:00

The other day, my roommate Nicole emailed me an article that officially freaked me out. You can read the whole thing here, but if you are lazy like me here is a brief snippet:

Salt Lake City police are hoping you can help them track down a serial Peeping Tom who's started going one step further.

The latest victims are two college roommates.... Detective Pat Wilkinson says they got a very rude awakening around 5 a.m. Sunday, when one roommate heard some strange noises and the other realized she wasn't alone in her bedroom.

"[She] woke up to find him laying next to her bed," Wilkinson said. "When she woke up, he got up and left the residence, carrying one of her, uh, undergarments with him."

Um, HOLY &*^$!

Yea, that is the phrase that actually came out of my mouth when I read it. Except when it came out of my mouth it was the actual word and not symbols. However, that would be cool if symbols came out of my mouth every time I swore.

Anyway, this story only confirms the nightly ritual that I perform if I get home before any of my roommates. You see, I am TERRIFIED that a creeper has somehow entered my house while I am away. And well, I am also very afraid of entering a dark home all by myself. So, if I am so unlucky to get home while it's dark and no one is home, I grab the biggest kitchen knife I can find and I walk through my entire house. I open up closets, I look under beds and I scare the crap out of myself every time I do this. Because really, what the heck would I do IF a man was actually hiding in my house??

Whatever. I don't want to think about it.

This story only confirms that I should take my knife ritual one step further. I'll keep a knife under my pillow. Take that you sicko peeping tom!

The Thanksgiving that will go down in Harris family history

2009-11-29T22:30:00.005-07:00

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

2009-11-23T19:02:00.005-07:00

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

2009-11-22T23:03:00.005-07:00

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.

2009-11-15T20:23:00.004-07:00

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.

2009-11-10T19:57:00.004-07:00

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.

2009-11-03T20:31:00.008-07:00

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.

2009-11-03T18:32:00.004-07:00

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".

If you can't do anything for me, can you give me my money back?

2009-10-27T16:31:00.002-06:00

I'd like to thank all my wonderful friends who commented, emailed, called, and text me after hearing about my grandpa. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful and thoughtful people surrounding me.

In other news, I am sick today. I feared I had somehow manged to be infected with the swine flu... Oink! Oink! and so I called my mom because who else does a grown woman call when she is sick? My mother picked me up and took me to InstaCare where I was forced to put on a face mask and sit in the waiting room. In my sicken mental state, I didn't think to have my mother take a picture of me. It would have been a pretty one, I assure you. Next time I'm in distress I'll have someone take my picture so you too can witness my pain.

But the good news is, I don't have swine flu. Apparently, a mild case of bronchitis is what I have. Thank you doctor for telling me that you can't do anything for me. BUT, what you could do is give me back my $35 co-pay and I think we should be good. Mmmkay?

If only I was as talented as he...

2009-10-20T23:20:00.006-06:00

All day today I thought about how excited I was to write my next post. It was going to be great. It was going to be on the stupidity of how drunk people act in public and I even have videos to support my claim.

However, I now find that idea inappropriate and meaningless compared to the events that happened today in my family. I type post this with tears streaming down my face and a heart full of sorrow because my dear grandpa Doug left this world unexpectedly today.

My heart hurts for my mother, who lost her father. For my step-grandma who lost her husband. For my dear young cousin (shown above with Grandpa Doug) for losing the only father she ever knew.

Although my time spent with him over my life was not extensive, I still have found memories of him and man that he was. Let us not forget how just a few months ago, he tried to set me up with one of his friends. He was a very talented artist who saw the world and it's beauties in ways that I could only dream of.

As horrible and difficult as the next few months will be for my family, all I can think about is how my grandpa is in a much better place. I'll miss his crazy stories and the $25 bonds he would give us kids at Christmas. I'll miss him telling me "no, I can't give you a painting, I have to make a living somehow." But most of all, I'll just miss him.

Here are a couple of his wonderful paintings:

image courtesy of the Utah Arts Council

image courtesy of flickr.com

I'll see him one day again....and it will be a joyous reunion. We'll hug and cry and be overjoyed to be together again. It's then and only then will I get mad at him for not giving me a painting.

Who needs homemade when you have Great Harvest

2009-10-14T23:04:00.003-06:00

Last week, I went to hang out with my recently married from Brooke. She's totally one of those woman who would do anything for their husbands. You know, like get up at 4 am to make his lunch and send him out the door for work. Now that's love. One day, I hope to be as nice as her.

Anyway, while I was hanging out with her she was making homemade bread for her husband. Seriously, she amazes me. Her domestic skills impressed me and I realized that if I ever wanted to keep a man, I better start cooking.

And so, I immediately starting thinking that I should become domestic. It's not that I don't want to be domestic. I just don't have the patience or the skills to really own that title.

And so in my sudden urge to become Goddess of the Kitchen, I starting looking for recipes for pumpkin chocolate chip bread. Because you know, anything with chocolate chips is worth making. So I found a few recipes that looked pretty simple and I starting thinking to myself I would have a night in baking bread. Just call me Martha Stewart.

However, after looking at all the ingredients I would have purchase just to make some freaking bread, I decided that maybe making such a treat wouldn't be necessary. What was necessary was a trip to Great Harvest - where I could purchase a loaf of chocolaty pumpkin goodness and be instantly satisfied.

And that I did.

And yes, the loaf was gone by 5 pm this evening.

And it was delicious. I'll go back tomorrow for more. I suggest you do the same.

I'll also pick up a loaf for Brooke, repackage it like I made it, and drop it at her house. She'll never know the different.

If only this watch could assure safe driving in the snow

2009-10-12T10:10:00.002-06:00

I have been on the hunt for a gold watch for a few years. Yes, years. I'm kind of weird like that. I've had this vision of the perfect watch in my mind, yet never have found it. Go figure.

My coworker Sally also had an obsession with purchasing a gold watch. We bonded over our frustrations of lack of stylish, affordable gold watches. And then on one magical day, she got an email from OC Tanner saying that they were having a 40% Off Watches Sale at their outlet store. Who knew OC Tanner had an outlet store? I did not. And this is why I have friends like Sally -to educate me these important facts.

So we left work in the middle of the day because who can pass up 40% off already marked down prices. Well, and our server and internet was down so we couldn't do any work. The stars were aligning.

And looky what we found:

I look kind of pissed in this picture. That is because I realized I had on a silver necklace and a gold watch.

So pretty. AND a freaking steal.

I have now put myself on a spending freeze until I purchase new tires for my car. My tires are completely bald and I kind of fear for my life every time I get in my car. As lovely and nice as it is to have a new pretty watch, I won't be able to enjoy it if I am in a body cast.

This is why I don't allow myself to go grocery shopping

2009-10-06T15:54:00.000-06:00

The other day I went to the grocery store to get some ingredients to make cookies. And by get ingredients I mean pick up a package of pre-made cookie dough. I don't have the time to make homemade cookies. Or the patience.

Ok, so there I am with two big tubs* of cookie dough and a bunch of other random crap I really needed** and I notice this display at the end of my aisle.

These displays were created for people like me. The spontaneous/impulsive shopper. Yes, my arms might be full of groceries, but I will put them down to go back and pick up two large packages of Skittles and NEW Gummy Starbursts. That's right, I said NEW Gummy Starbursts. New products are my favorite. And they were gummies. I heart gummy candies.

I am also the type of person that gets in their car and opens up the delectable treat they just bought. I was half way through the package of my NEW Gummy Starbursts by the time I made the 0.5 mile drive back home. And you know what, they were delicious.

*I know you are wondering why I bought two tubs of cookie dough. And that answer is quite simple. One for the party I was attending that night and one just for me. Naturally.

**Spaghetti, cereal and bread count as necessities. It's pretty much all I eat. Well, that and raw cookie dough.

For all I know, the internet is just another way for me to meet another loser

2009-10-02T14:28:00.004-06:00

As I have blogged about here, Jinny is convinced that I am going to find my eternal companion via the internet. Specifically eHarmony. Not quite sure why she hasn't latched on to match.com, but that is not for me to understand. Anyway, I found particular joy in two comments I received on my last post:

After my good friend Marianne commented, I was 100% sure Jinny would be elated and concur with her. And like giving candy to a baby, Jinny commented. Sweet!!! Yes, that deserved 3 exclamation points. I was that happy about it.

I then told roommate Nicole about the exchange of comments and she sent me the following ecard today with a personal message of: "Because every time someone tells me I should try online dating, I die just a little bit inside."

This card made my day.

There is no right or wrong way to met a person. But online dating, it's just not for me.

Thank you. That is all.

I"m no lesbian, but after my last date I might consider it.*

2009-09-30T15:11:00.002-06:00

I feel a little sad that no one commented on my last post.

I guess that is what I get for not posting for nearly 2 weeks.

BUT, my good to honest excuse is that I had a really bad date two weeks ago that has seriously scarred me and I have no desire to be social or converse with people in general. Ok, maybe not that bad. But I am currently against men. They disgust me and I am convinced all single men are losers.

That sounds bitter, yes?

Well, tell me what you would do when a 33 year old male picks you up for a date 30 minutes late (strike 1) on a Friday night, only to take you to get ice cream (strike 2. Um, I like to eat. A lot. So please feed me) and then take you back to his house to watch a movie (strike 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9) where he then proceeds to practically force you to kiss him (strike 10 - 1000). Yep, you would be scarred too. Oh, and then to top it off, have him text you the next night at 11:50 pm asking "what are you doing?"

Good hell. I just turned into a booty call. Don't worry Dad, I ignored him.

Seriously, I haven't had this bad of a reaction to a date since I was like 20. I am actually physically repulsed by men right now. This date was just the icing on a very big cake of losers that I have met over the past few months. As much as I believe that all the single men left are losers, I have to be honest with myself and think that there must be something wrong with me if these are the only men I am attracting.

So, until I have done a full investigation on myself, I am taking a hiatus from men. I really think it's the best thing for all of us.

*I'm really not going to try lesbianism. Don't worry Mom. You'll get grand babies from me one day.

Just call me a seamstress, but don't ask me to sew anything without supervision

2009-09-15T18:19:00.006-06:00

So my friend Kristine is having a baby. I tried to convince her that she didn't want to have a child for a few more years, but she didn't take my advise. I know what you are thinking, "why would you not want your friend to have a baby?" Well people, when you are the only single one left out of all your friends you do whatever you can to keep things the way they are. And babies ruin everything.

Ok, they don't. Please don't hate me for saying that. I hear you judging me through my computer. But really, babies definitely change a person. And when that change makes them not relate to me, I don't really like it. Don't get me wrong, I love all my friends and their children. But the older we get, the more separated we are becoming. It's one of the parts of my life that does actually make me very sad. Not sad that I am not married or have children, but sad that I can see distance growing with friends of mine that I have had for over 10 years. Two different chapters in life, one not better than the other, but two different chapters nonetheless.

Well this post is becoming depressing. So let me get back on track.

I wanted to do something different for Kristine and her new baby. And so by some unforeseen reason, I thought I would make a quilt. And let it be said, I don't sew. Penel is an excellent seamstress. However, that talent was not bestowed upon me. But, I did get her Greek skin so I thank her for that.

Anyway, Penel loves to quilt and had a darling pattern for a baby quilt. The next thing I know I am buying fabric and asking the 80 year old lady behind the counter to cut me pieces in "fat quarters". I don't really know what that means. But she did. Apparently, I really need to read up on my fabric lingo. Also, as a side note - every time I go into a fabric store I have to pee. Why is this? Odd.

My mother was an angel and walked me through step-by-step what I needed to do. Cut here, iron here, pin here, sew here. I told her numerous times that sewing was not in my line of work - all the while hoping that she would volunteer to do the sewing for me. But she'd look at me, smile and say "you're doing great." Um, no Mom, that was not the correct answer. Let's try again.

Kidding. Sort of.

After about 100 mistakes (all of which Penel quickly fixed), 800 pricks by those damn pins and just a few (more) cuss words, I managed to finish the quilt. Well, almost finish. The backing, binding and actual hand quilting part still need to be done. All of which will be done by my mom. She's truly an angel. And well, she knew all that was beyond my capability.

Here's a picture of me with the almost finished quilt. I'll leave the totally finished piece for Kristine to be the first to see.

It really does pay to have a talented mother. Now, if I could just get her to cook all my meals for me we would really be in business.

My words were stolen. I feel violated.

2009-09-11T10:33:00.005-06:00

Yesterday, I received the following comment on one of my posts:

I think you're funny....
I don't know how I came across your blog...but I did...and I read it yesterday, and all day today...it's safe to say I didn't save any lives at work.....
I hope you're not creeped out!
The end!
I don't know why people would think I would be creeped out by them reading my blog. You do realize that my blog is on something called THE INTERNET. And it isn't private. So, I kind of expect people to read it. In fact, I love it when people who I don't know read my blog. It gives me some sort of weird validation. Plus, I'm totally narcissistic, but what about a blog isn't narcissistic? I also like people to tell me I am funny. Apparently, I need all sort of validation in my life.

I was interested in who this nice commenter was, so I linked to her blog to check her out. You know, that is what happens when you post comments on blogs. You can track these people. Thank you Internet. So, there I am reading her blog post from THAT day and I notice something strange. The intro paragraph to her post sounded really familiar. So familiar that I noticed that I WROTE IT. Freaking chick plagiarized me. WHO DOES THAT? Yes friends, I remember what I write. Even if it was 10 months ago. Or 2 years ago. I know my own writing when I see it. I use way to many commas and an English major probably cringes when they read my writing. But I write like I talk. So get over it.

My post original post can be viewed here

So, I immediately im'd my blogger friends to tell them of the crime. And my lovely friend Miranda didn't skip a beat in calling The Plagiarizer out on her felony. Is plagiarism a felony? It not, it should be.

Miranda's comment on The Plagiarizer's blog:

And just in case The Plagiarizer decided to change her post after reading Miranda's comment, I took a screen shot as evidence:

Now tell me friends, should I link to her blog so you can all leave comments? Or, should the shame of me posting this be enough to make her feel bad?

My message to The Plagiarizer:
Thank you for reading my blog. I sincerely appreciate your nice comment. However, please don't steal my words. You seem like a lovely person and when you blog, make it your own. After all, isn't that what a blog is for anyway?

A letter to no one.

2009-09-10T14:35:00.002-06:00

Dear Internet,

I am sure you have been very concerned about my whereabouts and why I haven't blogged. And well, I don't really have an excuse. Unless I can say I have writers block. Yes, I'll say that. I mean, I have starting writing like 10 different posts, all of which have sucked and I have deleted them. So there, I have writers block.

I am going to blame my lack of thinking/ideas/coherent thought on the fact that I accidentally* rented the 1st dvd in the Prison Break series a week ago and have been sucked into a whirlwind of television viewing that has rendered me completely useless. The show is amazing. You should rent it.

On another note, I signed up for the Utah Woman's Football Clinic. That's right. A football clinic. And no, I don't have to actually play football. No way in hell would i sign up for that. Physical exercise? I think not. Sitting in a chair and learning about football. Just my style. We had our first class last night. We met the coaches, toured the workout facilities, the Utah Hall of Fame and then watched film and learned about blitzes, screens and penalties. What? You don't know what those mean? Well, now I do. Next thing you know I am going to be kicking it with a cold one** and burping with the boys. I'm so going to get married now.

Love,
Natalie

*And by accidentally, I mean I was fully aware of what I was doing and didn't really care.
**And by cold one, I mean a glass of ice water. Remember, I am off the juice.

As good as it might be, Crystal Light is not as good as Coca-Cola

2009-09-02T17:13:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I had a coke during lunch and a Costco churro two hours later. You're all, "Natalie, that is nothing to blog about?" And I'm all, "That is a dangerous amount of sugar consumed in 2 short hours. So, it totally is." Because by 3:30 I was seriously considering crawling under my desk, curling up in the fetal position and taking a nap. But apparently that is frowned upon at Agency X. Who knew?

The time has yet again come to stop drinking coca cola. I know. You are probably thinking, "didn't you go off it like a year ago. Um, and like 3 months ago?" And to that I would say yes. Clearly, I have a problem with commitment.

This is where co-worker Jami enters. Like me, she is a coca cola addict. Her addiction comes in the form of Diet Coke. We've bonded over our trips to Wendy's for extra-large coca cola goodness and salty french fries. These are the kinds of friends I like. She also watches trashy reality tv. So, pretty much she is my best friend.

Anyway, we decided that together, we could kick our addiction. And just in case our "promise to not drink" didn't work, we have to pay each other $5 for every coke/diet coke we drink. Money bags I am not. So, no coke for me. Except for today at the Utah game. We both decided that was a freebie.

And as a substitute for our afternoon fixes, we made a pitcher of Raspberry Ice Crystal Light.

The liquid in this is in fact, Raspberry Ice Crystal Light

Wish us luck. Wait, wish me luck. Not her. I could use extra cash. Mama needs some new boots for winter.

Not coke. Sad.

This is why I love my parents

2009-08-27T16:17:00.007-06:00

Recently I stumbled upon a hilarious blog titled Oh Crap. My Parents Joined Facebook. I will call it OCMPJF for the purpose of this post. OCMPJF is a website where people can send screenshots of ridiculous posts/comments/messages that their parents have "facebooked" and those screenshots will be posted on the blog. Clearly, a brilliant idea.

Luckily for me, I cannot contribute to this blog because my parents think Facebook is a waste of time and have not joined. And I tell them they are right everyday. EVERYDAY. Because OCMPJF said it right when they said, "Family. Can't Facebook with 'em, can't unFriend 'em!"

After wetting myself from laughter from a good 30 minutes spent on this site, I noticed a frequent trend among parents and their posts on Facebook. Many comments are signed with their name, ie: "mom"/"dad". Clearly, no one has told them that a signature is not needed on such communications.

Case in point (from OCMPJF):

Laughing. Very. Hard.

Come to think about it, the signature doesn't stop there. Text messages with signatures are my favorite. Recently, a friend told me of the following text from her own mom, "Your father is teaching me how to text! love, mom." So sweet. So thoughtful. So hilarious.

Kim and Penel are actually pretty savvy and have mastered text messaging quite well. I mean, they do have a son that sent over 15,000 text messages in one month, so they quickly learned if they ever wanted to get a hold of him, they better learn to text.

And that they did. I do get an occasional "love, mom" salutation on my texts. And every time, I smile. Kind of reminds me of when my mom would make my lunches in elementary school and would write notes to me on the napkin. You know, stuff like "Have a great day. Love you, Mom" or "I love you. Mom". At the time I was mortified of such notes. But now, I think I would kind of like it.

I am going to request my mom send me text messages every day with such loving sayings. It will be known as The Sack Lunch Note of the 21st Century.

If McDonalds has it's way with me, my fortune won't come true

2009-08-25T18:00:00.004-06:00

The other day, I received a late birthday present from my friend. This is what she gave me:

I am pretty sure she knows me well. Anyone who will buy me a McDonalds gift card clearly knows my weakness. What makes this present even better is that The Biggest Loser is starting in just a few short weeks. And, do you remember my tradition? I'll use this gift card for the season premier.

If it's not McDonalds I am eating, it is most likely Pei Wei. About a month ago I got this fortune:
And yes, I did write the date on it. I also stuck it on my fridge. August 29th is just a few short days away. I'll let you know how it goes.

You got red flags? You want to go out?

2009-08-18T00:01:00.005-06:00

Yesterday, I was in deep discussion with a friend about a few certain men in our lives. We both shared the same belief that neither her, nor my crush are particularly good for us. But for some reason, we are drawn to these guys that we know don't fit the bill.

And so today, I sent her the following ecard to demonstrate our stupidity when it comes to men:

I told her I am not opposed to an intervention. Sometimes, I even demand it.

Natalie rage on Monday morning is never a good thing

2009-08-10T10:58:00.000-06:00

Dear SOB who broke into my car and stole my golf clubs,

You suck. That long string of profanities that existed my mouth this morning was directly solely at you. I hope Karma comes and kicks you in the face. But if I find you first, I won't be so nice.

Hate you,
Natalie

It's like being in People Magazine, but without the fame and fortune

2009-08-06T18:47:00.004-06:00

So, remember when I met Katherine Heigl? Well, I am 99% sure it was that two minute interaction which must have caused her to start stalking me. I know what you're thinking... isn't it the other way around? To that I would say no. Obviously, she was impressed by my unwashed hair and wrinkled pajama outfit. I mean, who wouldn't be? Right?

So, I meet Katherine. Yada yada yada. What's the big deal? Well, do you notice anything similar with these two pictures?

Katherine is totally copying my wardrobe. And who knew Katherine shopped at Express? She is really one with the people.

My coworker who took this picture really wanted me to do a "Who Wore it Best" bit here on my blog. So I ask you Internet friends, who wore it best?

I now understand why I didn't date much back then...

2009-08-03T19:30:00.003-06:00

Today, I renewed my passport. I am almost more excited about getting a new picture than I am the vacation I am going on. Because if your passport picture looked like this, you would understand. And yes, the quality sucks. I do realize that.

This by far is the worst picture I have ever taken. I can't even begin to tell you what is wrong with it. Well, I can. And I will. 1) The hair. Oh gosh, the hair. Flat iron and I had not yet become acquainted. We now have quite the love affair and I never leave home without him. 2) The eyebrows. Apparently I hadn't heard of plucking prior to the year 2000. 3) The earrings. Actually, the earrings were totally hip back in 2000. Who wouldn't want fake pear shaped diamonds hanging from their earlobes? And last but certainly not least, 4) the lipstick that matches the shirt.

I can't believe I actually walked out of the house looking like this. I'm so embarrassed for myself. You better believe the day my new passport comes, I will post a before and after shot. And then you will all see why I am glad I am 27, and not 17.

There is one benefit to not having sex

2009-07-31T11:24:00.005-06:00

The other day, roommate Nicole and I were flipping through channels trying to avoid going to bed. Sleep is good, but that means the next thing I know it is the next day and I have to get ready for the day. Getting ready is my least favorite part of the day. I wish I was one of those people that can role out of bed, brush through my hair, throw on the cleanest thing I can find and still look good. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people.

So there we are delaying the inevitable and BAM - we find our new favorite tv show; I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant.

Really? Really??

Quality television at it's best. Do not worry, our DVR is set to record ALL episodes. And just be warned all you people that have sex, just because you don't look pregnant and have no signs of pregnancy doesn't mean you won't end up in labor one night popping out a kid in your toilet. I'm just saying.

Next week, I'll bring one of those tin foil face tanners

2009-07-27T20:21:00.006-06:00

Since I was a baby, my summers have been spent up in Bear Lake. Jinny built her cabin back in the 70s. She wanted to feel outside when she was inside. And so naturally, the cabin is yellow. Like, bright yellow. It's like 24 hour sunlight. I usually have to warn people before they come up just so they aren't blinded by the brightness. I absolutely love it.

My favorite part of the cabin is all the different sun's that Jinny has placed around the cabin. When I was young, she had Hailey and me make clay suns, which she proudly placed on display. Clearly, I was not meant to be an artist:

With this one, I wanted my sun to be girl. So naturally, she has eyelashes:

Solid Advise

2009-07-26T20:05:00.005-06:00

Last year, Jinny gave me a great card for my birthday. And this year, she didn't disappoint. In fact, she one up'd herself:

My grandma is cool.

Much like Dooce, but without the ranking in Forbes

2009-07-22T00:38:00.003-06:00

If you don't read Dooce, I ask you to click here and read this post. And at the end of her post (which, when you read you will wet yourself from laughter), think of me saying those last three words. But instead of the number 26, replace it with 27.

And if I must spell this out for you, yesterday was my birthday. I turned 27. I got everything I dreamed of and more!

According to my shampoo schedule, I can work out 3 times a week

2009-07-16T22:44:00.002-06:00

So, my body is physically rejecting the idea of exercise. I threw up on my bike ride yesterday. I didn't fall, but I threw up. I am not sure which is worst. And remember when I did that really stupid thing in the winter and cross-country skied 4.5 miles up Millcreek canyon to the Yurt? Yea, threw up there too. OH and let us not remember that one time I threw up in spin class. I haven't blogged about this because I have tried to suppress that memory. It was like 6 years ago and I somehow managed to run out of the class and throw up in a garbage can in the middle of the gym. AWESOME.

I am 99% sure my body is screaming at me "EXERCISE IS NOT FOR YOU! I know you really want to keep up with your friends and all that physical activity that they do, but I just don't see it in the cards for you. Accept it and move on."

Surprisingly, I'm not ready to accept defeat just yet. Now I just need to plan my workouts around when I wash my hair and I should be good to go.

And if you think I am kidding with that last sentence, you don't know me very well.

One day, I hope to be in the black

2009-07-15T22:46:00.004-06:00

As of late, many people have asked me how on earth I have been able to take all my recent vacations. I've seriously wonder this myself. I mean, I did have to create a presentation that included charts and graphs, which I presented to my boss on why Agency X should let me go on a cruise AND Lake Powell within a month from each other- but besides that I am not sure. I must be pretty good at my job because they let me go on both. I was told that I would be chained to my desk after Lake Powell though. There's always a catch.

Maybe once a quarter Agency X gives each employee a little slip that lets them know what their PTO balance is. This act immediately prompts the great competition among employees on who has more vacation time. I have never won this competition. But today, I won for who has the least amount of vacation time:

You see that astounding NEGATIVE 55 hours? Yea, those were some good hours away from the office. At least our finance director gave me a smiley face on my slip. What is the purpose of this? Is she laughing at me? Is she happy that I wasn't here? Is she happy that I won't be able to leave this office for THE REST OF MY LIFE?

In my next review when I am asked what Agency X can to do improve I will tell them one thing: GIVE ME MORE PTO.

A stock worth investing in

2009-07-14T18:41:00.008-06:00

Remember when I went on a business trip and had to purchase an emergency outfit? Well, I do and I didn't particularly like the top I bought. And so I kept the tag on, wore it and then returned it. I hate people who do that.

Anyway, I returned said top and instead of walking out of the store with a $50 credit. Naturally, I walked out with a $10 credit and a new pair of shoes.

I next had to return a top I bought at Anthropologie (I never wore this one). I bought it without trying it on. A cardinal shopping sin. I ALWAYS try clothes on. However I was shopping with other people. This gives me anxiety. Am I holding them up? Are they holding me up? I am done with this store, are they done with this store? The list can go on. Shopping solo is how I role. Anyway I planned to walk out of Anthropologie with a $40 credit. By some unforseen force, I walked out -$158. Um, how did that happen? I'll show you:

And how cute will this go with my new brown flats?

Yes, I do realize I have a problem.

But before I finish this post and have Jinny lecture me that I should be investing my money I need to post a picture of a fabulous new lamp I just bought for my room. It's totally funky and totally NOT ME. However, the second I saw it I was all I HAVE TO HAVE THAT. And being the professional shopper that I am, I only paid $59 for this. Originally $200. Booyah!

Said lamp:

Oh and what would my rebuttal be to Jinny telling me to invest my money? I would be all, "Grandma, I AM investing. I am investing in me. Stock in me is pretty awesome". And she would agree. And then give me money.

My form of hate mail

2009-07-13T11:52:00.001-06:00

Dear Monday,
Why do you hate me so much? I mean, I really tried to prepare for you this week. I took a shower last night knowing that I would want to sleep in as much as I could to avoid waking up to you. You are never pleasant to wake up to. And today, was no exception.

First, you interrupted a good dream.
Second, you wouldn't let anyone get on the server at work until 10 am
Third, you made your standing meeting last not 20 minutes like usual, but a hour and a half
Fourth, you scheduled back to back meetings all afternoon.

Ok, well, maybe that last one was my responsibility, but because you have been so unpleasant today I am blaming you. If you could, just end now and let me forget about you. Please do not call, text or facebook me. I could really use the separation.

Lots of hate,
Natalie

I'll drink this right before church and not feel guilty about it

2009-07-11T16:53:00.001-06:00

So, one difficult thing about me being a Mo is my desire/lust/want/hope to drink coffee. In high school, there was a brief stint of time where I was obsessed with those Frappuccino drinks from Starbucks and would pretty much have one every day. SINNER! I hear you yelling at me.

Anyway, fast forward 10 years to adult, working, stressed, tired Natalie. She could really use that coffee. Well actually I would drink it for the delicious taste. I can live without the caffeine. But, I work with all non-Mo's. They all drink the coffee. My jealousy rages on a daily basis. That is, until I found this:

That's right friends, it's called Choffy. Brewed Chocolate. My life just got amazing.* Brewed just like coffee, but instead of ground coffee beans, it is ground coco beans. DELICIOUS. And frankly, an answer to my prayers.

*Direct quote from roommate Nicole when she was told that Choffy would be in our home.

The Great Bedroom Relocation of 2009

2009-07-09T23:27:00.007-06:00

You all know I am lazy, right? It's apparent in pretty much everything I do. Which, isn't much - so that should explain a lot. Almost 3 years ago to the day my old roommate Megan moved out. She had the nice big bedroom downstairs* with the large* closet and big bathroom. I was upstairs with my tiny bedroom, tiny closet and tiny bathroom. I thought about taking her room when she moved, but the thought of moving all my junk was too much for me to handle and so I stayed put. Laziness at it's finest.

This decision was probably one of the worst decisions I ever made. Because remember when I came down with Smallclosetasideous? Well I do. Note to self: Always ALWAYS take a bigger closet. Well, the day has come that the big room* opened up (which in-and-of itself is a whole other story. Thanks Mackenzi for getting engaged and leaving me. I might never forgive you).

Let it be called, The Great Bedroom Relocation of 2009. I had 15 days to move all my stuff....DOWNSTAIRS. I hear your judgment through my computer keys. You say; Really? It took you 15 days to move all your stuff? My answer to that is no. It took me 23.

I took a phased approach, which I have outlined below:

June 13th: Moved clothes on HANGERS down to new closet
June 14th: Moved bed, nightstand & toothbrush/toothpaste
June 16th: Moved dresser and bookshelf
This particular part of the move was sufficiently awkward. Kim & Penel offered their services in helping me move my heavy furniture. Yay for great parents. However, I also had a date this night. I tried to keep my parents away from meeting said date. I was not successful in this attempt to keep them out of my dating life. Date came. Met parents. I'm pretty sure this ultimately is why I am not dating him anymore. Blaming other people for the demise of my dating relationships is key to keeping my self-esteem in the positive.

June: 17 - 23: Moved remaining clothes from closet, shower and 1/2 of bathroom stuff (yes, just half), cleaned room.
July 5th: Moved remaining bathroom stuff.

I had so much unnecessary crap my roommates threatened to call me Pack Rat Nat. That is totally an unacceptable name, so I dejunked and my life is finally in order. Hell, if you are going to give me a nick name, make it something good. You know, something you wouldn't mind screaming over a large crowd. I don't know...something like, HUSSY! I'll get more dates that way.

A few pictures I took in the process:

This pile stayed in the room for a good week before I got off my lazy A and sorted through it.

My new digs:

*Big is relative. I live in a tiny house.

Technology is not my friend

2009-07-06T22:42:00.002-06:00

Agency X functions on instant messenger. It's pretty awesome. Pretty much I don't have to leave my desk all day. I can be as lazy as I want. Well, unless I want to go yell at someone for not doing their job THEN and only then do I leave my desk.

That's a lie. I don't yell.

Really, instant messaging is nice because sometimes I really don't want to get up and walk across the office to ask one little question. It saves time. It improves efficiency. It does, it really does.

I have one friend in particular that I chat with almost every day. She is one that I cannot respond to for hours and have her still like me. That is the thing about IM, I can only have friends on IM that know that sometimes, when I don't respond that means multi-tasking is not an option. It's very important to have these types of friends. Otherwise, I block you because you bug me too much while I am work.

Anyway, said friend is one of my very good friends and so I tell her all about my life. You know, things that I would never dream about putting on my blog or telling anyone other than her (and a few other choice friends). Recently, we were im'ing back and forth about our dating lives. Innocent enough, but too much for anyone other than her to read.

So you can imagine my surprise when I get to work today and a print out of OUR ENTIRE CONVERSATION is sitting on my desk. Shit. "Here you go office, here are my most personal thoughts. Please read them". I didn't even know I can print out conversations. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??? Now I begin to wonder, who the freak at my office knows all about my dating life? I am mortified and have decided not to tell details of my life again over something so fickle as instant messenger, ESPECIALLY at work. Lesson learned. Lesson learned the hard way.

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

2009-06-29T23:42:00.005-06:00

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

2009-06-18T23:27:00.006-06:00

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

2009-06-17T22:45:00.006-06:00

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

2009-06-10T18:03:00.006-06:00

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?

2009-06-08T19:21:00.008-06:00

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.