New Blog-title, blogites!

Note to anyone still waiting for honeymoon pics promised a month ago... please field all complaints to the iPhoto application that I can't figure out for the life of me... but I promise to keep trying.

Hello, blogites.

Remember how the name of my blog is "It's Only Me?" yeah, well... I got married and I'm working on things like "don't be so selfish" or "say your married name when you talk to people at work." To that end, I re-name my blog. (even though the NEW blog name isn't also a BareNaked Ladies song, and I thought that was the awesomest part.) Anyway, I'm not sold on the new blog-name (pretentious much?) so let me know if you have any ideas.


Alright... moving on...



GLEE! Did you see it? Do you love it? Are you inspired by the 80's motivational rock? "Don't stop believing! Hold on to that feeling!"

I loved it. For so many reasons. Obviously there is the love of anyone singing. (I might as well admit what many of you are probably suspecting anyway... I'm also a closet "High School Musical" (the first) fan.) Obviously there's the show choir. (and, yes, I was that nerd who LOVED show choir and didn't just do it for the California trip...) And obviously there's that heart-wrenching magical moment you sometimes get from watching musicals. Plus, it's just plain funny. (I laughed. So did my football-in-highschool husband.)

Here's why I didn't like it. Because I really was that nerd in high school. I am DAMN lucky I grew up with friendly people in Salt Lake, or I would have gotten cherry goo all over my face.




See that "L"? It stands for LOSER. Which was SO ME! The funny thing is, I thought I was SO cool. Soooooooo cool. But really, I was a head-bopping, jazz-hands making, Queen of Nerds. (Because when you're Queen of Nerds... you think you're cool, because you think you're cooler than some other nerds, but that still makes you a NERD!)

ooh, I wonder if they have Sour Patch Kids...

So never judge a dog because he's just a pup, he'll fight like 20 armies and he won't give up.

(sorry this took so long to post. I was waiting for some pics... and I never did get to the Metropolitan to take a pic of this... I'm sorry.)

In every post, there is an equal and opposite post. And to my last post, I give you THIS POST.

Last Saturday I was working. All day. Wasn't my favorite. But I took both my lunch and dinner hours together and went to the Metropolitan with my friends Beck, Jon, Crystal, Bridget and Eleni.



JON, Crystal, and Bridget (check out the biggest earrings I've ever seen...)



Eleni, Becks and Me. (as noted, this is what I look like when I am working all day. No judgement.)

It was so nice to be able to take time off from an all day and be a real person. Anywho, not the point. Here's the point... I am going to hell. Going straight to hell, do not pass purgatory, do not collect your worldly possessions to take...

So, while trying to flag down the very nice bread girl, I look over to the kitchen. It's a very nice, open-face kitchen with the food to go out to the tables put out just a few feet from our table. So, there's a man on the left... normal... I think he's a pastry chef. And then... there's a midget. That person is about 3 feet shorter than the pastry chef guy. And, as I am trying to be involved in the conversation and still try to stare at this midget I've found (just to make sure it IS a midget)... another midget walks over to where the first midget-girl is. OH. MY. GOSH. HOLY CRAP. A whole kitchen full of midgets/little people/shorties?

So my next step, obviously, is to tell everyone. I lean over to Becky and whisper "Becky... the kitchen is full of midgets." Becky starts to freak-out a little, because she's got a thing with midgets. Not a good thing, let me just say... And, right around the time, the whole table is saying "what are you two talking about? share with everyone" and everyone is saying "oh my gosh, I can't believe they have a height requirement to work here" Crystal notices something, and tells me about it. Apparently most of that kitchen (all of it but the part el pastry chef is on) is a sunken kitchen. They're normal sized people who just LOOK like midgets because of the guy next to them.

oooh... my... and that's even more hilarious.

And the best part is that we continued to whisper... as if they really were midgets and we were talking about them.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... I'm totally going to hell. But I haven't laughed so hard in months.

running up...

I don't remember a lot of my dreams, especially from years ago... but here is a dream I had when I was... maybe 8.


I was at the North Visitor's Center at Temple Square with my parents. I went downstairs to see the cool movie with the kid in the clubhouse and the kicking tree (this was before they turned his head into a TV screen...). And then (as is what so often happens in dreams) at the bottom of the escalator was a wall. Both escalators were going down, and I couldn't run fast enough to keep up with them. I would run as much as I could, stop to rest, and then run again... never making it to the top.

You may have heard me reference this dream in a Relief Society lesson I once gave, or talk about it if we've walked near those escalators. But today I brought it up because that is what I feel like.

I feel really happy sometimes. I'm incredibly glad to have Matt, and to be starting our lives together. (pictures of the ceremony/honeymoon to come shortly...) I feel like I'm racing through life, happy to be living it. And then I feel like huge waves of issues keep pounding me. Just when I'm almost to the top of the escalator (we'll call that "BLISS") something traumatic happens, and I am stunned... unable to move... and ride the escalator down. And just as I resolve to be okay with that issue, stop worrying, have faith and believe it's alright, I start running again... only to be hit again.

These things that come up are too tangable to say I'm just being dramatic. They don't come from one place, so I don't know how to block them. They're too lasting to tell myself to get over them and keep running. It feels like I'm being hit over the head and can't move.

It's not that I'm depressed, it's just that I have a lot of things going on in my life... and once one starts to resolve its self, another issue shows up.

So, to my husband: I'm sorry if sometimes I sit on the couch and zone out, or cry on your shirt and freak out.
to my mother: I'm sorry if I'm not peppy all the times we talk.
to my sisters: feel better.
to my brothers: I love you.
to my friends: I need you in my life.

And to the world: SERIOUSLY!?!? seriously.