tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45632568887393936422024-02-19T09:07:40.516-08:00something witty & fun:i know that you believe you understand what you think i said, but i'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what i meant.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-8567131428313409422013-09-24T20:45:00.003-07:002013-11-25T15:24:22.172-08:00What I wish I was great atA little while back, well 8 months ago, I posted a <a href="http://heidizip.blogspot.com/2013/01/way-more-than-30-things-my-kids-should.html" target="_blank">list of things</a> that would be fun to write down for posterity. My dad is turning 60 in two weeks and I just realize that, while I know a lot about him, there are a lot of funny stories that I don't know, and quirks I don't know the back story of, etc. So in an effort to not have that happen with my children, back to this list. I'm not doing them in order, so this is just the first that strikes my fancy.<br />
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So this one is to explain what I wish I was great at. Uh. Easy. Hip Hop Dancing. Like hands down. I religiously watch So You Think You Can Dance, which I affectionately call SYTYCD and I just wish I could hip hop dance. The other dancing is pretty, yeah, and makes people cry, but I really just want to be able to shake my hips. NOT in the twerking sense of the word, let's get that straight. But like, good, popping, hip hop dancing. I even took a class back when I was in Ann Arbor with a friend. A free community hip hop class. I only made it two classes before we both decided that we be too white for that. So... my dream died. But I still fake it along with SYTYCD and I occasionally have dreams when I'm a good dancer. I wish they were reality. It would complete me.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-55337767394617525012013-09-24T20:30:00.001-07:002013-09-24T20:37:49.297-07:0018 MonthsSo. I admit it. I've been a little of a failure at blogging recently. Well a little more than recently, we'll try the last two years. BUT! I would like to be better, because I would like to share more about my little baby's life with the people that I love and care about. Plus we all know my baby smarter than yo' baby! <br />
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But really though. Look at this little face:<br />
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Back on track though. I was thinking a good way to get back into this blogging this is to post little updates on our little family now and then!<br />
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So here we go. Since most of my life is about Ryan, and honestly the most changes, we'll begin with him.<br />
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My goodness the boy is 18 months old! That means he's started nursery at our church and, it took three weeks, but last week he went all by himself the whole time and had fun! The first few weeks he was good for about half the time then decided that it was a little risky and that other children are basically untrustworthy. But we're warming up to them and trying not to hit too much. Yeah, he's a hitter. But he mostly hits out of excitement so that makes it better right? He also loves to throw things. And if he gets angry he will, with forethought and calculation, look around for what he can throw that will do the most damage. Too smart for his own good. His grandma just told me today that he will now, knock over the kitchen chairs, drag one over to the kitchen counter, stand the chair back up, and then climb up on to the counter. I thought problem solving came later??? He loves animals, especially the many dogs and horses that are our immediate neighbors. He needs to feed the horses carrots quite often, he opens the fridge and gets the carrots out, then comes and grabs your hand to take you to the door. He has an array of animal noises, including the normal dog, cat and pig, and also, rabbits. He's just beginning (in the past few weeks) to talk a lot and he will mimic pretty much anything you say. He says lots of things pretty clearly, including drink and ba-ba, for bottle. He has also started saying "ow" which is about the cutest thing I have ever seen. He even makes a sad face when he says it. I'm going to film it but I haven't yet. He is the epitome of a wild child, very often making me tired just looking at him and watching him run around and yell and scream and wrestle with daddy. He is also fascinated with bugs. As you can see from the pictures he just loves them all. And as we have a situation bordering on plague status with all the grasshoppers around our house, he has lots of opportunities to pet them and chase them. And last but not least, he has mastered the fact that if he's too scared to touch something, grabbing mom's finger and having her touch it is an excellent litmus test for how dangerous it actually is.<br />
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Andrew and I are good, but just as boring as ever. We just go to work and go to school and chase Ryan around. But we're good! And really liking this marriage/family thing, most the time :). I've read so many of these articles that friends have posted on facebook about how to be happy, and you didn't really love your husband when you married him, and how to be the perfect parent. And basically I disagree with 80% of all them... But I don't post any of those opinions on facebook because I don't want my friends to hate me haha. If you want my opinion I'll always be happy to give it, especially on those three subjects... but let's not ruin a happy moment :). I'll just end with more pictures!!<br />
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<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-31289837505203944242013-01-15T11:15:00.002-08:002013-01-15T11:15:24.209-08:00I did something...So I did something today. But it started yesterday. Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.<br />
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First I (after being warned) tried to go up my parents driveway in the snow. Well it didn't work, I slid back down, hit my dad's gate post, and completely destroyed my side mirror. Like it's gone. Like "hey that's a pretty ghetto looking car" type of gone. It's very disappointing. What was more disappointing was my trepidation at telling my dad that I hit his gate post. Before you worry about my safety (because I did), the gate post has no damage. Like a scratch that's an inch long and that's it, kind of damage. But still, not a good way to start off the day. Then nothing was working correctly at work, and to top it all off my baby had to go to the doctor where we found out he had a mild case of croup and a double ear infection!<br />
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Anyway, not an awesome day. So today we went to Target where I got to spend my Christmas gift card on stuff only for me! Well. Here's where it gets iffy. First, I'm not a fashionable, bold person. I wish I was. I think about the outfits I would wear and how cute they would look, but I'm just not that brave. I'm the, 'showers faster than my husband', pulls my hair up every day, prefers black slimming shirts kind of a girl. But I took a chance. <br />
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I bought colored jeans. <br />
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They still have the tag on them though, so they could go back to the store. We'll see. I haven't even had the courage to try them on yet.<br />
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But in other news, my son, the extreme flirt, has a new method for reelin' in the ladies. When he's showing off he makes this face (dubbed by his father as his "sexy face"):<br />
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Who could resist this face?!</div>
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<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-29930631849453314472013-01-15T11:01:00.002-08:002013-09-24T20:46:24.442-07:00Way more than 30 Things my Kids should know about Me<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.65625px;">I like to read random blogs when I find them on Pinterest. One I found lately put into words my thoughts on why you keep a blog or why you write a journal (both of which I do, not with extreme regularity, but... that's not relevant). I write them as if my children or grandchildren or anyone would like to know about me later on down the road. I try to explain my motivations, talk only about the interesting things in life (sometimes haha) and share lessons I've learned. So I came across this list and I thought it was pretty good! It's 30 things that your kids should, or probably more likely, just might find interesting about me. I figured I would do a blog post for each one. But here's the list. Some look far more challenging than others... but it should be an interesting journey for me and whoever reads it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.65625px;">1. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.65625px;">List 20 random facts about yourself.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.65625px;">2. </span>Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.<br /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.65625px;">3. Describe your relationship with your spouse.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">4. List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">5. What are the 5 things that make you most happy right now?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">6. If you could have three wishes, what would you wish for?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">7. What is your dream job, and why?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">8. What are 5 passions you have?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">10. Describe your most embarrassing moment.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; line-height: 18.65625px;">12. Describe a typical day in your current life</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">13. What’s the hardest part of growing up?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">14. Describe 5 and weaknesses strengths you have.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">15. Describe when you knew your spouse was the one or how I fell in love.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">16. What are your 5 greatest accomplishments?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;"><a href="http://heidizip.blogspot.com/2013/09/what-i-wish-i-was-great-at.html">17.</a> What is the thing you most wish you were great at?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">18. What do you think your spouse loves most about you?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">19. How did you feel the moment you became a parent?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">20. Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">21. Describe your relationship with your parents.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">22. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">23. What’s your favorite holiday and why?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">24. What’s your favorite and least favorite thing about parenthood?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">25. If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be and what would you eat?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">26. What popular notion do you think the world has most wrong?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">27. What is your favorite part of your body and why?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">28. What’s your favorite quality in your spouse?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">29. What are your hopes and dreams for your prosperity?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">30. List 10 things you would hope to be remembered for.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #5a4f40; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.65625px;">I'll try and link to them when I finish each one!</span>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-27613177121296960662012-11-11T20:41:00.000-08:002013-11-25T15:24:41.600-08:00A Week(end) in the life of Ryan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
If you were to look in the window of my little life on any given Saturday (did you like that reference?) here is what you'd see:</div>
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First I have to amuse myself while mom and dad do something in the kitchen. Whatever it was it must have been important because they didn't notice me over here planning to use the oven. I almost made it too.</div>
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Come to find out they were making waffles!!! And they made me my very own little waffle. This is the first time I've had waffles.</div>
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They were pretty tasty!</div>
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After breakfast mom started some sewing project and completely ignored me. Well not enough to let me go out the doggy door but that's beside the point. So I just stood at the window watching the sleet come down. I thought it was hail but I was quickly corrected by grandpa and schooled in the difference between sleet and hail. Turns out it comes down to the shape of the particle. But that's a lesson for another day.</div>
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Then mom told me we needed to go to Costco. Initially I was resistant because I wasn't jazzed about going in the car seat. But once we got there I saw tons of people to watch. So as we walked around I could just sit back on my throne and observe. Pretty good subjects on a Saturday afternoon.</div>
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After we got home it was time to play with Daddy!! One of my favorite things to do.</div>
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I guess I tired him out though... I tried to wake him up but he was snoring.</div>
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Daddy tickles in his sleep though!! He got me totally unprepared.</div>
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Bath time - perhaps my favorite time of day - was especially good because I got bubble bath! AND TWO NEW DUCKIES!!</div>
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Then it was time for pj's, a story from my "boys only" storybook, scriptures, prayer, and bed. All in all a pretty quality day.</div>
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On Sunday morning there was this new stuff on the ground. Not sleet or hail, it was snow! Dad told me I'd seen it before but I don't remember. They put me down in it and I was baffled. Why was I here and what is this stuff on my hands?</div>
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Well then it got cold and that just wasn't cool!!</div>
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Then the rest of the day was just chillin' at church looking so handsome and yet relaxed at the same time. It's a hard balance to pull sometimes.</div>
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And there you have it!! Pretty cool huh?! You want my life.</div>
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(BTW this is me clapping obvi)</div>
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<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-91044845688114160692012-09-10T09:04:00.001-07:002012-09-10T09:05:06.111-07:00What's Really Important HereHave you ever really thought about the sheer magnitude of things you should be doing with your life? I know most people don't obsessively list like I do, but even then, there's lots of reminders about the many things you should be doing to enrich your obviously lacking life. Just take a look at pinterest sometime if you don't believe me. Fastest way to feel like an underachiever, trust me.<br />
<br />Here's just a sampling of the things that could be on the list: Maybe you have a job for ten hours a day, not including travel time. Maybe you don't have a "job" but you've got a gaggle of children at home to watch, ensure they eat, grow, learn, becoming functioning members of society (I fully subscribe that this is a job and would never assert that these people have "never worked a day in their lives" as some others might believe). Maybe you have both those things. Maybe... you want to lose that 75lbs of baby weight you gained when you had said gaggle of children (may or may not be an estimate of what I actually gained) so you want to work out at least once a month, give or take. You may have some aspirations of sleep every once in a while. You may also be taking graduate classes (although why is <em>BEYOND</em> me, psh PhD, who needs one). You may even have hobbies you would like to persue to stave off psychological breakdowns, for me this includes photography, crafting, hiking, and soccer. Other things that cross my mind occassionly are scripture study, prayer, writing in my/my son's journal, updating his baby book since he grows so fast, etc. ALSO there's actually playing with said son in the three hours he may be awake after I get home from work, talking to my husband, OH and cleaning my house! (Cleaning may sound superflous when in this context but it's actually something I really need for my sanity) Forget eating actual meals.<br />
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Also those stupid pins on pinterest of the six-pack-ab girl telling me that an hour workout is only 4% of my day. You know what I say to you? Nothing because I just punched you and my computer screen in the face.<br />
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Faced with this list, I think about the things I really want to do (after my bebe has gone to sleep of course): Watch So You Think You Can Dance and White Collar.<br />
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I'm sure there are people out there who are better at prioritizing then I am. They probably do all these things and think it's ridiculous that someone could even think this is a lot! Well to them I say, nothing. Good for you. But anyway, this is an incredibly long build up to the fact that I'm going to try and begin blogging regularly again. Maybe one day my children will want more from their childhood than their memories, my journal, their journal, and the probable millions of pictures I've taken of them. It's possible. I mean who knows, kids these days are never satisfied. (So many tangents on parenting that I could go off on here but I'm having a little self restraint).<br />
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Basically I look at this little mug every day:<br />
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And I feel a great need to do all of these things, and do them well, so that he can have everything he needs for the rest of time. No pressure.</div>
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Well here we go.</div>
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Cheers to reaching as high as possible! I think my high school motto for the year I graduated was, "Shoot for the stars, because even if you miss you land among stars." Or something equally cheesy. Here's to that :).</div>
Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-39774294684676034042012-04-03T12:07:00.000-07:002012-04-03T12:07:00.858-07:005 WeeksIt's strange being pregnant and then having a small baby because you measure you life in weeks. 15 weeks pregnant: you're out of the first trimester! 20 weeks: you can know the gender. 32 weeks: your baby would survive if born. 38 weeks: full term - have the baby already!<br />
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Then after they're born it's a weekly, almost daily change, in the things they can do. My baby sneezed 5 times in a row just now and then smiled at me. He's five weeks old yesterday and he's changed so much. And I take so many pictures I just need to share some :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyT9Kxxy5nDhYzJpZpGgbIyh4zhUiLQyAFfmIUK2GZuT6mhCvcsTI58pqTjRzMX3ca3rVgPXn_fc6k4IYc48t6SvxGFny9vdEFpQGvXCjVWkcmaxQsJx91SylxyGGROiWljhehZZL3yRk/s1600/DSC_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyT9Kxxy5nDhYzJpZpGgbIyh4zhUiLQyAFfmIUK2GZuT6mhCvcsTI58pqTjRzMX3ca3rVgPXn_fc6k4IYc48t6SvxGFny9vdEFpQGvXCjVWkcmaxQsJx91SylxyGGROiWljhehZZL3yRk/s320/DSC_0021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Three days old</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7SZSdJDjPSoEohwH7rnbus_gDSSjfwU3JWVr72HqA18T6e8vNDJorH2j5j5qwfWLEglO2gTNMoXycyfxlOlmqKBJ8T9YSimZhqth1m7FMV6zSe6reewweLprc2cncTvUL8Rygz1uezo/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7SZSdJDjPSoEohwH7rnbus_gDSSjfwU3JWVr72HqA18T6e8vNDJorH2j5j5qwfWLEglO2gTNMoXycyfxlOlmqKBJ8T9YSimZhqth1m7FMV6zSe6reewweLprc2cncTvUL8Rygz1uezo/s320/DSC_0073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Week and a half old</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEvw0E60uyfoK1-eBcoa7XndmtuGL6geSRj15mgnV0nD7lCRb_r3I9xOSM_8MUGPeAvhM7a3IkHK1o7s_1UjYobH55m9CrexUXsLfIQ9bPQjOGnIjCyr7P0IlgubODSwxjM94tkT4CIY/s1600/DSC_0141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEvw0E60uyfoK1-eBcoa7XndmtuGL6geSRj15mgnV0nD7lCRb_r3I9xOSM_8MUGPeAvhM7a3IkHK1o7s_1UjYobH55m9CrexUXsLfIQ9bPQjOGnIjCyr7P0IlgubODSwxjM94tkT4CIY/s320/DSC_0141.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Three weeks old</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIeBUR18NhIW882oYtTBQhwmqlsp2YogODvLDhnyjJ1e9q0KCfzOlAKi5BDdGnC8OEVDqYqYiwVihnhmap04h1MhynZMke2ERm8Yt51aKa8E6Y94Dy9QNP-kUdgfjfVNhMNUpDGxJfux0/s1600/DSC_0156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIeBUR18NhIW882oYtTBQhwmqlsp2YogODvLDhnyjJ1e9q0KCfzOlAKi5BDdGnC8OEVDqYqYiwVihnhmap04h1MhynZMke2ERm8Yt51aKa8E6Y94Dy9QNP-kUdgfjfVNhMNUpDGxJfux0/s320/DSC_0156.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One Month Old!! Look at that little belly :)</div><br />
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</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-64978757023537668462012-04-03T10:09:00.000-07:002012-04-03T10:11:38.426-07:00Pregnancy... better than winterI'll explain the title of this post in a minute, but first, WOW it has been a while since I've blogged. Not for lack of thinking about blogging, but somehow it just didn't happen. Anyway, some of the things that I did while I was away was; get married, graduate with my masters, move to a new state, and have a baby.<br />
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Really though what I wanted to talk about was a topic that everyone who has been talks about and yet no one talks about. Pregnancy.<br />
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First, my pregnancy was really pretty easy. I was sick for about 6 months but overall I was really healthy. The sickness brings me to my first point: Don't listen to anyone who tells you that they know what you can do to cure morning sickness. That's complete and total bull. You're different. Embrace being different and good luck finding your own cure.<br />
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My next point is about your legs. I'm sure everyone has seen those pinterest posts about how it's winter now (not right now but in the story...) and that means 4 months without shaving your legs. Let's try 8 months while you're pregnant. It's better than winter. Not that you don't want to, but at first it's being nauseous bending over, then by the end you can't bend over at all so it's just not happening. Better hope you have a husband who loves you (mine made fun of me).<br />
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Next: "Normal weight gain is 25-35 pounds." HA. BAHAHAHA. That is just designed to make you go into panic mode every time you visit the doctor and they weigh you.<br />
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Anyway, lots of things about pregnancy were not as advertised. But at least you get something cute at the end of it. Case and Point:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SU4N6qq3DdlHFw4LW7d67aOC21Donb-gXh1OHo6jtaqmfmrOGW00Y-8XIKT3P09JR0RbCnmt1vWYRhs0JT-XlZRuOhH31HpyINrvFW2HELWH9jF9aFCr4pMqMoRYf7WoqdO9eJa1AJA/s1600/Ryan+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SU4N6qq3DdlHFw4LW7d67aOC21Donb-gXh1OHo6jtaqmfmrOGW00Y-8XIKT3P09JR0RbCnmt1vWYRhs0JT-XlZRuOhH31HpyINrvFW2HELWH9jF9aFCr4pMqMoRYf7WoqdO9eJa1AJA/s400/Ryan+13.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-89528909908545653472011-06-21T14:32:00.000-07:002012-04-03T10:11:57.066-07:00Quotable QuotablesI just recently went to New York City and walked through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Guggenheim, and the Museum of Modern Art. There was a lot of art that I really loved, and a great deal of art that I really didn’t care for. Honestly I’m not a modern art person. I recognize that it is a big genre but I kind of feel that if I have enough talent to make a canvas of one solid color and just cut the corner off, then it shouldn’t be counted as art. I know that art is very much a personal preference but I have no talent for it so whenever there’s something that I could do… I don’t think of it as art. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thenorthwestreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/modern_art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="http://www.thenorthwestreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/modern_art.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><em><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I mean seriously?</span></em><br />
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But this is an aside to my thought about the whole art experience. All through these museums there were quotes from the artists. There was an entire Picasso exhibit in MoMA and next to every painting was a quote about it. <br />
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This got me thinking: <em>Are my thoughts quotable</em>?<br />
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I was talking to a friend of mine and she said that now sometimes she thinks in terms of blog posts. Like “this would be a great thing to blog about and the title would be…” After going to these museums I was taking pictures (my form of artistic expression) and I realized that while I take pictures I think to myself about what aspect of the picture I want to focus on, why I’m taking this specific picture, and what it all says to me. For example, on the way home from NYC I was on the airplane and the clouds were so fascinating. I took about 50 pictures just of the clouds while I was on the plane, trying to accent certain formations, and make sure I got all the different colors I could see. And I was having thoughts while I was doing it about how the clouds hold together, how it is different when we’re on the ground, and what it meant to me in terms of the Lord being everywhere and creating these beautiful things for me to see. And then I wondered whether anyone else would care to hear my thoughts? If I were to die a famous photographer (HA!) would there be anything interesting/fascinating/enlightening to put on my little quote tabs?<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Basically I have no idea. I mean I find my thoughts interesting, but that doesn’t speak for anyone else. And then we have the problem that inherently comes with observational scientific experimentation (proving a science theory through only observation); an environment is changed because it is being observed. You can never completely observe something without affecting it. Meaning, once I began wondering if my thoughts were profound enough, I started trying to think more profound thoughts about the pictures I was taking. It was so weird! Although I’m pretty sure my thoughts are still not good enough to go in a museum, it makes me wonder whether Picasso and Monet and these other artists thought about their thoughts before sharing them.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-89611021443161875572011-05-13T14:09:00.000-07:002011-05-13T14:20:25.942-07:00How well do you know me?My friend <a href="http://elizabethdownie.blogspot.com/">Elizabeth</a> recently did this test for all the people who read her blog where she listed 7 truths and 3 lies about herself to see how well people knew her. Well I thought that was a great idea, so I decided to do it. Hopefully the people who actually read this rambling thing will think it's interesting too....<br />
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It was kind of an interesting exercise in self reflection though to even figure out 7 things about myself. Because I of course could write I'm a girl which is true, but basically as boring as the socks I'm currently not wearing. So being the scientist I am, this was an experiment in Heidi-land.... and awaywego.<br />
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<ol><a href="http://foodbeast.com/content/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/cheesecake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="http://foodbeast.com/content/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/cheesecake.jpg" width="200" /></a>
<li>My favorite thing to do as a child was to climb trees.</li>
<li>History is my favorite subject in school.</li>
<li>I have been known to eat entire cheesecakes, rolls by the dozen, and bags of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.</li>
<li>I graduated Magna cum Laude from ASU.</li>
<li>My favorite activity is watching movies with friends.</li>
<li>I am an avid cake decorator, bead-er, and jewelry maker.</li>
<li>I have never lost a game of air hockey (I don't count games where the table cheats)</li>
<li>I am the youngest of four.</li>
<li>My favorite thing to take pictures of are people.</li>
<li>My favorite place to visit is Washington D.C. (am I supposed to put two periods here??)</li>
</ol><div><br />
</div><div>So there we go. Haha all the interesting things I could think of about myself.... Enjoy.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-78517967754558580702011-05-08T21:04:00.000-07:002011-05-08T21:04:30.494-07:00Mother-Lovin'!<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Do you like how I totes just psyched you out about what I was maybe going to start talking about? Like srsly were you freaked that I might start swearing and possibly be enraged?? Whew, well you can breath a sigh of relief because I'm not.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is in fact something quite the opposite of that. We were talking today in church about the qualities that make a good family (specifically qualities in our mothers) and also about charity and how the two intertwine. So I thought I would take justamoment to acknowledge the traits that the amazing women in my life have taught me to admire. This list of women begins first and foremost with my mother, but includes many other surrogate moms, sisters, and amazing friends.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">* One of the things I have always valued that my mother taught me to appreciate was the humor in all situations and how humor can enrich your life. Some of my favorite memories involve my family laughing together. It's helped us through a lot and has brought us much closer together. (ironically, while humor is valued greatly in my home, my sarcasm has often gone "too far" in my mother's eyes. Hence the ridiculosity at the beginning of this rambling :)</div><div style="text-align: center;">* My mother seems to have an unceasing amount of love for anyone she comes in contact with. She is giving with everything she has with anyone she brings into her circle. She so readily loves and cares and I admire that a lot. It's something I aspire to.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* From the very beginnings of my memory cleanliness, in all areas of my life, has been <strike>beaten</strike> instilled into me by both my parents. My dad was more dictatorial about this instillment but it was my mom who took the time to explain why it is in my best interest to be this way.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This Mother's Day list could go on for a while. I am very blessed by the women in my life, they are all amazing and I strive to be like them. They are all so supportive and their faith in me keeps me warm at night :).</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-85417651066856376252011-04-26T01:00:00.000-07:002011-04-25T23:03:16.739-07:00Oh I'm sorry, I forgot that you're special...<div style="text-align: center;">I'm going to be honest about this, I was having kind of a hard time at church yesterday. My mind was listening just enough to only catch onto the odd things that were said. Most these comments were offhand but my wandering mind caught on them and could not let go.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Whoa, okay that sounds truly terrible once I admit it. I was paying attention, I promise, my thoughts were even church related, they just were perhaps not on the topic the teacher was trying to present....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Anyway, my inattentiveness aside, one of the comments I heard and could not stop pondering was about the attitude of the people who watched Jesus grow up and could not accept that he was anything special. The comment was something along the lines of "they were so close to Him they forgot that he was special."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This got me thinking that we do this all the time with the people who are closest to us. For some reason we begin to take for granted the aspects that make a person special, unique, and amazing, and focus instead on the quirks that are nails on a chalkboard annoying. Ha. Well that's disappointing. "I'm sorry, I was so busy hating everything you do that I really did forget that you're special!" My bad....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So in that spirit, and the spirit of Easter and new beginnings I thought I'd say some things that I find truly special about the people I love. But I don't want anyone to get a big head here... so I'm not naming names about these special attributes. You're not that special. So if you know it's you, perfection, know that I love you. If you're not sure if it's you, assume it's you, feel special, and know that I love you. If you don't think any of them are actually about you, pick your favorite, and know that I love you :).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You can talk to anyone. Truly. I'm in awe of that. Because I'm awkward.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* I hope I get to be you when I grow up, because your pictures are amazing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* Do you really need to be right all the time? It's annoying but still the coolest thing ever.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You make me laugh, all the time.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You're on the crazy train often, but it teaches me how much you care about the things in your life, I hope I have half as much to care about.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You make everyone feel special, including me. I adore that immensely.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You enjoy having fun almost as much as me and are willing to go on any adventure with me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You know yourself so well, your confidence is inspiring.</div><div style="text-align: center;">* You persevered through harder times than I can imagine.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So many more things but I'm getting dangerously close to telling stories no one wants to hear. But I think a resolution to be less mindful of the annoying, and more observant of the special is definitely what I need in my life.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-76555558824513088892011-04-25T21:53:00.000-07:002011-04-25T21:56:13.271-07:00Remembering LentEaster has come and gone. And with it my Lent resolution to abstain from desserts, candy, and chocolate.<br />
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In some ways it was a really long forty days. But surprisingly it really wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Overall I was surprised at how well I could do without the things that truly, I do love. And truthfully I didn't cheat! There were some days that I had some dessert, but I justify this through my mini-Easters. (In real Lent, Sunday doesn't count towards your abstinence because it's a mini-Easter) And, many of my meals were chocolate mint protein bars but I don't count those as chocolate because I'm pretty sure everything about those bars are fake chemicals. I feel actually really proud of myself for sticking to it like I did. Although honestly that may have been in part because almost every one I know knew that I was doing this, so cheating would have involved going against the intense stubbornness my character is ingrained with. I was perhaps too open with this resolution... haha.<br />
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My most academic thought about the experience (are you ready for this) was my surprise at how often I was presented with this type of food. I really didn't realize how often I go to activities, friends cook, or I make myself desserts, have candy, or are eating chocolate. It was honestly almost every day that someone around me had the forbidden fruit as it were and offered it to me.<br />
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I also realized that I am WAY more picky than I like to tell myself I am. Haha it's much easier to refuse desserts, that honestly I don't like under normal circumstance, when I was "observing Lent". There really are a lot of things that I had NO problem giving up.<br />
<i>BUT....</i> on the other hand there were things that I realized I like a lot more than I like to tell myself I do. Seems to me there really is something to that whole "absence makes the heart grow fonder" thing.<br />
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Overall, it was a pretty cool experience and something I'm glad I did. I do need to thank Stephanie, for being SUCH a good friend and eating double helpings of everything we encountered just for me :). What a true friend.<br />
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And in case anyone was wondering I broke my fast with lovely, chocolately, fantastical brownies. My favorite.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.examiner.com/images/blog/EXID24837/images/brownies(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.examiner.com/images/blog/EXID24837/images/brownies(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-82239233777262308522011-04-17T21:57:00.000-07:002011-04-17T21:57:48.671-07:00The Location of My Marriage (aka The Henry Ford)<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Stop number two on my Dtown Bucket List was the Henry Ford Museum (and of course some eateries). </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">When we first got to the museum my friend Steph informed me that the last time she was there a wedding party was also there taking pictures and having a reception. Um.... can I please do that too? I mean how good does this pose look? Add in a wedding dress and a groom and heaven is complete.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Efe2sGh6J384S6ixtI93xAX2X6getywNBm_VloA2OIDZiGfG4OFXVBs8qylSD4SK2Tnk_r8e6GQfkQ9TLoEQNF_rekAGjNvxJVJbjI4ViFWbWM_1y4lMGhlfBM03YutwgjRbNJGUvm4/s1600/DSC_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Efe2sGh6J384S6ixtI93xAX2X6getywNBm_VloA2OIDZiGfG4OFXVBs8qylSD4SK2Tnk_r8e6GQfkQ9TLoEQNF_rekAGjNvxJVJbjI4ViFWbWM_1y4lMGhlfBM03YutwgjRbNJGUvm4/s320/DSC_0021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">After this revelation the museum was a haze of day-dreaming loveliness. I was so impressed by everything I saw. I regressed to nerdom in my head on many occasions but I loved all of it. There were so many cool things to see and look at. I was constantly impressed by how many things Henry Ford was involved in. He had a hand in everything honestly. And the sheer volume of exhibits in the museum reminded me so much of the Smithsonian museums in D.C. I was just soaking it all in. Here are some of the highlights.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Of course the cars must be involved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLR3-LhVamvZMUTOh0b6YIPGJ1s_nJNDttHOwhdu2lr-rhmp8n2FgoYksVPWCJ7ZMypMfIthlGDZ09y8PW3xsd0DNDK_39q88FX8hYqfos82cJD5U0OGGRTUvuvObx1OSN30LWRHPEeo/s1600/DSC_0029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLR3-LhVamvZMUTOh0b6YIPGJ1s_nJNDttHOwhdu2lr-rhmp8n2FgoYksVPWCJ7ZMypMfIthlGDZ09y8PW3xsd0DNDK_39q88FX8hYqfos82cJD5U0OGGRTUvuvObx1OSN30LWRHPEeo/s320/DSC_0029.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Rosa Parks bus.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfaPA5zKO1V_vywJp0cinXekbU6ZaT2LwqnhO9EHbvALdNE1ny_hdApoqE9wZBtV4K7NncA6s1rmNZUIIQiTrSzwFhjeN3OoF_Y_9s9S-62fw4FW9yTN8eXq5GtosREoN70cIBskoz0Q/s1600/DSC_0048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfaPA5zKO1V_vywJp0cinXekbU6ZaT2LwqnhO9EHbvALdNE1ny_hdApoqE9wZBtV4K7NncA6s1rmNZUIIQiTrSzwFhjeN3OoF_Y_9s9S-62fw4FW9yTN8eXq5GtosREoN70cIBskoz0Q/s320/DSC_0048.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And a fantastic car we got to actually hang out in :).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAyS7ka5bYk-trE5mKsfjHrkMSyQ-vKEn9wh33RbYyneSOT-M9kEr0y0Yvsvm7phVpwuIOOSgHRZazxNG251JAcoHpF9pa_tXivm3ZjpG_lBm2Mzxpg0SyL391kVAdXtDUs5mtyAumkE/s1600/DSC_0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAyS7ka5bYk-trE5mKsfjHrkMSyQ-vKEn9wh33RbYyneSOT-M9kEr0y0Yvsvm7phVpwuIOOSgHRZazxNG251JAcoHpF9pa_tXivm3ZjpG_lBm2Mzxpg0SyL391kVAdXtDUs5mtyAumkE/s320/DSC_0066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And last but not least my close to favorite picture of the day came from the Women's Rights exhibit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx90TwwyDQLwVIlOFZGRvKv7BABqKgMxLEhuiR1PndKWqABkvYLIl5TYc4NtbPXp33gB5TGKDxSu5s9aCK4pnUpRyRaD_9knd9IA7r03RRTUtUAwG7K3EhOc-a-GH0njhjlRgT4CyiZ6w/s1600/DSC_0051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx90TwwyDQLwVIlOFZGRvKv7BABqKgMxLEhuiR1PndKWqABkvYLIl5TYc4NtbPXp33gB5TGKDxSu5s9aCK4pnUpRyRaD_9knd9IA7r03RRTUtUAwG7K3EhOc-a-GH0njhjlRgT4CyiZ6w/s320/DSC_0051.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After the museum we went to eat at this awesome place called The Jolly Pumpkin.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtlWXFc8GmgzcdPJGn1yXwr8QdXgiXepX1CnbY-L3ihF2BNFcBURVl-jqXlziiVSapAPHktYrhuq3OgYBDkYAdGw5ffdqndTuLd7flR1rSE7VFtND94jr2rqQKNr0mniyvm_0N5NhjZY/s1600/Jolly+Pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtlWXFc8GmgzcdPJGn1yXwr8QdXgiXepX1CnbY-L3ihF2BNFcBURVl-jqXlziiVSapAPHktYrhuq3OgYBDkYAdGw5ffdqndTuLd7flR1rSE7VFtND94jr2rqQKNr0mniyvm_0N5NhjZY/s320/Jolly+Pumpkin.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can we just say amazing? It was such a fun place. The experience was only enhanced by the presence of Rosemary Truffle french fries. It. Was. Amazing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Such a fun birthday weekend!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_U9ZOcuo3sxdOQkAjrNT2eInGTht2Pc0llG5ypc2F9pbb9api0Paan1PvmZ4_BXyUBvcJJFsNK89xjmbMibOzFDrMtJ9JA5wRJWVkSDgjOw0HwZ02RASJJLU11CzSxIK1qqDIgLNLdE/s1600/Jolly+Pumpkin1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_U9ZOcuo3sxdOQkAjrNT2eInGTht2Pc0llG5ypc2F9pbb9api0Paan1PvmZ4_BXyUBvcJJFsNK89xjmbMibOzFDrMtJ9JA5wRJWVkSDgjOw0HwZ02RASJJLU11CzSxIK1qqDIgLNLdE/s320/Jolly+Pumpkin1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-56285247075532238032011-04-13T10:23:00.000-07:002011-04-13T10:23:39.520-07:00The Island of Lost Toys<b>*Warning, this post doesn't really have a point...*</b><br />
<br />
I can very vividly remember my mother telling me to clean my room often when I was younger. She would tell me it's that time of the week, and then she would leave my room and go back to whatever else she had to do around the house. As soon as her back was turned I would start cleaning (I was the perfect child). She would call down the hall probably an hour later asking if I was done and I would reply that my room was spotless. It was great. Never any problems.<br />
<br />
And then I would hear these words; "If I check under your bed is it going to be just as clean?"<br />
<br />
Uh, why don't you give me a little longer there mother dearest.... I totally <i>forgot</i> to check under my bed.<br />
<br />
Then she would come back and I would be SO proud that my room was clean. And as a bonus to being clean, it was organized! I put high value on being organized, even then, so I always felt an extra amount of accomplishment because everything was in its place. So I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when my beautiful, clean, ORGANIZED room received a barely passing grade in the eyes of my lovely mother.<br />
<br />
How on earth had she found fault in all the hard work I'd done?! <br />
<br />
Turns out, my organization skills fall into the category of "stacking" rather than the traditional "finding a place for everything". And even more shocking than that, according to anyone other than myself, stacking is not actually a legitimate form of organizing. Somehow I was floored by this revelation, and subsequent accusation, every single time it happened. I just could not accept that my way wasn't actually good enough for my mother the tyrant*.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to now and surprise surprise I'm still a stacker. I've gotten much better at organizing, and may have even come around to the idea that stacking isn't actually cleaning. But old habits die hard. I was thinking about this habit of mine the other day when I was contemplating the location of my ipod (it had been a while since I'd played angry birds). Shockingly, I tend to lose things. Not important things, just small ticket items like keys, passports, ipods, car registration.... Ugh I hate that word: 'lose'.... because I have trouble accepting that I've actually lost them. I found them ALL sooner or later, it just takes me a while sometimes. Whenever I share my woes about <i>misplacing</i> objects with my mother she invariably goes back to the issue that I am a "stacker" and not a "putter awayer". I 'organize' things in such a way that I don't have a prayer of finding anything until I go through them again to actually put them away.<br />
<br />
Ah the bitter sting of self-realization. After the initial defensiveness and my overwhelming desire to say "Nuh UH!", comes the let down and soul crushing acceptance that, yes, I lose things.<br />
<br />
This self analysis was brought on yesterday when I was cleaning my house (actual cleaning) and came across possibly my favorite pieces of paper in the world. Before I moved to Michigan my fam had a little pow wow where we all wrote 5 things we loved about each member of the family. So I have five pieces of paper telling me specific things my family loves about me. I have read them more times than I can count over the past two years and I am so grateful to have them. Now, they were <i>never</i> lost. I promise. I knew where they were the entire time. BUT, they were stacked in a very weird location. And as I came across them yesterday I had the thought, "these would serve me better if they weren't stacked right here, I should put them somewhere else."<br />
<br />
And it was then that it lightening hit me and I realized my mother had been right all along. Dang, I hate when that happens.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">*My mother was never a tyrant. I may have called her that once or twice when I was young and naive but I will forever be grateful for the skills she drilled into me when I was younger. Even if they include my own faults.</span>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-71298486389372494502011-03-23T09:36:00.000-07:002011-03-23T09:36:52.403-07:00Good Girls Go Where?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">They go to Paris. Did you know that? I sure didn't. I didn't even know there's a movie about it, but there is. The movie was made in 1939 (probably a key point in why I didn't know it was out there).</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">Jenny Swanson, a waitress on a college campus, is dying to visit Paris. Thanks to English professor Ronald Brooke, she manages to make her dream come true"</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">Sounds absolutely fascinating right? Maybe more so now that I've seen the movie poster hanging in the restaurant I went to on Saturday. The restaurant Good Girls Go To Paris. I was absolutely fascinated with the place. I loved the decor so much and the menu of 50 different kinds of fresh made crepes had me sold. This little outing marked the first thing on my Bucket List. Although this particular restaurant or the following activity weren't explicitly on the list, I think it all counts. And since it's my list, my rules.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSWZMh0hb1jWFr_di-mLBOKKTDuYSmnvVaF7gToyebpiMePx4HX-q7hxRD7jQe0fd109hVssOi0LDcRF5ANT0tlU12wOrgUCIw_dvNxbzYUD44pJWwX5Ezx9J4AibTYcrrk_O63mdBO0/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSWZMh0hb1jWFr_di-mLBOKKTDuYSmnvVaF7gToyebpiMePx4HX-q7hxRD7jQe0fd109hVssOi0LDcRF5ANT0tlU12wOrgUCIw_dvNxbzYUD44pJWwX5Ezx9J4AibTYcrrk_O63mdBO0/s320/DSC_0011.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How adorable is this place?! I loved it. And being there with my sister (who I loved having visit over the weekend) and 8 of my other friends, my Saturday was almost heavenly. But after stuffing my face with a crepe (that did not have anything sweet in it : ), we decided to go to....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">wait for it....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">a Roller Derby Match.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Um. Can my day get any more exciting?! The answer to that is definitely a NO!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had so much fun learning the rules of a match (I'd like to be a Jammer), and coming up with my own kick-a derby name (still in the works), and just generally watching the people who comes to these kinds of things. It. Was. Fascinating.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtChwNVZDqqHVu9QUVD6JyPXfMur4Fg_x7wIARCmbjx4hpGOlDJ0KFBEtPiVH7_9X65278BqyaZczSiAVa1KwYJJDl0iz_jLSjgJR5pStBOB2UIqbh1_xcJAd__jIpj1y-rw4jNfVUq_M/s1600/DSC_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtChwNVZDqqHVu9QUVD6JyPXfMur4Fg_x7wIARCmbjx4hpGOlDJ0KFBEtPiVH7_9X65278BqyaZczSiAVa1KwYJJDl0iz_jLSjgJR5pStBOB2UIqbh1_xcJAd__jIpj1y-rw4jNfVUq_M/s320/DSC_0024.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And spending time with this group of people is always a win. I would show the picture of how my hair would be, were I to be a derby girl, but I think Elizabeth might object as she's in the picture too : ).</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIacDOtjPgmG6Namdti85dQsyPKKYV_zQ5XxTCJCaZ1KC2RdF2s5uns9V96WTHbfSue_1hSGgi6aQ16XfZFxlEtiXT6DaXw-ZIq8LGBdcG_N5fyfGdct946ptjgGg15qDVoiY3xM9chk/s1600/DSC_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIacDOtjPgmG6Namdti85dQsyPKKYV_zQ5XxTCJCaZ1KC2RdF2s5uns9V96WTHbfSue_1hSGgi6aQ16XfZFxlEtiXT6DaXw-ZIq8LGBdcG_N5fyfGdct946ptjgGg15qDVoiY3xM9chk/s320/DSC_0035.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Overall, for my first Bucket List selection, it was fantastic. I can't wait for more.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></span></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-91120729719210968562011-03-08T23:18:00.000-08:002011-03-08T23:18:13.716-08:00Ready for Easter!<div style="text-align: center;">So, I'm not Catholic. I've been many times on Easter and Christmas but I've never adhered to the traditions such as Mardi Gras and Lent. That all changes this year : ).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This year I've decided to observe the tradition of Lent and give up all kinds of candy, chocolate, and cookies. I realize that 40 days is a long time, and those 40 days do include my birthday.... but I think I can do it! I'm going to put forth my best effort.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And in honor of the excess before the cutting off:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcRs04PSBeH0qU3rPytKrfzg9cb7SyEb_T2r4CvCF292wMbCOhUS23OyXmWTkq7pIl8rCFcT1AVHcb3_dB_FzlazjhI9f2elHH6EeE3UFp-SRsI4VEUhzEe_M2wGDKKisIs9K60tfjEQ/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcRs04PSBeH0qU3rPytKrfzg9cb7SyEb_T2r4CvCF292wMbCOhUS23OyXmWTkq7pIl8rCFcT1AVHcb3_dB_FzlazjhI9f2elHH6EeE3UFp-SRsI4VEUhzEe_M2wGDKKisIs9K60tfjEQ/s320/DSC_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">My favorite kinds of cookies. I made 24 and I've already eaten 10 of them. It's much easier to give something up when I feel sick just thinking about it : ). So here's to sugar, my impossible sweet tooth (that began early btw), and giving it all up for self improvement!</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-23846269799013221162011-02-14T23:54:00.000-08:002011-02-14T23:55:48.648-08:00Valentime<div style="text-align: center;">I know this may sound strange but I adore Valentine's Day. It is my favorite holiday. (Don't get me wrong Christmas is way up there but.) I cannot get enough of the adorable stuffed animals, all the hearts, and the flowers. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">If it wasn't more cliche than I can physically handle I would have bought myself flowers, but that is one step too far for me. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Next week maybe. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here's my philosophy: people in general, and myself specifically, don't share enough that they love the people around them. We get wrapped up in our lives and take what we have for granted. It's not that we don't realize the good people we have around us, more that we forget it's important to tell them that we appreciate and love them. Valentine's Day gives us the opportunity to share that love, in any form fashion or device we choose :].</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://cardiophile.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/heart2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://cardiophile.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/heart2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Did you know that Chaucer was the first to link Valentine's with romantic love? For some reason this adds so much legitimacy to the holiday in my mind. I can't explain but Chaucer just has to be bowed down to I think. (Wikipedia is fascinating...)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My sister* had a mental hiccup yesterday and wrote Happy Valentimes Day on an unknown amount of cards that got sent home to unsuspecting mothers. I find this story HIGHlarious and laugh out loud every time I think about it. But I was considering the word she created and I believe it's actually pretty accurate. I could explain my whole thought process but basically I love the "time" part. We need to take more time to show our "Valen". Valen doesn't actually mean anything (I checked) but it could well enough mean love and affection right?! We'll go with that. So share some of that valen and time and know I love you <3.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">(Lest you think I'm too weird, while I love and adore the holiday I do not enjoy the actual day. People get weird, there are many expectations, and drama seems inevitable, whether it's the real kind or the kind that traps me in my head. So in light of that I went to the gym today and ran instead of going anywhere else haha)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">*Names have been changed to protect the innocent*</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-25767939574687094692011-02-10T20:23:00.000-08:002011-03-23T09:37:54.235-07:00The Dtown Bucket listThis may be a little bit of a misnomer. This bucket list is not just about Dtown, it's about the whole Michigan area. I believe that I'm going to be leaving Michigan in December so I've compiled a list of things that I want to do and see before I go. The list keeps getting more and more extensive but I figure it will just give me more things to blog about!! <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>But here's all the things I have so far:</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Lake Superior (Munising, Painted Rocks State Park, and a Shipwreck tour on the lake, seriously look this place up and I dare you not to want to drop everything and go there)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Fall Colors driving tour (by Muskegon and to see Lake Mich again)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Ludington (this is if I can convince my friend Elizabeth to let me go with her :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Canadia (most likely Toronto but really since I'm this close I might as well hop the border more than I did at Niagara Falls)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - New York City (I'm this close might as well take the plunge... plus I need to see Wicked!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Feather bowling (honestly I have a vague/no clue what this is but it sounds great anyway haha)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - A Tigers game (gotta hit up baseball at least once and I've already done hockey and basketball)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - A Lion's game (see above)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - The Bang (this is a dance party in AA that happens once a month, random goal I know)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Detroit Metropolitan Institute of Art</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Henry Ford Museum (can I be in the Motor City and not learn about cars?!?!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Cafe D'Mongo (a speakeasy in Dtown my lovely girl Damien recommended to me)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Roast (apparently this fantasmic restaurant in downtown Dtown)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - See something at Fox Theater</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Bruce Peninsula (also in Canadia but from the trip I missed last time it's Gorgeousocity)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Explore Hell, MI (I have been there but just to the Dam Site Inn and it was at night)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Any other fun place to see/eat with good friends!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Some things I've done but would like to repeat:</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"> - The Redford Theater (awesome little Chinese style theater)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Mackinac Island (which will probably include running in their race again, maybe this will be my half marathon New Years Resolution)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Chicago</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Boston (perhaps)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Another Red WIngs Game (because I'm now addicted to hockey)</div><div style="text-align: center;"> - Go back to Holland to see the Tulips!</div><br />
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*If something isn't on the list it might be because I've forgotten it.... or I've already done it! <br />
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Any other suggestions I'd love to hear them!! And you can count on pictures as I am incredibly addicted to taking them : ).Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-54877544984647508762011-02-02T15:02:00.000-08:002011-02-02T15:06:26.071-08:00Snow Day Activities<div style="text-align: center;">This is the story of a snowman. This snowman's name is Fernando Gonzalez and he is a Mexican skier. A fantastic Mexican skier actually. This is his story; taking on the Ski Jump of Peril. (For the record this is my first experience building a snowman*) Fernando not only has but rocks a toupee, and has personalized hand-made ski poles.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The day Fernando chose to make his jump was absolutely beautiful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOJYzCJeqKOe9-y24HCz8lW1djYTXn_J6NfSjhL5k-d2bK3wT_Uk512Z3ay6i6dKSkm5kJWveLGh20zSVMn5_mvVWCnfCg9Wcya-xoYvgk6JSHd3x-2KXkyPjESwIr49vtG6y8d6121Q/s1600/DSC_0780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOJYzCJeqKOe9-y24HCz8lW1djYTXn_J6NfSjhL5k-d2bK3wT_Uk512Z3ay6i6dKSkm5kJWveLGh20zSVMn5_mvVWCnfCg9Wcya-xoYvgk6JSHd3x-2KXkyPjESwIr49vtG6y8d6121Q/s320/DSC_0780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fernando gets his skis.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqa2dVL7H2n1VA3udMlPs4z12iwuIhjQCDMmP24VHEVrPqp4mGepd_mKpTUiRQf57-IEvj7ce66vJl3Qz5xc2cubXg0PpwlAay6m5ErmfvJrxlPuKunehOl3zAnLyJ-Pz-PM-6XYXrXc/s1600/DSC_0783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqa2dVL7H2n1VA3udMlPs4z12iwuIhjQCDMmP24VHEVrPqp4mGepd_mKpTUiRQf57-IEvj7ce66vJl3Qz5xc2cubXg0PpwlAay6m5ErmfvJrxlPuKunehOl3zAnLyJ-Pz-PM-6XYXrXc/s320/DSC_0783.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCeCbrKkFWiWCsj-jzzuFJDf3awBEQGOb5TPZuPUy6oVpwBl_u50NNclQLGYV65_9TksURzh3euzrgKzLEo8kbG91oiMYzr6C8NK2Wxar0xwPv4TgyxoSZ3AOVGhOVKEdSF1J2b92xRM/s1600/DSC_0787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCeCbrKkFWiWCsj-jzzuFJDf3awBEQGOb5TPZuPUy6oVpwBl_u50NNclQLGYV65_9TksURzh3euzrgKzLEo8kbG91oiMYzr6C8NK2Wxar0xwPv4TgyxoSZ3AOVGhOVKEdSF1J2b92xRM/s320/DSC_0787.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Jump of Peril, staring into the face of our competitor. Remnants of skis and other jumpers before litter the edge of the jump. One of the other skiers who tried the jump and failed was an Ecuadorian rival Luis. The night before the jump the two rivals had a run in with each other over a girl named Daisy. She was stringing them both along, pitting them again each other. Some blame Fernando for Luis' failure....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BA6xXq2z-PoHGcqbUcnVondEyhGMZYLP7wj9n8dSvsxC5SW2nsfYauPQhq-umsi3u2FhRwVzP-kisUD0TFRHsNA36OB4P-G-v_vI2GRlMCzsjmxyD61kdArKapeNDGCcUy-ZQogHasY/s1600/DSC_0797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BA6xXq2z-PoHGcqbUcnVondEyhGMZYLP7wj9n8dSvsxC5SW2nsfYauPQhq-umsi3u2FhRwVzP-kisUD0TFRHsNA36OB4P-G-v_vI2GRlMCzsjmxyD61kdArKapeNDGCcUy-ZQogHasY/s320/DSC_0797.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fernando stares down the jump. Gearing himself up for what is to come.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_r-lsmv9EkCbTZRApYHv9hPZCmh2bgRcuLhGWlBpFP1TsH70n8Ql2kioMXfqOyTcZQMEv0PZcuVYCQf_L3Nvpbi3nA5vh4Q74T9uMrNAUrBAPXTaUjIbQ0rjCt_kRZBFJiuZvsDXBgo/s1600/DSC_0791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_r-lsmv9EkCbTZRApYHv9hPZCmh2bgRcuLhGWlBpFP1TsH70n8Ql2kioMXfqOyTcZQMEv0PZcuVYCQf_L3Nvpbi3nA5vh4Q74T9uMrNAUrBAPXTaUjIbQ0rjCt_kRZBFJiuZvsDXBgo/s320/DSC_0791.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The face of a champion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIlGDWgjEhAnGKBd8GZcA56v_MfDgo3vMjfD81ig1VNdpKTBYnJ6YG6Mx1p-eubyPliHzebOw0VAlHhJEXZd83O-o43QFHWkrAnMmXkx1KHMaDD1YFQ8Zv-ED7fhjh4o3smE8jSDS64Y/s1600/DSC_0799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIlGDWgjEhAnGKBd8GZcA56v_MfDgo3vMjfD81ig1VNdpKTBYnJ6YG6Mx1p-eubyPliHzebOw0VAlHhJEXZd83O-o43QFHWkrAnMmXkx1KHMaDD1YFQ8Zv-ED7fhjh4o3smE8jSDS64Y/s400/DSC_0799.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">*Just so everyone knows Fernando was not technically my first snowman. There has been one other. However he was no as well established as Fernando. Anton (the friend who helped create Fernando) graciously agreed to provide some context for my first snowman.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1-wPu-zJ5UwzQGf4_0RsA7-2NeOvT1KjxiOCkXACuKwJ1PqwsS6xQHNalkxyig1zP1Y18LQ8qvzpTfqGVPegnNBwrC1ZNNOBeFRgakiisFOSkI_kr2guj9EMo9v4Ed69NnCXEXLth0A/s1600/DSC_0778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1-wPu-zJ5UwzQGf4_0RsA7-2NeOvT1KjxiOCkXACuKwJ1PqwsS6xQHNalkxyig1zP1Y18LQ8qvzpTfqGVPegnNBwrC1ZNNOBeFRgakiisFOSkI_kr2guj9EMo9v4Ed69NnCXEXLth0A/s320/DSC_0778.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-67830143527473841442011-01-06T14:50:00.000-08:002011-01-06T14:55:49.106-08:00Back to Being 7 Years Old<div style="text-align: center;">As a kid, and in to my high school years we traveled a lot as a family. We were always going places to see family but we stopped at lots of the national parks and things in between. We also used to listen as my mom would read Roadside Geology of the United States. This book tells you all about the surrounding geology given what road and mile-marker you are at. It's really fascinating. I never wanted to be a geologist, but I loved loved loved learning about the geology across all the states we went through. I remember a small bit about going to Carlsbad Caverns the time that we went (although I learned when we went this time that part of my "memory" was really about somewhere in Mississippi or Missouri... oops!) and I remember loving it. But that was back when I was small and I had been thinking about it a lot. This Christmas break Abbey and I had the joint idea (chicken and the egg kind of thing for who actually gets credit...) to go back when we're all older, her kids might remember, and her husband could see. I was ecstatic when my mom agreed. And that was when I turned back into a little kid again....except this time the little kid has a camera!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My picture excitement started when we pulled into our hotel and the sunset was awesome. I needed to get a picture of the dog's ear as well, those always fascinate me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYbW8nv3PUNhj2QLlcx0-IHyTR00u8Uy2kOtgzDvTzg_G1eU4wjTvjPcFCs_-900xz9yU5XD5jjXtS16O3mwzQeZ6k4c7tLkeniKckArhq_2mg8OP_uEEVtsWirO8ewKUikuqVgRkAaI/s1600/DSC_0503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYbW8nv3PUNhj2QLlcx0-IHyTR00u8Uy2kOtgzDvTzg_G1eU4wjTvjPcFCs_-900xz9yU5XD5jjXtS16O3mwzQeZ6k4c7tLkeniKckArhq_2mg8OP_uEEVtsWirO8ewKUikuqVgRkAaI/s400/DSC_0503.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">It was the next morning that we went to the caves and you drive up onto a little plateau to get to the entrance. Looking out across the prairie was gorgeous I thought. Well gorgeous in a "ugly desert spiky ocatillo" kind of way.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTTwV5Jqkdne9aZRWPnM6IVBaWAb6FDBKiwrQIa7QoEUcR6gjquFZhNrIAlxt8hYDr0rZjJ5HwV8KDKRjZvwKgSKGdLgxNxhFPJvveJOkYtXspE1FP3p2oqkwnjE2LVUbulKQW1VBbmc/s1600/DSC_0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTTwV5Jqkdne9aZRWPnM6IVBaWAb6FDBKiwrQIa7QoEUcR6gjquFZhNrIAlxt8hYDr0rZjJ5HwV8KDKRjZvwKgSKGdLgxNxhFPJvveJOkYtXspE1FP3p2oqkwnjE2LVUbulKQW1VBbmc/s400/DSC_0605.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The entrance to the visitor's center.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RcQPTpvXLWyXJUaol4GRuJ9VWb9vRoLczRJB_vsJVzQoRAq0LhcKfDjVTdkC0IKovr36CUW3d3IynOZ16VVgYkG2BN5gPOyBCOkz5La2A7vzj8C_1fzhQyGDvcxV7z4ZaaR_HBFemto/s1600/DSC_0606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RcQPTpvXLWyXJUaol4GRuJ9VWb9vRoLczRJB_vsJVzQoRAq0LhcKfDjVTdkC0IKovr36CUW3d3IynOZ16VVgYkG2BN5gPOyBCOkz5La2A7vzj8C_1fzhQyGDvcxV7z4ZaaR_HBFemto/s400/DSC_0606.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">We decided to hike down through the natural entrance then we thought we would take the elevator back up at the end of the day. There is this warning at the beginning of the hike and I thought it was hilarious. Hilarious because you're hiking downhill. Maybe they want to put that on the other end of the 1.2 mile trail 750 vertical feet down in the ground.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdoEg_2KKF32S0A6KrtbdBKPNX9Z4i85voQZmVINkT_Q8KqLf7uUleTc24p3ip1BqoWIkQEnjlkEp0pUNPNFWSsVhNmrgfOXY60dnxOTz4r1A_SB4TLCN6pZEKwKfWnEMsv7wIlkXpEI/s1600/DSC_0622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdoEg_2KKF32S0A6KrtbdBKPNX9Z4i85voQZmVINkT_Q8KqLf7uUleTc24p3ip1BqoWIkQEnjlkEp0pUNPNFWSsVhNmrgfOXY60dnxOTz4r1A_SB4TLCN6pZEKwKfWnEMsv7wIlkXpEI/s400/DSC_0622.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> This is the natural entrance to the cave. Well the close up version. If we had come in the summer I would have forced my family to go back at sunset so we could see all the bats come teeming out of the cave for the night. But sadly, the bats winter in Mexico. Gorgeous though right? The amount of detail that is entirely etched by water and wind. Mind boggling.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjid83vLS7msBdo6VgTgWGVwc1pZFBhoTbkbQekQjYQCOwGvEVVUs8-8BbP45ajiFgbGmgymxvY2CuDontW2bcmuES0vDDAqvzKT1ZTX4k97PJQaGW_1YKsG89_xFuSbYXnl1u4M1FaG_g/s1600/DSC_0633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjid83vLS7msBdo6VgTgWGVwc1pZFBhoTbkbQekQjYQCOwGvEVVUs8-8BbP45ajiFgbGmgymxvY2CuDontW2bcmuES0vDDAqvzKT1ZTX4k97PJQaGW_1YKsG89_xFuSbYXnl1u4M1FaG_g/s400/DSC_0633.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">These are called draperies, and it's what happens when water and sediment drip down the side of the cave wall. The caves we were in weren't really "living" caves, which means that they're dry for the most part, so the draperies, stalactites, and stalagmites aren't still growing. There were so many caves behind caves, and caves through holes. I couldn't quite capture it, but I tried really hard!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MKndVCv8ZQHrPdft8jDo3KJpvx03m_CHzbx26ql2MsFcNJ2lEedD-WTNrHHxgBN7BsObbie_JlnchsrCGlccudfQtKKG1tNrFZgzjv9uK8uBxPcSPvFXCg04RYn7OTzUkb0Aia92EHg/s1600/DSC_0673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MKndVCv8ZQHrPdft8jDo3KJpvx03m_CHzbx26ql2MsFcNJ2lEedD-WTNrHHxgBN7BsObbie_JlnchsrCGlccudfQtKKG1tNrFZgzjv9uK8uBxPcSPvFXCg04RYn7OTzUkb0Aia92EHg/s400/DSC_0673.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">It fascinates me how all these things can grow and be shaped and still be their own entity. They're all entirely separate even though they're formed in the same way. In this picture alone you can see stalactites, stalagmites, cave popcorn (the bumpy stuff on the right side), and draperies.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiLBCN6AxM5V9k5AZAKIa6ds3u_z8VpkmnwIZoIbuIQR_T_fyM1AcUuNiQgdpO4uNHP9v17tZlq8CTlJcslpHfmkZ2Uw3Fb6_LfUbi-gSFFpMS3htl3OWhoIpVN4Fn-hJiy3oxjGoTmtQ/s1600/DSC_0678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiLBCN6AxM5V9k5AZAKIa6ds3u_z8VpkmnwIZoIbuIQR_T_fyM1AcUuNiQgdpO4uNHP9v17tZlq8CTlJcslpHfmkZ2Uw3Fb6_LfUbi-gSFFpMS3htl3OWhoIpVN4Fn-hJiy3oxjGoTmtQ/s400/DSC_0678.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">When a stalactite and a stalagmite grow together it forms a column. They are the most beautiful imposing things I've ever seen. This column was about 4 feet in diameter. Ahmazing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8coTxd1t244IoH3U0CUFVU-B89j4gIW2WYFV7guEUYTHyUCMW_E97433FY2Zbfiovn4hkH_SIOtsKYRp4_ajEShZ2YDzxquiZGJUsAz9so-yh-Lu2XnQMoQcbVO-3B1qmdzqhOVzwQDg/s1600/DSC_0695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8coTxd1t244IoH3U0CUFVU-B89j4gIW2WYFV7guEUYTHyUCMW_E97433FY2Zbfiovn4hkH_SIOtsKYRp4_ajEShZ2YDzxquiZGJUsAz9so-yh-Lu2XnQMoQcbVO-3B1qmdzqhOVzwQDg/s400/DSC_0695.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">This is my favorite picture of the trip. Sadly it doesn't even capture the things that I could see in person. But it's still my fav. The stalactites look so delicate, and yet they're made of rock! And they're completely untouched and as natural as anything. I can't even explain how much I want to gush about how cool it is to witness something so amazing and natural and know that man had absolutely NOTHING to do with it. We were 750 feet directly down into the earth and still this stuff forms. Absolutely amazing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkGhM23r6M6FR5q3A0CP6boz23SeZbtKq_phtz_awkF9lfBw9otG7ZenJgv36RMpSEvOJXfpg20_0EYK3rPrdYca3_ty9TDYPN4vgtX54FES83JY1xhdbP-RVUC84bzaV1F0vOhuPUDo/s1600/DSC_0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkGhM23r6M6FR5q3A0CP6boz23SeZbtKq_phtz_awkF9lfBw9otG7ZenJgv36RMpSEvOJXfpg20_0EYK3rPrdYca3_ty9TDYPN4vgtX54FES83JY1xhdbP-RVUC84bzaV1F0vOhuPUDo/s400/DSC_0728.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">This is my tribute to some of the photographs that were taken when the caves were first discovered. The man who discovered them, Jim White, couldn't get anyone to come see them until he dragged a photographer down to take some pictures. My tribute would be much better if I had a tripod but I will settle :). The black and white is pretty cool though and still manages to capture the subtleties of the features.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDUHhWLWZuKPI19ursoIWET5DQAxYLpA7y9TS1VKr38bM7Gv9lcXhFLJPhUCuUzMF0AZpX4aRge8ExdxLAECDIj60_aC_x9AwhTjVhJOtD5QZJi4f9Kz2FeIj2AX_oOqh0_lrxW25xVA/s1600/DSC_0733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDUHhWLWZuKPI19ursoIWET5DQAxYLpA7y9TS1VKr38bM7Gv9lcXhFLJPhUCuUzMF0AZpX4aRge8ExdxLAECDIj60_aC_x9AwhTjVhJOtD5QZJi4f9Kz2FeIj2AX_oOqh0_lrxW25xVA/s400/DSC_0733.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was so excited to go to the caves and even more excited that I got to share it with my fantastic family.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSe8MwFCjAnXoLljU2UqrE8bvCCsiRzRkNW4jDhyphenhyphen6hvzVdE77tT7Jd0xte1HXzYha3-rm0N2zVa45BfQdfpLm4dXHhhUndNxCe8C9PcQxI9P6Sy9nfilrX-dTPb1Tt-E7UJNYQ-OsU2qE/s1600/DSC_0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSe8MwFCjAnXoLljU2UqrE8bvCCsiRzRkNW4jDhyphenhyphen6hvzVdE77tT7Jd0xte1HXzYha3-rm0N2zVa45BfQdfpLm4dXHhhUndNxCe8C9PcQxI9P6Sy9nfilrX-dTPb1Tt-E7UJNYQ-OsU2qE/s400/DSC_0632.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-74195764371385452912011-01-05T19:15:00.000-08:002011-01-05T19:15:24.361-08:00A Montage of Thoughts and Restitutions<div style="text-align: center;">I just got back from Christmas vacation, which was completely awesome. I'll have an entire post dedicated to Carlsbad Caverns so this post is just a few thoughts I had over break. First I got my car back just before the break. I was in a collision with an unfortunate deer and didn't have it for three and a half weeks. My friends, that was hell. Being without a car was just maddening. Now that I have it back I've realized that the saying is true that your car is never the same after an accident. By looking at it you can tell no difference (except one headlight is much clearer than the other), but inside and driving it is much louder than it was before. They had to replace part of the door and it now whistles when I'm going fast. Fairly annoying. I'll have to get used to it. But it is sad to think that the car I knew and loved now has to become something I just get used to.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">On a different traveling note, I adore airports. I don't like flying in planes much because I am terribly fidgety (however speed is always appreciated), but I love watching the people in the airport. And listening to their conversations but I try not to let anyone know that I actually do that. But the funniest part for me is when everyone is waiting to get on the plane. People get SO angry and SO impatient. Is it hard to understand that we will all be on the same plane?? This is even more fascinating when we have assigned seats. I just don't get the impatience. But it's fun to watch people get unbelievably agitated about being FIRST in line! They obviously deserve it : ).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My last thought is about New Years Resolutions. I make them every year and I do enjoy thinking about them. I was thinking about them this year though and the things that I want to do better this year than last, and it kind of turned into "what are Heidi's vices". I don't know if it's always like that, or that's just what it is this year but it was a tad depressing. I still pressed on though and made my resolutions. Maybe my vices will diminish this year haha.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-11349892092832559702010-12-18T22:28:00.000-08:002010-12-18T22:28:09.757-08:00Um...Okay Bye! *Awkward Wave*<div style="text-align: center;">In the past couple of weeks I've had the <s>misfortune</s> opportunity to say good bye to a lot of my friends. Most of them were good byes for just the Christmas break but a couple were good byes to friends I won't see for a very long time. Here's the conclusion I've come to: I am straight up terrible at saying good bye.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've discovered that if you don't know me super well my good bye can come off a little bit like, "Hey I don't care about you. Peace!" So so so not true. Really I'm just baffled about what to say. I love giving hugs and I can do that. But after that I don't know what to do. I feel a little bit like Ricky Bobby in Talladega Nights. I just don't know what to do with my hands. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't express at all that I will miss you. "Have a nice life" just doesn't ring true for me. I also have a problem because I really dislike crying, and if I'm saying good bye to someone really important to me then if I think at all about how much I'll miss them it's inevitable I'll cry. And this doesn't work for me at all. So I just don't know what to do. All this adds up to me being super awkward at farewells. Like as awkward as the word awkward is. I feel bad for anyone who has to say good bye because it's just ridiculous. Maybe someday I'll be good at this..... but that would probably mean way more practice :(</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-79078238345345438272010-12-04T22:24:00.000-08:002010-12-04T22:24:37.057-08:00a FeW oF mY fAvOrItE tHiNgS<div style="text-align: center;">Christmas.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I love this time of year so much I can hardly stand it. And I have a few traditions that I always do that help me enjoy it even more. This year though I guess I have been too busy to really think about all those things. I went to a Christmas Chorale concert tonight to hear my cousin sing and while I was listening to all the different songs I realized all the things I need to do before the 24th! And I just thought I'd make a list.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">First: I need to find myself the Mannheim Steamroller Christmas CD because it needs to be in my life. I love listening to the violin's and the drums and the piano. For me, it makes the holiday mood and lovin' feeling that much easier to feel.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.onlineticketsusa.com/images/show/ballet/Nutcracker-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://www.onlineticketsusa.com/images/show/ballet/Nutcracker-large.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Second: I need to watch the Nutcracker. When I was little we used to go watch the ballet every year. It was possibly my favorite tradition of the Christmas season. We stopped going because we got older, etc. but that part of my childhood is something I want to go back to. I sent a text to my mom asking her (with no hope of positive affirmation) whether it is play at home. Turns our the universe likes to taunt me and the last performance is the day before I get home. I must admit I was sad. But then my wonderful mom told me we could get it on Netflix and watch. So excited!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.textually.org/tv/archives/images/set3/White-Christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.textually.org/tv/archives/images/set3/White-Christmas.jpg" width="129" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Third: White Christmas. Honestly what would my holiday be like without the beautiful loveliness that is Bing Crosby's voice? I can't wait to get home to New Mex, break out the VHS and settle in to watch.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Last: The Polar Express. This is a new tradition but it's been fairly consistent. I'm not as invested in it as the others but I do love the music that it has. And cartoons are always lovely!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I also can't wait to go shopping. I know it's a rather tedious task but I love shopping for all the presents for my friends and family. If only I could do it without all the annoying high schooler's that inhabit the mall..... maybe I'll become an internet shopper... : ).</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563256888739393642.post-45655227896948140142010-11-09T18:13:00.000-08:002010-11-09T18:13:19.650-08:00Holidaze Time<div style="text-align: center;">I completely love the holidays. For a few reasons. One I have so much fun picking out presents for people and spending time with family and friends. But a close second is that I <i style="font-weight: bold;">adore</i> this tasty treat:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrum3hmScoHVGvm2PQUyib3ZfmS5_fH-qoizvz4Gyv3f9YAck26_R2U_RBl9dERYqlBqayBZop42AcOarvas95QEcRi4KTK8kv3pfcPPaiTNGYcFAaluB_eANlo9_W5TLbRPn5TNsU_Bo/s1600/DSC_1774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrum3hmScoHVGvm2PQUyib3ZfmS5_fH-qoizvz4Gyv3f9YAck26_R2U_RBl9dERYqlBqayBZop42AcOarvas95QEcRi4KTK8kv3pfcPPaiTNGYcFAaluB_eANlo9_W5TLbRPn5TNsU_Bo/s320/DSC_1774.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let's be honest. I drink Starbucks year round. But it is ultimately more fulfilling during the holidays because there's a ton more variety. Peppermint signature hot chocolate just to name one. But chai tea latte's and normal signature hot chocolate with cinnamon and cream always hit the spot. I just can't get enough of this lovin'. So fan.freaking.tastic.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03865208974276079117noreply@blogger.com3