tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71096874063733466112024-03-19T01:54:35.492-07:00Training FireballsFireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-1216719947050743772010-06-22T14:29:00.000-07:002010-06-23T09:48:26.668-07:00Conversations With Strangers<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:130%;">When I was growing up, my grandpa used to embarrass me. I loved him dearly, but he would strike up conversations with strangers, and as a teenager I thought it was mortifying. I still felt that way when I was in college. He taught at BYU, so he could get me a nice discount on my books if I took him with me to the bookstore, but I always had an "Is this worth it?" moment in my head when he would go around asking the other students where they were from and what they're major was.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Now I think it's endearing. And maybe there's something to this conversation-with-strangers thing. I don't think I'll ever be as outgoing as my grandfather, but I had fun talking to a stranger today. I was in a waiting room, about to get my foot x-rayed (another story for another day), when an elderly woman struck up a conversation with me:</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Little Old Lady, seeing my crutches and my foot in a boot: Oh, you poor dear! How did you do that?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Me: Running.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Little Old Lady: Were you training for a race?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Me: Yes, a half marathon.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Little Old Lady: My granddaughter runs lots of races. She doesn't do the 26 one, but she does the 13 one.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Me: That's what I was training for. A half marathon is 13 miles.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Little Old Lady: Then you must know my granddaughter! Kim Flenderson?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Me, trying not to smile too broadly: No, I don't think I've met her.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">If I could be guaranteed fun conversations like this, I would totally start embarrassing my kids.</span></div>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-74716001666203097732010-05-18T20:33:00.000-07:002010-05-19T20:51:27.616-07:00Saucy and Bobbo!<div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6Rurg1mvng6YgR25rUrZAo1ELG0mGi2l-9AhEmDMX7UGLjkXKMGkbg6bs5gV8uvj7L1pnzmIzKH428d4kfEDDOISwFtNcnHWiWTPl2H8TjQWQDtuL4AlsQzTQvbjwxVvtT2YTFvnLC4w/s1600/IMG_5333.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6Rurg1mvng6YgR25rUrZAo1ELG0mGi2l-9AhEmDMX7UGLjkXKMGkbg6bs5gV8uvj7L1pnzmIzKH428d4kfEDDOISwFtNcnHWiWTPl2H8TjQWQDtuL4AlsQzTQvbjwxVvtT2YTFvnLC4w/s320/IMG_5333.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">A couple of weeks ago we headed to Utah for my sister's wedding. They were married in the Manti temple, which is in the middle of nowhere. They chose this temple because my parents were married there, and, hey, it's beautiful. We stayed in Provo, which is a couple of hours away. I have to admit that I grumbled a bit on the drive there, but eventually we turned a corner, and there was the temple, surrounded by rolling green hills. It was like some of the castles we saw a few years ago in Germany. So worth the drive.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIEmaQ8X3vS-PwlAVEsjnnyiUSI-ZXgT4wWnW_P5kivQeojmneDKgtV7XKIOqRbsO0dgFceLM9YuKBzqMGkGI_JMSxXwyrpWhm29jJ6h5rrx-Ez31mmUumr48Vcu5MtthaDY6t5Mn4cX7/s1600/IMG_5154.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIEmaQ8X3vS-PwlAVEsjnnyiUSI-ZXgT4wWnW_P5kivQeojmneDKgtV7XKIOqRbsO0dgFceLM9YuKBzqMGkGI_JMSxXwyrpWhm29jJ6h5rrx-Ez31mmUumr48Vcu5MtthaDY6t5Mn4cX7/s320/IMG_5154.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The happy couple, just as they're coming out of the temple.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"> </div><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"> </div> <div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"> </div> <div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPT5pkjq7hCSyCw2IV_7JAhJs-mb6bfYrFYvr4aayOiveKcPoMAXixHOMkmXxEHqZ4bOSOgCWxDc47_qf3WiZPm2fy0q4V9-Irxs2m1xFii1e9jfR6B_IGM_pRpbv9ap4lmVZMZdI-5Zty/s1600/IMG_5328.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPT5pkjq7hCSyCw2IV_7JAhJs-mb6bfYrFYvr4aayOiveKcPoMAXixHOMkmXxEHqZ4bOSOgCWxDc47_qf3WiZPm2fy0q4V9-Irxs2m1xFii1e9jfR6B_IGM_pRpbv9ap4lmVZMZdI-5Zty/s320/IMG_5328.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thing 3 with my cousin, who we lovingly refer to as "Flocky," although it's been so long that I can't remember why. He's more like a brother than a cousin. He's also the one who took all these pictures. Except this one.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"> </div><br /><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbLYpUt3xhxVFsa9aL9O6JVy36HA80jwlTg7uEb8tOqtpvZrIfExnP8EkBLFKmLNDYvmhYUsScNhnAhsR9LGXs9VXVlS7Bqa1e4_nBdTY26_v_rDMdQx6e7uWmz02Z4t3fN74tVXt7ppG/s1600/IMG_5303.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbLYpUt3xhxVFsa9aL9O6JVy36HA80jwlTg7uEb8tOqtpvZrIfExnP8EkBLFKmLNDYvmhYUsScNhnAhsR9LGXs9VXVlS7Bqa1e4_nBdTY26_v_rDMdQx6e7uWmz02Z4t3fN74tVXt7ppG/s320/IMG_5303.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Me and the sibs. We always do this pose when we're together. See the family resemblance? If you know what movie this is from, you get bonus points.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3d2ldp5NBks8bTqRGXQdU1AAWdTjK49W6JzIlvS9NiakA3cCHecGpkgUzCItmfFkhfi1lnhE2l1CchXiqv2KWi2M7HW4iGtSkyzYPwC0TP6WEzNpEyN3LQmgqSOtVW8GY9ToTIwQpGYki/s1600/IMG_5260.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3d2ldp5NBks8bTqRGXQdU1AAWdTjK49W6JzIlvS9NiakA3cCHecGpkgUzCItmfFkhfi1lnhE2l1CchXiqv2KWi2M7HW4iGtSkyzYPwC0TP6WEzNpEyN3LQmgqSOtVW8GY9ToTIwQpGYki/s320/IMG_5260.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The fam. Can you tell how warm and toasty we are? This was on May 1st and it snowed that day. Seriously.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqF0oK0Xlgsh3tgwHvOdRvl-ccWb4dflSKMlo9yBVEBZbpXRFpU1wuRJXNXTuO5z_Ft_jRSs4Iddf5P1xsHGv3CvR3c4_GDOrXDbruKdjUzR41BzWivA3Vz7LJK_D9w083OdZPtTNQnVkx/s1600/IMG_5396.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqF0oK0Xlgsh3tgwHvOdRvl-ccWb4dflSKMlo9yBVEBZbpXRFpU1wuRJXNXTuO5z_Ft_jRSs4Iddf5P1xsHGv3CvR3c4_GDOrXDbruKdjUzR41BzWivA3Vz7LJK_D9w083OdZPtTNQnVkx/s320/IMG_5396.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The bride and bridesmaids. I spent most of the night tugging on the bottom of my dress because it was a little too short for me. </span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfglzKRi6RvSgu4MGTw6ex2LdSNRxrcHz_ijXVIIIokc1mWOQJOq7_hxyE6lxkkQtFqRSK-DCiTAJWsMEaUNhGuiemwpMiEi3kGb_sXtJZCAxwgbs-Edn1JraNbvemoti9Mem0qT4ixRT/s1600/IMG_5387.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfglzKRi6RvSgu4MGTw6ex2LdSNRxrcHz_ijXVIIIokc1mWOQJOq7_hxyE6lxkkQtFqRSK-DCiTAJWsMEaUNhGuiemwpMiEi3kGb_sXtJZCAxwgbs-Edn1JraNbvemoti9Mem0qT4ixRT/s320/IMG_5387.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The three Things and their Auntie.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKfDAZ8kNaWM66X4Fj_ZujnRslUYH-1bzeVVX8Xt4tU0BsciuEZERn9-xcOxbERladc6GKmDutiXKLByYcZxv91f5HIxBZv5vBjIdoAlw7ZBGWgxf08IP0qqZVB1YalifsteGnR-ZEEsT/s1600/IMG_5416.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKfDAZ8kNaWM66X4Fj_ZujnRslUYH-1bzeVVX8Xt4tU0BsciuEZERn9-xcOxbERladc6GKmDutiXKLByYcZxv91f5HIxBZv5vBjIdoAlw7ZBGWgxf08IP0qqZVB1YalifsteGnR-ZEEsT/s320/IMG_5416.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">This is the best picture we could get with all the nieces and nephews. Doesn't Thing 3's little 3 year-old cousin on the left look just like him?</span><br /><br /></div>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-87420923168485932922010-05-13T19:07:00.000-07:002010-05-14T08:26:04.644-07:00Thing 3 is still getting his groove on<span style="font-size:130%;">Last week my sister got married! More pictures from that to come, but until then here are some clips of Thing 3 dancing at the wedding. He danced the whole time the music played. Unfortunately, he was usually in the middle of a crowd, so it was tough to film him (Thanks Flocky for the footage). I wish we had gotten some of the air guitar, but we can't have everything.</span><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zmqczsGEivE&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zmqczsGEivE&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-40458998273133789412010-03-25T09:17:00.001-07:002010-03-25T12:18:57.515-07:00A Daddy - Daughter Outing<div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9YbBzTQA5vulaxcfNYQPFg_35MOGzxYgwO9bANVuPN8PYMOW_8euhT4dTVa7sa0NTQqxBF0dXZw1zjiJhW932ECi-amlLYwyjyVzDZM9_qU9IgIlxMMSRmYvUmWhYrCyZ9PLsrczBQ0L/s1600/San+Jose1.htm"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9YbBzTQA5vulaxcfNYQPFg_35MOGzxYgwO9bANVuPN8PYMOW_8euhT4dTVa7sa0NTQqxBF0dXZw1zjiJhW932ECi-amlLYwyjyVzDZM9_qU9IgIlxMMSRmYvUmWhYrCyZ9PLsrczBQ0L/s320/San+Jose1.htm" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452606677468974450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">My dad called me last week with a surprise - he was going to some of the first and second round NCAA men's basketball games in San Jose, and wanted to know if I wanted to go with him. Um, yes please!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">He is friends with a guy who's on the athletic director's committee for San Jose State, so we got the tickets through him - center court, 16th row. They were incredible seats. We were with my dad's friend, his many sons and sons-in-law, and some guys that my dad's friend lovingly refers to as "my three Jewish friends from Syracuse." We saw four games on Thursday and two on Saturday. We had the best venue of the eight by far: we saw Murray State upset Vandy with a buzzer beater and Washington upset Marquette with another last second shot. Four of the six games were close. I yelled myself sick at the Washington game.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Notes from San Jose:</span><br /></div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size:130%;">Four games in one day is not too much.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">No matter how great nachos look, they're not worth $6.50.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">We went into this fabulous place at the arena called "the clubhouse" to watch Kansas go down against Northern Iowa on T.V. (sometimes it really pays to know people - it was a room for the president of the university and his friends). At one point I looked around, and there were about 100 people crammed into this small area, trying to watch the game. It was then that I noticed that I was the only woman there.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">You can still be a superfan when you're in your eighties. There was an awesome New Mexico fan in the row in front of us. She was really old, but totally into the game. She kept meticulous stats, and continually informed her husband of things throughout the game ("That's four on him, honey. One more and he's out of there!") There were some fun Montana fans sitting a few rows behind us, and one time we heard one say to another, "Man, those New Mexico cheerleaders are really ugly." Superfan Granny whipped her head around fast and gave them a dirty look. The next time New Mexico scored, she stood up, turned around, and shook her fist at them.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">You could tell which fans were which whether they were wearing their school colors or not. All Montana fans had cowboy hats. New Mexico fans had a weather-beaten look to them. I can't describe it. Maybe too much sun? Butler fans look just like BYU fans. Polo shirts and jeans, clean cut. Washington fans = holey tee shirts.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">I'm sorry to say that the Montana fans weren't exaggerating about the New Mexico cheerleaders. They had that fake bump thing going on with their hair, and they had a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Tammy_Faye_Messner.jpg">Tammy Faye Bakker</a> thing going on with their make-up. Sad.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">There is a little cafe in San Jose called Hobee's that has the best breakfasts ever. We ate there twice.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">Some people just shouldn't drive. We didn't rent a car, so we just walked everywhere or bummed rides off of people. There were multiple times that weekend that I was afraid for my life.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">The Murray State band was terrible. Mostly they just played their annoying fight song over and over, which I'd had enough of after the first time. By the end I was plotting ingenious ways to get them to stop. The Butler band was incredible, especially their drummer. I wanted to bring him home and bake him brownies.</span><br /></li></ul>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-54564759126748008752010-02-11T11:55:00.000-08:002010-02-11T11:58:13.748-08:00The Newspaper News<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"> </div><span style="font-size:130%;">For the last couple of months, Thing 2 has been bringing home issues of the newspaper that he has been publishing in his spare time (aka when he's supposed to be working at school). It's called The Newspaper News. We love The Newspaper News. I had no idea there were so many scams going on in our neighborhood! I scanned a few of my favorite issues for your viewing pleasure. I have my attempts at the translation underneath, but I warn you that my second grade is a little rusty.</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexvBSheZDxMWOkcyM-yCD3ZhL2ikM_oG6xkBLdY0TMywLWmGx-tdx7O2xHWkk-tXiZHHUjuDCIRAUFeolqlQpRrZDmtuCBvcgnAgBbRE8EtWAQBugkz7zfYVazWx7p6zUr_F8INAfGjUQ/s1600-h/image0-1.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexvBSheZDxMWOkcyM-yCD3ZhL2ikM_oG6xkBLdY0TMywLWmGx-tdx7O2xHWkk-tXiZHHUjuDCIRAUFeolqlQpRrZDmtuCBvcgnAgBbRE8EtWAQBugkz7zfYVazWx7p6zUr_F8INAfGjUQ/s320/image0-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Newspaper<br />A person is getting money for the poor, but she is actually stealing the money, and the old beggar spent it all on one pair of jeans which is mean!</span><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyRt5yCeLa8VUW9TA4bF4qOgkPX1hixlAAKglgpzkbpMjPVmHKrN_wDU9IRrZpXgxHcXx15hg8ZKGgu7Z0qFDnT-C48UaJKhETA2C5D9-lL9jZ5KlCKwIbW223KgLHM-lHIfYk8iTkauc/s1600-h/image0.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyRt5yCeLa8VUW9TA4bF4qOgkPX1hixlAAKglgpzkbpMjPVmHKrN_wDU9IRrZpXgxHcXx15hg8ZKGgu7Z0qFDnT-C48UaJKhETA2C5D9-lL9jZ5KlCKwIbW223KgLHM-lHIfYk8iTkauc/s320/image0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Newspaper<br />A man is stealing rubies. He is wearing black stripes and white stripes. He has black thin rubber gloves, and he has a big, big bag.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjmenrV_sVjyTH_YKIMy5Q8lAN1XbavmQD7WndY1YI0ht89B6oheM1LUpSJ7m2AomlD20FJQx02MKJ79b3wzOdEBiwcD7J_JAXYv0pXqWnCk2BvIEiWjaBN3d2URPSzdAvS8SehFuMR9E/s1600-h/image0-2.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjmenrV_sVjyTH_YKIMy5Q8lAN1XbavmQD7WndY1YI0ht89B6oheM1LUpSJ7m2AomlD20FJQx02MKJ79b3wzOdEBiwcD7J_JAXYv0pXqWnCk2BvIEiWjaBN3d2URPSzdAvS8SehFuMR9E/s320/image0-2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Newspaper<br />A man in black is robbing old people. He has stolen 9,000 dollars. He has a big brown bag. He has a knight that is double bladed (I'm thinking he means a sword. I'm sure double bladed knights are hard to come by). He has escaped from jail. He has clothes that are black and white.</span><br /></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-20954867045759548652010-02-08T15:35:00.000-08:002010-02-08T16:01:36.971-08:00Desperate times call for desperate measures<span style="font-size:130%;">I love playing with my kids. I'm not just saying that - I really do! But in the last few months, Thing 3 has turned into a game junkie. Board games, cards games, whatever. He is constantly trying to get his fix, and he'll play with anyone - he's not picky. He's a good sport, win or lose, although more often than not he wins. He's great at Yahtzee, and he smoked everyone the last time we played Monopoly (with him exclaiming "I love money!" and "I love this game!" the whole time). I play games with him every day, but it never seems to be enough to satisfy him. Unfortunately, I can't play Uno and go fish every waking minute, so in desperation, I taught my four year old how to play 4 card solitare. What does this say about me as a mother? </span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgur1ML1Vy5IteyZQ9z_KhtSHpZtx8oIhMuxsaM3sG7B04Zto_u1Io_xGC4iW_8M6_c1H1cE6ThDUi2BU-ixT6GXzy0Zoi8TZWM28sd7cPCqASFfERT1X4cAVKtBDKHCDSGWQgbT6HSO4/s1600-h/IMG_5721.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgur1ML1Vy5IteyZQ9z_KhtSHpZtx8oIhMuxsaM3sG7B04Zto_u1Io_xGC4iW_8M6_c1H1cE6ThDUi2BU-ixT6GXzy0Zoi8TZWM28sd7cPCqASFfERT1X4cAVKtBDKHCDSGWQgbT6HSO4/s320/IMG_5721.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436020628121762498" border="0" /></a>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-24207757166052087012010-01-17T12:40:00.000-08:002010-01-17T12:57:11.308-08:00Pioneer Fitness Challenge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_nQetqxlUAGs/S0wESDOfB1I/AAAAAAAAAh8/xBvm65bL7GE/wagon%20wheel%20chart%20copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 455px; height: 349px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_nQetqxlUAGs/S0wESDOfB1I/AAAAAAAAAh8/xBvm65bL7GE/wagon%20wheel%20chart%20copy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">This is why I haven't been blogging. Normally I don't have an excuse, but I have had one for the last couple of months. I'm starting a fitness program in my stake: We're celebrating the Mormon pioneers by "exercising" our way from Nauvoo, Illinois to Salt Lake City, Utah, the 1300 miles that the pioneers walked. Every 30 minutes of exercise equals 5 miles on the trail, and if you exercise 150 minutes a week (recommended by the American Heart Association), after 52 weeks you'll hit 1300 miles. My dear friend Diana put together the chart you see above, and my lovely friend Jen helped me with the blog for it: pioneerfitness.blogspot.com (It's a private blog, so let me know if you want to view it and I'll send you an invitation). The challenge is from February 1, 2010 to January 31, 2011. I just wanted to put this out there in case any of you are interested in taking on the challenge. I don't know about you, but I'm always in the need for a little motivation when it comes to exercise!</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-31825932431909268862010-01-08T12:58:00.000-08:002010-01-08T13:01:58.324-08:00Tetris God<span style="font-size:130%;">I've played a lot of tetris in my time. I thought this was funny.</span><br /><br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aVaWHR1SFhE&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aVaWHR1SFhE&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-63762901907687581542009-12-24T11:11:00.000-08:002009-12-25T20:00:13.077-08:00Blessings<span style="font-size:130%;">At Christmastime, I usually try to focus on giving, but this year I can't stop thinking about the blessings that we have, especially the blessing of friendship. I have been overcome with the thoughtfulness of our friends this year. Some good friends of ours invited us over and went out of their way to cook us a gluten free, vegetarian meal. This year we have had an outpouring of caroling and goodies (Including some gluten free!). And the Christmas cards, so many of them hand written, have brought us so much joy. I usually try to reciprocate, but this year it's beyond my capabilities. I feel like George Bailey at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, surrounded by all his friends who love him, with everyone singing Christmas carols. "Merry Christmas, you wonderful old Building and Loan!" Thank you, dear friends. I wish you all peace and happiness this Christmas.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-23750809760201868472009-12-07T21:18:00.000-08:002009-12-08T13:00:11.915-08:00Family Pictures<span style="font-size:130%;">My lovely friend Shama has great talents when it comes to photography. She took some pictures of us on a freezing cold day in November. I think anyone that can get us to relax somewhat in front of a camera is truly gifted; usually we all look like we're being tortured. Go to <a href="http://shamaleaphotography.com/blog/?p=68">Shama's blog</a> to see more pictures. Thanks, Shama!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0skKlyWeX-rmH4n_bnHUlcxUndhcsV5aPARFm-HOwlGw5CxRaHFjRLGGASEzAm1T-O4G8hdWNl5m_lFjZJm4wQGCAM1UeLhcxIXGizzFHmuHe1M1kESTVSLz25Fso-Cizo2LZgU_hbyaQ/s1600-h/20091107_0497.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0skKlyWeX-rmH4n_bnHUlcxUndhcsV5aPARFm-HOwlGw5CxRaHFjRLGGASEzAm1T-O4G8hdWNl5m_lFjZJm4wQGCAM1UeLhcxIXGizzFHmuHe1M1kESTVSLz25Fso-Cizo2LZgU_hbyaQ/s320/20091107_0497.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412731137075514738" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcyJdXA1oNfByV3XFAzOCIfHGw1QNh9dPDBSFj29TE9UfvAsPZhHFugrV7wzVvkr8pTsfEyf5HhDD9qfhEzLP6xFmOMw9stivO3-yHd4-T5DzMf7_1-8lnxIx3xT2LVVGO5u8Pe7xyAHc/s1600-h/logo+christmas+card.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcyJdXA1oNfByV3XFAzOCIfHGw1QNh9dPDBSFj29TE9UfvAsPZhHFugrV7wzVvkr8pTsfEyf5HhDD9qfhEzLP6xFmOMw9stivO3-yHd4-T5DzMf7_1-8lnxIx3xT2LVVGO5u8Pe7xyAHc/s320/logo+christmas+card.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412731145290774690" border="0" /></a>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-25139036049167078392009-12-04T16:03:00.000-08:002009-12-04T16:19:45.638-08:00Getting the heck out of Dodge<span style="font-size:130%;">For about the last year I've been bragging about something, and now it's coming back to bite me. I was at a doctor's appointment, getting my blood drawn, when the lab tech saw my wedding ring and said, "Oh my goodness! You're married? I thought you were in high school!" I would have hugged her if I didn't have a needle stuck in my arm at the time. She didn't make my day, she made my year.<br /><br />It all came crashing down yesterday, when I was Christmas shopping at the mall. I was at the register buying something for Sparky, some articles of clothing clearly for an adult man, and I had this conversation:<br /><br />Perky just-out-of-high-school cashier: "Oh, cool. Are these for your son?"<br /><br />Me, full of calm and patience: "Um... no... They're for my husband."<br /><br />*Awkward silence*<br /><br />Cashier: "Debit or credit?"<br /><br />I wanted to either slap her or lecture her (Listen, if you're going to work in retail...). Of course I have no backbone and did neither, just pasted a smile on my face and got the heck out of Dodge. I've decided that the two experiences cancel each other out, so now I'm just left with me, being dragged kicking and screaming into middle age.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-38959574732585417642009-11-20T10:03:00.000-08:002009-11-20T10:15:26.918-08:00Two things<span style="font-size:130%;">1. Last night I had a dream that I suddenly discovered that there were a bunch of prequels to the Lord of the Rings besides the Hobbit. It was a nightmare. I've read all of those books and I just can't muster any excitement about them.<br /><br />2. Two days ago I went into the garage and our furnace was leaking. It had to do with the pump on the side of the furnace, and when Sparky called the furnace people, he was informed that the nice extended warranty that we'd bought didn't cover the pump. We prepared to pay a ridiculous amount, but today the guy came, fixed it, and refused to charge me. He said it was easy to fix, no big deal. I didn't know that there were any nice guys left in the world (besides my friends and family of course). A bright spot in a rather lousy week.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-25271343088332221042009-11-06T14:13:00.000-08:002009-11-06T14:22:00.532-08:00Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.<span style="font-size:130%;">Looks like BYU women's soccer had a rough time yesterday. Check out these clips on Sports Center last night. Watch for #15 on New Mexico. There's aggressive and then there's evil. Thanks, Sparky, for sending me the clip.<br /></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gNmPybFK2_o&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gNmPybFK2_o&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-63767063959492954482009-10-28T21:28:00.000-07:002009-10-28T21:43:03.595-07:00All The Cats Join In<span style="font-size:130%;">Does anyone remember when this used to play on The Disney Channel? It was back when The Disney Channel was fun, before it was taken over by a bunch of lame shows geared at tween girls. I loved "All The Cats Join In." I heart Benny Goodman and Gene Krupa. I used to say all the time that I was born in the wrong time period, until I started having health problems. If I could go back in time and visit just one concert, it would be a no brainer for me - Benny Goodman at Carnegie Hall, 1938. That concert made big band music legitimate, and it changed music forever.</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZDxa24Bjw9c&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZDxa24Bjw9c&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Anyway, I was working out this morning, and I was tired, and the thought suddenly came into my head - I need a giant animated magic pencil to erase a few inches off my butt and thighs like the one in "All The Cats Join In." It sure worked for that girl. If only.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-64795076121709370822009-09-11T17:26:00.000-07:002009-09-14T11:11:14.332-07:00Bashing The Myth About Exercise<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.timeinc.net/time/magazine/archive/covers/2009/1101090817_400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 531px;" src="http://img.timeinc.net/time/magazine/archive/covers/2009/1101090817_400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Last month, Time magazine came out with an <a href="http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1914857,00.html">article</a> that still has me steaming. It tries to convince the reader that exercise won't help people lose weight, and that it's awful and meaningless. It misrepresents a study done by Dr. Timothy Church from LSU, who actually found in his study that exercise results in weight loss. Dr. Church was <a href="http://www.fitnessrocks.org/2009/09/03/is-exercise-making-us-fat-a-rebuttal-to-time-magazine-2/">interviewed</a> on one of my favorite podcasts, Fitness Rocks, where he explained the study and the importance of exercise.<br /><br />I have been trying to get over this article and I can't. The information in this article is wrong (So wrong!), and it could affect the health of so many people. The average American is looking for an excuse to not exercise, and John Cloud is giving it to him. I don't know how he can sleep at night.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-59255167217777801212009-09-10T09:11:00.001-07:002009-09-10T09:22:01.685-07:00Feet on the Ceiling<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSrIQLIZ17OZ9KjgWg5CYH1ak2V1MQGOnfGI6Bw2xQpUpLbOnrgsO-BLWAxDILHYHTUzyLAUneRDA1fzmDZm2lsc_UNpbR_bKC5x_MlCgxd-9FpAgWCaW0bdAmqKQdWxU1bd68TMRj9Bu/s1600-h/IMG_4505.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSrIQLIZ17OZ9KjgWg5CYH1ak2V1MQGOnfGI6Bw2xQpUpLbOnrgsO-BLWAxDILHYHTUzyLAUneRDA1fzmDZm2lsc_UNpbR_bKC5x_MlCgxd-9FpAgWCaW0bdAmqKQdWxU1bd68TMRj9Bu/s320/IMG_4505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379874586321395186" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />This morning, while "snugging" under the covers with Thing 3 (AKA Genius The Monkey), he informed me that, "I love you, but not as much as I love dad because he can put my feet on the ceiling!" I can't compete with that.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-7246486753153157692009-08-27T13:23:00.000-07:002009-08-27T14:22:03.367-07:00Wobbly Bits<span style="font-size:130%;">What is up with the middle-aged-to-old women and locker rooms? Someone needs to teach them how to get dressed without scaring the children. Yesterday, my friends and I took our kids to the pool, and while my friend and her daughter and I were in the women's locker room, there was... an incident. Look, I get that it's a locker room, and people are changing, and everyone is going to see some things. But this lady was not getting dressed. She was just walking around, butt-naked, taking her time, bending over repeatedly as she stuffed things into her bag. Not pretty! In my mind, I was pleading with her to stop stalling and get dressed already. I wanted to run to all the children and cover their eyes. To quote Bridget Jones, we don't want to be seeing your wobbly bits, lady.<br /><br />I move that anyone who violates the Fireball Locker Room Changing Standards (not giving little children nightmares) should have to be paired up with a surfer for changing lessons. Have you seen these guys getting dressed in beach parking lots? They are masters! And half the time they're dealing with wet suits. All they need is a water jug and a towel, and in two minutes they've had a shower, they're dressed and ready for work, and no flashing. No wobbly bits.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-25902115292537934612009-08-21T13:17:00.000-07:002009-08-21T13:23:49.228-07:00Our House<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjta4dkhnTvQSJLCabTbX4kTf-f-u4Uk3yO-d71FIVKPfoSWibGxprytlHPr5hsQc3vZdcS9QBcA9Q4B254Whx_6VC1AOwZL3aDrGH77YxkIDk3hV3-hjt5Ihb4bKBnb_Xiyshm6OCkhZBp/s1600-h/IM002583.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjta4dkhnTvQSJLCabTbX4kTf-f-u4Uk3yO-d71FIVKPfoSWibGxprytlHPr5hsQc3vZdcS9QBcA9Q4B254Whx_6VC1AOwZL3aDrGH77YxkIDk3hV3-hjt5Ihb4bKBnb_Xiyshm6OCkhZBp/s320/IM002583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372514033069889762" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is a conversation that took place in our car yesterday:<br /><br />Thing 3: "Mom, does our house have a name?"<br />Me: "No..."<br />Thing 3: "Hmmm. How about Mr. Fred? Or Whitey!"<br /><br />I was glad we were in the car so he couldn't see me shaking from held-back laughter.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-5929855487557236682009-08-19T20:05:00.000-07:002009-08-19T20:16:56.913-07:00Moosebutter<span style="font-size:130%;">My kids won't stop singing this song. It's by an a cappella group called Moosebutter. I'm embarrassed that I laughed when I saw it, and that I got all the little jokes throughout. Dangit - that's two posts in a row that expose the nerdy side of me. Here's hoping that posting this will get this out of my head or at least get it in yours. Misery loves company, right?</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PGYAPr6UKhs&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PGYAPr6UKhs&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-85775029499048778332009-08-03T15:27:00.000-07:002009-08-05T09:33:14.262-07:00The 80's List<span style="font-size:130%;">This post is going to expose my nerdiness. I'm sorry, I can't hide it from you any longer. Last week, my brother and cousin were in town, and we finally finished a project we've been talking about for years: the 80's list. It all started when we were trying to decide what the best song from the 80's was, and it ended with each of us compiling a list of the 100 best songs of the 80's. Actually, it didn't end there, it got nerdier. We then combined the three lists and used a point system to figure out our combined top 100 list. I know, your respect for me just dropped a notch.<br /><br />So here's my list. Disclaimer: This is not a list of my </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >favorite</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> songs of the 80's, but what I think are the </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >best</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> songs of the 80's. There's a difference. At the end of the list, I grudgingly stuck on a few songs that I don't love, but I figured they probably deserved a nod for one reason or another.<br /><br /></span><style> <!-- BODY,DIV,TABLE,THEAD,TBODY,TFOOT,TR,TH,TD,P { font-family:"Arial"; font-size:x-small } --> </style> <table rules="none" border="0" cellspacing="0" cols="2" frame="void"> <colgroup><col width="60"><col width="403"></colgroup> <tbody> <tr> <td sdval="1" sdnum="1033;" width="60" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">1</span></td> <td width="403" align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Simple Minds Don't You Forget About Me</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="2" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">2</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">A-ha Take On Me</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="3" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">3</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">U2 Where the Streets Have No Name</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="4" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">4</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">New Order Bizarre Love Triangle</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="5" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">5</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Duran Duran The Reflex</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="6" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">6</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Peter Gabriel In Your Eyes</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="7" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">7</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cure Just Like Heaven</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="8" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">8</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">OMD If You Leave</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="9" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">9</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Michael Jackson Thriller</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="10" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">10</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Bonnie Tyler Total Eclipse of the Heart</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="11" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">11</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Foreigner I Want To Know What Love Is</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="12" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">12</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Madness Our House</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="13" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">13</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Oingo Boingo Dead Man's Party</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="14" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">14</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Information Society What's on Your Mind (Pure Energy)</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="15" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">15</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Madonna Like a Prayer</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="16" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">16</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Modern English I Melt With You</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="17" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">17</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Naked Eyes Always Something There to Remind Me</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="18" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">18</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Billy Idol White Wedding</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="19" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">19</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Police Every Breath You Take</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="20" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">20</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">R.E.M. Stand</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="21" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">21</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">U2 With or Without You</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="22" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">22</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Depeche Mode People Are People</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="23" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">23</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">B-52s Love Shack</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="24" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">24</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">The Smiths How Soon Is Now?</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="25" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">25</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">When in Rome The Promise</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="26" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">26</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Bon Jovi Livin' On a Prayer</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="27" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">27</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">David Bowie and Queen Under Pressure</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="28" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">28</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">General Public Tenderness</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="29" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">29</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Crowded House Don't Dream It's Over</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="30" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">30</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Journey Don't Stop Believin'</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="31" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">31</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Frankie Goes to Hollywood Relax</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="32" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">32</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">U2 I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="33" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">33</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thompson Twins Hold Me Now</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="34" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">34</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Romantics What I Like About You</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="35" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">35</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Erasure A Little Respect</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="36" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">36</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Tears for Fears Everybody Wants to Rule the World</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="37" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">37</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Spandau Ballet True</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="38" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">38</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Elvis Costello Veronica</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="39" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">39</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">George Michael Faith</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="40" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">40</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cars Drive</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="41" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">41</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Bananarama Cruel Summer</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="42" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">42</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Men At Work Down Under</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="43" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">43</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Clash Rock the Casbah</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="44" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">44</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Soft Cell Tainted Love/Where Did Our Love Go</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="45" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">45</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Prince 1999</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="46" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">46</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Toto Africa</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="47" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">47</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Police Don't Stand So Close To Me</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="48" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">48</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cure Close to me</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="49" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">49</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Flock of Seagulls I Ran (So Far Away)</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="50" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">50</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Genesis In Too Deep</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="51" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">51</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mr. Mister Broken Wings</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="52" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">52</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Stray Cats Rock This Town</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="53" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">53</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">R.E.M. Orange Crush</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="54" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">54</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Level 42 Something About You</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="55" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">55</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">REO Speedwagon Can't Fight This Feeling</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="56" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">56</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Police Wrapped Around Your Finger</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="57" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">57</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Chicago Hard to Say I'm Sorry</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="58" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">58</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">EMF Unbelievable</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="59" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">59</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Duran Duran View to a Kill</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="60" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">60</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Billy Joel We Didn't Start the Fire</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="61" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">61</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Heart Alone</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="62" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">62</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Huey Lewis & the News Power of Love</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="63" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">63</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cyndi Lauper Time After Time</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="64" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">64</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Talking Heads Burning Down the House</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="65" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">65</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">U2 New Years Day</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="66" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">66</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Eurythmics Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="67" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">67</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">The Smiths Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="68" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">68</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Yes Owner of a Lonely Heart</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="69" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">69</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Erasure Oh Lamour</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="70" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">70</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Bangles Walk Like an Egyptian</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="71" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">71</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">INXS Need You Tonight</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="72" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">72</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Survivor The Search Is Over</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="73" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">73</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Queen Another One Bites the Dust</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="74" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">74</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">R.E.M. It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="75" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">75</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Midnight Oil Beds Are Burning</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="76" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">76</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Clash Should I Stay or Should I Go?</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="77" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">77</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Men At Work Overkill</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="78" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">78</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Oingo Boingo Weird Science</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="79" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">79</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Hall and Oates Private Eyes</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="80" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">80</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Echo and the Bunnymen Lips Like Sugar</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="81" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">81</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Howard Jones No One is to Blame</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="82" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">82</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Kenny Loggins Footloose</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="83" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">83</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Police Every Little Thing She Does is Magic</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="84" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">84</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cure Lovesong</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="85" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">85</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Survivor Eye of the Tiger</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="86" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">86</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Rick Astley Never Gonna Give You Up</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="87" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">87</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Harold Faltermeyer Axel F</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="88" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">88</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Dexys Midnight Runners Come on Eileen</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="89" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">89</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thomas Dolby She Blinded Me With Science</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="90" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">90</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Tommy Tutone 867-5309/Jenny</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="91" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">91</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Pet Shop Boys West End Girls</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="92" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">92</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Wham! Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="93" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">93</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Beastie Boys Fight For Your Right</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="94" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">94</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Alphaville Forever Young</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="95" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">95</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Richard Marx Right Here Waiting</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="96" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">96</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Chris DeBurgh The Lady in Red</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="97" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">97</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Belinda Carlisle Heaven is a Place on Earth</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="98" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">98</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Human League Don't You Want Me</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="99" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">99</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Billy Joel The Longest Time</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td sdval="100" sdnum="1033;" align="left" height="17"><span style="font-size:130%;">100</span></td> <td align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cheap Trick The Flame<br /></span></td> </tr> </tbody> </table><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />So there it is. I'm sure you're thinking, "I can't believe she put that song on there." Believe me, I already feel like making changes. But if you're really bent out of shape about it, make your own list. It's harder than it looks. Oh, and don't bother telling me that EMF's Unbelievable came out at the beginning of 1990. We figured that out just after we made the lists, and I'm too lazy to change mine.<br /><br />Next up: we're making a playlist. We've figured out that between the three of us, we have just about all of the songs. So if anyone feels like OD-ing on nostalgia, you know where to go.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-51588896555553271172009-07-30T08:18:00.001-07:002009-07-30T09:06:02.999-07:00Watching the Mariners (and Thing 3) is a Treat!<span style="font-size:130%;">Tuesday night we went to the Mariners-Blue Jays game. My brother and my cousin were here visiting, and my cousin had never been to a MLB game before, so off we went. And let me tell you, the M's did not disappoint. Bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, tie ball game, Ichiro base hit to center for the win. My oh my! Here's a picture my cousin took of that hit:<br /></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8mXtOyG0luUXwjP3W27x8mMtMVXn-slQsfXIVM-zz5kiM9ByGe3GSW6cQbpSS8gCIZ48ga26YJLdJhDNQII0URvnhStEKG-UE9KGw5_KIEMZPTPQ0Fx2yXitQxRQ47JB96mQ2dnmMmOB/s1600-h/IMG_1187.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8mXtOyG0luUXwjP3W27x8mMtMVXn-slQsfXIVM-zz5kiM9ByGe3GSW6cQbpSS8gCIZ48ga26YJLdJhDNQII0URvnhStEKG-UE9KGw5_KIEMZPTPQ0Fx2yXitQxRQ47JB96mQ2dnmMmOB/s320/IMG_1187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277858305431458" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Thing 3, our star performer, did not disappoint, either. There were some really obnoxious Blue Jays fans sitting in front of us (I knew we were in trouble when I saw their sign - "We're Drunk!!!"), and every time they finished their chants of "Let's go Blue Jays!" Thing 3 would squeak out "Let's go Mariners!" in his very loudest voice. I've never seen a four year old cheer so hard. Usually it's painful to take little kids to the ball park, but he was so much fun. The crowd loved him, and one of the Blue Jay guys even grudgingly admitted, "Now that's a true fan." But the best was when he danced to the music in between innings. My cousin caught one such moment on camera. You can hear the rest of us laughing in the background, and watch for me grabbing him before he topples into the next row.</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EQyHIWBF9xI&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EQyHIWBF9xI&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-53442805241443850572009-07-29T13:41:00.000-07:002009-07-29T17:22:58.867-07:00Seattle Rock and Roll 2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjPFyzfT0r8_bltp3h-qcCo1sQbah1XBbIBQ37wt85hcqZBcUslhtcvufTRkvl-cut0ulmp2PERi9E78bwq1e6j3Nj8m8FdLGpDFWpSmBYBj2saXPvliWEBugOLTmAXACv9_dBBWZESQ7t/s1600-h/rockandroll.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjPFyzfT0r8_bltp3h-qcCo1sQbah1XBbIBQ37wt85hcqZBcUslhtcvufTRkvl-cut0ulmp2PERi9E78bwq1e6j3Nj8m8FdLGpDFWpSmBYBj2saXPvliWEBugOLTmAXACv9_dBBWZESQ7t/s320/rockandroll.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363985691724538322" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I've been meaning to post this for a while, but we've been on vacation, then we had house guests for a while, and oh yeah, my dog ate my homework. The truth is, I have not been looking forward to writing this race report. The race did not go well. Not well at all.<br /><br />My doctor and I stuggled to figure out how I should be medicated for the race. I am by far his youngest patient; one of the nurses in the office refers to me as "That young thang," and another one asked me once if I'm still in high school. I guess that's what happens when all the other patients are 80+. Needless to say the doctor isn't used to treating patients who are training for endurance sports.<br /><br />We ended up doubling some of my meds, but that ended up being a gross underestimate of what I needed. I felt great the first five miles, but then I started feeling queasy. By mile six, I was dizzy and stuggling to not pass out. And that's how it went for the last seven miles of the race. I kept thinking about the stupid blog post I wrote the night before, dedicating the race to my kids, and how I had to finish, and how if I passed out, they wouldn't let me finish. I tried dedicating each mile to someone I loved and focusing on them, but my mind was pretty numb, and after a few seconds I just went back to trying not to hurl and keeping the blackness away. It was pathetic.<br /><br />I finally crossed at 2:30:19. I took a few steps and then just sat down because everything was going black. A race lady told me to keep moving, I told her I couldn't, and what happened next I don't know. I remember being dragged by two race workers to the medic tent. I stayed there for a while with my feet elevated and ice bags on my ankles (which felt soooo good). After a while I left because I knew Sparky would be looking for me, and what I needed was my meds and I knew they weren't going to hook me up.<br /><br />So what went wrong? I don't know. I'm kicking myself for not taking extra meds on the course with me; Sparky suggested it, but I said I'd be fine, I didn't need it. I'm frustrated because I trained well for the race. I had run three 12 mile long runs, I'd been running 24 miles a week, I'd done hill work once a week. It was frustrating putting in all that time and sweat and then being so disappointed with my time. But I'm really proud of Sparky and our friends. All of them did really well, and being with them made the experience worth it. In fact, we're doing it again next year. Sparky finished in 2:05, and he wants to get his time back under two hours. And I'm determined to redeem myself. I have an appointment with the doc soon, and we're going to figure this thing out. A friend of mine is a PT, and she scolded me after the race. "What were you thinking? You could have died!" I told her that I have to live my life. I'm not going to just sit on the couch of doom and watch other people live their lives. I want to experience things.<br /><br />I know this post is a little long, but I have to include one last thing. They had a video camera at the finish line. And I was dreading how it would turn out - Would you be able to see me pass out on camera? I'm sure it wasn't pretty. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it, but Sparky looked it up, and then told me I must have been praying hard, because I got my wish. Just after I crossed the finish line, someone bumped the camera, and you can't see anything constructive for a while (long enough for me to make my graceful exit). I tell you, it's all about those tender mercies in life.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-67623277001317852992009-06-26T09:20:00.000-07:002009-06-26T11:12:51.895-07:00Tomorrow<span style="font-size:130%;">It was just over four years ago that I was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for my life. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with me, so they put me in the oncology wing. I slept most of the time. I couldn't keep any food down. I looked like a skeleton and had dark circles under my eyes. I endured so many tests. I had transformed into a human pincushion. I was so dehydrated that they had trouble taking my blood; the barely twenty year old lab techs had to stick me five or six times every test just to hit a vein. I remember one time one of the techs just came into my room and I burst into tears.<br /><br />Lying in that room, I felt closer to God than I have at any other time in my life. I prayed a lot. I was edging close to the end of my life, and I had an overwhelming feeling that if I went, I would be okay. I had lived a good life. But I thought of my sweet husband. I thought of my three boys - six years, three years, and two months old. Still babies. They needed a mother. I had so much left to teach them. I prayed fervently to my Heavenly Father that I would get to raise my boys. And then, somehow, I knew that my prayers would be answered and I would live. The next day, the doctors figured it out - Addison's disease. Within a day or two, I was playing cards with my family, bored, ready to get out of bed and eat anything salty.<br /><br />I'm not sure if I would trade that experience. I hate that it caused my family stress, especially Sparky. I hate that I did not have enough energy to be a good mother for months before I was diagnosed. But I don't take life for granted. I thank God every day that I am alive. The time with my children is precious. My time with Sparky is a gift. The little things don't matter as much as they used to.<br /><br />When I was sick, and even just after I was diagnosed, I never thought I would be able to run again. But over the last four years, I've slowly built up my strength so that now I can run regularly. I do it for my kids. I want to be as healthy as I possibly can for them. Tomorrow is a big milestone for me. I'm running the Seattle Rock and Roll Half Marathon - my first half marathon since my diagnosis. I am dedicating this race to my kids. I'm pretty sure that they are the reason that I'm alive today. And I'm so happy to be doing this race with Sparky. Everything is ten times better when he's around.</span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-34576954546266165772009-06-14T21:31:00.000-07:002009-06-14T22:08:49.740-07:00Spring Recital 2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMErPCFUSEUpGpab-6etvik7EUP4bQhIkDF8L8SdxI-sDKpoXYIx4RxJPYPGZwZh3vOt-pOSqRN7rzh9NvLc-3FkzpP2FicubyGGte6ewF-Gsnd_MIdKx00UDDgvEuAVsciOloVeLBuRQ/s1600-h/IMG_4857.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMErPCFUSEUpGpab-6etvik7EUP4bQhIkDF8L8SdxI-sDKpoXYIx4RxJPYPGZwZh3vOt-pOSqRN7rzh9NvLc-3FkzpP2FicubyGGte6ewF-Gsnd_MIdKx00UDDgvEuAVsciOloVeLBuRQ/s320/IMG_4857.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347408595845788514" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Saturday was our annual spring recital. I couldn't be prouder of all my students. Most of them had their songs memorized, and they all were so confident up there! Thing 2 did great, playing the much loved "From A Wigwam." He told me, "No mistakes, Mom!" when he sat down. And Thing 1 made me so proud; he played his first "real" classical piece, "Waltz in B Flat" by Schubert. <br /><br />This year I did things a bit differently. First of all, I held this recital with two other piano teachers in my neighborhood, something I had never done before. It was really fun, and it was good for the kids to hear some older kids play "the real stuff." I'm hoping they gained a little inspiration, maybe enough for some practicing this summer? My fingers are crossed.<br /><br />Something else that I did differently was that after much prodding by one of the other teachers, I performed a song. I hadn't played a solo at a recital since my senior year of high school. I was trying to decide what piece to play, and thought back to that senior year when I tried to quit piano because I was so unbelieveably busy, but my teacher wouldn't let me stop. I had learned all the pieces she had wanted me to learn that year except one - "Valse Chromatique" by Benjamin Godard. It's a great piece, but it's full of crazy chromatic scales (hence the name), and I just couldn't get some of the passages down in time for my senior recital. I ended up pulling it at the last minute and playing something else. It always kind of bugged me that I never finished that piece, so I blew fifteen years' worth of dust off of it and got to work. I didn't quite play it perfectly on Saturday, but I did it. Mrs. Martin, that one was for you. It was really liberating, like getting a splinter out that's been annoying you for a while. </span>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109687406373346611.post-82070352305988128992009-06-06T16:16:00.000-07:002009-06-07T21:07:02.271-07:00Viking Fest 2009<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Here it is, the post you've all been dying to read, my second annual Viking Fest post race report. I have been waiting for the chance to ask Sparky to put together the race video, but he's been busy seeing his brother graduate from med school (way to go Corn!) and other various things. I can't believe my blog doesn't come first in his life, but whatever. Luckily I have a wonderful friend who was there and grabbed a few still shots. Note Thing 3 ran his race before I managed to get the chocolate frosting from his doughnut off his face.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7EMKFGk5naDj1HDkozbuJAf3ni85pM4tBuf-CTxy7OvZrlgmJWUixA8YiLahimrA0-klcfSJOqaepGq2vsP4qeaWk-YiDeoWvPBYbHoQ95a0cMeZ-jT2nw0FaS84ZlodSzDjIdQ1WCZY/s1600-h/VikingFestLuke.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7EMKFGk5naDj1HDkozbuJAf3ni85pM4tBuf-CTxy7OvZrlgmJWUixA8YiLahimrA0-klcfSJOqaepGq2vsP4qeaWk-YiDeoWvPBYbHoQ95a0cMeZ-jT2nw0FaS84ZlodSzDjIdQ1WCZY/s320/VikingFestLuke.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is a picture of Thing 1 and his friend, the one who convinced him to run the 5 mile instead of the 1 mile. These two have been friends since they were 3. Today at church, they both were wearing blue long sleeved shirts and ties, along with Thing 2 and Thing 3. I told the friend he fit right in with my crew - my four boys.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjLCWVh1ryU9n9G-ps24RteQvPaWBWLPxZ-kt9FDl48_6Lbdm5e-gRdw2Bl4ltmirY9Z1SnK5NGgWOTLeR3TUcmaU4EiuT7iW0JOYrC__XJchPZIsPyZAXq7xmADs9qaQQfYCQfyCEjnuE/s1600-h/VikingFestAJandJake.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjLCWVh1ryU9n9G-ps24RteQvPaWBWLPxZ-kt9FDl48_6Lbdm5e-gRdw2Bl4ltmirY9Z1SnK5NGgWOTLeR3TUcmaU4EiuT7iW0JOYrC__XJchPZIsPyZAXq7xmADs9qaQQfYCQfyCEjnuE/s320/VikingFestAJandJake.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is one of Thing 1 and me pre-race. Look how excited he is to be in a picture with his dear mother. I am proud of him, though. He finished in 46:02, way faster than I expected him to finish. I was somewhat pleased with my time, too - 40:37. I'm a little bummed that I didn't break 40 minutes, but I did set a course PR, shaving a minute and a second off of <a href="http://fireballtrainer.blogspot.com/2008/06/viking-fest-2008.html">last year</a><a href="http://fireballtrainer.blogspot.com/2008/06/viking-fest-2008.html">'s</a> time. Next year I'll have to do a little speed work and see if I can get under 40!</span> <span style="font-size:130%;">This race is so much fun. We had so many friends there and the course is gorgeous. By the way, I didn't forget about Thing 2. He had a baseball game that morning and missed the race.</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5hBVX0JbfQnnKNu4mmR5i366trHTcWWOPNR7m2JjecSLLgyB7iiSBdZ7Oop_9xE3pVy1Exhyi3zD9q5yjTnlgug3DGL4A2PfrKd2V3WRUBDEYJ4Fnpj8nGqRQHZYhEdBHXRfEQxcTYYd/s1600-h/VikingFestMarileeandAJ.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5hBVX0JbfQnnKNu4mmR5i366trHTcWWOPNR7m2JjecSLLgyB7iiSBdZ7Oop_9xE3pVy1Exhyi3zD9q5yjTnlgug3DGL4A2PfrKd2V3WRUBDEYJ4Fnpj8nGqRQHZYhEdBHXRfEQxcTYYd/s320/VikingFestMarileeandAJ.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Fireballhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08273741239432828602noreply@blogger.com2