Uniquely... Adept at Killing Arachnids

The campus at Utah State is one of my more favorite places on earth. In the summer the grass is green, flowers are everywhere, and the sky above is blue... one might even say Aggie blue. On a day such as this not too long ago, Christina and I were basking in our surroundings as we long boarded on the Quad. As we were leaving campus Christina took her long board right over the curb and into the parking lot. So impressed was I that she had effectively "jumped the curbed" that I immediately threw my right hand into the air offering the universal symbol of "that was freakin' awesome": a high five. As Christina and I slapped hands and then retracted our arms again I felt something slightly moist on my palm. Now, noone likes a moist palm but I think it's safe to say that noone likes to blame their best friend for having moist palms, either. (Little did I know that as I was silently judging Christina for having too-wet hands, she was silently judging me, also.) In an effort to conceal my dislike for my new post-high five situation I looked down at my hand to see how I could effectively dry it out without offending. As I looked down I discovered with both relief and chagrin that indeed Christina was not the offender! Three wet, crinkled spider's legs stuck to the flesh of my palm begging me to ask the question: "Christina, do you have a dead spider on your hand?" Fortunately we have the kind of friendship where such questions don't seem an anomaly and she simply took it at face value and checked her palm. I had definately gotten the better end of the deal: my friend's palm uncovered an enormous spider's body and remaining legs, crushed in the wrath of our spontaneous high five. Poor spider never saw it coming. As for Christina and I, our friendship is all the better for our murderous high-five talents and spider killing prowess. We're also glad to know that neither of us suffers from the moist palm.

Moving. AGAIN.

I am SOOO over moving. In the last 10 months I have moved 3 times... seriously, I have a problem. This is the latest adventure in moving and I am excited about my new apartment as well as my new roommate who I will refer to hereafter as Sib. (Not do be confused with Cyb of the schizo or Shepard genre...)

Nate, Hollie, Sib and I moved all of our things in one evening. That's pretty impressive considering I wasn't even packed when I picked up the UHaul. Also impressive? I picked up the UHaul! It was definitely one of those "I'm a big kid now moments..." Similar to buying a power tool...

Sib and I were extremely grateful for the help of our brother and soon to be sis-in-law. A little insight: my TV is from 1980 and weighs about 300 tons. Moving that sucker was a thing of beauty and a joy forever. We rewarded ourselves with Crown Burger, of course. This is a family tradition that I
love. Come to think of it, this tradition could be the reason I move so often! In my effort to get in shape I have left the Crown in the dust, except for the special occasion of moving. In fact I'm craving another move...

Look forward to the new apartment. Couldn't be happier about being closer to Downtown as well as the U. Good times ahead. Go Aggies!

Bryce Canyon: Running, Sleeping, Hiking. In that order.

Went to Bryce Canyon a few weeks ago to run in a 5K. I took my sisters and mom along with me and we made a mini family vacation out of it which was so much fun. (It’s been 4 years since we’ve done any sort of trip… we’re lame sauce). On our way down we stopped in Panguitch at Henrie’s for dinner. My “healthy choices” diet went right out the window at this point. When they name their burger “Chubby Cheese” there is no going back... I’m just a sucker for alliteration I guess.

Friday night we found Cannonville Park with 10 minutes to spare and I picked up my race packet. This was my first running race (others have been cycling) so I was excited but scared at the same time: could I really haul myself 3+ miles in the desert? It was a baby step, but an important one for me. The next morning came extremely early and my baby sister commented that she had “never been up before the sun before”. Cliff bar, banana, and off to the races! Some of you know that I trashed my knee a few days before the race, so I was worried about running on it. My knee held up just fine, my pants, however, did not. In my hurry to pack I brought a pair of shorts that I usually use for biking. They used to fit pretty snug so I figured they would be fine for the run. Never underestimate the importance of waistband in running. My non-waistbanded shorts kept falling off me and thus I held them up with my right hand for the entire run. People were even commenting: how’s it going with the pants? Awesome. The race was through Bryce and it was beautiful. Crossing the finish line was so great and helped me to realize that we really can do whatever we put our minds to.

The rest of the weekend was a blast and I am so glad that my family includes people that I consider to be my closest of friends. I had so much fun with “the girls” and am glad we had the mini adventure. Some highlights: horseback riding along the rim of the canyon (and getting chased by a steer… I said a lot of swear words… can’t lie); sleeping for 12 hours only to wake up at 3am for a game of Skip-O; hiking, hiking, and hiking. What a great weekend. Thanks mom, Krys and Tay!!

Here’s a slideshow with more pictures. roll your cursor over the pic for explanations if you wish...

Uniquely... Bound for Broadway

They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway. They say there’s always magic in the air (Mann and Weil, 1963). So why not be a part of it, right? This weeks orientation class found me confessing one of my deepest and truest desires: I want to star in a Broadway musical. I want to hang out with the likes of Patti Lupone, Idena Menzel, Liza Manneli, and Betty Buckley. I would like to sip lemonade in the Park with Stephen Sondheim as we discuss his newest project. I want to belt out emotion at the top of my lungs as Tracy Turnblad or Elphaba. Is it too much to ask? What I need is an agent, someone who will get me discovered. Let’s start at the beginning though: voice lessons, then agent, then discovery, then lemonade. If this dream can't come true I will settle for daily life becoming a musical. You know, spontaneous dance and song in the middle of the afternoon. Better go put my dancing shoes on...

Juxtaposition. Or, why the world is so confused

The south end of Oklahoma City features one of my favorite streets in the connected 48. This particular area is called Capitol Hill. Apparently it used to be the state capitol back in the day when Roy Rogers was all the rage. Although I do love me some cowboy, this is not the reason for my afan. Capitol Hill holds a lot of memories for me that bring me back to my eager-beaver missionary days. Walking up and down the street accosting strangers to give them pass along cards, picking up pass along cards that people threw in the bushes, volunteering at the ginormous Christmas charity store, Chelino’s pan dulce and snack shelves, the excellent taco place on the corner, and Moses. Good ole Moses, the homeless Native American who chased my companion and me down the street with a ridiculously large stick… that’s right: Moses, big stick… you do the math. My favorite part about the street however was the hole in the wall bar. Day to night this smoke-infested love barn was filled with drinkers (read: alcoholics). What’s more? Right next door to the bar is the local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Really? We’re going to put the AA next to the bar? Isn’t that a bit like putting the child molester in juvie? Or making Martha Stewart relocate to Taiwan? Turns out this is the case all over OKC. Bar-AA-Bar-AA-Bar-AA. Are they in cahoots? Is this like the Lowe’s/Wal Mart partnership? The AA is either snagging them before they get to the bar, or upping their meeting numbers by dragging every drunken arse to the circle of trust after a few shots. Either way, we’re not exactly making life easy.

Yesterday I was at the gym and realized this kind of rationale is everywhere, not just the windy streets of Oklahoma. The Gold’s Gym in Sandy towers into the sky, a multi-leveled representation of blood, sweat, tears, and strength- all in the name of good health. However, once you step a tennis-shoed foot outside those shiny front doors it’s like you are in fast food Sodom and Gomorrah: Wendy’s, KFC, Taco Bell, and the real kicker… Blimpie’s. We all know that no one really eats at Blimpie’s, but just the sheer title of this chain makes us feel so gluttonous that we have to grace our local drive thru............................................................................

Dear city planners: WTF? A girl can’t lose the relief society arm when her bicep curls are chased by a frosty. Please help.

Uniquely... Terrified of Sharks

My first venture into my self psyche was to share my irrational, ridiculous, incapacitating fear of sharks. I think it's safe to say that this fear has surpassed the normal scared stage and settled nicely into being a full blown phobia. I don't just fear sharks while in the ocean, I panic while swimming in lakes, canoeing in rivers, or even while hanging out in the neighborhood pool (the shadows look like sharks... I swear). It's rather ridiculous.

During a few weeks in Boston a friend and I travelled to Walden Pond to swim, lounge on the Massachussetts beach, and enjoy a little history. This "pond", made famous by American writer Henry David Thoreau, is actually not a pond at all. It's an enormous lake... but it's still a lake. No ocean access, no way that sharks could actually be in there. As Adam and I swam out into the middle of the lake I noticed the deep, dark water and how cold it was out in the middle. I realized how far I was from the shoreline. And then I realized the one thing that always sends me over the edge: I couldn't see my toes below me. If I can't see my toes, how could I see my impending shark-doom?

I panicked. Right then and there I had a panic attack in the lake and nearly drown. Good thing Adam was there! He put me into a back float and took me back to shore. (It was basically vacation time-out... I was acting ridiculously!)

So there it is. My name is Okie, and I have a problem. It's true that Sharks may never kill me; but my fear of sharks definately could!

You Are Special... Just Like Everyone Else

Every week I teach an orientation class for our new hires here at the funny farm. Every orientation begins with introductions. You know the kind: "Hi my name is (what?), my name is (who?), my name is (slicka slim shady)." Part of the drill is that everyone must say something unique about themselves. This is always a bit awkward for our new hires, the majority of whom are 16-18 years old and a bit too self-aware. I watch a new group every week as they struggle to find a unique thing that is A) cool enough to share, B) something that will get their peer's approval, and C) true. They do pretty well with it. For over a year and a half I've mentioned the same old things as the unique things: scars, broken bones, etc. My current challenge is that I'm bored in orientation. From now on I'm going to name a different unique thing every week, come hell or high water. ( I prefer high water). And guess what my blogging comrades? I shall post it right here! I figure it will add a fun side to the blog while also keeping out of comatose stages at work. Stay tuned for weekly snippets and tid-bits to the weird things that are the total sum of... ME.