New York City

After 3 years of postponing and rescheduling, we FINALLY did it! We spent a week in New York City over my birthday. It was a great vacation. We did and saw everything we set out to, and had an amazing time. This is what we did:

Day One:

Midtown wanderings - Times Square, Rockefeller Center, St Patrick's Cathedral, and Tiffany's

Day Two: My Birthday!!

Central Park Zoo, fancy dinner at Sardi's (a theater district hot spot), and Book of Mormon on Broadway

Day Three:

Empire State Building views and the American Museum of Natural History

Note: never EVER go to the Empire State Building for the view. Go to Top of the Rock (Rockefeller Center), it's a better view and a MUCH shorter wait.

Day Four: 

Coney Island - Beach, boardwalk, rides and famous hot dogs.

Day Five: 

Jersey, Baby! Carlo's Bakery, Sunday football at McSwiggans Pub, and Medieval Times Tournament.

Day Six: 

Downtown: Statue of Liberty, 9/11 Memorial, Freedom Tower, Brooklyn Bridge, and the Strand of course.

Day Seven: 

Central Park is easily my favorite place in NYC

And there ya have it.

Lets Catch Up

Hey everyone, sorry I've been the worst blogger in the last few months. It's been so busy at work, but now it's finally starting to slow down. I got assigned to take charge of writing the blog for my company's website! So I've been blogging just...not here. Ha! Sorry friends. I will try to be better.

Here's what you've missed:

Thanduxolo is fantastic, he made it through surgery and recovered with flying colors (despite the doubts of his doctors.) A few members of the mission team from my church were able to visit him while they were all there in May. He was doing better, but he was taken in about mid-August to reverse his colostomy. As of August 22nd he was still in the hospital on IV nutrition. This little guy is such a trooper. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers so that he may gain his strength and get back to his childhood.

Speaking of surgery, I had knee surgery! I had an MRI on my knee (which has been giving me grief since May of LAST year) and they found a plica. Yes... I know it sounds fake. Of course it's some rarity that only 20% of the population have going on and rarely does it flare up. I also had a crack in the cartilage under my kneecap which could've been the culprit for my year of pain too. So...I guess I'm lucky ;) Surgery went very well and my knee pain was immediately relieved. Physical therapy has helped me start to regain strength and normal range of motion. We're not all the way there yet, but I should be running/doing whatever I want again in 4-6 weeks.

These sweet girls took great care of me

Oh! And the puppies had their first birthday on July 14th. They've gotten so big (*sniffle.*) We celebrated with some homemade pup-cakes, some new toys/treats and a trip to Pineview Reservoir where they went swimming for the first time. Pepper swims like a big black hairy fish, and Bailey sat on the waters edge like a big weenie (actually, she did fine once Pepper stopped dunking her. Pff...sisters.)

Pups at 7 weeks old (left) and 1 year old (right)

Hope all is well with you! Have a great Labor Day weekend!

Every Day, Every Hour

Last February, I had the privilege of joining a group of about 25 people from my church on a mission trip to Swaziland, Africa where the church sponsors a Carepoint for local kids. Mkhombokati Carepoint is a place for kids to go before and after school to have a safe place to hang out and have a meal before they walk home for the day.

Mkhombokati Carepoint

The 2013 team from the church left for Swaziland first thing this morning. My heart is broken that I couldn't go this year, but moreso because of the news we received last night. Thanduxolo, a young boy of about 8 years old who starting going to the Carepoint last year while we were visiting, had a colostomy about a year and a half ago. His condition recently worsened and he has had to spend the last several days in the hospital. The doctors weren't initially confident in his ability to survive through surgery. He went into surgery early this morning, and the most recent update announced that he made it through and is now in the ICU. The surgeon says "the next 24 hours can be tough" as Thanduxolo lost a lot of blood during the surgery. Please keep your thoughts and prayers with Thanduxolo for a full recovery.

Thanduxolo and his special friend Crystal from our 2012 team

Thanduxolo is such a sweet boy, and he is the best big brother. Thanduxolo's little brother's entire life's comfort is wrapped up in him. They wouldn't go anywhere or do anything without one another. Crystal and Thanduxolo hit it off right away and became very close. My thoughts are also with her through this difficult time. The 2013 team couldn't be arriving at a better time. I know they will provide so much love and comfort to these kids and be there for Thanduxolo.

I won't go into the details of last year's trip in this post, but hopefully in the weeks to come. The entire mission trip was an experience that can never be fully explained, but even now, a year later, I can still hear the voices of these amazing children. Our group sang to them every day, but one day they blew us all out of the water with a song that I will never forget as long as I live. We were all so taken aback and emotional, in awe of the raw power behind their voices. They sang "Every day, and every hour, you are faithful O' Lord."

It's so funny how sometimes we go into a mission trip thinking "we're going to make a difference to them" but they end up changing us. These kids are the perfect example of love in its purest form.

He is good, and He will provide. Every day. Every hour.

Girls Night and Gourmet Grub

Brian went out of town to Minnesota on business this last week and left me home alone to fend for myself for 5 whole days! I had the company of the pups but my nights mostly consisted of a book/movie and a Lean Cuisine.

So Wednesday, my girl Courtney came over to relieve me of my boredom and loneliness for a fancy schmancy homemade gourmet dinner. A celebration was in order: for her upcoming and much anticipated graduation day next week. So excited and proud of that girl! But because she has had her head stuck in books, we hadn't seen each other in over a month. Unacceptable.

So we popped a couple bottles of wine, and exploded with a months worth of gabbing while we made dinner. We made a mushroom marsala with chicken over a bed of creamy polenta. Yum! The picture doesn't do it justice, but it turned out beautifully.

After dinner, we must've had a burst of confidence, enough to attempt making a chocolate souffle from scratch (having never made or even tasted one before.) I was surprised they were so easy to make! I was worried about whipping the egg whites into soft, then stiff peaks. No electric mixer in my my kitchen, we whipped it old school. It took the strength of both of our right arms but we nailed it!

Stiff Peaks!! We were way more excited than was necessary. Haha

20 minutes later we popped these babies out of the oven. I pretended to know what I was doing based on what I recently saw on Masterchef. I broke into the center of the souffle with a spoon and it came out clean. Definitely a fan of souffles now, but I don't think I'll ever be able to justify paying for one in a restaurant. Both of them cost about $6 to make (including the cost of both ramekins.)

Bailey update:
We went back to the vet on Wednesday because she still had the crazy eyes. They looked a little better but the bulging didn't go down and they seemed to be bothering her more than before. Doc gave us some prescription eye drops, and her eyes are already showing improvement 2 days later. She's beginning to look normal again!

I have to admit I think I'll miss the crazy eyes a little bit. I had a good laugh each time she looked up at me with her big eyes that looked like she was looking right and left at the same time, the opposite of cross-eyed. I am a terrible terrible person.

Hypochondriacs Anonymous

Hello, my name is Heather, and I'm a hypochondriac.

In the last few days, I've noticed that Bailey's eyeballs have become unusually large. Like they may pop right out of her head at any moment. I mentioned it to Brian, who initially didn't see a difference and deduced that I was crazy. (It's not uncommon for him to be found absolutely right in these cases.) But the other night, Brian agreed that Bailey's eyes did seem to be bulging out of her sockets.

Bailey a couple weeks ago and now

Never having seen or heard of this happening to a dog (or anything for that matter), I headed straight to Google where I came across several terrifying articles explaining "What to Do if Your Dog's Eye Pops Out of the Socket" and about how any trauma can put pressure on the ocular nerve sometimes causing blindness. PetMD is not my friend.

After reading enough of these articles to severely freak myself out, I took poor bug-eyed Bailey to the after-hours emergency vet. We piled in the car, exploded through the doors, sniffed every possible surface of the waiting room, peed on the floor, tackled the nurse, and then finally saw the doctor. He said it looked like nothing to worry about, that it's probably just allergies and some Benedryl and eye drops should take care of the inflammation. *Phew*

It was a long drive home; I drove, feeling sheepish yet relieved, and Brian smiled smugly in the passenger seat. Completely understanding as always, he is so great about easing my worries and anxiety. He puts up with my crazy so well. Poor guy will probably run for the hills before it comes time to talk about kids.

I'm so glad that Bailey's goofy looking face isn't worrisome to anyone but me; here's hoping the Benedryl and eye drops do the trick before she looks like this:

Festival of Colors

This Easter Brian and I went to the Holi Festival of Colors. Holi takes place at a Hindu Temple in Spanish Fork, UT (about an hour South of Salt Lake City.) It's so funny when I see pictures of this temple on Pinterest, labeled as being somewhere in India. It really does look authentic, but it's sitting on a farm in the middle of nowhere, Utah.

The festival of colors announces the arrival of spring and the passing of winter. It's a celebration to mark the triumph of good over evil, light over darkness, and kindness over cruelty. The colors, when thrown, represent oneness and brotherhood with all humanity: a lesson of spiritual and social harmony. There are tens of thousands of people that attend each year. Even though there are so many people everywhere, the event somehow maintains its peaceful message.

I went to the Festival of Colors for the first time about 4 years ago. Back then, it was only twice a day that they would throw the colors, and there were much more people at once. Now, they throw the colors every two hours because there are so many people that come. They've got organized parking now, vendors, security, etc. The Festival of Colors is kindof a big deal.

So basically, this is what happens:

This is us before the madness, so fresh and so clean.

Everyone gathers together in the anticipation of the count down, then the colors are all thrown in the air, and you're engulfed in a cloud of what combines to become a purple dust (by the way, the colors are scented... like roses). It's fantastic. 

After the dust settles....

We are a colorful couple. We got another packet of colors on the way back to the car. Guess what color.
Totally worth the drive, and the crowds, and the purple stuff that stays in your nose and ears for days on end. (Oh yea, blowing your nose is great fun after this.)

The fun didn't end in Spanish Fork. Bailey helped me do laundry when we got home. I found a packet with a little bit of of purple colors left in my pocket and we had a festival all our own. Awwww. She is such a trooper.

There's No Place like Home

Earlier this month, we (Brian, myself and the pups) loaded up the car and headed to my hometown of Lander, Wyoming. With a population of just over 7500, Lander is the kind of small town where everyone knows almost everyone. Lander sits near the center of the state of Wyoming in the Wind River Mountains. It's a genuinely beautiful place.

March 3rd marked my grandpa's 80th birthday (born 3/3/33), and his family and friends came from all over the place to celebrate. My mom, my uncles and aunts planned a great event at the senior center in town, where over 50 people showed up! It was kind of a surprise, he thought it was just going to be immediate family. He was surprised to see extended family and friends, but happy that both of us from Utah (plus Brian), and my "greeney" cousins from Colorado all made it. I know that none of us would have missed it for the world. Even my cousin Kadie, 8 months pregnant (or "beer belly" depending on who you ask) made the trip from Colorado Springs.

Photos courtesy of Christy Meredith

The party was a blast. A few of grandpa's family and close friends got up in front of the room to take a shot at embarrassing him. He's usually the jokester, but this time the jokes were on him. Growing up, he used to distract me at the dinner table to look the other direction while he swiped my plate from in front of me and hide it in his lap. He was always so quick about it, sneaky bugger, that I never suspected him. (I mean, why would he do such a thing!?) Other times, he would replace my silverware with a spatula instead of a fork, a ladle in place of a spoon, shotglass for my water, etc. and insisted that I attempt to eat dinner with them. Later, he graduated into the remote control whoopee cushion sound machine, hidden under the chairs at the dinner table. That was a fun little phase. Good times.

It was a short visit. Too short, as always. But it was so nice to see everyone and to have everyone together; which has become such a rarity anymore.

On the way home, the pups were pretty good in the car. Below are a couple of snapshots I took: both of them peeking out the door window to watch us pack up the car, Pepper waking daddy up from his nap on the floor, and Bailey intently interested in the passing landscape from the car. She looked out the window for a good part of the trip home. Funny dogs.

On our way out of town, I snapped this gem (below) from the car as Brian sped past. This area is always the highlight of the 300 mile drive for me. Red Canyon sits just a few miles outside of Lander; like a welcome banner, then a wave goodbye. "Until next time..."

Luck O' the Irish

La sona naomh Padraig!! (Irish for "Happy St. Patrick's Day!") I am such a sucker for holidays. Any holiday. I get all twitterpated with holiday excitement and a celebration in some form is bound to progress. There are rules and traditions to follow before these special days pass for another year. For St. Patty's, you gotta wear green or beware the pinching machine, must attempt to speak with a (bad) Irish accent, and blame your missing car keys on Leprechauns. Brian isn't big on participation or holiday cheer, but he's learned to at least go along with my shenanigans.

We stayed home for St. Patty's as the weather was less than desirable. We enjoyed the company of one another and of the puppies, we drank green beer and ate delicious "traditional" (as far as I know) Irish fare. I made Corned Beef Rubens for lunch and a hearty Shepherds Pie (stew/gravy with mashed potatoes on top) for dinner. Both were my own experiments than actual recipes, which almost never turn out exactly how I want them, but I have to toot my own horn this time and admit that they turned out to be amazing. The Shepherds Pie was definitely a hit with the man-child Brian: as "most definitely one of my favorite things you've ever made for me." Pretty high praise - he does not say this often. Twas the luck o' de Irish I guess.

I was so excited about the success that I decided to share this delightful recipe with my fabulous readers.

Corned Beef Reuben Sandwiches: (makes 2 sandwiches)

Ingredients:

• 1/2 medium yellow onion, long slices
• 1 Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 6 slices of Corned Beef (aka Irish bacon -I got slices from the deli at the grocery store)
• 4 slices Muenster cheese
• 4 slices Rye bread (I like Oroweat Dark Rye)
• Top with 1000 Island Dressing or Spicy Brown Mustard as desired

Instructions:

•  Saute onion slices over medium high heat in a small bit of olive oil until softened, meanwhile, pan fry the Corned Beef until lightly browned. Add Worcestershire sauce to onions and saute until absorbed. 
•  Add all ingredients like a grilled cheese. Just in case you've never made a grilled cheese sandwich, do the following: Lightly butter rye bread on one side, and lay buttered side down on a warmed skillet over medium heat. Add fried Corned Beef, sauteed onions, and cheese, then the other slice of bread (buttered side up.) Add 1000 Island Dressing or mustard on top rye slice if desired. Brown both bread slices. Serve warm.

It's so unbelievably easy and just as tasty. I can call it traditional because of the corned beef, but I suppose I won't truly know until I make it across the pond to the land of green myself someday. Erin go bragh! (Ireland Forever!)

***Bonus***

Just a fun little tid-bit.
This happened:

Story:
Brian took a week off work a few weeks ago to use his vacation time before he lost it. On a Sunday night, I quickly drew faces on all of the eggs while he was upstairs. I thought it would be a funny little surprise for him. I waited impatiently all week for him to say something and giggled to myself at the thought of him whipping the carton lid open and seeing these faces stare up at him.  But the dude didn't make himself breakfast all week! Finally, on the last day of his vacation, I stole his muffin that he would've eaten for breakfast, thinking it would force him to reach for the eggs. It worked. He joked that I have too much time on my hands, and that he almost didn't want to eat them...almost.

The Good Fight

Okay so, remember my resolution to read 1-2 books each month? Well let's mark January and February as a complete fail. There really is no excuse, I just didn't make time for it.

I started the year off with The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho; a genuinely remarkable read. I just finished it on March 1st. Even though it took me 2 months to read 260 pages (pathetic, I know), I thoroughly enjoyed it whenever I managed to pick it up. Paulo Coelho is an incredibly wise man. I have "ruined" (says Brian) the book with my scribbles in the margins and my underlining of passages I deem thought provoking. Which is...a good chunk of each page.

Throughout the book, an underlying message of the "good fight" appeared again and again:

"The good fight is the one that's fought in the name of our dreams. When we're young and our dreams first explode inside us, we are very courageous, but we haven't yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight but by then we no longer have the courage to go to combat. We become our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams are childish, or too difficult to realize,or the result of our not having known enough about life.We kill our dreams because we're afraid to fight the good fight."

And I sat there and pondered...what's my "good fight?" What am I supposed to be "fighting" for?

For those of you that know me well, you know that my great love is for travel. Like...obsessed! I saw most of the United States in high school, but I sprouted an interest in other cultures, religions and languages in college. I actually graduated with my Associates degree in Humanities. (Most of you are like, whaaa?) And almost everyone asked me, "what are you going to do with that?" When I said "something to do with travel, like a travel agent or cultural anthropologist." Then they told me it was a waste, and not practical. But, it's still what I want to do every day. Even if all I do is plan fabulous vacations for others and never go myself. It makes me happy.

"When you travel, you experience, in a very practical way, the act of rebirth....Adapting oneself to new situations and receiving in return all of the thousands of blessings that life generously offers to those who seek them."---Paulo Coelho, The Pilgrimage

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On another note, Brian and I took a field trip to Barnes & Noble a couple of weeks ago; Brian had a gift card left over from Christmas that he had been dying to redeem. (He found 3 great books he's really excited about -  he read the first 50 pages of one in the store before he bought it. Thanks Gene and Deb!) He even let me use his remaining $1.32 toward my purchase. What a gentleman. Ladies, I'm keepin this one. No, but really, he's great.

While he was nerding out in the Sci-Fi section, I had my own geek-fest in the Travel Essays. I spent over an hour navigating a whole shelf and a half; I stood there like a star-struck teenager. I had butterflies furiously flapping in my stomach. I stood there flipping through, reading, day dreaming, reminiscing about my own travel disasters. That's when I realized...this is my dream. At least once, I want to be one of these crazy nomads that drops everything and spends their savings on an unbelievable year long trip to everywhere, for no other reason than to see what happens. I'm way too impatient to save it for my mid-life crisis. Anyway I left the bookstore with a discounted Ken Follett novel, Walden, and about 45 pictures of books that went straight onto my wish list on Amazon.com. Of that entire shelf of Travel Essays, probably 3 of them didn't make it on that list.

What can I say? It's my passion. For a while now I've toyed around with the idea of taking an online course in Travel Writing. (Yes, there is such a wonderful thing.) And now, I'm seriously thinking I'll give it a shot. Gotta go for it... gotta fight the good fight.

My Funny Valentine (Disclaimer: Contains Mush)

Who got spoiled stinkin rotten this Valentines? This girl! Brian surprised me with a flower delivery to my office on Tuesday, and a box of chocolate covered strawberries on Wednesday. Holy moly did I get the royal treatment or what! To top it all off, my sweet guy took me to Tuscany (the restaurant, not the city, but I was just as happy) for Valentines dinner where we sampled some pretty fancy Italian food. 

I was presented with a single red rose by the hostess as she led us upstairs to the balcony. We were seated in a semi-private area of only 4 tables under a beautiful stained glass dome of grape vines (it's the UFO looking thing at the top of the picture below.) The best part of the night had to be that Brian was somewhat unimpressed and a little grossed out by the pork belly appetizer. Amazing man that he is, he sat with my finished seafood appetizer in front of him while I devoured his as well. (I was also not a fan of the pork belly, but the polenta and the sauce that was under it was worth licking the plate clean. Which I did with bread; civilized and whatnot.) 

I got him some cologne and a bag of mini-Snickers. I feel like I did nothing in comparison but I swear that's what he wanted, and he was excited. Whatever works I guess, he's pretty low-maintenance. Anyhow, it was an amazing week and it was great spending it devoted to my best friend. I am so lucky to have him in my life, I know I'd be lost without him. Thanks hun, for being my rock and for sharing your appetizers, I mean,  your life with me. You're the best. 

I hope everyone had a fantastic Valentines Day with loved ones - be it your significant other, family, friends, or dog.

What Do You Mean You Don't Bake the Baby?

It's Mardi Gras, "Fat Tuesday," and since I couldn't be in New Orleans with my people, I took the party to the office. Any day that begins with eating King Cake for breakfast is the mark of a very good day. Add some festive beads and you've got fabulous.

Exhibit A

King Cake was so named for the biblical three kings. The cake is baked in a circle and sprinkled with three colors of sugar: purple (symbolizing justice), green (faith), and gold (power.) Inside every cake is a tiny baby to represent Baby Jesus. It's a sign of good luck to whoever finds the baby in their slice, and they are expected to host the next King Cake party.

Whilst in New Orleans this past October, I picked up an "authentic" King Cake mix in a box from a vendor at the airport. Last night, the mix finally made its debut in my kitchen. I tore open the colorful box, and pulled out the little bags of individual ingredients: the cake mix, glaze mix, the colored sugars, and yeast. Yes...yeast. Unbeknownst to me, King Cake is more of a bread-like, cinnamon roll ish pastry. "You mean to tell me this thing has to rise twice before baking!?" I cursed to myself, and debated not making it. I'm an instant cake mix type of girl: rip, dump, stir, bake, done. This cake had a 12 step program.

So I stirred...let it rise for 30 minutes, flattened and sprinkled praline sugar over butter (God bless the South), formed the dough into a circle, shoved the baby into the dough...let rise for 30 minutes...again...then baked it. The kitchen was a mess, not to mention the dogs. Constantly at my feet, everything I dropped they wore. And when I ripped open the bag containing the praline sugar, because I just don't know my own strength, Pepper was covered in half of its contents. And there she stood...frozen in place and terrified, her big eyes pleading "get it off, get it off, get it off!"

With about 5 minutes left of baking time, my hand flew to my forehead. I looked at Brian with my mouth agape as I connected the dots...the baby was plastic...and now it was in the cake...in the oven. There were some profanities muttered on my way to the oven. I argued with myself that there were no instructions regarding the baby on the recipe card...but upon second glance, there it was in big bold letters: "DO NOT PLACE BABY IN CAKE BEFORE BAKING."

Well...it looked fine. I stared at it for a couple minutes, picturing a melted plastic mess somewhere in the cake. I sectioned off about a third of the circle, the area I believed to be the region that hid the baby. I considered several delicate ways of searching but none offered any results. There was no other way. I had to massacre the cake. If I couldn't find it, I would be threatening the lives of my co-workers. It was a sacrifice I had to make, but I finally found it. To my surprise, it was still in tact. (Well played, cake mix maker, well played.) It started off white and was pink after baking. All in all, no damage, just a little sun burn. The rest of the cake was enjoyed by all in the Houseboating office; Amber had even confirmed the taste to be authentic. (Not like plastic? Good, that's what I was shooting for.) No one died, so I can officially file this experience as a WIN. I suppose you could even call it a miracle...after all, the baby is Jesus.

Let the Good Times Roll!

Fat Tuesday is always the day before Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of the Christian season of Lent. Lent lasts "40" days (more like 45) and ends the day before Easter. Traditionally, participants will give something up in order to practice discipline for those 40 days. I usually try to give up going out to eat, take out and fast food - just plain eating unhealthily. I don't always succeed in the way I hope, but I'll give it another shot this year too. (With the exception of Valentines Day, but I'll make it up to God with an extra day on the end.) I have also realized I need to add more spiritual practice in my life. I've slacked off after I stopped going to my previous home church. So I'm committing to attend another church each Sunday, and I'll keep a journal of daily devotionals (shout out to whoever invented the Bible App.) I'm hoping to build a new habit that outlasts Lent, but as anything else in life - I'm sure it's going to be harder than it sounds.

Anyone else celebrate Mardi Gras/Lent? What are your traditions, what are you giving up for Lent? Swearing, road rage, candy?

Life on the Fast-Track

It was Devin's birthday on Monday (he's one of Brian's good buddies, and mine by association). The plan was to get a group together for Go-Karting to celebrate. I have never go-karted before, but have always been curious to try. It was mid-day Monday that I started questioning if I should go or not, and began thinking of excuses to abort mission Fast-Track. (To be fair, my knee was giving me a fair amount of grief until later that afternoon.) But I also worried that I was going to be in the way of "guy time" or whether I would severely embarrass myself in a way that only seems possible when it happens to me. Despite my better judgement, I hitched up my proverbial pants and psyched myself into going. 

There were about 12 people (including myself) in our group, I was the only girl but I didn't mind that; (I kid myself into thinking I can "roll" with the boys.) I signed up and got my racing license, racing name: Travelbug. I was ready to make some boys cry. So we strut out to the track to gear up in our racing helmets and pick our karts for the line-up. I sat down and reached behind me for my seat belt, then looked at it puzzled. Was it one that goes around each arm and connects in the middle? Nope, just one loop. I looked around and everyone else had a simple no-questions-asked, car-type belt that extended across the body over one shoulder. I looked at mine again. Nope, definitely not the case. The "pit crew" attendant saw my struggle and pointed out that it was to go over my head and then connect to another that's fixed on the seat. Again, I looked around puzzled. Mind you, the whole time I'm wearing the bulky helmet, the kind that hinders your view no matter what contortions you can put your neck through. There wasn't anything to connect this belt to! Finally I wriggled myself (rather clumsily) out of the tiny awkward cart so the attendant could yank the other side of the belt from where it was jammed under the seat (go figure.) Meanwhile, every guy waiting in their carts for me to figure this out had this face:

Luckily, being stumped by a seat belt is not high on the list of things that can easily damage my ego. Then we were off! The 10 lap (dis)qualifying round began and I was quickly in last place. If you've never driven a go-kart before - it's a lot different than driving a car. Not hard, but different. Apparently the only beginner in the crowd, I floundered all the way around the track screeching and bumping...at about 10 mph. But getting the hang of the kart was the least of my problems. The racing helmets, though safe, block your peripheral view entirely. Might as well squeeze your noggin into the hole of a cinder block. (And I get claustrophobic in an airplane.) So about 3/4 of the way around my second lap, I was hyperventilating and shaking so dramatically that I turned off into the pit stop where the crew attendant cut the engine and helped me out of the aforementioned seat belt.

I splashed my face with some water and sat with my head between my knees for awhile, after which I was completely fine. From that point on I watched from the lobby window and silently cheered them all on. All the while mumbling to myself in a deep announcer voice. I'm certain the employees all thought I was insane. Actually it was probably more fun to watch them all bump in to each other and watch their faces as they screeched around tight corners, not sure if they would make it. Boys. They never grow up, they just get bigger. After two rounds, they all came back through the lobby with their chests all pumped up and big ol grins on their faces like:

They stood around the final ranking board and compared stories on which of their group was the most difficult to pass, who blocked who on what turn, etc. So even though I didn't actually get to race, I was very well entertained. My go-karting days are far from over. I will conquer the track one day. But until then, I guess I'll have to stick to the freeways.

An Old Friend and a Chili Cookoff

Brian's "otha brotha," Tugi, came from Virginia to visit and do some serious snowboarding. He was only staying in Layton one night, so the Park clan threw a nice little gathering for dinner. A good time and amazing food was had by all. Terri (mama Park) put together a fabulous fiesta! Chicken fajitas and tacos with all the fixins: Mexican rice, re fried beans, guacamole...the works. They let me bring an appetizer/dessert this time (sometimes I wonder if they doubt my mad kitchen skills.) I made a delicious Fruit Salsa with Cinnamon Sugar chips. It was so yummy! Click for the >>Recipe<< I love Pinterest.

Kim w/ Claire, Becky, Caleb w/ Carson, and John

Brian, Tugi, Terri and I

The following day, Go Travel had a Chili cookoff to kick off Superbowl weekend. (Any excuse to work as little as possible.) The contenders: Stacy, Joe, Pam, Chris and myself were to face off in an epic battle of the beans.

When a reminder was sent throughout the office the day before judgement day, it was brought to our attention that there had been a minimal (nonexistent) amount of trash talk leading up to the event. So of course the office explodes with emails boasting their superior recipes from generations past, with supposed "Mayaztincan" (Mayan, Aztec and Incan) origin, and another from the far away land of Detroit. Mine? I probably got it off of the internet, but I've changed the recipe so much that I think I can officially call it my own; with exotic flavors of canned whats-its and prepackaged turkey. But...it is really good chili. One problem...I don't know how to trash talk! One of the many unfortunate misgivings of being an only child. So I did what I always do in times of uncertainty...I Googled it. WikiHow took me through the 5 step program of "How to Trash Talk:"

• Step #1 - insult your opponents mothers
• Step #2 - LIE. false trash talk is most effective
• Step #3 - repeat the previous steps as necessary
• Step #4 - if you lose, discontinue trash talk and hide immediately
• Step #5 - challenge opponents to another match

I don't know who violated Pam's flyer (aca-Stacy)

Pam had already posted fliers in the kitchen and around the office promoting her "Chili con Gringo" (I don't think she actually put whitey IN the chili though, don't worry.) I, being the not-so-confrontational type, whipped up my own trash talking flyer. 

*Not for wussies

It got ugly and lasted until minutes before the contest. We eventually let the chili do the talking with a blind taste test for our Judge panel: Amber, Tom, and Jonathan. Brave souls that they are, they rated us very highly and it was very close! Joe got first place (I'm sure he bribed someone on the panel - Joe wins everything, and is therefore banned from future work contests.) Actually it was very good. I don't remember where everyone else placed but I got 3rd (out of 5). A comfortable middle - I've decided that I'm okay with that. I was told later that I shouldn't have played it so safe with the heat: I toned it down a little where I should have kicked it up! Next time there will be no question.

Anyhow, who can beat a work day like that? Chili and trash talk really brought us all together.

I love my job.

My Medical Mystery

So many of you have inquired about my injuries and why I've been spending so much time at the doctor. I guess it's about time for an explanation, so here's the short and sweet version:

In May of last year, I began training for a half-marathon again (I hadn't trained for a few months,) and I guess I just turned up the volume too quickly on my mileage. Had some pain in my knee and was told to take it easy for awhile. My doctor told me it was most likely just runners knee and it should heal up with rest. So I iced it, elevated it, and ate Ibuprofen like it was candy. After about a month and a half it had still not gone anywhere, so my Doc suggested physical therapy. My physical therapist had me doing some quad-strengthening exercises, nothing intense. But with these exercises came unbelievable pain and inflammation in my foot. (This is what has every doctor scratching their heads.)

It's been 8 months and the pain has not lifted - actually it progresses slowly over time, and has made it to my lower back as well. I'm doing physical therapy for my back, and it helps, but that's coming to a stand still as they are hesitating to continue until they know for sure what's going on between my knee and foot. (They have more of those quad strengthening exercises for me, which still have me writhing in pain for a few days after doing them.)

Long story short, I've had MRIs on my foot and back, as well as an EMG to rule out anything nerve related. The latest test was an ultrasound of my entire leg by a Vascular Surgeon - who could only shrug. I've seen just about every doctor - and referral after referral I get passed along from doctor to doctor, specialist to specialist...and the cycle continues. Meanwhile, it's driving me crazy not being able to do much of anything exercise-wise. So I keep going to doctor after doctor, because I have to hope that eventually I will find someone who will know or will find out. *Sigh*

It's been quite a circus act, but I'm keeping my chin up. :) If you know how to solve this medical misery mystery, please don't hesitate to share. Thanks all for your support during all of this. It's helped more than you know.

The Cone of Shame

Last August, Brian and I finally broke down and decided to get ourselves a puppy. We drove all the way to Provo to see some 7 week old Pit Bull/Lab mixes. Oh I could've scooped all of them up in a box and taken them all, but we were there to decide on just one. Brian wanted a black one, so I put my blinders on and tried to connect with one of the two beautiful and super sweet black pups. We both fell in love with Pepper, but while we were playing with the other puppies, a little brown one hopped in my lap and curled up for a cuddle. I wasn't paying any attention to the brown ones, but this one was so snuggley and loving that I just couldn't leave her behind. That brown baby became known as Bailey. I looked at Brian with pleading eyes and of course he obliged. After all, he had been sitting in puppy heaven, drunk on puppy breath along with me, so he was pretty easily convinced. I was nervous at first but looking back, I wouldn't have done it any other way. Two was definitely the way to go. They're so much more at ease when you bring them home because they have something familiar at their side, and they keep each other entertained.

Pepper

Bailey

My sweet puppies Pepper and Bailey turned 6 months old this week! And to celebrate, we got them spayed (sorry kids.) I was a wreck the week leading up to the surgery. I had dreams that two dogs went in and only one came out; it was beyond horrible. Brian was the one who took them in Thursday morning, and then picked them up at the end of the day. The surgery went fine but the pups were just a bit groggy and sore when they got home.

Of course, just in time for me to come home from work on Thursday, there was a huge snow storm. A 30 minute drive took me about 2 hours. It's in times like those that I really appreciate the all wheel drive in my Subaru. The roads were packed with snow and bumpy with ice, and traffic crawled. When it wasn't stop and go, it was 10mph. I was dying to see my poor babies; I had been worrying about them all day long.

Had already been driving 45 mins, and still over an hour to get home!

Okay, so they didn't actually get a cone to wear as the title suggests, but they had some pretty pitiful faces when I finally got home. Bailey was a trooper and was up and about, but sleepy. They both just wanted to cuddle up with us all night. Pepper was very sore, and reminded herself several times of which ways not to move. She usually does a Superman leap off the couch, which she quickly figured out she shouldn't perform for a few days.

Sad faces. Pepper kinda blends in, but you can see her little white toes

Brian took the whole week off to hang out with them, and I got to join him on Friday. We didn't get a whole lot accomplished other than the several naps we shared with the puppies, (and the staring contest Brian lost with Bailey - picture below) but all in all it was a great day. Pups are doing well, and pretty much back to normal. I love our little family.

Collapsing Christmas & Back to Real Life

Welp, it's about that time after The Most Wonderful Time of the year when the Christmas cookies have all been eaten and the Tree becomes a beautifully decorated fire hazard. Our tree barely made it to The Day, and became a dusty needley mess. It probably didn't help that the tree served as a puppy snack from its entrance until its demise, but it gave Pepper and Bailey refreshingly piney puppy breath (which I must admit was not altogether unpleasant.)



So on New Year's Eve, I sadly plucked each ornament, candy cane and yanked each string of lights off of it's stiff dry branches, then stuffed them in the Fortune Cookie storage box to wait in the dark for another 12 months. Brian rolled the tree out the door and threw it in the snow on the curb. So sad. 

After taking everything down, Brian and I made Jambalaya and watched Up, then Ice Age 4 (because we're 10 years old) until right before midnight so we could count down with the residual Times Square celebration aired to MST. With the puppies tucked and curled by my legs under the blanket on the couch, I counted down with the crowd in NYC: 10, 9, 8...the excitement was building 6, 5, 4...and then finally 3,2,1! I turned to Brian for a New Year's kiss and...he was sleeping. He probably zonked out at about 9:30. Lame.

The first week of January: in lieu of my staple resolution that visits me for the first two weeks of every year, I have begun construction on my eating habits. Because of an injury, I can't really do much exercise except for Physical Therapy at the moment, but that's another story. I have been logging my daily intake on MyFitnessPal.com (sign up and friend me!) and have been trying to take short walks when I can. In the first few days, I was severely discouraged by my famine. I did so well at work, and by the time I got home I was ravenous. Nothing was safe. And I was so disappointed the next morning when recounting the shamefulness from the night before.

I hit Pinterest, and I hit it hard. I came up with a few solutions and found a winner. Bell pepper "chips" and salsa. You cut up a couple bell peppers (I used green) into chip-like chunks, spray with olive oil, and dust with garlic powder. Bake them at 400F for about 10 minutes. I don't even think I waited for the oven to finish preheating or for the timer to go off. My friends, it's delicious. And it's a lot of food! I had trouble finishing it and the whole plate was under 150 calories.

I am also not a breakfast person. I struggle to find something I can have at work that is quick and easy and won't pack on the pounds (especially with an Einsteins Bagels just a parking lot away.) But I may have found a solution. Ham and egg cups. Not only are they adorable, but they are scrumptious, and only 117 calories so you can even have it with half of an English muffin and still be good to go. Another one of my favorite switches is for dinner. I don't know about you, but pasta is a serious weakness of mine. Good thing I found out that zucchini strings are just as tasty. You can still put whatever sauce and toppings on it you like and not miss out on any of the taste.

Well, that's enough of my rambling. How are you all doing with your resolutions? I hope you're all staying warm and safe wherever you are.