Just a Taste of Luxury

I have always thought the day I make it in the world will be defined by how often I can eat bacon.  It won’t be the day I am dripping in diamonds, or organizing my Beauty and the Beast library, or jetting all of the world just to end up in my favorite villa in Tuscany. No the day that I am filthy rich will be the day that I can walk into my kitchen and hear this:

Armand {my personal chief}: Well, good morning Mrs. Marsden, would you like some bacon with your stuffed French toast.

Or

Armand: Mrs. Marsden, would you like a midnight bacon snack for you and James.

Or even

Armand: Mrs. Marsden, would you care for a bacon syrup smoothie for your jet to Italy?

As you can see, I am overly fond of bacon. So when Jill heard that Burger King just came out with a bacon sundae, I was the first person she texted {I sincerely hope this is true}

Unfortunately, I got this text at 11:00 in the morning and I was still at work {wa wa wa…}. And for some reason, it’s not ok to abandon a student mid-tutoring appointment to go try out a new treat filled with bacony delight…completely unfair if you ask me.

But fortunately, I work with my kind of people. The kind of people that would love to try out a bacon blend filled with childhood curiosity. So I sent them the news release premiering Burger King’s Bacon Sundae – A.K.A. the best decision since they started selling Hershey’s Chocolate Cream Pies - and we immediately formed a plan.

While I stayed to tutor little Timmy in adverbs, the boys went to grab the treat for all of us.

There were four adventurous souls that tried this tasty concoction and it got a unanimous mmm mmm mmm mmm.

It was smooth and creamy with light bacon flecks of salty pleasure woven throughout and laced with velvety caramel and rich chocolate. Then out of nowhere comes this large chunk of bacon that stands the length of the container. A tempting piece that dares you to try and save it till the last, but few fight the allure for long.

All in all, we loved it.

Anyhoo, now I know where to get a taste of the rich life I can look forward to enjoying once James and I get married.

P.S. Kel read this post and just had to try it for herself. I do believe my little bacon discovery knocked her sandals right off. Here are some pictures from our adventure.

Just look at my little face, only money could buy that kind of happiness....and that's why I need lots of it.

Park City and The Elusive Outlets: A Comedy

Last week, mom came down to help take care of little Boyd and the twiners while Candace finished up her undergraduate {congrats Candace!!}. This was wonderful news for me because - other than being able to spend time with my mom - I got to go to the eye doctor! A visit that has been in the making for three years.

See for the past couple of years my eyes have started to burn and itch uncontrollably. This misery also has an obnoxious side affect: my eyes are consistently red. A fact that makes it hard to maintain relationships with people who don't like hanging out with a red-eyed freak and ultimately results in my overuse of red eye drops: not an ideal fix.

Anyhoo, I went. I can see. I have friends once again.

But that is hardly the point to this story. Mom and I did more than just visit the Eye doctor {not that that isn't fun enough for both of us...}. On Saturday, I wanted to plan a fun little trip and I settled on going to Park City. A resort town known for its mining origins, fancy stores, skiing enthusiasts, and overall cuteness. And as a special treat we would go to the outlet mall rumored to be "right by" Park city.

The smart idea would have been to get directions beforehand so we wouldn't spend hours yelling at my mom's gps...but I thought modern technology would never lead us astray {HA!}. We found Park City main street just fine and we spent most of the day walking up and down visiting the little overpriced shops.

Our personal favorite was the Rocky Mountain Chocolate store. Since this was the last stop on our little tour of the town, we thought we would ask the store workers if they could direct us to the outlet mall. This is when we met Little Billy, a nervous little fellow estimated to be about 16, and Hans Hans, a German {this may or may not be their actual names}. The interaction went as follows:

Me: {directed towards little Billy} Could you tell us how to get to the outlet mall?

Little Billy: {whispering} Um...well, there's this street...mmmmm..and you go on it and then, then there's Walmart... um... gulp so, ya Walmart.

Me: {My thoughts: ok little Billy, let's focus} I don't know where Walmart is, sorry, could you explain it again?

Little Billy: {still whispering} um...ok...um, 7 Eleven on right side....go go past...and um gulp...

And this is where Hans Hans came in...

Hans Hans: Outlet Store ya? Youa go downa the road and it'sa at the end. Passa McDonalds and Walmart. {clearly my ability to write accents is atrocious, but I do the best I can}.

Me: Um, is there any way we can get street names?

That seemed to really confuse them so Mom focused on getting Little Billy to talk and I stuck with Hans Hans. For about 5 minutes I nodded, mentally trying out a German accent, while mom had little success with Billy.

We left the store 5 minutes late at a complete loss on how to get to these elusive stores, but we had toffee so all was right with the world.

I then texted my friend Jordan for directions. She told us to go North. We didn't know where North was. So we turned to Mom's "smart phone".

This trickster device found great pleasure in directing us away from main street and then forcing us to take sharp turns and random one way streets up the mountain and back down to main street. I threatened to toss the little cad if mom didn't turn it off. 

I called Jordan again. She gave us specific street by street directions. Bless her. Apparently the Rocky Mountain boys were right about it being near McDonalds, 7 Eleven, and Walmart. But they all left out one important detail: you must turn before you pass McDonald's. Failure to do so results in entering the freeway, freaking out, and being forced into driving 10 miles back to Park City.

I think our time in the car was divided between angry rants and uncontrollable giggling.

I say with great delight that we found the outlets.

Our little trip may have caused some unpleasant outbursts {gps and I still haven’t reconciled} but overall it was a wonderful day and I have cute discounted Banana Republic skirt to prove it.  

  

I enjoy this...

Climbing Something Awesome

I can’t walk today. In fact, I am currently wincing as I type this because I can’t seem to sit without wanting to die. 

I think my left leg is out of place…but I’m no doctor.

So why is my entire body throbbing? Let me tell you a little story.

I don’t know if you read my previous post on goals, but one of them was to climb something awesome. I originally thought this statement referred to climbing Mount Timpanogos, an intense climb that takes about 8 hours.

HA! What can I say, I’m a lot more athletic and sporty in theory.

I now realize I should have just applied my goal to hiking to the Y {30 min climb}.

So Wednesday night I got home from a long day of work…exhausted. My only goal was to read Tess of the D’Ubervilles and relax. A nerdy goal that explains why my recreational habits were not up to par with hiking.

But alas, my roommate Kelsi convinced me to join a group from our ward on a three hour hike up Squaw Peak. 

Maybe convince isn’t the right word. She really just asked me what I was going to do instead --I thought of my book, and then I immediately felt like a nerdy goob, and being a goob was not a summer goal. So I quickly changed clothes before my brain could make a list of reasons why this was a terrible terrible idea.

{Squaw Peak}

Now I want to clarify, I didn’t hate this hike. This hike hated me.

On the way up, I was stumbling about, gasping for air, pleading for the end of the hike or the end of my life.

Even in my desperate and frankly pathetic state, I couldn’t help but appreciate what surrounding me. To put it simply, the climb was beautiful.

I say without pride, that I barely made it to the top. In fact, I don’t have any pride when it comes to my health. Long gone are the first two years of college where I spent every day in the gym trying desperately to keep up with my atrocious eating habits. I’m out of shape, and my pride is nowhere to be found.

But, I made it to the terrifyingly high tip of the mountain alive--no thanks to me. Instead, a friend stayed behind and helped me: bless him, I will name my first born after him. Unless having children is as painful as that hike was: then there will be no first born.

I have to say that going down was glorious. I think I was so giddy that I didn’t have to go up anymore, that I was able to frolic about with ease. It was just nice to be able to enjoy my surroundings without having to suppress an incessant desire to throw up. 

Now I am crossing my goal to climb something awesome off the list and I am retiring my worn out hiking shoes. I figure if I limit my hiking to places I can climb in flip flops it will rule out extremes of all sorts.

On Top of the World

I am free.  And this is my anthem.

Blogging has been on a cease fire the last month. Why? Let’s just say Hell doesn’t have the best internet service.

But now it is summer.

I have emerged from the fiery depths. 

And I have made a list of things that must get done. 

1. Visit as many different temples in three months as possible.
2. Read 10 books that will change my life.
3. Read 10 average books that I won’t remember the plot to in 5 years.  
4. Get tan. Why? Because being an albino is getting depressing.
5. Climb something awesome.
6. Hit up Sonic happy hour every Saturday.
7. Go to the lake…often
8. Get my hair to grow an inch. I’ve been trying to for the past two years and in the process I’ve lost three. (How is that even possible?)
9. Don’t do anything stupid…do something stupid.  
10. Oh, and figure out my life. No big deal right...

By no means is this list complete, but it's a nice place to start. 

Happy summer everyone!

The Dating Games

In honor of the premier of Hunger Games I am posting this hilarious video our ward FHE made for our Oscar night. ENJOY!

Where's Waldo, BYU Style

One of my greatest loves in life is games; board games, card games, trivia games, ect. The reason why I love them so is, unlike the fam, I did not inherit the sporty gene, but I did inherit the desire to win at all costs and these games reward ruthlessness.

My longest going game is the BYU 'where's Waldo' hunt. Basically Kelly Kins and I have picked out random people, that we both know, and have assigned them points that we get if we see them on campus. The list goes as follows...

People from Saint Johns...............................................5 points
People from EAC…….....................................................5 points
Teachers we've had.......................................................5 points

It has even taken a more specific turn...

Guy with a tiny head.....................................................5 points
Person in wheelchair.....................................................5 points
Girl crying....................................................................5 points
People we're unsuccessfully trying to avoid....................5 points
Guy with old-fashion popcorn machine.........................5 points
Thatch Nastie...............................................................5 points
Boy with boombox........................................................5 points
Guy dressed as Pokemon……………………….........…………..5 points
Funky Fingers from ASl................................................5 points Jimmer........................................................................20 points

The list goes on and on and we've even started adding people who will give us negative points...

Spouses of people we know, but we've never talked to...-2 points
Couple making out at the computer next to you.........-324 points
{the exact amount of days it takes to recover from said experience}

Now I've often wondered if this game is mean spirited; after all, should we really be pointing out the unfortunate head size of some guy? But then I think of all the joy it brings Kel and me and I know that nothing bad can come from joy....right? {Same reasoning I apply to my overindulgence of nutella}

Fort, Sweet Fort

When I was younger I made forts. Not tree forts or bush forts – I left those up to my brothers whose trusty hands were more agile at wielding a hammer and saw– no, I built blanket forts. I built them in various places: my bedroom, around the pool table, in my 6th grade class….

These forts had three purposes: a nifty reading space, a nonjudgmental eating area, and awesomeness. Well two weekends ago my roommates and I were in the mood for reading, eating, and awesomeness. Our inspiration for the architecture was a mix between the inside of a genie’s lamp and an ancient concubine’s living space.

So how did this idea come to fruition, well I’ll tell you. Friday found us without plans and with an unquenchable desire to lounge. For each of us could not remember the last time we were left to read, to relax, and to be.

And so the fort came into existence. A place where problems were checked at the silky fold and we entered into a relaxing reality overflowing with desserts and literature…ok we also had what could be defined as the dumbest action movie courtesy of one Taylor Lautner.

What was a fun adventure for a lonely Friday night turned into a four day state of being. We sacrificed parties, homework, and hygiene, but by golly we were happy. We were happy.

But this way of life could not exist in the real world. Reality pushed against the blankets whispering “you’re going to fail your classes” “you should really be on a date” and “you should take that movie back before you get charged for late fees…” We ignored the whispers for as long as possible and then we gave in and the fort came down. Here are some photo's before the demolition.

The entrance to The Fort and yes, that is a fish tank and yes, I still haven't gotten over my fear of fish...

The ceiling: as you can see we have utilized our chandelier and it has proven a useful tool in keeping the walls up.

I wish there was a picture of the fort before we slept in it...it got o so messy after the first night.

Now whenever we think back on the fort we let out a blissful sigh and say in hushed reverent tones“oh fort, sweet fort.” Our fort was more than a child’s game, it was a way of life. We slept and read and lived and laughed within those cotton walls and we will forever be grateful for the time spent within them. Long live our fort.

Just a little something I found...

Date a Girl Who Reads
by Rosemarie Urquico
{with minor changes by Lora Patterson}

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was eight.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her cup of caramel apple spice, the caramel is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup.

Let her know what you really think of The Picture of Dorian Grey. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in prose. Give her Shakespeare, Hugo, Austen, Wilde, Lewis. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching Harry Potter to her chest and weeping, make her chocolate milk. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or in Italy on a Gondola ride. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to Roald Dahl and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Emerson under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Although this is far from a ploy to get me married, you do have to admit it presents my attributes impeccably.... kidding of course. But it should be incentive for all to pick up a book and get to it!

Happy Thursday!

Face transplants can't be that expensive...right?

Do you remember that time that one guy thought I was African American {click here}...well things have taken a turn for the specific. Instead of being just any African American girl, I apparently resemble Tyra Banks. This is an offense of the highest order. I loath Tyra Banks.

Entirely

Here are seeds from which my disdain for her has sprouted.

1. I personally think she is the most obnoxious person on TV, and that's saying a lot when you have people like Spencer and Heidi out there. While watching ANTM, I actually have to fast forward all scenes involving just to make it bearable. This inevitable reduced the show from 42 minutes to 13.

2. Her talk show...

3. Her affinity for jumpsuits ultimately leading to more people thinking it's ok to don them.

As you can see this doppelganger predicament is devastating, especially since the boy who thinks I look like her has taken it upon himself to show random people her picture then mine just to prove how uncanny this whole situation is. This fact has led me to investigate for myself and after a maddening 2 minute search to see where this resemblance may lie, I found these and it all made sense. We're basically twiners....

It's eerie right!? {I'm the one on the bottom...}

There are no words to describe my devastation so I borrow those of my favorite author of October, "at the time of writing this sad relation, I am throned in a broken chair, within an inch of a thundercloud." That basically says it all....

To all those who have kept this truth from me, the sham is up. I now know my greatest fear has come true and I bid you all adieu.