Thanks to my best friend Bree I have gotten into the habit of giving guys nicknames. It's easier for a lot of reasons. One being maybe I don't want people knowing who I'm talking about. Maybe I know 8 different spencers and don't want to have to explain each time I talk about one, which one I'm talking about. Maybe I don't like the guy and he doesn't deserve me using his name. It's just easier.
So today in my busy-ness I decided to compile a list of the names that I could remember. Here ya go:
Fosters
Red
Kayak
Blue Shirt
Hasslehoff
Big A
The Linguist
The Professor
The Doctor
The Father
The Drool Master
The Comedian
Chester the Molester
O'donnell
Shots
The Creeper
The Gym Guy
The Child
The Snowshoeing guy
Muscle Man
The Captain
The Agressor
Mr Persistan
Kingpin
The Musician
Goober 9000
The Stalker
The Friend
I know there are more, those last three just came to me as I was writing. Nicknames are a great invention, makes talking about dudes so much easier.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Loved This
As much as I hate to admit it... I looked at pinterest today. I have not/ will not (maybe) join, but I found this poem on there that I LOVED, so I'll share it.
The Knots Prayer:
Dear God,
Please untie the knots that are in my mind, my heart and my life.
Remove the have nots, the can nots and the do nots that I have in my mind.
Erase the will nots, may nots, might nots that may find a home in my heart.
Release me from the could nots, would nots and should nots that obstruct my life.
And most of all, Dear God, I ask you to remove from my mind, my heart and my life all of the 'am nots' that I have allowed to hold me back, especially the thought that I am not good enough.
Amen
Short and sweet.
The Knots Prayer:
Dear God,
Please untie the knots that are in my mind, my heart and my life.
Remove the have nots, the can nots and the do nots that I have in my mind.
Erase the will nots, may nots, might nots that may find a home in my heart.
Release me from the could nots, would nots and should nots that obstruct my life.
And most of all, Dear God, I ask you to remove from my mind, my heart and my life all of the 'am nots' that I have allowed to hold me back, especially the thought that I am not good enough.
Amen
Short and sweet.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Song Writing Journal
I saw a post on my friends blog today and she was talking about her husband's song that he had just written. How he keeps notebooks all over the place that he jots lines in and what not.
Songwriting is such a personal thing, that's why I talk about it being so therapeutic. I write songs like I'm writing in my journal. A lot of my songs are sad because that is the emotion that I feel can consume you so much, and for me writing my feelings out helps me to let go of them.
Anyway... the thing that made me of this post is in my friend's blog, (hueandhum.com) she took a picture of a part of one of her husband's songs and it just made me think about what my songwriting notebook looks like.
When I write a song, it starts off by me writing down a bunch of different lines that the current situation makes me think of. I write down my feelings in a bunch of different ways to see what lines would best fit the melody we choose. As we start writing the lines they get condensed and snipped and crossed out and by the end of it I have a few pages of paper that just look a mess. I LOVE those pages of paper in my book. I love that notebook I love going back and seeing how we came to the final product, I like going back and seeing all the things I felt before we wrote the song.
About a year ago Jaycie and I were doing an open mic night. I left my notebook on the chair next to me to save a seat. My friend came and grabbed it and sat next to me and started looking through my notebook. My chest immediately tightened and I got really self-conscious. I realized him looking through that notebook was like him reaching the deepest parts of my soul. The things I have written in that book are some of the most personal feelings I have. I finally reached over and took it from him, I couldn't handle it anymore.
I love sharing my songs with people. I love the idea that people can relate. I hope that people can feel the emotion it took to write the song, because they are all based off something real.
Well I hope the seriousness/boringness of this blog doesn't turn anyone away. Sometimes I'm serious ok?
Adieu
Songwriting is such a personal thing, that's why I talk about it being so therapeutic. I write songs like I'm writing in my journal. A lot of my songs are sad because that is the emotion that I feel can consume you so much, and for me writing my feelings out helps me to let go of them.
Anyway... the thing that made me of this post is in my friend's blog, (hueandhum.com) she took a picture of a part of one of her husband's songs and it just made me think about what my songwriting notebook looks like.
When I write a song, it starts off by me writing down a bunch of different lines that the current situation makes me think of. I write down my feelings in a bunch of different ways to see what lines would best fit the melody we choose. As we start writing the lines they get condensed and snipped and crossed out and by the end of it I have a few pages of paper that just look a mess. I LOVE those pages of paper in my book. I love that notebook I love going back and seeing how we came to the final product, I like going back and seeing all the things I felt before we wrote the song.
About a year ago Jaycie and I were doing an open mic night. I left my notebook on the chair next to me to save a seat. My friend came and grabbed it and sat next to me and started looking through my notebook. My chest immediately tightened and I got really self-conscious. I realized him looking through that notebook was like him reaching the deepest parts of my soul. The things I have written in that book are some of the most personal feelings I have. I finally reached over and took it from him, I couldn't handle it anymore.
I love sharing my songs with people. I love the idea that people can relate. I hope that people can feel the emotion it took to write the song, because they are all based off something real.
Well I hope the seriousness/boringness of this blog doesn't turn anyone away. Sometimes I'm serious ok?
Adieu
Monday, November 7, 2011
Memoirs of a Youngest Child
When I was in 3rd grade Jennie and I would be off-track at the same time. Both of our parents worked as did our cousin Michelle's parents. So when we would be out of school for those weeks we would either go to Michelle's house for the day, or she would come to ours.
Jennie and Michelle were both in 5th grade and I, as previously mentioned, was in 3rd, which meant if I wanted to play with them, I had to do what they said.
Nearly every day we would make lunch and then we would watch The Unsinkable Molly Brown "Belly up... Belly up to the bar boys, better loosen your belt. Only drink when you're all alone or with somebody else." I don't know how we never got sick of that movie, but somehow we didn't.
Every day lunch was a grand event. We would use cookie sheets as special trays. We would pretend that we were at this fancy restaurant which we named "Croutons" and for some reason the food and the service at this make-believe restaurant was always horrible, at least that is how we'd act it out, yet that was always "where we'd eat".
Jennie and Michelle would go all out preparing this meal that we would all eat together. I always wanted to help, but they wouldn't let me. So I just had to wait for them to get it all ready and then we'd all eat together.
Once the meal was over and the kitchen was destroyed and it was time to clean up Jennie and Michelle would say, "k Julia, you have to clean up since you didn't help cook."
Memoirs of a youngest child.
Jennie and Michelle were both in 5th grade and I, as previously mentioned, was in 3rd, which meant if I wanted to play with them, I had to do what they said.
Nearly every day we would make lunch and then we would watch The Unsinkable Molly Brown "Belly up... Belly up to the bar boys, better loosen your belt. Only drink when you're all alone or with somebody else." I don't know how we never got sick of that movie, but somehow we didn't.
Every day lunch was a grand event. We would use cookie sheets as special trays. We would pretend that we were at this fancy restaurant which we named "Croutons" and for some reason the food and the service at this make-believe restaurant was always horrible, at least that is how we'd act it out, yet that was always "where we'd eat".
Jennie and Michelle would go all out preparing this meal that we would all eat together. I always wanted to help, but they wouldn't let me. So I just had to wait for them to get it all ready and then we'd all eat together.
Once the meal was over and the kitchen was destroyed and it was time to clean up Jennie and Michelle would say, "k Julia, you have to clean up since you didn't help cook."
Memoirs of a youngest child.
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Reason I Don't Ski.
When I was in my youth my Aunt Candy and her family used to come every year for spring break and we would all go skiing. It was pretty much the only time I'd go so I never got very good at it.
Roughly 11 years ago it was that time again, and we decided to go to Snowbird. Typically we would go to Alta, but we had some snowboarders in our midst so we decided to go somewhere where they could join us. I was familiar with Alta... I knew the runs I liked and I knew what I could handle. Snowbird I didn't know.
My cousin Michelle is an avid snowboarder and she would go to snowbird all the time, so I stuck with her and she would tell me what runs she thought I could handle.
In the early afternoon, the sun was blazing there was a crisp chill in the air I was getting into my skiing groove. Michelle wanted to do this slightly more difficult run and she wanted me to go with her (along with everyone else) I was nervous because I had never done it, so I asked her how the hills were... if they were really steep. She assured me they weren't bad.
So there I am skiing along... bits of snowy mist attaching to my sunwarmed face. It was the perfect day.
Then I turn a corner and see... a drop off... you could hardly call it a hill for how long and steep it was. Fear filled me to my very core. Usually there are "options" another way to go to miss the danger of that hill. I looked around but much to my chagrin saw nothing. Michelle was already at the hill. I says to her I says, "Uh Michelle, I thought you said there weren't any steep hills." To which she replied, "Well I knew you wouldn't come otherwise." Oh... cool, yeah that's fair... thanks for that.
I was seriously terrified. I just looked down this hill thinking how I could possibly do this and come away unscathed. It looked bleak.
So as kind of a joke I was like, "Well I'll just sit on my butt and slide down..." So I sit down, but not on the snow... on my skis, fully intending on not actually sliding down on my butt, but then I started to slide. Because of how I was positioned I couldn't stand back up and stop myself. I started picking up speed rather rapidly, and panic set in. I had absolutely no control over my speed, my direction, and stopping was not an option at this point.
I continued to pick up speed and I knew if I didn't figure out a way to stop myself this could end very badly so I put my hand down on the right side to slow me down. Apparently my speed was too much for this and all it did was shoot my body from the sitting position to the rolling-down-the-hill-as-a-human-snowball position easily comparable to what we've all seen numerous times in cartoons.
So there I am tumbling down the hill with one thing on my mind "Please don't make me break Michelle's sunglasses." Apparently you don't think too clearly when you are near death.
I tumble and flip and flail for what seemed like forever, then finally I come to a stop. About an inch of snow on my face. Nary a ski, pole, beanie nor glove remaining near my body... it was a "garage sale" the likes of which no one had ever seen before, I'm sure. Again first thought, "the sunglasses are still in tact... thank heaven" I look up the hill to see where all of my ski-belongings ended up. When my glance made it to the top of the hill all I see is dear family, laughing to the point of no control. Some keeled over, some laying down, some pointing.
I haven't been skiing since.
Roughly 11 years ago it was that time again, and we decided to go to Snowbird. Typically we would go to Alta, but we had some snowboarders in our midst so we decided to go somewhere where they could join us. I was familiar with Alta... I knew the runs I liked and I knew what I could handle. Snowbird I didn't know.
My cousin Michelle is an avid snowboarder and she would go to snowbird all the time, so I stuck with her and she would tell me what runs she thought I could handle.
In the early afternoon, the sun was blazing there was a crisp chill in the air I was getting into my skiing groove. Michelle wanted to do this slightly more difficult run and she wanted me to go with her (along with everyone else) I was nervous because I had never done it, so I asked her how the hills were... if they were really steep. She assured me they weren't bad.
So there I am skiing along... bits of snowy mist attaching to my sunwarmed face. It was the perfect day.
Then I turn a corner and see... a drop off... you could hardly call it a hill for how long and steep it was. Fear filled me to my very core. Usually there are "options" another way to go to miss the danger of that hill. I looked around but much to my chagrin saw nothing. Michelle was already at the hill. I says to her I says, "Uh Michelle, I thought you said there weren't any steep hills." To which she replied, "Well I knew you wouldn't come otherwise." Oh... cool, yeah that's fair... thanks for that.
I was seriously terrified. I just looked down this hill thinking how I could possibly do this and come away unscathed. It looked bleak.
So as kind of a joke I was like, "Well I'll just sit on my butt and slide down..." So I sit down, but not on the snow... on my skis, fully intending on not actually sliding down on my butt, but then I started to slide. Because of how I was positioned I couldn't stand back up and stop myself. I started picking up speed rather rapidly, and panic set in. I had absolutely no control over my speed, my direction, and stopping was not an option at this point.
I continued to pick up speed and I knew if I didn't figure out a way to stop myself this could end very badly so I put my hand down on the right side to slow me down. Apparently my speed was too much for this and all it did was shoot my body from the sitting position to the rolling-down-the-hill-as-a-human-snowball position easily comparable to what we've all seen numerous times in cartoons.
So there I am tumbling down the hill with one thing on my mind "Please don't make me break Michelle's sunglasses." Apparently you don't think too clearly when you are near death.
I tumble and flip and flail for what seemed like forever, then finally I come to a stop. About an inch of snow on my face. Nary a ski, pole, beanie nor glove remaining near my body... it was a "garage sale" the likes of which no one had ever seen before, I'm sure. Again first thought, "the sunglasses are still in tact... thank heaven" I look up the hill to see where all of my ski-belongings ended up. When my glance made it to the top of the hill all I see is dear family, laughing to the point of no control. Some keeled over, some laying down, some pointing.
I haven't been skiing since.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Flashback Friday "Where's my arm?"
OK some of you may have heard this story before, but it's a classic so you're gonna have to deal with it. (Or just stop reading because I really have no control over that, but don't stop reading k?)
So a buncha years ago my parents, sister and I were all driving to Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. It was a LONG drive. We took the van and Jennie and I each had a bench to ourselves. We would pretty much eat, fall asleep until we ate again, and then sleep some more (Gross, no wonder I was a rolly poly).
At one point in the drive I was in the back seat and Jennie was in the middle seat. She had fallen asleep on her back with her right arm up behind her head (I hope you can get the imagery because that's essential) With her arm that way (you may need to do this yourself so you can see what she would have seen) she couldn't see it.
Anyway so there I am, watching her sleep like a creeper (I really don't know why I was watching her, but I was for some reason) and she starts to stir. She opens her eyes and I see her looking around for a second... then tired eyes turn to panic. She looks at me with fear (and a little bit of anger) and says, "Julia! WHERE IS MY ARM???" In her barely awake state of delirium she literally thought it was gone, and not only that, that I had done something with it.
I grabbed her arm from behind her head and lifted it in front of her face and let go... it was COMPLETELY DEAD and it just plopped down on top of her. To this day I don't think she and I have ever laughed that hard. Her arm had completely fallen asleep behind her head and when she woke up she couldn't feel it or see it, and actually thought it was gone.
This is one of my favorites stories. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I do, because if you didn't you need to work on your sense of humor, cuz it's funny crap!
So a buncha years ago my parents, sister and I were all driving to Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. It was a LONG drive. We took the van and Jennie and I each had a bench to ourselves. We would pretty much eat, fall asleep until we ate again, and then sleep some more (Gross, no wonder I was a rolly poly).
At one point in the drive I was in the back seat and Jennie was in the middle seat. She had fallen asleep on her back with her right arm up behind her head (I hope you can get the imagery because that's essential) With her arm that way (you may need to do this yourself so you can see what she would have seen) she couldn't see it.
Anyway so there I am, watching her sleep like a creeper (I really don't know why I was watching her, but I was for some reason) and she starts to stir. She opens her eyes and I see her looking around for a second... then tired eyes turn to panic. She looks at me with fear (and a little bit of anger) and says, "Julia! WHERE IS MY ARM???" In her barely awake state of delirium she literally thought it was gone, and not only that, that I had done something with it.
I grabbed her arm from behind her head and lifted it in front of her face and let go... it was COMPLETELY DEAD and it just plopped down on top of her. To this day I don't think she and I have ever laughed that hard. Her arm had completely fallen asleep behind her head and when she woke up she couldn't feel it or see it, and actually thought it was gone.
This is one of my favorites stories. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I do, because if you didn't you need to work on your sense of humor, cuz it's funny crap!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Older Brothers
Who needs older brothers when you have MY older brothers for a father or an uncle?
I went to St George for Labor Day weekend this year. When I go there I stay with my brother Nolan his wife Treo and their two cute kids. Their house fits their family, but when I visit I sleep in the living room, which is fine I could sleep anywhere and not be bothered (even though this is an early to rise family, and I'm... not so much an early to rise...r).
During my last visit, my first night there Nolan grabbed a sleeping pad and was going to put the sheets on it, but Jaylee, his oldest daughter (3) was playing on the pad and didn't want to get off. So Nolan took the fitted sheet and put it over her and the sleeping pad. We sat back, smiled and watched the struggle as she tossed and turned under the sheet to try to free herself. She was having fun, but I turned to Nolan and said, "You see? These are the things she's going to remember when she's older and tells people why she's claustrophobic." and we laughed as Nolan said, "Seriously, I'd be FREAKING OUT if that were me."
I had realized this before, but I blame my claustrophobia, as well as my sister's on our brothers doing crap like that to us, and now they pass that on to their children. Being an "older brother" doesn't stop once the title changes to father. Maybe it's simply being a dude.
My next example comes from reading my sister's blog. She posted pictures from when my brother Justin went to visit and play with the kids. He had taken this headband or some sort of stretchy something. Took Leila's arms behind her back and put the stretchy something around them, so she couldn't bring them forward. Then sat back and laughed as she tried to free herself. She's ONE! Then Jace, her older brother, saw this and wanted to have his arms trapped. So Justin did the same thing to him. Jace is 6 now, and it didn't take long before he realized he was in fact trapped and just started crying to get free. Just as, I'm sure, his mother would have reacted if she realized her arms were trapped.
Seeing these things made me think back on all the times my brothers have done these things to me. Watching Justin sit over Jennie, with one hand hold both of her hands above her head, and with the other tickle her. This got so bad that if Justin would just approach her even pretending to do it, she would immediately burst into tears.
I also think of the times when they would take the bar from the bench press, they would put the BIGGEST weights on it, and as many as they could, then they would lay us down and put the bar over our necks. It was high enough that it wouldn't touch our necks, but low enough that we couldn't slide under it, and heavy enough that we couldn't lift it, and then they would turn the lights off and leave the room.
You may have laughed at that. It's funny, sure. BUT PEOPLE big brothers doing stuff like this causes SERIOUS issues later on. Claustrophobia is a real, terrifying thing. My aunt Robin has it thanks to her brothers (my dad included) I have it thanks to my brothers. My nieces and nephews will have it, even if they don't have older brothers because they have dads and uncles.
Boys are mean!
I went to St George for Labor Day weekend this year. When I go there I stay with my brother Nolan his wife Treo and their two cute kids. Their house fits their family, but when I visit I sleep in the living room, which is fine I could sleep anywhere and not be bothered (even though this is an early to rise family, and I'm... not so much an early to rise...r).
During my last visit, my first night there Nolan grabbed a sleeping pad and was going to put the sheets on it, but Jaylee, his oldest daughter (3) was playing on the pad and didn't want to get off. So Nolan took the fitted sheet and put it over her and the sleeping pad. We sat back, smiled and watched the struggle as she tossed and turned under the sheet to try to free herself. She was having fun, but I turned to Nolan and said, "You see? These are the things she's going to remember when she's older and tells people why she's claustrophobic." and we laughed as Nolan said, "Seriously, I'd be FREAKING OUT if that were me."
I had realized this before, but I blame my claustrophobia, as well as my sister's on our brothers doing crap like that to us, and now they pass that on to their children. Being an "older brother" doesn't stop once the title changes to father. Maybe it's simply being a dude.
My next example comes from reading my sister's blog. She posted pictures from when my brother Justin went to visit and play with the kids. He had taken this headband or some sort of stretchy something. Took Leila's arms behind her back and put the stretchy something around them, so she couldn't bring them forward. Then sat back and laughed as she tried to free herself. She's ONE! Then Jace, her older brother, saw this and wanted to have his arms trapped. So Justin did the same thing to him. Jace is 6 now, and it didn't take long before he realized he was in fact trapped and just started crying to get free. Just as, I'm sure, his mother would have reacted if she realized her arms were trapped.
Seeing these things made me think back on all the times my brothers have done these things to me. Watching Justin sit over Jennie, with one hand hold both of her hands above her head, and with the other tickle her. This got so bad that if Justin would just approach her even pretending to do it, she would immediately burst into tears.
I also think of the times when they would take the bar from the bench press, they would put the BIGGEST weights on it, and as many as they could, then they would lay us down and put the bar over our necks. It was high enough that it wouldn't touch our necks, but low enough that we couldn't slide under it, and heavy enough that we couldn't lift it, and then they would turn the lights off and leave the room.
You may have laughed at that. It's funny, sure. BUT PEOPLE big brothers doing stuff like this causes SERIOUS issues later on. Claustrophobia is a real, terrifying thing. My aunt Robin has it thanks to her brothers (my dad included) I have it thanks to my brothers. My nieces and nephews will have it, even if they don't have older brothers because they have dads and uncles.
Boys are mean!
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