Court Is In Session

Facebook Funnies

2011-05-19T18:05:00.001-07:00

So, they killed Osama Bin Laden a couple of weeks ago. But instead of postulating at the possible political ramifications of this event, or discussing whether or not it was the right thing to do (it was), I am going to share some of my favorite Facebook status updates from that evening.

Here you go....….

- Chuck Norris was let loose in Pakistan today.

- I had a sneaky feeling he was hiding in Abbottabad…..

- I wish a navy seal would take out whoever is making gas prices go up.

- We might destroy two countries in the process, but if you mess with America, we will find you.

- Somebody killed the bastard!

- I can't help but think that somehow Jack Bauer was involved.

- NBC now concludes its coverage of Obama announcing Bin Laden's death, and joins its previously scheduled programming of “That Trump Guy who Questioned Obama's Birth Certificate” in progress.

- Bin Laden's death has abruptly curtailed all discussion and coverage of an overly-hyped Royal Wedding. What an unintended, yet serendipitous consequence. A twofer!

I have some pretty funny friends.

That is all.

We Have a Situation

2011-04-11T22:58:00.001-07:00

I have a confession to make.

Somehow (I'm still not sure exactly how), I have become a fan of Jersey Shore.

I don't know how this happened!! I have always been one of the biggest critics of that show, believing that only an imbecile would enjoy watching those Italian hooligans. In fact, it was always my belief that Jersey Shore would be the reason given when God explained why he wiped out the human race.

But then I was in a group situation, where I was basically forced to watch an episode from this season. And it was funny.

So I watched another episode. That was even funnier.

And before I knew it, I was setting my DVR to record MTV every Thursday night at 10:00, and I couldn't WAIT to see what those dumb guidos and guidettes were up to next!!

My mother would surely shake her head in disappointment…..

I realize that my IQ probably drops a few points every time I watch an episode. In fact, I can feel myself getting dumber by the minute. But it's like a car wreck – AND I CAN'T LOOK AWAY!!!!

I did gain some new vocabulary words/phrases from the show, though: Grenade, GTL, Juicehead Gorilla, T-shirt Time, Smush, Lean Cuisine...... See, I got a little smarter!! Ish. Okay, no. Not really.

But we all need guilty pleasures, right?

Somebody emailed me this picture the other day:

Could not be truer.

Ghetto Wax

2011-04-05T21:11:00.001-07:00

So, a month or so ago, a few of my friends and I were looking for something fun to do on a Saturday night. And somehow or another…….we ended up in Tinsel Town at The Hollywood Wax Museum.

Did you know that there are TWO Wax Museums in Hollywood? Yeah, me neither. Literally blocks away from one another. Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum (which I had always assumed was the only one) is probably the most renowned. Very shi shi foo foo, Hollywood sheik. These wax figures are the ones you always hear about on entertainment television shows. When one of those bad boys is commissioned, Madame Tussaud’s sends a representative out to meet with the celebrity whom the wax figurine is to be modeled after. Photographs are taken from every possible angle, and every body part (well almost every) is measured in exact detail. Some of the likenesses are truly amazing – making for quite an experience when you visit.

And theeeeeennn there's the Hollywood Wax Museum – the bastard red-headed stepchild of wax museums. Where half of the figurines don't even come close to resembling the celebrities they are supposed to represent. And whose (supposedly) famous faces look like they have been awkwardly stuck on random department store mannequins. It's quite sad, really.

BUT, the upside to the el-cheapo statuettes is that the museum owners could care less about your interacting with them. So you can pose with and take pictures with the "celebrities," basically inserting yourself into the the display. Which makes for quite an entertaining evening.......

Here are some of the paparazzi photographs.....

This first one is my personal favorite. It personifies Rachel and her cheekiness so perfectly…..

Rachel says that I am doing the “West Side” meets “Put a Ring on it” hand sign in this next pic. I’m such a dork sometimes.

It was kinda fun rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. Even if they were ghetto, waxy shoulders.

Phase 2

2011-03-05T15:56:00.001-08:00

(Disclaimer: I am going to talk about “womanly” issues in this post. Reader beware.)

I recently started developing ovarian cysts. It's no big deal, really – they are actually pretty common in the general (female) public. And in my case, they also run in the family. Ovarian cysts don't affect child-bearing capabilities or anything major like that. More than anything, they are just a nuisance to deal with if one of them decides to burst because they can get pretty uncomfortable.

So, after a few months of having this intermittent discomfort (and after one particularly painful episode at work where I threw up and nearly passed out), I decided that I should probably go see my OB/GYN just to make sure that my self-diagnosis was correct.

At the appointment, I re-told my story. The doctor listened intently, nodding along with me as I listed off all my factoids. When I finished talking, she said that she agreed with the cyst diagnosis. And then she asked "Now, how old are you?"

My favorite question.

When I told her that I was 32, she replied "Ah, that explains a lot."

Eh?

She went on to explain that, as women get into their thirties, all of the symptoms that usually accompany periods begin to intensify. These symptoms include cramping, bloating, bleeding, PMS, acne – and occasionally, the development of ovarian cysts. Since I am lucky enough to have escaped experiencing most of these symptoms even in my teens and twenties, this was not exactly what I wanted to hear.

I mean, as if facial wrinkles and aching bones weren't already enough to deal with in my increasing age, now I also get to re-live my adolescence – only WORSE?

For the love....whose lame idea was THAT?!

Well, right now I am PMS-ing like you wouldn't believe. A couple days ago, I accidentally got some bleach on one of my dresses, and I wanted to murder someone. At a goodbye party later that night, I felt all awkward and so not cool; I nearly bolted out the door 10 minutes after I got there so I could go home and bawl my eyes out to some cheesy music. And yesterday at work, a needle went missing during one of my surgical cases, and I nearly had a conniption fit in the search to find it.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR FOR ME!!!!!

I have a feeling that I am not going to enjoy this new phase of life.

Winter Magic

2011-01-29T16:08:00.001-08:00

(Again, I know that it is well past Holiday time. And that this blog post title is somewhat oxymoronic considering that it is 80 degrees outside right now. But still, I'm playing catch-up.)

I absolutely love the winter Holiday season, particularly Christmastime. I don't know what it is about it, but even as I have gotten older, and perhaps even a little more jaded in life, Christmas has just never seemed to lose its magic. It carries with it a vibe, an aura. A memory. Christmas means the smell of smoke-burning fireplaces on the cold night air and 24-hour-a-day Christmas music on the radio. It means pumpkin pie for breakfast. And thousands of twinkling lights on the neighborhood houses (you'll notice that I specifically said neighborhood houses, as my dad has refused to put lights up on our house for years now. Bah!) And of course, what Christmas would be complete without spending hours on end shopping?

Growing up, my family had several Christmas traditions. However, as the kids have gotten older, and the family members at home for the holidays have become fewer, many of these traditions have fallen by the wayside. Mostly due to lack of desire to expend energy. However, the one tradition that has stood the test of time is Christmas Eve dinner. I know what you're saying – "Courtney, everybody eats Christmas dinner. And a lot of people eat it on Christmas Eve like you. What makes your family tradition so different?"

Well, I'll tell you. It's all the little eccentricities that make our Christmas dinner so quintessentially Sudweeks.

First of all, my Mother hates turkey. So for Christmas dinner, we used to cook a turkey, a honeybaked ham, and then a small chicken for my Mom. But then everybody started eating her chicken, and leaving the turkey untouched. And my Mom would get totally annoyed because everyone was stealing her poultry. So the turkey part of the dinner was eventually discontinued, and the size of the chicken was upgraded. A la, turkey-less Christmas dinner.

Second of all, our side dishes are not exactly typical. They are traditional......but with a twist. Instead of yams with marshmallows on top, we have a concoction of yams and apples marinated in a sweet sauce. Instead of mashed potatoes, we have my Dad's famous cheesy scalloped potatoes. And who needs cranberry sauce when you have strawberry Jell-o (with real strawberry pieces and bananas in it)!

[Side note: This past Thanksgiving, my parents somehow forgot to buy the strawberry Jell-o. But instead of running out to the store, they decided to use whatever they had on hand. Which was watermelon and orange-flavored Jell-o (left over from when my dad could only eat non-red clear liquids prior to having a colonoscopy, I might add). Mixed together. With strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and bananas…..

……I'm not really sure what they were thinking, but as appetizing as that may look/sound, it ended up tasting more like a jiggly, chewy Jolly Rancher. Bonus points for creativity, though.]

Thirdly, every year, WITHOUT FAIL, we burn the crescent rolls. Every. Bloody. Year. And every year, we laugh at our repeated offense and swear we won't do it again. It really takes a certain talent, if you ask me. So sad, because crescent rolls are yummy.

Lastly, Christmas dinner may as well be called Christmas dessert in our house, because that's really the main event. Every year, even if there are just a few of us at home for the holidays, we make an abundance of pies and other delectable goodies to consume. This Christmas we made three pumpkin pies, one cherry pie, one lemon meringue pie, one apple crisp, and one lemon swirl cheesecake.

That's seven desserts. For four people. Gluttony what?

After dinner, we decided to go check out the Christmas lights at a couple different San Diego spots. The first place we went was Seaport Village, which is located on San Diego Harbor. But as it was Christmas Eve, and most of the little shops with lights had closed early, there wasn't too much to see. BUT, several of the historical ships in the harbor were decorated with lights.

At this point, we decided to head to Balboa Park, another historical San Diego location with lots of beautiful architecture, museums, gardens, and theaters. I love this place. It's one of the few places from my childhood that feels unchanged and untouched, and I could spend hours just meandering through it. And at Christmastime, they usually go Christmas light crazy.

Balboa Park is actually not very far from Seaport Village – a fact that I did not realize, having not lived in that part of San Diego since I was ten. This fact was quickly pointed out to me by my mother, however, who scoffed when I asked her if I should get out the GPS. She reminded me that both she and my father had worked in that area early on in their marriage, and knew it like the back of their hands.

Okayeeee.......... Fine.

We begin driving, and my mom started playing front-seat navigator to my dad. Which worked for a little while. Until we started driving through tent cities of homeless people and being directed the wrong way down one-way streets. Apparently my mother had forgotten more than she thought since moving to North County.

Up in the front seats, my parents argued and debated. "No, we just need to find 5th street. That'll take us straight there! That way!! No – turn here!!" Blythe and I just sat there in the back seat, giggling our heads off as quietly as we could at my parents....who were so lost, but just couldn't admit it. I tell you, I felt like I was watching an episode of The Muppet Show, you know, with the two old men who are constantly bickering and mocking each other. Yeah, that was my parents trying to get themselves to Balboa Park at 10:00 at night on Christmas Eve 2010. So funny.

Finally, after about 15 minutes of this comedy act, Blythe whipped out her phone and GPS'd our destination. We got there in 3 minutes.

Haha.

Anyway, once we got there, we walked around for a bit, looking at the lights, etc. But, I would have to say that the pinnacle of the evening was sitting on Santa's lap. That's right – the big guy himself.

Blythe and I are 30 and 32, respectively. Why do you ask? ;o)

All in all, the 2010 holidays were quiet and relaxing, which was probably what we all needed anyway, since we kept catching and re-infecting each other with the flu for the whole two weeks.

That’s okay, though. Because you know how they say that the older you get, the faster time flies? Well, 2010 felt like a literal blur, and I still swear that we skipped May and September somewhere in there. So I'm sure that Christmas 2011 will be here before I know it…..with an all new set of adventures!

Halloweekend

2011-01-10T09:58:00.000-08:00

(Note: Yes, I know that it is January 2011. And yes, I know that this is a Halloween post. But c'mon people! The holidays are a busy time! And when have I ever been punctual when it comes to blogging, huh? Anyway, here goes...)

So, typically, I am NOT a fan of Halloween. I know, Bah Humbug and all. But I find the whole occasion to be quite stressful, mostly because I hate having to think up a decent costume to wear. My creative juices just don't revolve around fashion.

This year, however, I actually had a pretty decent Halloween weekend. Friday night (October 29th), there was a huge regional YSA party/dance that I went to with a bunch of friends. My roomie, Rachel, dressed up as Snooki, and I have to say that she pretty much nailed it. Except for the bright orange hands (she got a-ONE too many spray tans in pursuit of the cause). But hey, GTL as you see fit.

As for myself, I managed to put together a makeshift sexy kitty costume (which was repeatedly mistaken for a sexy mouse costume.....idiots).

Even though the party was EXTREMELY crowded and hot, and even though I felt like I was babysitting half the time because I was surrounded by hundreds of 18-year-old twits, I actually had a pretty good time.

I give my friend, Todd, the award for most creative costume. Can you guess what he is? Can you?

A bar of soap.

I know, right? Ew. But somehow coming from Todd, it's not as offensive.

Afterwards, we all went out to Denny's for some food.

And then on the way home, I got pulled over by some power-hungry cops who claimed that they were doing so because I had tinted front windows.

Seriously?! Tinted windows? Could they even tell if my windows were tinted at that time of night? And by the way, they are NOT.

Apparently that was the only excuse they could come up with to pull me over to see if I was drunk, which totally bugs, because I wasn't even speeding or driving recklessly or anything. And they didn't even ask me if I HAD been drinking; they asked me HOW MUCH I had had to drink that night. What the?!?!

So, here is when Snarky Courtney comes out - when supposed authority figures try to attack/accuse me without justification. I was probably a little sassier with the cop than I should have been......after all, I had done NOTHING wrong. Even though I told him that I had not been drinking that night, and that I would take a breathalizer test to prove it, he still made me follow his finger back and forth until he was satisfied that I was sober. At that point, he let me go with a "warning" about my supposedly illegal tinted windows, and that was it.

To his credit, it must have looked pretty suspicious to have a 31-year-old dressed as a cat, with smeared cat makeup, driving around with a blonde bar of soap at 3 o'clock in the morning. And I guess that I would rather have him being safe than sorry when it comes to drunk drivers. But still! I felt so violated!

The next night (Saturday, October 30th), a group of us decided to go up to the Haunted Hayride at Griffith Park.

I wasn't quite sure how I was going to feel about this activity, as I really HATE being scared. In fact, my automatic reflex when something jumps out at me is to swat at it. And I was pretty sure that the Haunted Hayride people weren't going to look kindly on my physically abusing their staff.

There were about 30 people per hayride, and we were being driven around a trail which went through the old Griffith Park Zoo. There were about 8 different scary displays - with the subject matter ranging from clowns to demons to axe murderers. They had it all. And some of these displays were inside the old animal cages that used to be part of the zoo - which was both cool and creepy.

Now, I was told that the actors were not allowed to touch the riders. Which was true. But, BOY did they do everything but. They would jump onto the side of the vehicle, banging it with metal objects as they did. They stuck their heads into the center of the group, reaching for us and gruesomely yelling out our names (Yes, they were smart.....they listened to conversations going on and picked up on passengers' names......and then used them to freak us out!).

I didn't think that it was possible to both scream in horror and laugh with glee at the same time, but I did throughout the entire adventure. When it ended, I wanted to go again - which says a lot for a chicken like me.

Here are some pics from the night:

(You can see that Rachel’s hand is still a lovely shade of dark orange….hehe.)

(Waiting in line. YES, there was a 45 minute line to take a ride on some hay. Where don’t you have to wait in LA anymore?!)

(In the metal pen they herd you into right before the ride. MOO!!)

(YAY!! We actually made it on!!)

(Some of the aftermath….)

By the time we got to Halloween day (Sunday, October 31st), we were so pooped from our late nights of fun and debauchery, that we just sat around in our pajamas, ate pizza and ice cream, and watched "Hocus Pocus."

Just my kind of Halloween. And yes, I know that makes me old and boring. But I just don't care anymore.

Garden of Sound

2010-10-19T18:11:00.001-07:00

It's no secret that there are A LOT of things to complain about if you live in LA. The concrete jungle, the crowds of inconsiderate and rude people. And who could forget its legendary amount of traffic - which seems to be in full force no matter what time of day (or night ) it is. However, despite the numerous things that there are to gripe about (and trust me, I am a GREAT griper), every now and then something will happen – and living in LA is suddenly kinda cool again. A couple of weeks ago, I had one of these occasions.

I was sitting at home, checking my facebook (I know, I'm super cool), when one of my co-workers posted something about scoring two tickets for a secret Soundgarden concert for that night. Now, I like Soundgarden.....but my roommate, Rachel, is OBSESSED with them. In fact, I believe that her number one goal in life is to bear Chris Cornell's child someday.

I texted her, asking if she knew about the concert. "WHAT!!!!," was her reply. "Secret concert?!!!! I MUST GO!!!!" Luckily, she works a block away from Amoeba Records, where they had the tickets. She literally dropped everything, ran out of her office, and high-tailed it down the road. She managed to get four wristbands for the concert, and the best thing about it was.......they were FREE!! Seriously, that DOESN'T happen.

The concert turned out to be a promo event for the release of both Soundgarden's new album and the new Guitar Hero game, held at the Paramount Studios Lot.

(Side note: A few years back, my old roomie, Jamie, and I randomly stumbled upon the release party for a different Guitar Hero game. This event featured Poison and was held on the roof of a Best Buy. How the Guitar Hero people manage to get such big names to perform at their releases is beyond me. But hey, free concerts!! Woo hoo!!)

Here we are, waiting to get onto the lot…..

Not only were the tickets free, but once we got onto the lot, there was free food, free drinks (open bar, not that I could partake or anything), free posters, and free gift bags. Guitar Hero stations were set up all over the place so you could try out the new game. AND, this was all taking place on one of the New York City street movie sets outside on a gorgeous, warm evening. Oh, and the concert was being held in a tiny little venue – which is the coolest way to experience any concert.

Needless to say, we were all in heaven.

There was a great energy and excitement once we got into the venue, and we managed to elbow our way up to about the 5th row.

FINALLY, at around 10:30 (this was supposed to be an 8:00 concert), Soundgarden emerged.

And all hell broke loose.

I SOOOO totally didn't realize that standing in the 5th row of people = being smack dab in the middle of the mosh pit. The music started, and suddenly I was being stepped on and tossed about like a rag doll. And I was completely trapped!! I kid you not, I was actually afraid for my life. Somehow, I managed to scramble my way out of that violent mess, and took refuge behind my friend Derek. But, not soon enough to prevent my poor little bare feet from being trampled. My feet felt kind of sticky during the concert, and I thought somebody had spilled a drink on them. It wasn't until afterwards that I realized that that stickiness was from my own blood. Crap. I’m lucky I didn’t catch hepatitis or something.

I guess that’s what I get for wearing flip flops to a rock concert.

Anyway, it was a totally fun night. Made me actually like living in LA for once. Go figure. :o)

I said, WHIP IT!!

2010-09-25T11:57:00.001-07:00

Oh. My. Gosh.

Wednesday night I experienced what has to have been one of the silliest, most hilarious things I have seen since moving to LA. I played charity Bingo...…….with some drag queens in West Hollywood. No, seriously.

One of the guys in my ward has been trying to raise money for an inner city LA school, and one of the ways he chose to do that was through this event. A local drag queen bar/restaurant called Hamburger Mary's has Bingo every Wednesday night. If anybody has a worthy cause that they are trying to raise money for, Hamburger Mary’s will host and run an event for that purpose. All you have to do is organize the guests and provide the prizes. They give 100% of the proceeds to the cause – which I think is pretty great.

Our host for the night was "Miss" Bridget of Madison County. And she was feisty. First thing, she explained the rules for the evening. But, she was quick to note that the biggest, most important rule was "NO FAKE BINGOS!!!" And if you did call out "Bingo" incorrectly, there would be consequences. Harsh consequences. She then proceeded to pick up a black leather strap, and violently SLAP it against the wall.

Oh my. We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

As the leather cracked against the wall, the expression on my friend Sterling's face was that of pure shock. "Um, can you go over the rules one more time please," he asked. I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

There was only one twit the whole night who was stupid enough to call out a fake bingo. And she was justly punished. The strap was also used to give out birthday spankings to a few different people, including my friend, Brian, who had organized the event. And when Bridget uses that strap, man – she means business!

Well, I had the time of my life. I cant repeat half of what was said during the evening, as pretty much every sentence was laced with some sort of sexual innuendo. And though I didn't win anything, my roomie, Rachel, did manage to score herself a lovely rape whistle when she tied with another dude for a bingo win, and then lost in the draw for a final winner.

All I can say is, if you have trouble getting ahold of me on Wednesday nights, it’s probably because I’m hanging with Bridget.

Better Go Find Your Ice Skates……

2010-09-15T20:35:00.001-07:00

…..because I’m pretty sure that hell has just frozen over.

Why, you ask?

Because I have just done something that I SWORE I would never do. Something that friends have been trying to convince me to do for years, but to which I have been vehemently opposed.

I layered my hair.

Okay, okay. I know that to most of you, this may not seem like a very big deal. But to me – a creature of habit and not of change – it is! For years, I have worn my hair long and straight. It was easy to maintain and required little to no thought on my part. It was by no means boring, but it wasn’t necessarily exciting either.

Well, lately I have been on this whole “seize the day” kick, and last Saturday that seizing manifested itself in a crazy (sort of) new haircut.

For those of you who don’t see me every day or who don’t know me super well, you may not even notice a difference. And maybe there isn’t a huge one. But hey, baby steps people!

Though I am still adjusting to the various lengths of hair I now have, I am LOVING the new do! And I can’t wait to experiment with it!

Maybe I should listen to my friends more often……

Take Me Out to the Movies…..

2010-09-04T16:58:00.001-07:00

So, the two YSA wards out here are full of industry-types. Mostly they are just wanna-be actors (unless you consider being in both an Old Navy AND and an Ice Breakers commercial simultaneously as hitting the big time). But there are a few ward members who have actually been involved in some pretty legit Hollywood movies/projects.

Due to this fact, every July the wards combine to hold a huge film festival. And it is probably the biggest, most publicized, and widely-attended church activity of the year. Seriously. It has become so well known that YSA wards in other states have tried to mimic it – but ours is still the original....and the best. :P

The occasion is strictly formal dress (or costume, as there is always a theme to the festival), and even has a red carpet and paparazzi. Our venue? Well, the Stake Center cultural hall, of course (nothing says red carpet more than a basketball court)!

Members from the wards are invited to make and submit 5-minute short films. Then, at the festival (which is only one night), these films are screened and voted on by the ward members. Winners are chosen, awards are given out. It's a jolly good time.

Most of the films are quite amateur (for obvious reasons), but occasionally, you get one that is so creative that it raises the bar. A film that everybody leaves the festival talking about – and continues to talk about for the next few days.

Such was the case this year.

Meet "Jane Austen's Fight Club." Not only did this film win for "Best Picture" this year, but since it was posted on YouTube, it has gone completely viral – racking up over a MILLION views in just the first two weeks alone! It has been featured on websites like Jezebel, The Daily What, CBSnews.com, Time.com, and its director (my buddy, Emily Janice Card) has even been interviewed by by Entertainment Weekly online. Crazy, huh? See, Mormons do have a sense of humor!

Anyway, for your viewing pleasure......."Jane Austen's Fight Club."

And while we're on the subject of award-winning films, here's a silly little one that I somehow ended up participating in a few years back. I am NOT an actress, and the only reason I agreed to do it was because I was told that it would only be freeze-frames. But it ended up being a lot of fun to do – and I’m glad I had the opportunity!

It also won for "Best Picture," and I randomly won for "Best Actress" (There must not have been a lot of female participants that year). Anyway, here's that film....."Time for Teens."

And here’s a picture of the cast after we won……crazy bunch of fools we are.

My roomie, Rachel, got runner up this year for her hilarious little spoof about cougars......and no, I'm not talking about the ones you find on campus at BYU......or am I?...... Meet, "To Avoid an Attack."

My BFF Sara was a dancer in this next one. I tell you, sometimes I think that Mormons must look nigh unto psychotic to the rest of the world. I give you, "Late Night Worker."

Another one of my all-time favorites is this next one, "Do Re Andy." Short. Sweet. Insane. But I love it.

Lastly, well......I'm not quite sure how to explain this last one. But I thought it was quite clever. Here is "Tom Cruise on Home Teaching." Nuff said.

Hooray for Hollywood……!!

Finally with the Times…..

2010-08-06T13:12:00.001-07:00

So, the last time I bought a new cell phone was in 2005.

What? I liked my little blue flip-phone. It may have been utterly out-dated, but it was cute, user-friendly, and most of all, I was used to it. Plus, with the recent innovation of smart phones, my choices if I were to consider purchasing a new phone were limitless. Buying one would require much thought and research –and who wants to do all that? (Yes, my laziness has hit astounding new levels).

Well, a few months ago, spurred on by the constant mocking of my dinosaur device by my sister, I finally caved. And bought myself an iPhone.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I don't know how I ever lived without this phone! Seriously, it has become like a third arm or something, and I feel like I would be absolutely crippled without it! I know that sounds a tad overdramatic, but it is amazing just how may things I use this phone for. And how often.

The only thing is, I have gotten used to having all of its little innovations and tools, and have started to expect them in other aspects of my life. For example, it now totally frustrates me that the computer charting system I use at work does not automatically capitalize my "I" and correct my spelling. I mean, really?! (Again with the laziness....)

Whatever. I'm in love with my new toy. And with the awesome cover I bought to go with it!

It’s the little things people.

Don’t Judge Me…..

2010-06-14T20:54:00.001-07:00

I have a friend, Ashley, who is getting married in a couple of weeks. I am one of her bridesmaids, and one of the responsibilities I have as a part of this role is to attend all wedding-related activities. Including the Bachelorette Party.

Now, as a Momo, this is not an activity that I usually have the opportunity to partake of.....Momos being pretty conservative and all. And to tell you the truth, I never really cared. It always seemed to me that bachelorette parties were all about strippers and drinking and clubbing; and that kind of stuff doesn't really appeal to me. Plus, I have attended enough cheesy bridal showers over the years to satisfy any need I might have for nuptual-related activities.

Anyway, Ashley decided that she wanted to have a bachelorette weekend in Vegas. Great. Debauchery central.

Admittedly, I went into this weekend with a pretty cynical attitude. Especially when I found out that the group was planning on going to the show "The Thunder from Down Under" on Saturday night. Great. Half-naked men. Like I don't get enough of that at work.

But, I love Ashley. And she was the bride. And it was what she wanted to do. Soooooo, I went to the show.

Okay, so here's the part where you don't judge me.....

I had an absolute blast at "The Thunder from Down Under." No, really. I had such a good time! And, NO, it was not because I was looking at more six packs than you would see at a Super Bowl party. No. It was because the show is actually pretty hilarious, and not at all raunchy like I thought it was going to be. There was comedy, music, dancing, audience participation. And yes, the fact that the men were unbelievably gorgeous didn't hurt either (at one point, one of the guys ripped off his shirt to reveal what I can only describe as, well, a ten-pack, and I believe that the words "Hot. Damn." may have actually escaped my lips).

I guess I should have known better – I mean, these boys are from my Motherland.

I had a great time. And I would totally do it again. Call me a tart if you want to. You're probably right.

Sweet Child O’ Mine

2010-05-24T21:19:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago, I got a frantic phone call from Blythe. She was all worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "You'll never guess what?!" I didn't know whether I should be worried or excited. She continued, "Slash is performing a last-minute concert at The Roxy THIS weekend!! We HAVE to go!!!"

Okayeeeee. This was apparently a good frantic.

Now, Blythe is quite the music connoisseur. But her favorite genre would have to be rock – you know, Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, Chris Cornell, etc. And Slash – well, he has to be one of the most talented people ever to pick up a guitar.

And while I am nowhere near as into him as my beloved sister, I was a child of the 80s, and I do love Guns N' Roses. So, we bought tickets to the show (which were only 30 bucks, by the way).

Flash-forward to Saturday night, the night of the concert. My roommate, Rachel, as well as our friends, Todd and Danielle, had also bought tickets to see Slash. It was a midnight concert (eek), so we decided to get to the The Roxy around 11. Aaaand about 75 other people decided to get there before us.

Sheesh! For a last-minute show, there sure were a lot of people who were in the know. That's okay, though, because there were still PLENTY of people that showed up after us. And, there were a ton of people who were walking up and down the line looking for tickets to buy. Apparently, this concert sold out rather quickly – like, as in they never went on sale to the general public. Only people (like Blythe) who were notified of the pre-sale were able to buy tickets. This girl who was standing in line next to us said that tickets to the show had been selling for $150 on Craigslist that morning. Crazy!

Here we are, standing around like a bunch of Sunset Boulevard street-walkers, waiting to get in…..

Anyway, they FINALLY let us in around 11:50. Since The Roxy is an extremely small venue (it probably only holds about 200 people – standing room only), we actually ended up in a pretty decent location - center stage, about 4 rows of people back. We were, however, crammed into that theater like literal sardines; personal space was not an option. It's a good thing I remembered to put on deodorant that night.....

Finally, at around 12:45 (those rock stars always have to be fashionably late), the concert started.

One word. A-MAZ-ING!!

I tell you true, I have never seen anybody move their fingers the way Slash did that night. They moved so quickly that I could barely keep up with them. Such talent.

Plus, I absolutely love that feeling when you are so close to the stage that you can literally feel the base thumping in your chest.

All in all, it was a crazy, fun night. Though we didn't get home until 3:45 in the morning, and I'm pretty sure that I breathed in enough second-hand marijuana smoke to be considered intoxicated, it was a truly unforgettable experience.

Taste the Rainbow

2010-04-29T18:11:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago, Blythe, Sara and I ventured up to the Wasatch front (also known as Utah) for some crazy and interesting fun. Crazy and interesting? In Utah? Not possible, you may say.

And ordinarily I would agree with you.

However, on this occasion there was much fun to be had. Because.......we were in Utah to attend the Festival of Colors!

For those of you who have never heard of this event before, the Festival of Colors is a celebratory festival held each spring at Hare Krishna temples around the world. Surprisingly enough, one of the largest Hare Krishna temples is in Spanish Fork, Utah (go figure).

Now, I'm sure that there is some deeper meaning behind this celebration, especially for those who are actually members of that faith. However, 99.9% of the people who show up to this festival show up for one reason: to throw brightly-colored cornstarch at one another with reckless abandon. Yup. That's it. We Mormons really should get out more.....

However, childish as it may seem – it was an absolute blast!

When we first showed up, we started heading towards the temple lawn (where the actual festival takes place). No sooner had we even set foot on the temple grounds when I was pelted with a fistful of orange powder.

What was this? Nobody had blown the start whistle!! I did not give my permission to be suchly violated!! I almost used my pepper spray on the deviant, as I felt that this attack had been both brazen and aggressive.

And then Blythe reminded me that, well, that was kind of the whole idea behind the festival. Oh yeah.

And it just got worse from there on out. Picture a mud fight, except more colorful. And corn-starchy.

By the end of the day, every square inch of my body was rainbow-colored (no really, I was finding powder in crevices for days). My brand new WHITE bra was permanently stained lavender. And my hair-dresser asked me at my appointment two weeks later if I had been spending a lot of time in the swimming pool, because my hair had a "green tinge" to it. Great.

But I had an awesome time, and would totally do it again.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the day:

Before the mayhem…..

And so it began….

This next one has to be one of my favorite pictures EVER. I can’t not laugh at it!! Apparently, Blythe reeeeaaaallly wanted to be in the picture. Love that girl. :o)

Like I said, cornstarch EVERYWHERE!

Look how white our teeth look!

After the festival, we went out to dinner at this little Italian restaurant in Provo – without showering first. What can I say, we were starving! We got many-a-look, let me tell you. They ranged from smirks of amusement to glares from people who probably thought that we had all just escaped the loony bin.

Whatever. They were all just jealous of our fashion sense.

Ummmmmm…….

2010-04-13T18:24:00.001-07:00

Okay peeps, I am a total slacker....at least of the blog kind. It seems that my life for the past few months has been kind of hectic, and as a result, I have been letting my blogging fall by the wayside. And, not only have I not been derelict in my blog writing, but in my blog reading as well. So, chances are - if anything happened in your life after Christmas-time, I probably don't know about it.

However, I am going to try and repent of my evil ways. I can't promise that there will be many updates covering the last few months. However, I will try to be better at posting from here on out!

Deal?

(See new post below)

A Truly Religious Experience

2010-04-13T18:09:00.001-07:00

Okay, so you remember that movie "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants," where four best friends of varying shapes and sizes somehow miraculously fit into the same pair of jeans? Well, I recently had somewhat of a similar experience to this in my own life......

A few months ago, Blythe, my friend Sara, and I decided to go shopping at the Camarillo Outlet Mall. Which, by the way, if you have never been to before, I highly recommend. It is freaking HUGE!! I mean, MASSIVE. We shopped for nearly 5 hours, and only covered a third of the shops! Sigh......... So many stores, so little time. :o)

But back to the point of my story. We happened upon the Off 5th store, which is the outlet center for Saks 5th Avenue. Ordinarily I would consider a store like this to be a little too "shi shi foo foo" for my taste. But I was in desperate need of new jeans, and well, they had quite a selection. On SALE.

We each grabbed about 20 pairs of different brands and styles of jeans and headed to the dressing room. And, in typical girlie fashion, proceeded to model each and every thing we tried on for each other. As we surveyed the tornado of clothes strewn about the dressing room floor, and sorted through the few items that we actually liked, we noticed something. In each of our "buy" piles, we had somehow all managed to choose the same pair of True Religion jeans. While this might not seem like an event of any consequence, let me assure you that it is. And I'll tell you why.

The three of us have completely different body types. I am tall and hippy. Blythe is medium-height and straight-bodied. And Sara is a shorty with curves. Logically speaking, there is no WAY that one single style of jeans should look good on all three of us. And yet......we all looked spectacular in these jeans.

Magical? I think so!!

And, not only are they totally adorable, but they are probably the most comfortable pair of jeans that I've ever owned – which is odd for designer clothing. Plus, they make one's booty look absolutely fabulous!

Exhibit A:

I am officially in love.

Now the only question is whether or not I should go buy another pair just so I have a spare. Hmmmmm…..that might be a bit extreme. Hmmmmmmmm…….. Or is it?

Costa Rica – Day 4 – Cry Me A River

2009-11-17T18:40:00.001-08:00

(Disclaimer: I am quite aware that it has been FOUR months since my Costa Rica trip. And yet, here I am, barely managing to post on the fourth DAY. What can I say? I’m a blog slacker as of late. However, I am determined to catalog this trip. At this point, though, these CR posts are really just for my journaling benefit. I really don’t expect any of you to actually read them. Just so ya know.)

So, Day 4 started off pretty nice and relaxing. I woke up (when I wanted to), moseyed on downstairs, and enjoyed a nice breakfast of cheese omelet and mango juice. Odd combo, I know, but it tasted great.

Most of the members of my group decided that they wanted to go riding on ATVs this day, but a few of us, including myself, decided to go white water rafting. This is something that I have always wanted to do. Well, at least for the past 5 years or so I have wanted to. There just isn't any white water rafting location really close to LA, and none of my friends ever seemed to have any interest in it. So I kinda forgot about it.

Until Costa Rica, that is......

And what better place to go water rafting! I mean, most of the country is covered in lush, green rainforests, with all sorts of crazy wildlife - which would make for quite the picturesque view!

All together, there were five of us who wanted to go rafting.

Again, the tourist van picked us up. But instead of heading straight to the rafting location, we were first brought to the rafting company's office.

Our rafting experience included a meal – which I had assumed would be picnic style once we got up to the rafting location. After all, the trip was supposed to be 4-5 hours long, and we were bound to get hungry at some point during all that. I was wrong, though, and they fed us our meal of chicken and rice at the office. Oooookay. I was already full of omelet and mango juice, but whatever.

After eating, we loaded up our rafts and hit the road. Once driving, our river guides informed us that it would take an hour and a half to reach our destination.

Excuse me?

I'm sorry, but did I get magically transported back to LA in my sleep or something? An hour and a half? The rafting locale was supposed to be in Manuel Antonio. We were currently in Manuel Antonio. How could it possibly take us that long to get anywhere in the city, especially since rush hour traffic was definitely not a factor here.

To make things even worse, the roads to the water rafting location were completely unpaved – and extremely bumpy. Plus, it was like 90 degrees outside, and the van had no air conditioning.

Full stomach, bumpy roads that were jostling said full stomach, intense nausea from said bumpy roads, blazing heat and no A/C. I was sooooo not the happy camper. And I was beginning to question my decision to do this. Like, a lot.

After about 45 minutes (of hell), we arrived at the bottom of a mountain. Were we there? Could the torture finally be over? Alas, we were still only halfway to our destination. At this point, our guides told us to take a bathroom break, as this would be the last time we would see an actual restroom for the remainder of the day (unless you count the river as a restroom......not that I would ever do that). They then loaded us into different vehicles, which I can only describe as Hummer-like. And we started driving. Again. However, this leg of the trip was actually kinda fun. We had to get to the top of this this huge mountain (where we would start our downhill river journey), and it was like we were off-roading the whole way up. Plus, the view at this point was spectacularly beautiful.

We got to the top, and had a short instructional lesson with our hilarious guides.

Here we all are at the beginning (as evidenced by our dry clothes).

And then, SPLASH! We were off!!

And it was everything I had ever imagined.

The water was not too crazy, not too tame, and was sooooooo much fun! Though I am sure that it didn't take my boatmates very long to tire of the screams and yelps that would emit from my mouth each time a huge wave would crash into (and over the side of) our raft.

Here are some of the crazy pictures from the day. So funny.

Melissa’s face in this next picture absolutely kills me. Poor thing.

About halfway through the journey, our guides had us pull our rafts over to the side of the river, and we took a short little nature hike to this gorgeous waterfall just off the beaten path. Since we were already drenched, our guides had us wade into the shallow stream, and then encouraged us to play under and in the waterfall. Though, at times, we were practically being beaten to death by the onslaught of water droplets, I would have to say that this was probably one of my coolest, and most favorite moments during my time in Costa Rica.

I am so not a nature girl. Ask anyone. I would rather clean my toilet than do something like camping. And I think that people who call hiking fun or leisurely are one peach short of a fruit basket. But even I couldn't help but be absolutely mesmerized this day as I took in all of my glorious, breathtaking surroundings. Nature was definitely my friend.

This is one experience I will truly never forget. I am so glad I had the opportunity to do it, and I hope to experience it again someday.

Pity Party

2009-10-13T20:29:00.001-07:00

Last weekend, I went on a little out-of-town jaunt to San Francisco (details of this trip will be given in another post). During the two days I was gone, I had no internet service. While I found this factor to be somewhat annoying (I am a total internet junkie), I really had no choice in the matter. So there you go.

Upon my arrival back into town, I received a voice mail message from my old roommate, Jamie. It went something like this:

“Courtney. I just saw your facebook status update. Call me! We need to talk.”

Eh?

My status update? As far as I could remember, my last facebook update involved my disgruntled emotions about being viciously attacked by my flat iron. Stimulating stuff, I know……but certainly not something that warranted an over-the-phone conversation.

I was a little worried now.

I ran downstairs and hopped online. I had 22 facebook notifications – all of which were comments on my “relationship status.”

Oh, no. This could not be good.

I clicked on my profile. Apparently, in the two short days I had been gone, I had gotten ENGAGED.

What the......WHAT?

Underneath the new status, I had comments from friends, relatives, and co-workers – either sending me congratulations, or accusing me of keeping my "engagement" a secret from them. Co-workers….oh, no. Some of my co-workers knew. Great. That meant come Monday, all of my co-workers would know, and I was going to have a lot of 'splaining to do.

How in world did this happen?

Well, as far as I can figure, in my haste to get out of work for my flight last week, I must not have logged off of my facebook account completely, and one of my cheeky co-workers must have taken it upon themselves to marry me off. I have yet to figure out who the culprit is, but trust me - I will!! In retrospect, I guess they could have done a lot worse things to my profile than changing my relationship status....but still!! That'll teach me to play on the internet when I'm supposed to be working.

Anyway, I quickly changed my relationship status, and posted an announcement that I was, in fact, NOT engaged. My profile now read "Courtney is no longer listed as engaged."

Okay, so some of you are going to think that I am pretty pathetic for what I am about to say. But, as I stared at the whole "Courtney is no longer listed as engaged" status on my page, and then as I had to repeatedly explain to co-worker after co-worker that I am, in fact, not betrothed, I started to get kinda sad.

I mean, I am happy with my life, and am totally content with my single-hood. But getting supposedly "engaged," and then subsequently "un-engaged," reminded me of just how single I am. Of how far away I am from actually uttering the words “I’m engaged” in real life (or on facebook, for that matter). And I felt a little downtrodden.

See, I told you. Pathetic, party of one!

Anyway, I’m okay now (no thanks to stupid facebook). And I’d like to share a little clip from my new favorite TV show, “Glee.”

Not only does this clip cheer me up and have me rolling with laughter each time I watch it, but the song has become my new mantra.

Don’t stop believin’, folks.

Costa Rica – Day 3 – Zippity Do Dah!!

2009-09-29T21:32:00.001-07:00

So, of the plethora of activities we had to choose from while in Costa Rica, the one thing that all 20 of us wanted to do was zip-lining through the rainforest. In fact, before I left on this trip, I was told by no less than 10 of my friends and co-workers that this was the ONE thing I HAD to do while I was there.

Because of the large size of our group, the zip-lining company suggested we make a reservation ahead of time. So Mark, our fearless organizer, took it upon himself to make this reservation - for 7:30 in the morning.

I could have killed him on the spot.

And I think he could tell. "But, the weather’s cooler in the morning," he argued, "so we won't sweat as much."

Sweating?! Really?! That was his justification?! I could care less about my perspirational activities. I was on vacation, dangit, and I didn't want to get up at dawn!!

However, the rest of the group didn't seem to care as much about the unearthly hour of the reservation, so my pleas for extra sleep were ignored.

So, the next morning I dragged my groggy self out of bed at 6:30 a.m., and somehow managed to zombie-walk my way down to the tourist van that was was waiting to transport us to the zip-lining location.

Once there, we were herded into a little office where we were required to contractually sign our lives away, and then encouraged to put on copious amounts of bug spray. Oooo-kay.

Then we got strapped into our zip-lining gear. It's a good thing I don't have issues with personal space, because some of these guys got pretty friendly cinching me into my harness.

Sexy, right?

We were then introduced to our tour guides - all of whom had jungle names like "Monkey" or "Spider." These guys were pretty cool – and quite hilarious, I might add. They kept showing off on the zip-lines for all the girls – going down backwards, doing spinning tricks – and then they would say "But don't you do that."

I thought I was going to be more scared of this activity – I have a little issue with heights. But it wasn't bad at all. I wasn't scared. I didn't even look down. All I could see was the absolute beauty of the rainforest landscape in front of me.

And apparently, I am incapable of spontaneously making any sort of a normal face in action pictures.

Not one useable frame from this entire day. I am such a dork.

After zip-lining, we were hot and starving. Solution: Lunch in the pool!

Whilst in the pool, we admired the many various sunburns that had been acquired at the beach the day before.

Melissa’s fried legs (P.S. She had the WORST farmer’s tan under these board shorts from a cruise she took last summer, and she refused to remove them the entire trip. Poor sport.).

Mark’s (very blanchable) lobster back.

That’s oh so sexy, Jamie.

And my favorite, Dallin’s “Neapolitan” arm sunburn.

So, now we’re full of food. And, thanks to Mark and his early-morning wake up call (I’m not bitter or anything), completely exhausted as well. This was the result of that combination:

That’s right. A bunch of single people, passed out in various compromising positions and locations, in nothing but our bathing suits. Just another afternoon at the Playboy mansion.

While everybody was passed out, a few of us decided to go into town and check out the local scenery. We found this AWESOME smoothie stand that made smoothies in every flavor imaginable – including passion fruit!!! Anybody who knows me well, knows that I have an infatuation with this glorious tropical gift from the gods. As a result, this smoothie stand became my second home while we were in Manuel Antonio.

I am in absolute passion-fruity heaven.

Later on in the day, we had some intruders at our lovely villa. No, not the dangerous, thieving type - but the furry type.

The rainforest that surrounded our villa was full of local wildlife – birds, sloths, lizards......and monkeys. That afternoon, we were all just sitting there – relaxing in the pool and chatting in the family room – when all of a sudden, these little critters jumped onto the balcony and proceeded to scurry up and down our stairs and then out the back door. It was probably the last thing any of us expected to see INSIDE our living quarters. But pretty cool nonetheless. It felt like we were all on an episode of "Animal Planet."

That night we went to dinner, and one of the funniest things EVER happened.

My dear friend/roomie, Melissa, ordered herself a virgin strawberry daiquiri. In fact, we all ordered fruity smoothie drinks, and quickly consumed them upon their arrival. Well, about 15 minutes after Melissa finished hers off, she looked at me (with very dazed eyes) and said, "Something's wrong with me. I feel really dizzy." At first, I thought that she was just being overly dramatic about the fact that she was starving. But then she said it again, and proceeded to rest her forehead on the table like she was going to be sick.

Hmph. Very strange Melissa behavior.

I picked up her empty strawberry daiquiri glass and sniffed its remnants. Yup, you guessed it. There was nothing virgin about this drink.

As the rest of the group learned about this mishap, fits of laughter erupted. Melissa was probably the most quiet and reserved person of the whole bunch. Out of everybody there, she was the one who I could least picture being drunk (even unintentionally). Well let me tell you – get a little booze in her, and Melissa becomes a completely different person. The girl could not stop giggling (also very strange Melissa behavior), and she kept hitting me and saying “Hey!” every five minutes.

I tell you true, I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

I kinda like drunk Melissa.

Here she is, with the intoxicating culprit in front of her.

Okay, so that’s it for Day 3. Sheesh, at the rate I’m going, I won’t be done with this series until next Fourth of July!! Sorry folks.

Costa Rica – Day 2 – Chill…..

2009-08-29T01:03:00.001-07:00

So, my roommate during this trip was my good friend Melissa.

Melissa and I have been friends for 5 years now. We met in LA, and immediately bonded over some commonalities: 1) We are both surgical nurses (I work in the Operating Room, she works in Recovery), and 2) We are both utterly retarded and completely hopeless when it comes to dealing with members of the opposite sex.

However, despite these commonalities, on this trip Melissa and I remembered that we have one really big difference, too - we are thermostatically incompatible.

Yes, it was bloody hot in Costa Rica - I will admit that. But Melissa cranked the air conditioning in our room down to 60 degrees, turned on the fan that was above our bed, slept with no covers on - and was still complaining that she was hot. And there I was - poor little Courtney - sleeping in flannel pajama pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, socks, and completely wrapped in the blanket. It was quite the ridiculous scenario, I tell you.

Anyway, despite our temperature differences, Melissa and I both crashed that first night. And we slept in the next day. And it was soooooo great.

Since we had had kind of a crazy and stressful time getting to Costa Rica, the group decided that we would just take it kind of easy and have a chill first day. And what is the most chill thing one can do in an equatorial Central American country? The beach, of course!

A couple of the guys in our group had woken up at 5:30 (?) that morning to surf. They told the rest of us that they had found a really awesome beach, located kind of in a harbor, that we should check out. So, we threw on our suits, hopped in the cars, and drove there.

Soooooo, the beach - she was nice. Only one problem, though. It was now high tide. And the shore - she was now an island. If we wanted to get to the nice beach, we were going to have to swim across a river for it.

No problem. Yes, the distance to the other side was a little wide, but the water couldn't be too deep, and the current seemed pretty docile. My friends Mark and Tanya crossed first, holding their beach bags above their heads, with little effort. Next, my friend Lindsay and I crossed. I was swimming backwards, with my head bobbing just above the surface, holding the mesh bag with my beach items securely above it. It actually wasn't that bad. The water was deeper than I'd expected - too deep to touch the bottom. But it wasn't overly strenuous to cross.

Until the current picked up. Which was when I was about halfway across the river.

Now, I fancy myself a pretty good swimmer. I was raised in San Diego, and spent much of my childhood on the beaches of North County. But my swimming capabilities apparently drop dramatically when I am fighting a strong ocean current holding a ridiculously huge bag over my head.

Lindsay and I started drifting downstream, away from the rest of our friends. As I struggled against the current, I looked back at the rocky shore where I had first started. Since my embarkment, some locals had gathered - and they now were pointing and laughing at Lindsay and me. I could almost hear them now, mocking the silly, ignorant, American females who had actually tried to swim across the deep river - during high tide no less - to reach the beach shore. Looking back, it probably wasn't the smartest idea.....but it made sense at the time.

Well, Lindsay and I did eventually make it across. But it wasn't easy. And we were waaaay downstream from where we were supposed to be. And let’s just say that my beach bag was no longer above my head by the time we reached the shore. Yeah, I completely ruined my copy of "The Host."

Everybody else in the group was able to hitch a ride across the river in a motorboat that suddenly decided to show up. Yeah, apparently one of the locals saw an opportunity to make some money by charging everybody a dollar each to shuttle them across the gorge. And where was this helpful Samaritan when I was drowning, I ask you?

I didn't bring my camera to the beach (thank goodness), so I don't have any pictures of this ordeal. But I kinda wish I did. Or at least a video....

We spent the rest of the afternoon at two different beaches - the above-referenced one, and one that was further north. I made a rookie mistake, though. Although it was quite warm outside, there was a thick cloud cover, making the weather seem really overcast. This lured me into a false sense of security when it came to sun exposure, and I did not reapply my sunscreen nearly as often as I should have. Boy did I pay for that. By the end of the day, I had turned a lovely shade of dark pink. And I am sure that if my mother had been there, she would have lectured me ad nauseam for these capricious actions. (When my sisters and I were kids, she used to lather us with Bullfrog sunscreen and make us wear t-shirts at the beach. Do you think that that could be considered child abuse?)

That night, we all went out to dinner at a restaurant called "El Avion." Translation: The airplane. Strange name for an eating establishment, I know. But the restaurant was built around an actual old WWII airplane.

They even used one of the wings as the bar counter. Kinda funny.

So, the picture below (taken at the plane restaurant) is one of my favorite from the whole trip.

It may not look like much to the outside observer, but it is the implication behind the photo that I love.

Melissa HATES having her picture taken. And, as previously mentioned, I am a photo whore. I am constantly seeking out the perfect shot, and will keep snapping away until I get it. Well, I was trying to get a cute picture of Melissa and I with our matching Pina Coladas, and I just couldn't get one that I liked. Finally, 15 shots later (I know, I need help), I did. Later, when I was looking through all the discards, I came upon this picture and busted up laughing at Melissa's expression. She looks like she is literally being tortured. I can just see it in her eyes, a cry for help - "Save me, please, from this flashbulb-obsessed maniac!!" She is such a good friend to put up with me all the time.

When we got home, we discovered that we had a little visitor.

A 7-legged one, to be precise.

Yup, in Costa Rica, they grow everything big – including insects. Once spotted, this little intruder evoked much screaming and pointing and running from our little group. Jonathan decided that he would try and catch it humanely, so that he could release it back into the wild from whence it came.

Yeah, that was a good idea in theory. Excepting that he tried to catch it using a bread basket full of gaps. Nice, Jonathan.

Spidey was eventually captured and set free, but it was not without much effort and drama – and noise, from the terrified bystanders.

Well, that is it for Day 2. Phew! I promise that the next few posts will not be such novels!

Costa Rica – Day 1 – And Away We Go!!

2009-08-19T17:32:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I took nearly 500 pictures during my week in Costa Rica. That’s right. I’m a photo whore.

Ever since I arrived home, I have been asking myself “How in the world am I going to fit all of my great Costa Rica stories and photos into one blog post?” How? The task seemed so daunting, so massive. Nigh unto impossible.

So, as somewhat of a solution, I have decided to give each day in Costa Rica its own separate blog post - for my sanity and yours, lest you are all forced to endure one single post longer than the King James version of the Bible.

Perhaps this is not the best solution. I may end up boring you all to tears, and cause a disinterest in all things Central America in the process. Oh, well . I don't care. This blog is really more of a journal anyway.

And on that note, here we go……….

So, a few months back, my friend Mark decided that he wanted to have one last blow-out trip before he left LA to move to Salt Lake City. And he chose Costa Rica as the destination. So, he sent out an email with all the details, and when all was said and done, 16 of us had committed to go. That’s right. Mormons always travel in packs. A couple of weeks later, 4 more people decided to join the fray (though they had to make separate travel and lodging arrangements), bringing the grand total to 20 people – 12 girls, and 8 boys.

Our flight to Costa Rica was a red-eye flight on the Fourth of July. We literally went from watching fireworks on a friend's rooftop to the airport.

Leanne and I freezing our buns off on the roof

LAX was a madhouse! I would have never imagined that there could be that many people at the airport at such an insane hour of the morning.

Finally, at 1:45 am, we boarded the plane.

(Side note: We flew TACA, which is a Central American airline. Having never visited Central/South America before, this was not an airline I was familiar with. But airlines are all pretty much the same, right? Uh, yeah.......Word to the wise - NEVER fly TACA. I feared for my life on more than one occasion, including a 5 second engine failure/nose dive on the return flight, whilst I was sleeping, no less. Talk about a rude awakening! Also, I'm pretty sure I got food poisoning from one of their meals. Upon returning to LA, one of my Hispanic co-workers informed me that not even the Central Americans fly TACA because of its reputation. Great.)

We had a 5 hour flight ahead of us, and luckily most of the group was pretty exhausted by the time our plane took off (and those who weren't exhausted quickly dosed themselves with Tylenol PM).

My row-mates, Jonathan and Austen, and I decided that we weren't quite ready to catch some Zs, so we opted to play a friendly game of UNO.

Jonathan, however, quickly lost interest in the card game, and passed out under his blanky.

After our 5 hour flight, we had an hour layover in El Salvador. And seeing as it was now 7:00 in the morning, and all we had eaten was some stale plane crackers and some very questionable plane pancakes, we decided to get some breakfast at the airport. We bought some pupusas in a little cafe - and they were delicious!

And then we were off on our connecting flight to San Jose, Costa Rica, which was another hour away.

“Pura Vida!” We finally made it!

Going through customs

Our class picture. Aren’t we all such well behaved little children?

Because there were 16 of us, we needed 4 rental cars. After haggling with the car company about some weird insurance they said we needed, but we had never heard of, we finally set out for our first destination, Manuel Antonio - which was a 3-hour car ride away (this was a veeeery long first day, by the way).

We were quick to learn that roads in Costa Rica - yeah, not so simple. First of all, there is an extreme lack of road-signage in general. One must be vigilant, and pay very close attention to road maps and landmarks, lest one ends up in Panama.

Second of all, several of these so-called "highways" go from two-lane to one-lane without any warning. That's one lane TOTAL. Yeah, we had to take turns sharing the road with the oncoming traffic. Weird, and somewhat aggravating.

This is one example of this strange phenomenon. P.S., this suspension bridge was so old and rickety, it looked like it belonged in an “Indiana Jones” movie. Yet another instance where Costa Rica made me take my life in my hands…….

Third of all, apparently the Costa Rican government doesn't believe in paving all of its major roads (?). Not only was this extremely bumpy, but very carsick-making. It also made sleeping through the car ride completely impossible.

Anyway, because of the above driving factors, my car (I was NOT the driver) made a wrong turn about 10 minutes into the trip. Yeah, we're smart. But we did figure out that we had made that wrong turn after about another 5 minutes, so I guess we're not complete idiots. At that point, though, we were completely separated from the other three cars - left to fend for ourselves in the Costa Rican outback. Somehow, though, we managed to make it to Manuel Antonio - and what's more, we were the first carload to arrive!!

This was our Manuel Antonio housing - Tanager Villa at Manuel Antonio Estates.

This four-story villa had 8 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, a kitchen, a pool, a balcony - and was pure heaven. This was our gorgeous view from the balcony.

Delicious, if you ask me.

Okay, so now we've arrived. It's 85 degrees out and really humid. We're hot, sweaty, and really want to get out of our traveling clothes and into our bathing suits. Just one problem. Our suitcases are in another one of the cars!!!!

Are you freaking kidding me? I knew I shouldn't have worn workout pants on the plane!!

The only good thing about this whole situation was that we got first dibs on choosing our rooms, so I guess that kind of made up for the ridiculously hot wardrobe.

And, at least we had arranged to have dinner waiting for us when we arrived. We were starving, so we absolutely gorged ourselves on the wonderful food, and that seemed to pass the time a little.

Finally, TWO HOURS later, the other cars showed up. Apparently, they made a really wrong turn.

Now that we had our luggage back, it was time to bring on the swimming pool!! And the silliness.

Yes, we’re all adults. Why do you ask?

And what LDS single adult gathering would be complete without a rousing game of full-contact Nertz?

All in all, it was a really wonderful first day in Costa Rica. But boy were we tired by the end of it!

Welcome to the Insanity that is My Family

2009-07-25T12:53:00.001-07:00

So, in my family, we are all HUGE Monty Python fans. I guess it is just all part of being raised by an Australian.

I understand that this kind of humor is somewhat of an acquired taste (for Americans, in particular). But if you ever want to see any member of the Sudweeks clan in absolute fits of laughter, just sit us down in front of anything starring John Cleese or Michael Palin, and pure hilarity is almost guaranteed.

Well, my sister, Blythe, and her boyfriend, Easton, are currently backpacking across western Europe (They even managed to visit the foothills of Mount Tibidabo. $20 to the person who knows what that is referencing.)

So, of course, while they were in Scotland, they had to stop at Doune Castle. This castle is the location where they filmed a famous scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," in which King Arthur and his knights have a confrontation with some silly French guards.

And, so of course, Blythe had to re-enact part of this scene (hence, the French accent).

Most of you will probably not find this re-enactment to be funny in the least. In fact, it may cause some of you to think that there is a strain of mild retardation that runs in my family.

All I can say is, I have never been more proud to call Blythe my sister.

<a href="http://video.msn.com/?mkt=en-US&playlist=videoByUuids:uuids:97baf294-47be-41b5-b4dd-b8564b43b608&showPlaylist=true" target="_new" title="Doune Castle">Video: Doune Castle</a>

Blog Blackout

2009-07-04T18:26:00.001-07:00

So, first of all, happy Fourth of July everyone!!

As I write this, I am mere hours away from taking a flight outta here – to Costa Rica!!

That’s right – for the next week, I will basking on the beaches and swinging through the rainforests of Costa Rica’s western coastline, and I couldn’t be more excited!!

Since the internet availability is kind of unpredictable down there, I probably won’t be posting during my vacay. However, once I get back…………get ready for a deluge!

On a separate, but somewhat related, summertime note, look at these totally cute flip-flops I just bought.

Aren’t they adorable?

See you in a week!!

Girls Just Wanna Have Fu-uun……..

2009-06-24T21:42:00.001-07:00

The prodigious lyrics to this Cyndi Lauper tune certainly rang true a couple of delightful weekends ago.

Blythe and I decided it would be fun to have a little girls’ getaway weekend in Las Vegas. So, I drove out from Cali with my friends Kim and Sara, and she drove out from Utah with her friends Kim and Nikki (I know, Kim overload). Blythe’s boyfriend, Easton, was kind enough to let us stay at his awesome loft, and the mischief ensued from the very second we all got together.

It was a most awesome event.

The weekend was filled with a plethora of activities; however they consisted of a few main themes:

Eating:

Mmmmmm….

Serendipity Frozen Hot Chocolate. Decadent!!

Sara chowing down on some Baja Fresh!

Breakfast at The Original Pancake House.

The waffle fries in the bottom right corner were to die for!

F.A.O. Schweetz!!

Now, I must exclude Miss Kimothy from this particular activity. She was on some crazy diet that consisted of plain chicken breasts, Mahi Mahi, and broccoli (which made her quite gassy, I might add). Hence, all she would “eat” on our food outings was organic herbal tea.

I will say this – the girl has some amazing self-control. NOT pig out in Las Vegas? Almost unheard of.

Relaxing in/at the pool:

You’ll notice that there are no pool pictures of me. That is because I plan on destroying all evidence of the fact that I was ever in a bathing suit that weekend. Pasty white. Not pretty. Went to a tanning salon last week and bought a month’s worth of tans.

Gallivanting like fools around Caesar’s Palace:

Ummmm……I really have no good explanation for these pictures. Excepting that six hungry girls can always find some way to get into trouble when they are let loose in a casino that has an ample supply of props. Nuff said.

Playing around in a revolving door

Playing around with David’s, um….jewels.

Notice Kim’s pout. She’s just realized that she can’t partake in the chocolatey goodness!

Shazaam!!

Ah ha!! Finally, a knight in shining armor!!

They say that Vegas is supposed to be like Disneyland for grown-ups. I think that it lived up to this reputation, don’t you?

Playing with the “Pink Glitter-Bouncy-Ball O’ Fun”:

So, on their way down to Vegas, Blythe’s carload stopped in Beaver, Utah. There, at a podunk little gas station, they picked up what has to be the best, most entertaining little toy ever known to man.

The “Pink Glitter-Bouncy-Ball O’ Fun.”

A bouncy ball? What’s so fun about a bouncy ball?

Well, let me tell you. This is no ordinary bouncy ball. First of all, it is HUGE – the biggest one that I’ve ever seen by far (that’s what she said – he he). Secondly, it is bright pink – perfect for a girls’ weekend. Thirdly, it has glitter and – wait for it, wait for it – a strobe light on the inside, so that when you bounce it, the ball sparkles and shimmers like a disco ball.

So. Awesome!!

This ingenious little toy provided us with hours (well maybe not hours) of laughter and entertainment, both on land and at sea.

(You see how red Blythe’s eyes are in the following picture? Well, if you could read what the bracelet she is holding says, you would understand why. Little devil.)

At the end of our trip, right before we were about to leave the loft, Kim H. decided that she wanted to know what would happen to the “Pink Glitter-Bouncy-Ball O’ Fun” if she dropped it off the balcony. Mind you, the loft is on the 9th story of the building.

Bets were placed. The ball was dropped. And wouldn’t you know it, that little bugger didn’t even end up with a scratch on it!! It is apparently invincible!!

The only one who didn’t think that the ball would burst upon impact was Kim W., so she got to take it home as a prize.

I want one too!!

Being educated on the “ins and outs” of tea bags by Ms. Kimberly W.:

The girl is truly a kook. What else can I say? And I love her for it!

This girls’ weekend was a total blast, and I can’t wait to go back again!!

From the Mouths of Babes

2009-06-16T17:58:00.001-07:00

This past weekend, my older sister, Shannon, her husband, and their four kids flew down to San Diego for a short visit before taking off on a family vacation cruise from Long Beach. Since they live in Seattle, I hardly ever get to see them, so I drove down to SD to get in some quality time with the nieces and nephews.

Seeing as I don’t have any kids of my own (that I know of - there was that crazy Spring Break in Miami a few years back......), it always amazes me how quickly they seem to grow up. I mean, I don't want to sound like one of those old fuddy duddys that waxes nostalgic about it "seeming like only yesterday that you were born." But seriously, it was just yesterday that these kids were born. Three out of four of them were born when I was technically of marrying age, so the fact that they are now fast approaching legal dating age absolutely floors me!

I am also constantly enlightened by the conversations I have with these kids.

For example, meet one of my nieces, Elyse (11 years).

On the car ride home from the airport, she started telling me about this boy from church named Dane, whom she has a HUGE crush on. Dane is an older man – 12 years old – and he and Elyse are in the same Sunday School class together. However, it seems that Dane has absolutely no idea that Elyse even exists – as anything other than a buddy, of course. This is quite frustrating for little Elyse, as she would love it if Dane were her boyfriend.

'Scuse me? I'm sorry, but since when were my 11-year-old niece (whom I still mentally picture as a toddler) and I on the same playing field? Exactly when did she develop the ability to have romantical feelings, I ask you? So. Weird.

However, it's nice to know that boys can manage to frustrate and confuse you at almost any age, and that I am not alone in my plight.

And then there are my nephews, Justin (13 years) and Adam (also 11 years – he and Elyse are twins).

Saturday morning, I came downstairs to get myself some breakfast, only to find Justin doing the same thing. I greeted him, and then compulsorily asked, "So, how was your sleep?" He replied, "It was okay, except that I was woken up in the middle of the night by a clap of thunder." This puzzled me a little bit, as I had not been aware of any inclement weather overnight. Justin could sense my confusion, and went on to explain that what he had meant by that statement was that Adam had been farting in his sleep.

Ew.

But I had to laugh. When Adam came downstairs a few minutes later, I questioned him about the accusation, thinking that he would vehemently deny that any such thing ever occurred. But alas, he confessed to the entire gaseous incident. And what's more - he was proud of it.

It's nice to know that boys start honing these combustion skills at such a young age. I so have something to look forward to when I get married.

And then we have my sister's youngest, Ashley (6 years).

Oh, Ashley. Let's just say that she is a little.....wily.

Okay, she's out of control. Hell on wheels. The girl looks like an angel, but truly is the devil in disguise.

But I love her anyway.

So, last week, a few days before the family left on their vacation, Ashley woke up in the middle of the night, bored. What did she do to appease this boredom, you may ask? Read a book? Play with her toys? Pull out the Crayola?

Oh, no.

Ashley pulled out the scissors – and went to town on her shoulder-length locks (Angela Sudweeks, if you are reading this, I totally thought of you). And apparently, Ashley must have thought that she would shortly be joining the armed forces, because in a few areas, she actually cut her hair down to her scalp.

As you can imagine, my sister was horrified. I, on the other hand, found this whole situation quite amusing, and would burst into fits of laughter every time Ashley would walk into the room.

My sister was not amused at my amusement.

Here are a few pictures to document this “tragedy.” Keep in mind, the pictures below were taken AFTER Ashley had gone to a hairdresser to have her hair touched up. So you can only imagine what the original hack job looked like.

Notice the fact that the hair on the right side of her head is longer than the hair on the left side of her head. :o)

So. Freaking. Hilarious. I know, I’m such a mean aunty.

Gotta love these kids, though.

This one’s for you, Blythe!!

2009-06-08T16:28:00.001-07:00

Inside joke. Sorry everyone.

But I thought about it today and it made me giggle. Love you B!!

Sweatin’ With the Oldie

2009-06-02T21:12:00.001-07:00

Anybody who knows me well knows that I hate exercise. No, let me rephrase that – I abhor exercise. This has been the case for as long as I can remember. In fact, I specifically remember wanting to have a nervous breakdown in junior high every time my PE teacher would announce it was “20-minute run day.” Call me lazy if you want to – you’re probably mostly right. Lately, however, my excuse has just been that I am so tired all the time from work, and exercise is the absolute last thing on my mind. So there.

Anyway, as a result of all this (ahem) exhaustion, I am pretty out of shape. So, I should have known better when a few of my girlfriends suggested we do something that was quintessentially LA; something which, upon initial assessment, seemed like it might be kinda fun. What is this intriguing activity, you may ask? Well, last Saturday, we……..

…..worked out with Richard Simmons.

That’s right – brillo-head, glitter-shirt, wahaaaay-too-short shorts, Mr. “Sweatin’ to the Oldies” himself – Richard Simmons.

Apparently, unbeknownst to me, Richard Simmons still owns and operates a workout studio in Beverly Hills, and holds his “Slimmons” workout class there three times a week (how I have lived in LA for five years and managed to miss this little gem of knowledge is beyond me). Considering the fact that this guy is in his sixties, that is actually pretty impressive.

Now, when I say that I thought this class would be fun, this was based on my TV exposure to Richard Simmons. The man, hyperactive as he might be, seemed like a hoot, and I thought that taking a class from him might, if anything, be entertaining. Plus, it was just an aerobics class – how hard could it be? Right? Right?

Weeeeeell, I forgot to take two very important factoids into consideration.

As previously mentioned, I am extremely out of shape (though I didn’t realize just how out of shape that actually was).
I am hopelessly and utterly uncoordinated. I really mean it. Ask anyone who knows me. When I try to dance, I look like a retarded string bean having a seizure. Think Elaine from “Seinfeld” here, folks. Plus, I don’t pick up steps very quickly – which, in an aerobics workout, change every 2.5 seconds.

Well, Richard must have picked up on the above factoids, because he kept picking on me!!! Seriously, it was so annoying and embarrassing. Big bully!!

Did I enjoy this class? Uh, no. Did I leave this class with better self-esteem than when I went in? Negatory. Am I a bigger fan of Richard and his “Slimmons” workout? That’s laughable. Did I appreciate the $50 parking ticket I got from the City of Beverly Hills during his class? Grrrrrrrr.

But here’s the thing. This whole experience has made me realize that I really do want to get in shape – I mean, I’m young, and I really should be more fit and healthy. So, as of today, I am going to start to make some exercise goals for my life – and I plan to stick to them! Really. Then, perhaps someday, I can return to “Slimmons” and hold my head high in fitness triumph.

And I guess I can thank Richard for that. Femmy bastard.

Disappointing!!

2009-05-25T12:57:00.001-07:00

My television shows have left me at a loss for words over the past couple of weeks, especially the ones of the reality variety. I know, I need to get a life.

But, come on, REALLY?!

AND

Are you freaking kidding me?

AND

What in the WORLD were you thinking?

Let the boycotts begin.

Yippee ki-yay!!

2009-05-23T00:31:00.001-07:00

Thanks to my friend, Ashley, I have had this song in my head ALL bloody week……..

And I can’t get it out!!!!

Somebody, please kill me – kill me now!!!

Purrrrr-ty

2009-05-13T17:10:00.001-07:00

So, I have a confession.

Thanks to my cheeky Australian mother, who is obsessed with all things BBC, I am now a huge fan of “The Graham Norton Show,” a late night comedy talk show which airs mainly in the UK.

The host, Graham Norton, has to be one of the most ridiculous people I’ve ever come across. He says and does some of the most cheeky and asinine things to his guests (and the audience, for that matter), and pulls stunts/plays games that can only be described as insane. He has a particular fascination with bashing Amy Winehouse, and his comments about her bring me much enjoyment. If you get BBC in your cable package, and enjoy cheeky, slightly off-color humor, I highly recommend watching this show. It will change your life.

Anyway, the other day Graham was showing the audience pictures from a book he’d found called “Why Paint Cats.” Apparently, this comedy book, written by New Zealand author Burton Silver, describes the practice of “cat painting.” Now, when I say “cat painting,” I don’t mean painting pictures of cats, but rather, painting on cats. I just about died with laughter as he showed some of the pictures. Literally, I almost did.

Okay, in all fairness, some of these paint jobs are actually quite beautiful. And, they must have taken the artists hours upon hours to complete.

But, I mean, REALLY!! Who does this?

I just had to share. Here are a few of my favorites:

And my all time favorite……

Side note: So, after I started writing this post, I found a couple of websites that claimed that these pictures were not real, and that the “paint” on the cats was actually added digitally. The author, however, refuses to confirm or deny this claim.

Personally, I choose to believe that the cats were really painted. It’s just more fun that way.

Why I love my job

2009-05-05T17:28:00.001-07:00

I think that it is absolutely hilarious that, no matter how old we get, given the right circumstances, we can revert right back into child-like behavior.

As a single gal, I have the opportunity to revert quite often (hello, can you say “brownies for dinner, please?”). But that’s my personal life. You would think that in my work life – my professional life, no less – things would be much more mature.

Yeah, not really. In fact, it might be worse.

This has been strongly underscored to me from a few recent events that have occurred lately at work. One of my managers, Carrie, likes to plan out little games for us whenever there is a holiday. Whether it is “Pin the Tail on Cupid” or “Four-Leaf-Clover Roulette,” she always thinks of something creative. And there are prizes, too, usually consisting of some sort of candy and/or cash.

However, among all of these fabulous holidays with all of their silly games, there are two favorites – Easter and Cinco de Mayo. And we eagerly look forward to them every year.

For Easter, Carrie hides 30 Easter eggs all over the OR.

As you could imagine, there are literally hundreds of places to hide these eggs, and Carrie doesn’t even try to make it easy for us. We anxiously wait all day for the eggs to be hidden, until finally, a voice comes over the loud speaker announcing “The 8OR Annual Easter Egg Hunt has officially begun!”

Then all hell breaks loose.

Everybody starts running around like crazy people, like it is the day after Christmas, and each Easter egg is a $20 flat-screen TV. We frantically start digging through drawers of syringes, dumping out boxes of surgical drapes, and scaling the instrument tray shelves. The whole time we are screaming and laughing and squealing with glee. Any stray passer-by might think they have mistakenly entered the psychiatric ward.

This year, I only found two eggs (each worth a dollar), but I had the time of my life in the hunt!

For Cinco de Mayo (which is today), we usually have a piñata, and this year was no exception. We dressed said piñata up to look like one of our least favorite surgeons (he is a notorious monster) – and boy was it therapeutic to take a whack at him.

We strung him up in one of the empty rooms between two IV poles, and had the time of our lives. Forget the fact that we were swinging a huge stick around mere feet from equipment that cost literally hundreds-of-thousands of dollars. Oh, and the fact that surgery was going on in another room just around the corner. Quite trivial, if you ask me.

Money and candy went flying all over the place as we gutted our poor idiot surgeon, and I truly don’t think I have laughed that hard in a very long time.

My manager, Yoly, being spun around.

Doree had a particular fascination with the piñata’s crotch.

I knew there was a reason I didn’t play sports in high school.

Mariana and Marisol. You know, for being 7 months pregnant, Mariana sure managed to get a lot of candy.

“Dive, dive, dive!!”

Now, that’s the kind of bouquet I’d like to receive!

Oh, and I got the big prize this year – an honor I had yet to attain. That’s right, I got the fiver!!

Idolicious

2009-04-27T21:08:00.001-07:00

Adam Lambert.

From the start of this season's American Idol, I have not wanted to like this guy.

Sure, there was no denying he was a talented singer; but something about him just seemed to grate on my nerves.

Maybe it was his crazy hair or his Emo clothes. Or maybe it was the fact that he wore black eyeliner (which I still find a little odd). It may have even had something to do with his flair for the dramatic because of his musical theater background. I don't know.

Whatever it was, I went into this season with a bias against this guy, convinced that I was never going to like him. I didn't want to like him.

Well.....I guess we can't always get what we want, because I have now done a complete 180, and am officially front-and-center on the Adam Lambert bandwagon. This guy has to be one of the most amazing, unique, and innovative people to ever hit the American Idol stage. He sings with such passion and emotion. Each week of competition, just when I think he can't possibly get any better, he outdoes himself. Every single week (well, excepting country week – Johnny Cash had to have been rolling over in his grave after that performance). I watch in awe, completely dumbfounded, and all I can say is “wow.”

Even Simon Cowell, who can usually barely manage to even crack a smile most weeks, gave Adam a standing ovation a couple weeks back, something that he had never done for any contestant before – ever.

I truly believe that this guy deserves to win. I guess that means I had better start actually voting, lest there be another Chris Daughtry incident.

And while we’re on the subject of Idol……..

So, there is this huge billboard down the street from my apartment, located at the intersection of Pico and Overland. This billboard also happens to be a couple of blocks away from the Fox Studios Lot as well. Every year, when the Final 12 (or 13, this year) contestants have been chosen for American Idol, their pictures are put up on this billboard, with the caption “Who will you choose?” below them. Then, as each contestant is voted off, a big “X” is put over their face, until only one contestant remains. This contestant then gets a whole new billboard, with just their face on it, with the caption “Winner.”

I drive by this billboard every day on my way to work, and having lived in LA for a little over 5 years now, I have been witness to 5 cycles of these American Idol billboards. This may sound a little crazy, but I find a strange sort of comfort in watching this billboard's evolution. It's like, you know how some people measure their life passing by seasons or holidays or birthdays; well it seems that I like to measure my life passing by the weekly changes of an American Idol billboard. I love to stare up at the contestants' faces as I zoom by each day, smiling at my favorites and scoffing at the Sanjayas that have somehow managed to amazingly remain. I even find myself getting a little excited each Thursday morning as I see the little man climbing the ladder up to the billboard to paste the "X" over the face of the latest contestant to be voted off.

I know, I'm odd.

But it’s something I’ve come to accept.

Say It, Don't Spray It

2009-04-15T15:49:00.000-07:00

I am somewhat of a germaphobe by nature.

Perhaps this is because of all the blood, bacteria, and other biohazards I am exposed to daily at my job. Or, perhaps it relates to the fact that, when I was younger, my mother drilled into my head the warning that I must "NEVER touch the door handle of a public restroom with my bare hand," lest I die a horrible death at the hands of some insidious toilet-related scourge (P.S. I happen to agree with this wholeheartedly. Have you seen how many people still don't wash their hands after going to the bathroom? Yuck!).

Anyway, it is because of this aversion to germs that I have developed my current pet peeve: Automatically-flushing toilets.

I never ever actually sit on a public toilet, even if there are toilet-seat-covers available. If I must use a public restroom, I will use what I like to refer to as the "hanging/squatting method” to empty my bladder. I won't go into detail as to what this method involves, since I'm sure you can already deduce that from the title.

This is a commonly used method amongst most female public-toilet-goers, and though sometimes accidents involving aim and stream flow (down the leg and onto the pants) can happen, it is still much preferable than the alternative of getting one’s pristine but-cheeks anywhere near the contaminated toilet seat.

However, using this method on a toilet that has an automatic flushing sensor proves to be difficult. The stupid sensor seems to only be able to detect bodies that are sitting, not squatting. Thus, they usually choose to flush right in the middle of the entire process, sending a spray of icky toilet water onto my backside, thereby defeating the entire purpose behind this difficult maneuver – preventing one’s self from toilet germs!! Grrrrrr!!

You would think that in a world with such technological advances as the IPhone, TiVo, and GPS devices, they would be able to master something as simple as an automatically-flushing toilet sensor.

Until they do, I am just going to have to hold it.

Smarty-pants

2009-03-12T21:33:00.001-07:00

So, my beautiful, intelligent, amazing, glorious sister, Blythe Eden, got accepted into the Masters Program for Marriage and Family Therapy at the University of San Diego this week. Wahoo!!

This is quite a difficult program and a difficult university to get into, and she worked so extremely hard to get where she is – and it paid off. She begins matriculating as a Torero this Fall. I am one very proud big sister.

Congratulations, Blythe-O!! I have no doubt that you will totes be the star of your class in no time!!

My Valentine in Anaheim

2009-03-09T20:52:00.001-07:00

Valentine’s Day – a time for love, a day of romance. Yeah, excepting when you’re single. Then it’s just plain annoying.

This day has long been nothing more than “Singles Awareness Day” for me, and I’m usually pretty okay with that; though I have to admit that it would be nice to occasionally have somebody to snuggle and smooch with. But I digress…….

Anyway, for Valentine’s Day this year, a group of my girlfriends and I decided to spend this blessed event at the happiest place on earth. That’s right. We went to Disneyland.

is for Courtney (and for Cookie).

Considering that I live a mere 40 minutes away from Anaheim, you would think that I would go there all the time. Surprisingly, though, I hadn’t been to Disneyland in like, 4 years. And I had NEVER been to California Adventure (I know, I’m such a bad Californian). So, we bought some Park Hopper tickets, and began our fun-filled day!

We decided to hit California Adventure first.

But, of course, we needed a snack before doing so.

The first ride we went on was the Orange Stinger ride. I’m pretty sure that this ride is supposed to be tame enough for children – but it wasn’t tame enough for me.

Maybe I’m just a wuss or something (quite possibly so), but I’m telling you, this ride was pure evil. There is just something about flying four stories in the air with my feet hanging down free as a bird that freaks me out!! My friend Ashley said that she couldn’t stop laughing the whole ride because every time she looked over at me my eyes were sealed shut. Perhaps I am just getting old……

I think that my favorite ride at California Adventure was the Toy Story Ride. This ride is basically a 3-D video game that you play for points – while riding in a cart that is constantly moving around. There are two people per cart, and I found it to be particularly entertaining.

I totally beat Melissa’s score. Of course, we were both slaughtered by the 10-year-olds in the cart next to us – but what else would you expect of their generation?

We hit a few more rides, and then had dinner at this really cool restaurant called Rainforest Café.

The ambience in this place was amazing. It was literally like eating in a rainforest (‘cause I do that all the time) – complete with dozens of luscious green trees, a gorgeous waterfall, snakes and noisy monkeys hanging from the trees, and lightning and thunder storms every half-hour. I whole-heartedly recommend the pot roast there.

By the time we finished dinner, the sun had gone down – and it had gotten miiiiiiighty cold.

Luckily, overly-anal, always-cold, paranoid Courtney had brought some extra hats and mittens for everyone – so the frostbite was staved off just a little bit.

Just call me C. Diddy. Word.

“What do you mean – they’re out of toilet-seat covers?”

Ready for flight (and an inclement snowstorm, apparently).

The beginning of Kim’s cold-induced delirium. It only got worse from here on out.

We headed to Disneyland at this point (running most of the way to keep warm), and since all of us had been to Disneyland before on multiple occasions, and it was getting colder by the minute, we skipped any rides that involved either water/getting wet or standing in line outside for longer than 10 minutes. That’s okay, though, because one of the rides we did manage to hit was one of my absolute favorites – Space Mountain!! I swear, that ride will never get old!!

My favorite part of the day was getting to watch “Fantasmic” in New Orleans Square. This show has been running for about 16 years now, and will always hold a special place in my heart – partly because of the nostalgia of my childhood, but mostly because of the perceived meaning behind the show.

As I sat there – watching Belle and the Beast and Jasmine and Aladdin dancing to their love songs; watching Mickey fighting the evil queen and other formidable foes; watching Peter Pan and Captain Hook battle it out on the bough of a pirate ship – I was transported to another world.

To a world where magic and imagination reign. To a world where there is still hope and innocence. Where good always triumphs over evil. A simpler, more peaceful world. And it made me smile.

I suppose that is why I will always love Disneyland, even though I am 30 years old. Because, in our current world – a world full of ever-increasing violence and despair, a world filled with confusion and declining moral values, and so much unhappiness – it’s nice to feel that magic, and to believe that it does exist, even if it is just for 20 minutes a night in a little park in Anaheim.

I believe in magic. Do you?

My Latest Obsession

2009-02-20T18:54:00.001-08:00

So, my friend Ashley recently told me about her new favorite cereal - “Peanut Butter Panda Puffs” by Envirokidz. As the name suggests, this is a kids cereal, and I am no kid; but then again, aren't all the best-tasting consumables marketed to the younger generation?

I happened to be at Whole Foods the other day (strange, I know), and spotted said cereal on the shelf. "Hmmmmmm....." I thought. The box says that they are organic (and you all know how I feel about health food). However, Ashley has impeccable taste, and if she likes them, they can't be that bad. So I bought them. And I bought a box of “Leapin' Lemurs," also by Envirokidz, since they looked kind of interesting and had the words "chocolate flavored" in the description (plus, I loved saying the name!).

These cereals are organic, gluten-free, wheat-free, low-sodium, have no trans-fats, synthetic additives, or preservatives – and despite that, I absolutely love them!! I can’t stop eating them. It’s like they put an addictive chemical in them or something (and I crave them more than fortnightly!).

Now I just might be forced to try Envirokidz “Gorilla Munch” and “Orangutan-O’s.” Seriously, could there be anything more fun to eat than kids cereal? I think not.

Damn Recession

2009-02-11T19:39:00.000-08:00

So, I went into See’s Candies today for a little sugar rush, and for the first time EVER, was not offered a free sample. Nor were any of the other people waiting in line with me.

Excuse me? Baking powder? No free chocolaty goodness?! The free sample is the main motive behind any of my visits to See’s, and I am now truly saddened by its apparent discontinuance.

What next? Are we going to have to start paying for the use of pillows and blankets on airline flights? Oh wait………

Stupid economy.

That's Amore!

2009-02-05T21:30:00.000-08:00

The very first restaurant I ever went to upon moving to LA was this awesome little Italian place called C&O Trattoria. Upon walking through its doors, I instantly fell in love with the atmosphere. It has both inside and outside seating, but the outside seating is my favorite because it looks like a quaint Italian grotto. Actually, truth be told, I like the outside seating because something about the scenery reminds me of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” ride at Disneyland – you know, the part in the ride where that chubby guy is getting dunked in the well, and that woman is up on the balcony yelling “Don’t you tell them, Carlos. No, no, no!” Yeah, I know. My brain is a little warped. But there you go.

This is the outside seating area.

Anyway, I went to C&O again this past weekend with some friends, and enjoyed myself immensely. There are 3 things I absolutely LOVE about this restaurant (and they are the reasons I keep going back):

1. The Garlic Knots

These mouthwateringly delicious knot-shaped garlic rolls are free to all customers. There is a large plate in the middle of each table in the restaurant, and the waiters just keep coming around and refilling it with knots every 10 minutes. They even walk around outside the restaurant with a plate of knots and serve them to the guests who are waiting for a table. I usually have a very hard time not filling up on these bad boys before my actual meal arrives. Which brings me to my next reason…….

2. The HUGE Entrees

The entrees at C&O come in two sizes – Half and Gargantuan (no, I am not making this up). A half order can quite easily feed two people. Ergo, after gorging myself on garlic knots, I know there is absolutely NO way I am going to be able to finish my dinner – so, yay! Leftovers for tomorrow! Not quite as good the second day, but still totally palatable.

3. (And this is probably my favorite thing about C&O) The Singing

Every hour-and-a-half or so on Friday and Saturday nights, the waiters run around the restaurant and pass out lyrics to the song “That’s Amore” to all the tables. Then, the song’s music starts playing over the restaurant’s speakers…..and the fun begins! Everybody in the restaurant, both guests and employees, starts to sing along to the music. The waiters then start weaving their way through the tables, clinking glasses with the guests as they do, and exclaiming “Salute!”

Now, I have no business singing anywhere in public, but this is one instance where I will make an exception. I can belt out the song at the top of my lungs and not bother anyone, because all the other guests are singing too, and no one can hear my off-key nonsense! I also insist on making everybody at my table sway in time to the music. A little childish, yes…but it makes the experience so much more entertaining!

Here are a couple of pictures of some of the group and I holding our lyrics sheets, right before the singing started.

Seriously, I love this place. And you would, too!!

It's Alive!!

2009-02-05T19:20:00.000-08:00

Yeah, so remember the vacuum I mentioned in a previous post that I got for my birthday? Well, I used it for the first time today and got the shock of my life. I vacuumed my bedroom – just one SMALL room – and emptied the canister to find this:

A dust ball the size of a large rodent. Uugghhhh!! Eeewwwwwww!! Vomit!!

After I picked myself up off the floor, I got to thinking. All this, from vacuuming just one room!! Now, I am not the cleanest person in the world, but I am also by no means a slob. It absolutely floors me to think that I have been living and sleeping in the same room with such a large amount of filth, and I now fear for what else might be hiding out down there. Can you sterilize carpet?

I can feel things crawling on me. Really, I can.

On the upside, my new vacuum is one awesome sucking machine!!

I Don't Do Diet

2009-01-28T17:20:00.000-08:00

I love lemon cake. Love it. Especially the one that they sell at Starbucks. There is just something about the mixture of tangy and sweet and moist that sends my taste buds a-whirlin’.

Today at work, one of the pharmaceutical reps brought a whole spread of breakfast food for the staff/surgeons in an effort to bribe them to use their product (a fairly common occurrence when you work in a hospital). There were bagels and cream cheese, donuts, fruit and yogurt parfaits, pastries……..and lemon cake!!

Once spotted, I made a beeline to the tasty goodness, and promptly (and quite piggishly) piled three slices onto my plate. Feeling exhilarated, I sat down to consume the spoils of my gluttony. I took a bite, began to chew, and then….wha….what…what is this? What in hell’s bells did I just put into my mouth? It looked like lemon cake. It smelled like lemon cake. It even had the proper consistency. And yet, this was NO lemon cake. No sir. What I had just put into my mouth was so nasty, I was sure that that was what evil had to taste like.

I spat out the revolting intruder, and walked over to examine the container from whence it came. It was lemon cake alright – sugar-free lemon cake, made with Splenda.

Are you kidding me?

Who? Who would do that? Who would dare to take perfectly good lemon cake, something so pure and delectable, and corrupt it with, of all things, Splenda? What a waste!! Am I the only one here who sees something wrong with this picture?

Needless to say, I did not finish the rest of my wanna-be lemon cake. In fact, I had to eat a blueberry muffin just to get the bitter taste out of my mouth. It still makes me gag just thinking about it.

There are very few (in fact, almost zero) low-fat/low-calorie/sugar-free foods in life that I have found actually taste good enough to make them worth sacrificing the extra calories. And lemon cake is definitely not one of them. Perish the thought.

All I have to say is, if I ever happen to encounter the inventor of Splenda in a dark alleyway, he had better be watching his back.

The Big 3-0

2009-01-17T18:15:00.000-08:00

It’s official. I. Am. Old.

That’s right – on December 22, 2008, I turned 30. Thirty. Thurrrr-teeee. Wow, still seems weird. I mean, I entered an entirely different decade, people. I thought that it would be a difficult day – you know, that I would feel all depressed and melodramatic, and suddenly start spouting “well, when I was a kid…” stories. However, 30 doesn’t really feel any different. In fact, it’s pretty great so far!!

After all, they say that you are only as old as you act. And, if that’s the case, then I should be hitting puberty any day now.

Anyway, because my birthday is so close to Christmas, I was fortunate enough to be at home in San Diego with my family for the blessed occasion. We played and shopped all day, went out for a yummy celebratory dinner (sans the annoying singers, thank you very much!), and then opened presents. And, I got some pretty spectacular ones!

My awesome parents gave me something that I desperately needed – a vacuum cleaner. My old vacuum was literally on its last leg. I inherited it from my old roommate who just got married, who inherited it from her old roommate who got married 5 years ago…..needless to say, it is an antique, and was starting to emit a very foul burning odor whenever it was used. Anyway, my parents very generously bought me a Hoover Bagless Windtunnel Vacuum.

Did you catch the “bagless” part of the description – as in, I never have to buy or change vacuum bags EVER with this sly piece of machinery. And, that’s just one of its many useful amenities. Thanks Mum and Dad!!

My beautiful sister, Blythe, gave me a truly wonderful gift. A gift that, I believe, no self-respecting woman should be without. What is this amazing gift of which I speak? That’s right, you guessed it – she got me “Sex and the City – The Complete Series.”

That’s right, all 6 seasons in one bright pink package (one of my favorite parts about this gift, by the way).

I know that there are plenty of you out there who would disagree with me, but I think that “Sex and the City” is one of the best television shows ever written. I love the characters, the dialogue, the cheeky humor. As a sassy single gal, I can soooo relate to many of the situations they address on the show (don’t worry, I don’t mean any of the ones involving sex, for heavens sake!) It is my personal opinion that any given situation in a woman’s life can relate back to a “Sex and the City” episode or moment (well, or a “Friends” episode, too) – so I find myself quoting the show all the time. “It looked like a sharpei!”

I have already watched all of the DVDs once, and will undoubtedly make it through them all again before too long. Thanks Blythe!!

Aren't I a lucky girl?

Go Ahead, Be Jealous

2009-01-17T17:28:00.000-08:00

Today’s date is January 17th, 2009. We are still in the season of Winter. And yet, it is 80 degrees outside…..and has been all week long!! While most of the rest of the country is freezing their buns off in sub-zero temperatures, So Cal is having a virtual heat wave. I mean, people are actually sunbathing at the beach!!

I know some people hate this strange weather pattern – that they really want a defined change of seasons, with a noticeable temperature change as well. However, I say forget that!! I absolutely love this weather, and would take it 365 days a year if I could get it!!

And that is EXACTLY why I will never leave southern California.

(Oh no, now I’ve gone and jinxed myself. You watch, now I’ll end up marrying somebody who gets some amazing job offer in Alaska or Wisconsin or Antarctica or something. Crap.)

About Friggin' Time!

2009-01-06T19:41:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine posted this video on her blog the other day, and it totally cracked me up. I mean, I sooooooooo sympathize with the poor guy, especially as I grow closer to “graduating” from my Singles Ward. If you don’t know what “graduating” from a Singles Ward is, I congratulate you, because this means that you managed to find your eternal companion and escape to happy marriage-dom before being deemed too old to interact with other single people, and then banished to a family ward – forgotten forever, left to wade in an endless sea of Cheerios and to endure looks of pity from happy married couples everywhere. In other words, turning 31. But I digress…..

Anyway, I thought that this video was totally clever, and so of course, being a girl of the single and Mormon persuasion, I had to share it.

By the way, if you are not Mormon, or have never been a member of a Singles Ward before, you probably won’t get it.

All I have to say is, "Amen!"

Travesty

2008-12-16T19:34:00.000-08:00

It is a sad, sad day in the television world. I recently found out that "Pushing Daisies," which is probably just about my favorite TV show ever, has been cancelled. Woe is me!!!

Seriously, it absolutely amazes me that ridiculous, plotless, trashy shows like "Wife Swap" and "Deal or No Deal" remain on the air, while intelligent, witty, and innovative shows like "Pushing Daisies" get sent to cable TV heaven. I guess it is just an indicator of the current mental capacity of our society. And the world wonders why America doesn’t seem any smarter than a fifth grader. Boo!

For those of you that have never watched this show before, I would highly recommend it (well, at least watching the re-runs). The writing is smart and funny (I laugh out loud a lot!), the characters are likeable and well-developed, and the storyline is totally unique. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before – imaginative, kind of like a cross between a fairy tale and a Tim Burton movie. And it even has a little romance thrown in there, too. Plus, I am totally in love with Lee Pace, the actor who plays one of the main characters, Ned (who is unabashedly adorable) - so that doesn't hurt either!!

Mmmmmmmm. Yummy!

I am truly disappointed in ABC, and may even consider an action to boycott them in the future. Well, honestly, I don't think that will actually ever happen. Why must I be so addicted to TV? Damn the inventors of TiVo!! Anyway, I at least plan on writing a strongly worded letter of complaint to ABC, and if you care about "Pushing Daisies" in any way, you should too!! Let's save the Pie Hole, people!!

P.S. Below is a cute scene from a recent episode where Kristin Chenoweth (the original Glinda from Broadway’s Wicked, thank you very much!) breaks into song, belting out the Bangles’ “Eternal Flame.” Totally silly and random, but I love it!!

Insane in the Mem-Brain......

2008-11-16T19:14:00.000-08:00

So, you know that mood you get in when it’s, like, 3:00 in the morning, and you are totally loopy? You know – all of your inhibitions are down, and everything is REEEALLLLLY funny? Well, that happened the other day at work (except that it was only 9:00 in the morning)…..and, well…..unfortunately the results of that mood were captured on film.

What can I say? It was Friday, we were tired and burned out, there were props available, and a camera was close by. You would have done the same, and you know it!

Makes you want to run out and have surgery tomorrow, now, doesn’t it? On the upside, I really do LOVE my job!

Wedding Bells are Ringing.....

2008-10-01T20:41:00.000-07:00

So, my beautiful roommate, Ms. Jamie Lynn Pope, is engaged. Dammit.

Er, I mean….congratulations!! Seriously, though, I am truly happy for her. After all, that is why we are here, right? To find our adorable hubbies, to make even more adorable babies, and become the “forever families” that we sing about in church. I just always thought that this is something that Jamie and I would do together – you know, we would meet our future husbands at the same time, get engaged at the same time, and then, of course, get married on the same day in the same temple. I mean, is that too much to ask? Apparently so, because as of November 1st, Jamie will no longer be checking the “single” box on her tax return.

Mr. Jeff Tingey not only captured Jamie’s heart, but he also managed to convince her to move to Portland after they’re married. Oregon! Really? That’s, like, two whole states away. How in the world are we supposed to watch “Gossip Girl” together with that type of distance between us? If it weren’t for the fact that they are so well suited for one another (they are both very tall and both have a strange obsession for all things Excel), I might have put up more of a fight.

Jamie and I have lived together for a little over 5 years now, and I feel like I am losing not only a great roommate, but a truly wonderful friend as well. However, I know that she and Jeff are going to be so happy together, and I wish her nothing but luck as she embarks on this next great life adventure. Really. Dammit.

It's Official....

2008-10-01T20:05:00.000-07:00

....I have jumped onto the blogging bandwagon! I know, I know – I am so behind the times; but better late than never, right? Anyway, who knows how often I will actually post on this thing, or whether the posts will be interesting to anyone else besides myself, but here goes. Enjoy!

My blog!

2008-08-10T20:58:00.000-07:00

Let's see if I ever post anything on here...