Love & The Bachelorette

Katie got me into this season of "The Bachelorette." I watched every episode and thoroughly enjoyed all the drama, the cheesy one-liners, and especially the wussy weatherman.

I wish the dates weren't so outlandish, like being whisked away to a heart-shaped island or flying in a private helicopter over Icelandic volcanoes. Honestly. The way you get to know someone is by by seeing them in everyday situations. I realize this is coming from someone who fell in love with a boy while sitting on the top of the Arc de Triomphe and eating nutella crepes, but I have also loved cooking with that boy and scrubbing mold together off the nasty bathroom walls of our first apartment and going through the McDonald's drive-thru and watching him hold babies and having fun chats about nothing in the middle of the night.

I like Ali and think she is adorable. However, I am incredibly sad that she felt compelled to get so much plastic surgery after the season. Her bottom lip is suddenly enormous, her cheekbones are high and her jaw is much more pronounced, and her nose looks like Michael Jackson's. Why, why, why?

I am happy she chose Roberto, and I hope they last. Katie was annoyed that she didn't pick Chris, because she doesn't think Roberto is in it for the long haul and Ali will be unhappy eating empanadas for every meal. Oh my.

And can I just say how glad I am that she didn't choose this guy?'
Look at that shirt, and he's definitely wearing lip gloss. Woof.

Inferno

My senior year of high school, I read Dante's Inferno in my Literature class. One of the fun assignments we had to do during the unit was write a short essay detailing who we would put in hell and what punishment we would give them.

I can't remember who I put in hell, but I do recall my punishment: having a terribly bad sunburn all over their body, AND being in the worst stage of it, which is violently itchy and totally unbearable, AND not being able to scratch it at all. And the punishment is that they have this agonizing feeling 24/7. AND they are outdoors and the sun continues to mercilessly bear down on them as they bake alive in the heat.

Is there anything worse? I submit that there is not.

I do this to myself every summer. I think I am being really careful with the sunscreen, but then I do a crappy job or forget to reapply after getting wet. I am currently in the most painful stage of my sunburn, where scratching is the only relief and yet it makes it a thousand times worse. My chest is smoldering. My legs are seared. My shoulders are char-broiled.

I always tell myself that next time will be different. Well, this time I am serious. Next time I will wear SPF 200 on my idiot pasty skin. I will lather on three coats, just to be sure. And I will wear a sunhat and a caftan as well.
Ahhhh, sweet summer.

Facelift

Russ insisted that we change the blog. Drastically. I don't know why he cares, since it's MY blog, and he doesn't have any clue what I write on it. But he does have an eye for design, and I have to admit, it looks a lot cleaner.

What do you think?

Goods & Bads Of Our Summer

Good: I like teaching. Most of my classes are enjoyable. I get to teach a wide range of people: my youngest students are 4 years old and my oldest ones are in their 60s.

Bad: A classroom full of 10 and 11 year olds = my worst nightmare. HOW does the elementary school teacher handle all their fickleness and insecurity and restlessness? I will never know.


Good: I have Sundays and Mondays off, so I can teach our Primary class, take four-hour naps, have dinner and play games with my family, and take my little sister to the pool.

Bad: Russell works two jobs, and we never have the same days off. I work all day every Saturday, which means I miss out on all kinds of fun things. And Russ has had to work a lot of Sundays, so our Primary kids ask me if he has gone apostate.


Good: I drive on the freeway every day to get to one of my teaching sites, and the car is nice, air-conditioned, reliable, and it runs as smooth as a baby's bottom (Thank you again Lees).

Bad: Katy Perry's "California Gurls" comes on the radio every ten minutes. I absolutely hate it. It's just classless debauchery. I feel ill every time I hear it come on and that perv Snoop Dogg's slimy voice murmurs, "Greetings, loved ones." EW.


Good: My family is in Disneyland this week, so Russell and I are house sitting and puppy sitting. It's fun to have a whole house to ourselves. We've been doing a lot of grilling too.

Bad: Sammy chews on our feet at 5:15 in the morning.


Good: Russell's airport job means that he can bring me home Cinnabon several times a week.

Bad: I can't think of a single bad thing about that situation.

Look What Came In The Mail For Me

Oh No

I am in a state of utter panic.
I start teaching tomorrow. Three classes. Tomorrow morning, I will be staring at a room full of 4-year olds and their parents. I am mortified.
I have a million things to do and it feels like I have suddenly run out of time. My nerves are shot. I've been running around like a chicken without a head. I burst into tears when I opened the fridge and discovered we were out of milk this morning. Russ was all too glad to leave me in a frenzied heap this morning and scoot off to his cool new job at the airport.
I have to go to the store and buy paper and Scotch tape and crayons. I have to print assessment and attendance forms. I have to get a map to Salt Lake Community College so I don't get lost. I have to read through the lesson plans so I don't sound like a blubbering fool tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
A blessing will probably help. And a back rub. We'll see if Russ will comply.

June 3, 1995

Fifteen years ago today, I was baptized by my dad. It was a beautiful day and I still remember the wonderful feeling I had. These pictures are dated and hilarious, but precious to me all the same.