(Excluding obvious things like your birthday, the 4th of July, etc.)
My mom and I debate about whether March is better than February (I say March is better because it starts to warm up, she thinks it is the worst because it makes you think it’s going to warm up and then it snows and February is short).
A pay raise.
I start listening to Bob Marley when the weather gets warm.
My mom and three sisters make heart shaped sugar cookies at least once between February 7th and 14th.
We open the cabin on Memorial Day. (Happiest day of the year)
We close the cabin when the temperatures drop below freezing. (Saddest day of the year)
I get worse at golf.
The Jazz make it to the playoffs and then break my heart.
Facebook miraculously manages to get dumber.
I go on about half as many trips as I plan on.
The office gets less funny.
At some point I want to buy a convertible, usually a Jeep because it would be cheaper than an Audi.
More sequels come out.
I get talked into going country-swing dancing with some friends only to re-discover how much I hate it.
College football begins and improves the quality of my life.
Yesterday I got a response from Wrigley’s about my awesome recommendation for improving the packaging of Starburst Jellybeans. While my reason for writing them a letter was not entirely because I thought I might get something free in response, I was still very disappointed with what they sent me: no free jellybeans, no free puppy, not even an original letter—I got a form letter. With a fake signature. Do they honestly get so many questions/comments by mail that they can’t write a quick, original letter in response? I wish I were angry enough to boycott. Maybe I’ll just switch over to lifesaver jellybeans for a while.
I’ve been putting stuff on this blog for three or four months now and I’ve come to some conclusions about the experience.
1. It is fun. I like writing stuff down: telling stories, writing opinions, or saying whatever. I don’t know that I’m necessarily any good at it, but I enjoy it.
2. It is a nice creative outlet. Like playing the guitar or drawing, creative writing gets some of the creative juices flowing.
3. I’m not comfortable with the verb “to blog”. This may be because I still associate it with scrap booking, which is largely a woman’s world, I feel. Consequently, I prefer to think of it as writing stuff and putting it on the internet for people to read—with some pictures to help illustrate.
4. Comments are good. From friends, family, or random strangers, I like it when people tell me what they think. Comments make me want to write more.
5. It makes me see life as more of an adventure. I’m always looking for stories I can tell about things that happen to me. Even the unpleasant experiences usually make for good stories, even if I don’t get around to putting them up here. This is nice.
6. Because I keep a blog, I feel better about reading other people’s blogs. Whereas before it would have been kind of creepy, now I’m part of the community, so it’s cool. I like reading other people’s blogs because I get to see all sorts of writing about all sorts of stuff.
7. I’m glad I haven’t limited my blog to one topic. From what I’ve seen, some people have blogs dedicated to movie reviews, restaurants, cakes, or whatever. I like reading said blogs, but I’m glad that I don’t have any restrictions for my writing.
8. I hope it’s not boring. For some odd reason, I really don’t want to lose readers. I’m guessing that everyone who keeps a blog feels the same way.
9. I’ve discovered that I’m a few years behind the curve, as usual. Turns out blogging has been popular for a long time. Just like ankle socks and iPods, it took me a few years to come around.
10. The 2004 version of Word doesn’t have the word “blog” in its spell check. I’m with Microsoft (for once); I think we should come up with a new word for it.
I was born in Dallas, a long time ago. We moved to Salt Lake when I was one and, aside from layovers, I had never been back to my homeland until I went to Houston this last weekend to see my brother and his family. But Houston isn’t really Texas. It’s in Texas, but it’s not full of cowboy hats and steakhouses like I’ve always imagined Texas to be. I expected to at least hear some Texas accents and see some cowboy boots. All I saw was really nice neighborhoods and lots of traffic. Nobody said howdy or y’all. Nobody sang “the stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of Texas”. In short, there was a general lack of cowboyness. My brother reassured me that you didn’t have to drive far to find the Texas I was looking for, but it wouldn’t be in the city.
We didn’t have time to leave the city limits, but I did see a hint of the Texas of my dreams at the Houston Rodeo. On our way in, the people checking our tickets were wearing cowboy hats and said “all y’all,” which made me pretty excited. The livestock show was first, highlights include: the booth with $2,000 cowboy boots, the tractors, and the birthing center (you read it right, the birthing center). The first two need no explanation, but the third was new to me. It’s basically a bunch of pregnant animals (cows, sheep, and pigs) in cages labeled with due dates. I found it entertaining but probably only because we weren’t “lucky” enough to actually see a heifer give birth. Even though I am going to be a doctor someday, I feel like watching an animal having babies in this setting would be scarring—especially for a little kid (and there were kids everywhere).
The rodeo was the best I’ve ever seen. I especially loved the “mutton riding,” which is five-year-olds holding on for dear life to the back of running sheep. After the rodeo, Tim McGraw played. While I’m not much of a country lover, I was impressed with this guy. During the first few songs he walked around the whole dirt arena and shook hands with the entire front row. I didn’t know very many songs, but I knew “live like you were dying” (maybe the most overplayed country song of all time behind “standing outside the fire”) and that was enough for me.
Other highlights of the trip include:
- Moving my brother and sister-in-law to a new house for 14 hours on Saturday. - Running on a rainy Monday morning (you can run forever and never get tired in Houston). - The Chocolate Bar where they sell chocolate things you never even thought possible (see pictures below). - Hanging out with S, C, A, and R. - My niece saying, “I’m going down the elevator at Nordstrom’s” while we were playing. She is my brother’s daughter. - My nephew crashing his toy cars into everything. - Izze soda (how I never heard of this stuff before is beyond me).
So, although Houston isn’t really very Texasy, it is still a rad city to visit in the Spring (not so much in the Summer, I hear). And while you’re there all y’all might just run into some real old-fashioned Texans.
A small portion of what we moved.
The Chocolate Bar. That is chocolate covered CAP'N Crunch and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Just ignore that 'sugar free' sign--it's the only one in the entire store.
The Chocolate Bar--we need one of these in Salt Lake.
Med student by day, med student by night. Occasional blogger.
Things I don't understand: music or pictures that are new but that are made to sound/look old and dancing.
Things I understand: running and charcoal barbecues.