Whip It

I don’t normally endorse companies or businesses without them paying me, but I have a few things that I have to say.  First I have to paint the picture so close your eyes and imagine… well, don’t close your eyes while you are reading, but read it, then close your eyes and imagine it. You are in California in the summer, it’s crazy hot and you’ve spent most of the day so far waiting in lines interspersed with glimpses of joy and excitement. Your feet are tired, your eyes are tired and you are pretty sure the sun-block you put on 20 minutes ago wore off 24 minutes ago – leaving you a lovely shade of burgundy. It is at this point you decide a little break is needed.
You purchase a delicious, cool Pineapple Dole Whip and sit in a cool air-conditioned room listening to strange mechanical and magical birds from days past sing to you. It is just the refreshment for your body and mind that you desperately needed. That’s a good memory.
Well, I discovered by accident a while back that Farr’s downtown sells the very same Dole whips that I would normally only be able to buy at Disneyland before walking into the Tiki room. I have the chance to re-live a cherished family memory/tradition every day of my life. This would result in a giant amount of calories, and therefore a giant me, so what a predicament I am in. How do I resist? It’s all about establishing rules and living by rules.
1) I am only allowed to go to Farr’s for Dole Whip if I bring someone who has never before tasted it or a member of my own blood-related family.
2) In the event that I am having a bad week, someone who has never tasted kumquat may substitute for someone who has never tasted Dole Whip.
3) In the event that I am having a bad day a member of a blood-related family may substitute for a member of my blood-related family.
4) In the event that I have an overpowering hankering for pineapple deliciousness, a ketchup packet may substitute for either.

I have actually stuck to my guns with these rules. So far it has worked out really well for my taste buds. That’s my secret of self-control, make rules and follow the rules.

Manly sweat, but no men in sight

I know females are supposed to "glisten" when they exercise or something like that, but I start sweating by jumping-jack number four. After I’ve finished at the gym, drenched in sweat and tired, I sit down to stretch. I can’t help but think that while I’ve never been in a Viking ship (it’s on my list of things to think about doing before I die), my general odor is reminiscent of 48 sweaty men rowing at the oars in the bowels of a ship – sweat pouring from their faces, all cramped together in the tight quarters of the underbelly, the stench heavy in the air with nowhere else to go. That's me after a real workout. The question is, if the results are so disgusting, why do I keep going? I have no answer, I just like it. I guess I'm weird that way.

dirty amble

I recently completed my second mud run of the year. Here are some things I learned: 

1) College students don’t need a crazy race to dress up in costumes, but it doesn’t hurt

2) If you are thinking the emphasis is on the “racing” in a mud race then you are mistaken

3) If you are thinking the emphasis is on the “obstacles” in a mud race then you are slightly mistaken

4) If you are thinking the emphasis is on spending a day in the hills wallowing in filth and watching/laughing at other people falling all over the place just prior to or after you fall all over the place then you are pretty right on the button

5) Pigs don’t like mud nearly as much as humans

6) After running 6 miles through swamp and muck, root systems and hay bales, getting bruised and scratched and tired – paying a few dollars to rinse off with warm water instead of using a hose attached to freshly melted snow, or possibly liquid nitrogen, is totally worth it.

  

7) Most importantly - sleeping feels so great once you are clean and well fed once again.

The body part debate

I am recovering from a cold and my nose is getting more and more sore from blowing it. The other night I came home to find a note from my nose which had been placed on my pillow.

             “I am pleading with you to stop blowing so often. I am all scratched up and tired and the mere sight of white Kleenex makes me want to punch someone. There has to be a different body part that you are mad at and want to put through such an ordeal so that I can get a rest.
                                                                                      Sincerely, Your Nose”

I pondered this note for a while and realized that really my sinuses should get more of the blame for the lingering illness. So I wrote a note to them to see about getting some relief, but without a response as of yet, not even an acknowledgment of having gotten the note, even though I’m POSITIVE they got it.

I don’t care how flatulent someone might be, I say the sinuses are the rudest part of the body.

Things I’ve learned in the last 7-8 months or so…

Lesson 1
Sometimes forgetting to turn your cell phone ringer to silent during a movie isn’t all that bad. A group of friends were gathered around to watch the Joseph Smith movie (great show). In the sad scene in which Joseph is locked up in Liberty Jail during bitterly cold winter months and is worried about the safety of his friends and family on the outside, just as he calls out to Heavenly Father, “O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth they hiding place?” a song burst out of one of the boys pockets. Journey’s classic “Don’t stop believin’” erupted in the room. He was frantically trying to grab his phone to turn the ringer off, but it was too late, we all joined in with our support, “don’t stop believing Joseph!” What perfect timing.

Lesson 2
Souvenirs should remain in your car while you vacuum it out on vacation. While it seems like a long time ago now, my mom and I went on vacation to Oregon and then drove down the coast to Sacramento California. It is a BEAUTIFUL drive and every now and then we stopped to walk around on a beach and enjoy the ocean air. My mom was a fan of the beautiful driftwood and found some great looking little pieces to bring back as souvenirs of our trip. I love nature and the driftwood was cool, but what stuff did I find on the beach to bring back?, a small fishing buoy that washed up on shore and a big fish hook. I guess man-made artifacts are just something I’m naturally drawn towards. Anyway, we were driving away from the beach and into the forest of the great redwoods, so we thought we should vacuum out the piles of sand that had accumulated from our feet. We cleared the car of all our luggage and stuff and decontaminated our rental-mobile. This worked out wonderfully, other than the fact that we realized about 50 miles later that we had forgotten to put our sack of souvenirs back in the trunk after the process was over. What to do?!?! Luckily driftwood is a plentiful commodity on the Oregon Coast. We stopped at one more beach lookout and my mom found a few pieces that she liked even better than the first ones. Sad news – I will never be able to replace my authentic fishing memorabilia, but I packed away plenty of clam chowder in my stomach as a replacement souvenir of my own.


Lesson 3
Irregardless doesn’t make much sense, but I can still use it. It makes so little sense that I have to look it up in the dictionary somewhat regularly to make sure it’s still a word. It might be nonstandard, but it is still there in the dictionary every time I look. I’m not sure why anyone would use it… just say regardless for crying out loud. (This is me talking to myself)

Lesson 4
Bacon makes everything better. Split pea soup was never served in my house growing up. This is probably because my mom and dad didn’t want to have to eat it any more than the kids. I can only imagine what happens around the table in homes where it is set in front of a seven year old with a piece of bread for lunch. Yuck. A little while ago my work decided to go to lunch at a place called “Kitchen Soup” and I wasn’t sure what to get. One of my coworkers said, “Oh, they have the best split pea!” I thought this phrase seemed like an oxymoron, is it possible to make split pea soup that tastes good? My mind was incapable of processing this information, especially since I didn’t have any experience eating it. So, of course, I had to get it. Turns out my coworker was right. It was heavenly! It tasted like bean and bacon soup. Maybe the key to making split pea taste good resides in the important flavor of bacon, what doesn’t taste good with a little bit of bacon flavor? It was an eye opening experience.