Get car window fixed.

Get car window fixed.

So, funny story. My car automatic windows have some sort of electrical short. Some do not work at all and some work semi-dependably. If only I knew someone who knew something about electrical who could fix that---but I digress. The driver's side window works but only if you press on the lower left corner at a 45-degree angle. Not ideal, but crucial to have some functionality for drive-thru service. There is nothing more embarassing than having to open your door at a fast food drive-thru. I know this from experience.

OK I promised a funny story and I realize this is not yet funny. Read on.

So today I stopped at delicious sandwich shop for lunch (Kneaders has awesome focaccia bread and their turkey is super-delish). I paid for the sandwich at the first window. All was going well. I had two super-slow cars between me and the pick-up window and it was freezing outside so I rolled my window up to keep in some warmth, leaving about a half-inch space at the top--just enough so the cold air didn't get in but not all the way so I didn't feel like I was closing-out the teller next to me at the window. Weird, now that I think about it but whatever.

So the car ahead of me moves forward and I decide I should roll my window back down. Well, the window wasn't going down, and, as I mentioned before, I did not want to embarass myself by having to open my car door for the sandwich. So, one alternative method that has worked for me in the past is pushing down a little on the window while pushing the down button. That gives it a little jolt and then it usually complies. Well, not this time. (This is where the story, in hindsight, gets funny). I put my hand (specifically my fingers) through the space at the top and pushed the window down while pressing the down button. But instead of doing DOWN, the window went up. On my fingers. Crushing them.

There was a lot of pain here. And then terror because the button was NOT working at ALL and my fingers were already turning blue. Wow, if I thought opening the door for a sandwich was embarassing, having to scream for help from the teller for this would really be humiliation beyond compare. At one point I saw the teller looking at me. It was good to know I could cry to her for help (I had images of her chucking her till through my car window), but I kept a straight face the entire time. I think I even smiled. Her look was a mixed one of puzzlement and horror. After the longest minute of the day for sure, the window did come down. I non-chalantly took my hand inside and drove forward to pick up my sandwich like nothing had happened. Like I meant to do that.
I know you're all wondering, but yes, the sandwich was delicious. Oh, and the damage to my hand? Amazingly minimal and the pain surprisingly short-lived.
I really should give thanks here because this was all no-doubt an answer to my desperate prayer between the probably-inappropriate expletives in my head.
Just another day in my life. Oh, and I looked for a picture to go with the story but I quickly decided against it. Piece of advice? Don't ever google "missing fingers photos". Pretty disturbing stuff.

Cut out long runs during basketball season.

Cut out long runs during basketball season.

Our church basketball team this year was, um, AWESOME. (Since two of us are in the relief society presidency, we made sure to announce this fact in class every week along with our standard recruiting pitch).


(How could you look at this team and think we didn't know how to play a serious game of basketball?)

We ended up with a roster of over 20 women on our awesome team by the end of the year. Well, we THOUGHT we were awesome until we played our first post-season game at the region level and got killed.

But I choose not to remember that night (where the refs chastized us for not knowing the game of basketball-- PSHAW) so much as all the other Saturday mornings we slaughtered our opponents school-yard style. And we didn't get into that petty trash talk either-- we always kicked their trash with a smile. We were also the (self-proclaimed) nicest team to play. And prettiest. Wait, did I say that? Well, we did have some cute blondes, I don't think anyone would really argue.

The only problem with the season for me was I was also picking up my mileage for a running event I am training for this summer, and between games in the morning and long runs at night, I wound up hobbling around every Sunday morning. I thought my body was falling apart for good, but (knock on wood) since our basketball season prematurely ended (I think the team we played was stacked), I have been having minimal problems the knees, quads, hamstrings, hip flexor, shins, achilles etc etc. (yeah I was a mess). So next year, I will just not train for anything else until basketball season is over. Problem solved.

This is very good news for all that basketball career is no longer in jeopardy. That's right, my church basketball career. The big time. Take that high school basketball coach who politely told me mid-season I should "concentrate on track because you're good at that."

See Blue Man Group.

See Blue Man Group.

Jake and I have always wanted to see blue man group perform and when I found out they were going to be at the local Fourth of July celebration with none other than Miley Cyrus (aka Hannah Montana), I thought it a great summer holiday outing/birthday present for my 5-year old daughter--not to mention tickets were a third of the cost it is to see BMG in Vegas.

Tickets, it seems, were impossible to get. The 58,000 seats sold out in ten minutes. Three quarters of the people who waited in the wee hours of the day before tickets went on sale for wristbands did not get tickets. But lucky me (seriously when it comes to concerts I am really lucky. I have gone to many a concert in my teenage years on a free ride from a radio contest), on a last-minute whim, I had no problems at all buying four of them online. So it's either four tickets with great seats for our family, or selling them on ebay and using the money to fund a Disneyland vacation. Sweet, sweet deal either way.

Yay for teeny bopper Disney artists if we don't go and yay for blue man group and the biggest July 4th fireworks show in the country if we do!

Celebrate my birthday.

(Thanks Jen for the card from this site. They all cracked me up.)

Celebrate my birthday.

I entered the final year of my 20's this week and decided to send my youth out in style. I never thought 30 would scare me until over the last month I found a gray hair, injured my hip playing basketball, AND got the comment more than once, "You're only 28??!!" I would lie to myself and say it was my profound wisdom and maturity that prompts this comment, but well, read on...

I began the week with what appeared to be an innocent day of meeting a friend and her kids at the roller skating rink. Yup, those still exist. These new-fangled roller skating rules allow not only skates and roller blades, but scooters, tricycles and big wheels to boot. Taylor went on her scooter and Chase on his big wheel. It was really, really cute. And also looked really, really fun.

Here are some pics of the kids:

Chase is oh-so-cool with his letterman's jacket and big wheel with his friend Easton.

A daring face-first slide for Taylor.



As you can see, this place also had a huge room filled with the most giant bounce houses and inflatable slides I've seen in my life. These also looked really, really fun. The kids should have a birthday party here sometime, I thought. Too bad their birthday is still a few months away.


Then a light bulb went off in my head.


MY birthday was only days away. A few last-minute phone calls and about 15 of us ages 25-35 were out there skating and bouncing the night away. Who needs alcohol to have a good time?


It's unfortunate I don't have photos of the adults-only night out. But you can imagine how awesome we looked on the skate floor and how incredibly athletic we looked racing through the inflatable obstacle course (that I beat Jake on, thank you, thank you). Thanks also to whoever dedicated the couples skate to me and Jake. HOW did you know "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye was our wedding song?


Just kidding it wasn't. But really, props to all who indulged my childish idea. Especially Jake, whose birthday was last week and I tried to convince everyone this party was for him also. And I also appreciate that no one pointed out the fact that I lamely threw myself a birthday party.


29 4-EVA!