For Megan

Over a month.

That is how long it has been since I blogged.

Honestly, I didn't think that it mattered much.

But then my fans....well, ok...Fan (singular...not plural) summoned me.

So, here I is.

Events that have happened over the last month.

Grace turned 8.

How on earth do I have an 8 year old?? I still feel 22!

I dont look like I am 22, nor do I move like I am 22. However, I still feel 22.

Grace is turning into such a little adult. She always has been. We didn't raise her talking to her like a child. She never did "Fawdowngoboom" (Fall down and go boom).

But what comes with an 8 year old that is a mini adult is ATT-I-TUDE!!

My land, she is a sassy pants.

She is VERY independent. To the point where she is pretty sure she needs to tell me how to do things.

I sure love her and I dont know what I would do with out her.

I took a girls trip to Oregon.

Yep. Sure did.

My friends Jen and Lindsey said to me one day; "we want to go on a girls trip and we want you to plan it".

So I did. I think with in 6 hours, I told them that we are going to Oregon.

I have ALWAYS wanted to go to the Oregon Coast.

It was well worth the wait (and weight).

So then I thought, "Duh, Sara is on of my favorite-ist people. She needs to come"

My phone call to Sara: "Hey, come to Oregon with us."

Sara: "When?"

Me:" May 6-11"

Sara:"Coo...Just bought my ticket."

Im not kidding, it took that long.

So then there we are at May 6th.

We all get in the car, get to the airport and we are on our way.

We get into Portland and take the shuttle to go get our car.

So our first interaction with an "Oregonian" is with the car rental lady.

It took me about 5 seconds to determine that she purchases a very low grade of crack that is laced with bleach from some hooker in Mexico.

For those that aren't familiar with my humor.....SHES CRAZY!!!

But then she tells me that she is from Washington.....makes sense. :)

(I kid, I kid)

Now don't get me wrong, she is super nice. Just super weird as well.

She REALLY wanted us to get the red mustang or the black chrysler 300.

Listen lady, we aren't P.I.M.P.'s . We are 30 something year old moms with 8 kids between us.

(OK, OK, Jen is responsible for half)

We go with the HHR.

Nothing says "Cougar Prowl" like an HHR.

And there were 4 of us....all on the hunt.....:)

And again..I kid.

But seriously....don't you think that HHR's are driven by cougars or those of the male gender that remain in the closet? (not that there is anything wrong with that)

Annnyyyywwwaaaaayyyyyyy........

We get our car and we are heading out of the parking lot. The attendant takes our "anything wring with this car" sheet. We ask her if there is anything close to go eat...and I am not kidding...she starts going off about 5 different places and how her sister used to date one of the owners of one of the places and how he talked her into wearing red underwear with pink socks and how her friend goes to the other place all the time because she gets cooking tips from the cook.....THAT IS A MONKEY!!!

OK, that isn't true.

BUT she really was too nice to shut up.

Super nice...wanted to answer our question....and would not shut up.

It took about 8 minutes for us to get out of there.

FINALLY we are on our way.

The car was in Lindsey's name. But she wanted me to drive. But we promised the crack head rental car lady that only Lindsey would drive. So we pulled over in a parking lot and I got in the drivers seat.

We were headed into Portland (via Washington with my mad navigating skills.. :) ) to go to Voodoo Donuts. They have the bacon-ater you know.

A maple bar with bacon on it. No lie. And guess what....it is GOOD! And that isn't a lie either.

We get there and we each order like 3 different donuts. I ordered a banana fritter that was as big as my head.

We HAVE to try them all!!

And we do.

And 10 minutes after we leave.....Sara is barfing....

But that didn't slow anything down.

We still had about a 2.5 hour trip to Florence.

It was a great road trip.

Then we get to Florence. We are staying at The Blue Heron Inn.

They boast homey, warm rooms and a gourmet breakfast.

See here, breakfast:

We stayed in a 2 bedroom..room. Well, really, it was a room with a hobbit room attached.

See here: Hobbit Room-

This was the room that Jen and I stayed in. I actually really liked it.

The other part of the room was an actual room with a king sized bed that Lins and Sara slept in.

So we get to our place of rest and we meet the host.

Maurice.

He was a cute, sweet, kinda creepy guy that was about 65 or so.

I have never seen a skinner 65 year old.

He was super nice and super informative.

He came to be VERY fond of us.

Especially Sara.....trouble in a small blonde package...as he would put it.

We have a picture of us with Maurice, but Sara has it.

I am waiting to get those pictures.

I am going to stop writing for now.

I don't want it to be so long that it is boring.

But know this: In the next post there will be.......

High class eating

Riding with Charlie

NAKED AS A JAY BIRD

I hope to have more pictures then.

I bet you cant wait.

-Paranoia in a large cheetah colored package......

Hey, Finished IS finished!!

So, I really enjoyed my weekend.

It started out rough, but ended up pretty dang perfect.

Thursday night:

i forget that i am a mom and that i am responsible for a 7 year old daughter and her dietary needs. We do believe that Grace is lactose intolerant. So, we have been staying away from the cows milk as much as we can.

She was at tumbling, and I was running errands.

I stopped by Smith's and remembered how turned on I get when I pass their Olive bar.

It would be rude of me not to stop by and say hi.

I mean, we do have a pretty intense and intimate history.

So, I said hi.

And then I got some of the caprese salad that they have there.

I head over to get Grace.

We get in the car and she sees that I have the caprese salad.

She LOVES the mozzarella balls. She asked if she could have some, I said yes...and she starts chowing.

About 8 small mozzarella balls later I remember......LACTOSE INTOLERANT!!

HELLO??

Grace, stop eating that.

Well, unfortunately, Grace had to pay for my brain fart.

Later that night....stomach in knots. She couldn't eat anything else.

She went to bed with a very hurty tummy.

Then, she woke up at 430, told me she doesn't feel well, sat Marty Monkey style on my floor, and puked.

Then again.

Then again.

Tye piped up with some very comforting words.....

"Pull her hair back......."

You cant buy advice like that.

I clean up the mess, get her in new clothes, get her back to bed and asleep.

The next morning, she was in no shape at all to go to school.

This is not from Lactose intolerant.

This is the stomach flu.

So I stayed home from work with her.

I had to leave later that night to get to my sister Kristins house.

See, a while back....back when we were obviously less...um, smart...we decided to sign up for the SLC Marathon Bike tour.

Now, 26 miles on a bike....really, not too hard. HOWEVER, when you have to wake up at 4 in the morning to be at the starting line at 530.......it doesn't matter if you are doing it so you can pet puppies and eat crispy cremes, that time of day makes ANYTHING hard.

On my way down to her house, I called Kristin and told her that if it windy in the morning, I AM OUT! I dont have to be a hero. Hell, I dont have to be a mediocre slob.

IM NOT BIKING IN THE WIND!

I swear, I am trying to think of something that I hate as equally as I hate riding against the wind.

I got nuthin.

So, to bed we go at midnight.

And at 1 I get a text from Tye.

Grace's fever has spiked to 103.5

he is threatening her to eat something so that he can give her some motrin.

It worked, cuz they didnt end up at the hospital.

I have never ever experienced 4 am taking forever to come around.

And this was no different.

It sneaks up on you like a little spider, and gives me the same knee jerk reaction.....KILL KILL KILL!!!

But I handled it well.

My friends brother in law was going to ride it with "us".

We call him Herb.

Who is "us" you might ask?

Well, "us" consisted of Me, my sister Kristin, friend Nicky, friend Joni, friend Nancy, and then Herb.

Well, Herb texts me at 430.

"Hey, do you think helmets are required? Will they be selling them there? I forgot mine"

Uh....we arent going to some stinky ass bowling alley where half the income comes from banking on selling socks to morons that forgot that they have to wear some 20 year old nasty, been worn by at least 200 other athletes foot, wart sportin, skin peeling, stinky feet people.....

My test: "yes, helmets required. No, they will not be selling them....."

As we pull out of Kristins neighborhood I tell her what he text and say "Who forgets their helmet..??"

She pauses...

"Wait, wheres mine....?"

yeah, on her table.

She forgets her helmet.

Then I get a call from Joni asking where i am.

She had to head back to her house cuz she too forgot her helmet.....AND her clip on shoes....

Anyway...we get there, we get ready.

We ride to the starting line....WOW, LOTS OF PEOPLE!

So, I decided that we weren't going to start at the back of the line, we were just going to mix in with the others at the front of the line.

Ready

Set

Go!

And we are off.

I brought up the rear...

Im telling you. It was a good thing that we did indeed butt in line in the front.

I would have been DEAD LAST.

Nicky stayed with me the whole time.

Now, dont get me wrong. It isnt like I dont bike.

It isnt like I have no stamina.

I just wasnt as fast as....well, most of them.

But hey, we averaged 17 miles per hour.

We ended in an hour 30.

I am proud.

It felt GREAT!!!

It was such an awesome morning!

After we got to the finish line, we met up with everyone.

We needed to ride trax back up to the U.

Joni and Nancy left. So it was just us four.

As we were waiting for Trax, Herb (who finished first with Kristin out of the 6 of us) asks me (very matter of fact, with no judgment of me or anyone else)

"So did the racers that are handicap pass you?"

NOTE***about 20 minutes after us, they had the cyclists that peddle with their hands rather than their feet, start their race. And they were indeed racing each other....we were not. We were just racing time.

That is who he was talking about. And let me preface this with this....I admire and respect anyone who doesnt let any disability get in their way***END OF NOTE

I look at him, and say...

"So are you asking me if those who started 20 minutes after us that cycle with their hands because they cant with their legs....passed me????"

He looks at me with a blank stare.....

"yes, yes they did..." I say.

But, I was not racing them.

True, if I was racing something, it better have been a lawn gnome. Because there isnt anything or anyone else that I could beat.

However, I was so proud of myself that I wore the medal, that they gave all the finishers, ALL DAY LONG.

I head home, thinking about the nap that I am going to have before Anna and Brian come over.

I get home. And I am welcomed by reality.

Reality that my husband wants to put me to work in the yard.

So, I tell him that I will work in the yard, and then I AM TAKING A NAP!

I work

He works

We both work.

And then I got to meet "My Wall".

The tired wall.

I was trying to pull up some grass with some whoppidy do da tool, and I snapped!

I threw it across the lawn and yelled "I AM DONE!!"

Tye comes over, he shows me how to do pull this grass up.

I tell him "I KNOW HOW TO DO THIS! I DONT WANT TO!!I AM DONE!!!!"

He says "Hey, Im tired too. Grace was sick last night. I didnt get much sleep."

I said- "I went to bed at midnight. Woke up, then asleep, then woke up at 4!!"

He said- "Thats about how much sleep I got too"

Me- "DID YOU RIDE 26 MILES RIGHT AFTER????"

NO!

I win.

I got a hiccup of a nap.

Time to go to the store.

Then Anna and Brian came over with the girls.

I love them.

I love them so freaking much!!

I loved having them at my house.

We had a big ole sleep over.

Then the next day the rest of my siblings came over for brunch.

It was great!!!

The weather was BEAUTIFUL!

Great company, great food, lots of love and fun.

AND, I got a medal.

Not sure how to beat it.

Alisa

Perspective

I think we could all use it.

Not just some of the time, but prally most of the time.

Ok, Ok...I will speak for myself.

I could use it most of the time.

I really do feel that I am conscious most of my waking hours.

By conscious, I mean, doing things on purpose. Not on auto pilot. Remembering other people. Being aware at how my actions may effect others. What others may be working through right now.

Ya know...conscious.

Today I lost my perspective for a moment.

Today is my sweethearts birthday.

My husband Tyler.

He is 34.

We have been married for almost 12 years.

I choose him again and again everyday.

So, he went hunting today. He's gonna shoot us a turkey.

He had to stop by my work to get some stuff out of my car to complete his hunting expedition.

He came in, grabbed my keys and headed outside to my car.

I followed him.

Talked to his two buddies that were going with him.

Hugged him, kissed him and sent him on his way.

About two hours later he calls me...

Me: "Hey"

Tye: BIG SIGH...."hhhheeeeeeyyyyyy"

Me: "Uh Oh, that doesn't sound good...whats up?"

Tye: "no, it isn't good. We stopped in Gunnison to get some stuff and......"

Me: "What? And...WHAT?"

Tye: "I have your Jeep keys in my pocket...."

Me: "WHAT? SON OF A......"

Tye: "I know, I KNOW....I feel terrible. But we can figure this out. You can call the dealership. they can cut a new key from your VIN number....."

Me: SIGGGGHHHHHHHH "I'll call you back. I'm going to call them and see what they can do"

Oh yeah....Gunnison is easily 100 miles south of where I am.

End result of calling the dealership...

Yes, they can make me a new key from my VIN.

BUT

They have to have the vehicle in order to program the key TO the vehicle.

The dealership is literally .25 miles from my work (Where my jeep is)

So, It has to be towed to the dealership. But, the good news is that they DO in fact have a key that they can cut for me.

However, they close in an hour and half.

Call Tye.

Tell him the story and, oh yeah, get his Credit Card number. He's footin the bill for this.

Which, to his credit, he had already offered to and totally felt that it was reasonable.

So, call the towing company, give them the payment info.

**$50.00 to tow it .25 miles...**

Call the dealership, let them know that my Jeep is coming.

Ask sister in law and life saver, Sara .......

"Please take me to get my child and then to the dealership."

She's on it.

Then I grumble a little bit about Tye and his effup.

Then, realize that SL Trib and KSL both were going to run a follow up story about my sister and her husband Brian, who was tragically killed in June.

So, I find the story.

I read it.

Breathe.

Ya know, I remember every single day that Brian is gone.

I remember every single day, how tragically he was taken from us.

I remember every single day that Bella and Ava don't get to grow up with him.

I remember every single day that Bella never met him, while on this earth.

I remember every single day how it felt when my heart was breaking when I got the news that he was gone.

I remember every single day feeling the pain of this tremendous loss for my family and his, but mostly for my sister and my nieces.

And still...even though I remember these things every single day, on days like today, when it is brought back into the light and I read the story.......I still get the wind knocked out of me.

Totally.

So as I am sitting at my desk, reading the story in the tribune about the legal battle that seems to have now begun, I cried.

And then I was nudged.

I can feel it through my body....

"Alisa, get some perspective. You know that Anna would want nothing more, than to know that her husband has her Jeep keys, in his pocket....in Gunnison. But she doesn't get to have that. You do. Get some perspective. And KEEP it."

Speed dial Tye.

No answer, voicemail.

Tearfully I leave him a message that I am not mad. I am not even frustrated. Rather that I am SO grateful.

So grateful that HE has my keys in HIS pocket, as HE is in Gunnison.

Happy Birthday Sweet Husband of mine.

I couldn't love you more.

You are the perfect man for me.

And Brian, thanks for the perspective.

xoxo

Alisa

***There may or may not be words/phrases that may or may not be interpreted as "Strong Language" in this post. Avert your eyes if you are not interested in the MAY OR MAY NOT. And as always...I NEVER recommend reading my blog to the kiddos in place of a bed time story....***

How do you get THAT gig?


Seriously, I wanna know how one get these gigs.....Cuz I need to know where to send my resume.

1- Ever seen the website dickipedia.com?
Well I would LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE to be part of the team that comes up with these definitions.
Really, read it. Crass, and F.U.N.N.Y.!!

2- Who decides what to name a town, or settlement, or city?
Really. How does that work?
I have always wanted to name a town Thong, or Hair Plug..... Come on!! Why not?
I mean, my land! There's already:
Boar Tush, AL.
What about Manley Hot Springs, AK?
Or...Jot Em' Down Store, GA....NO LIE!
Big Beaver Lick, KY ?????

I mean, I get it. There are some towns/cities that were named what they were named, simply for Geographical purposes.
Like...Stump Town, MT
Or Dripping Springs, TX

But Sugar Tit, SC???
REALLY!! I WANT THIS JOB!!


3- Beer taster
Now, I haven't needed to look for a job for quite a few years (knock on wood)
But I KNOW that I never saw an add for BEER TASTER. Cuz I would have applied!!
Now, I don't LOVE beer. But I do appreciate it. Especially since my husband started brewing his own.
It is all very intriguing.

About a year ago, I REALLY wanted to get out of dodge, move to Missoula, MT and open up a bakery.
The premise of my bakery? What ever the hell I wanted.
From day to day. Always different.
The name of the bakery? : "Whatever I Want"
I envisioned it being the place where people came to eat Whatever I Wanted.
They would love it.
They would try things that they have never tried before.
It would be warm.
It would have odds and ends hanging from the ceiling and the walls.
It would be consistently inconsistent.
I would serve hot drinks like Cinnamon Hot cocoa to Hotty Totty's, and everything in between.
But more than coming in for the warm, welcoming ambiance, or the amazing baked goods....people would come just to talk to me.
Actually, what I want is to be the one that decides what is made everyday (mostly because, well, lets be honest...I dont bake very well) have someone else make it, and sit in a big ole comfy chair and a half in the corner of the bakery, and sit and talk to people.
They would come to me with their joys and sorrows.
They would want advice and an ear to bend.
They would poor their guts out, and they would allow that for me as well.
We would cry, laugh, sit in silence, talk about our fears, what we don't want to know, what we already knew, and how we could save the world....starting with our own.

Yeah....How do I get THAT gig?

xoxoxoxo
Alisa

My pet peeves:

Pet Peeve #1:

Conversation used only to talk. No purpose. No Value. It doesn't even fill in the silence. Just because I pass you in the hall or the isle of the grocery store or in the lobby of a common place we both visit, doesn't mean that every time our space intertwines, something...anything.... needs to be said.

Let me demonstrate:

Me walking down the hall of a....lets go with a church. (Hey, I am sure there are a few that would still allow me..)
Here comes someone I know.
I see them often.
It isn't any sort of occasion when I do see them. No need for conversation.
However, something is said to fill the 1 millisecond of silence that will occur as we pass each other...something pointless and stupid like:
"Hey, why you gotta make it snow?"

REALLY?
SERIOUSLY?
I am 33.
And you are...well, of adult age.
I am well aware that I am not the one that makes it snow....or makes it stop.
And considering the venue of which we have just crossed paths....you should know that too. I'm not interested in taking blame, or props from The Man Upstairs.

Pet Peeve #2:

Don't ask ME a question about something that you don't know the answer to, THEN question my answer!!!


Allow me to demonstrate:

Other person that is not me: "Hey Alisa, did you remember to lock the door?"
Me: "yes"
OPTINM: "ARE YOU SURE?"

OH. MY. LORD.

Thinking...thinking...Did I say "Hmmmm...I'm not sure if I locked the door..."?

NOPE

YES I AM SURE!!!
My response is equally parallel to my action.
I KNOW I LOCKED THE DOOR! THAT IS WHY I SAID "YES" WHEN YOU ASKED!!
Here, do this.... you should just ask me if I have ovulated, then when I tell you NO, question that too!

Pet Peeve #3

Call me
I answer
You say "Hang on" or "Hey, I gotta call you back"

No big rant here.
I just get annoyed at that.

Ok, I gotta stop.
I'm gonna stroke out.

Share with me your pet peeves so that I don't have to think that I am impatient, bitchy and irrational.

Off to find some aspirin...


A

Dear Someone

So, I have a couple of blogger friends that do posts called "Dear Someone".
I love them.
You know who you are.
So here is the deal......I am soooooooooo copying you.

Its the highest form of flattery....right?
Right.

So here is my first "Dear Someone"

Dear Ole Dear...ME...

Tell me, why is it when you are urged to do something, by none other than YOURSELF (you know, the still small voice...that when ignored, turns into Ms. Graham from my 2nd grade class at Westvale Elementary who used a ping pong paddle to whack on your desk when you were day dreaming, talking, or when she needed to get some anger out....where was I?)
Oh yeah....by none other than YOURSELF....WHY DO YOU IGNORE IT??
All that leads to is emotional and mental self mutilation.
You know EXACTLY what I am talking about.

Yesterday, when you were heading into Albertsons to get an avocado, do you remember the elderly couple coming out?
Do you remember watching the cute little old man, with a total of 10 hairs on his head, 100 liver spots on his body, and glasses that swallowed his face?

Do you remember seeing him pull the cart full of groceries with one hand and push his sweetheart, with her tightly curled silver hair, and sunglasses that looked like she just got her eyes dilated, in her wheelchair, with his other hand?

Yeah, that's right.....pushing his wife in her wheelchair with one hand, and pulling the cart behind him with his other hand.

Do you remember what you thought?

Of course you do.

Its been bugging you for the last 24 hours.
You thought "Oh, hey, I should take his cart for him"
Then for some reason that I have yet to figure out, the next thought was "Na, he's got it".

DID THIS LOOK EASY FOR HIM?
My land!!! Dudes 90...AT LEAST!
Your 33, and it would take some skills to do it yourself.

So....then, as you walk into the store, do you remember the conversation that we had with each other? (I bet you, the reader, may be wondering how many of "us" are in this pretty little head.....I wish I knew)

Me: "Dammit Alisa!! Why didnt you help them? You physically could feel yourself move over there, and it was harder to stop you...yet you stopped you....WHY?"
Me: "Hell Alisa....I DONT KNOW!!!"
Me: "Well my gosh! LISTEN TO ME NEXT TIME!! I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING!!"
Me: "Ok, Ok....I know, I just need to trust you."
Me: "Good.....you dumb ass"

**Reader...you may think that it stops here.
That I learned my lesson. (Believe me, this is not the first time I have had to learn this lesson) But, surely not to disappoint.....it doth not end-eth here..eth**

So...dear, dear, dumb ass me.....tell me this.
When you were leaving, do you remember seeing same said couple putting groceries in their car?
Do you remember thinking, "I really should go help him fold that wheelchair and put it in the trunk"?
Then, do you remember, as you were driving off in your car, looking in the rear view and watching him do it...and, Im not gonna lie, struggle a bit doing it?
Tell me, what did you do about that?
Oh yeah....you turned right on to 200 West, and drove to work.

Just remember. You didnt hurt that cute little old man.
You didnt hurt his wife.
They didnt battle with themselves about why the spry 30ish looking lady didnt help them.

Nope.

You did, however, hurt yourself.
You totally and completely betrayed yourself.

I am sure that we will have this talk again, about something else.
So I am not going to tell you not to betray yourself again.
However, I would like it to be fewer and further between.

Take care of you, and those around you.

Me.

K.... I swear... I totally had NO IDEA my daughter could do......
this