"The Sun Will Dry Our Bum's."

There has been some major flooding going on around the Provo river so me and Sir Matt decided to go pop some wheelies in the water and entertain the country folk, and if we're being honest here, is there really an age where a person doesn't enjoy splashing around in puddles?

Yeah that's what we decided too.

Best conversation of the night?

Me: "My butt is soaking wet"

Sir Matt: "Just stick your butt in the air while your riding."

Me: "YES. The sun will dry our bums!"

As we both stick our rears up

Sir Matt: "HEY SUN! DRY OUR BUMS!"

(Matt says there's been too much fanny talk on the 'ol blog this week so don't you dare say the word butt in the comment section, you know, that place below this post, don't you dare do it, not even if it would give me a good chuckle and pride in all of you awesome readers, not even if it allowed me to show Sir Matt the comment section with a smirk on my face , once again I repeat, don't do it.)

Don't Make Me Come Back There

Dress: Thrifted       Belt: Thrifted            Shoes: Thrifted

Apparently my Butt has been getting all social behind my back. I'd call that two faced but in this situation I think it's completely appropriate to call that two cheeked. I got a hint of the affairs that have been going on yesterday when I got this text from a friend.

"It was nice talking to your butt Sweet Canadian Mullet =P"

a) I'll explain the nick name some other time

b) That smiley face texty sign is way too ecstatic for the likes of me.

I contemplated the witty comments I could reply with (I mean when referring to butt dialing the witty comments are unending really) but instead I opted for a tasteful.

"My butt says SOOOORRRRRYYYY."

I began an immediate investigation. I mean, was this just one of the many liaisons  that my butt was having with my friends? I had to know. Has my butt been trying to steal all of my friends via phone calls? I was pretty sure it had. Were my friends all going to decide that I was not as cool as my cheeky other half? Probably.

The evidence confirmed it. My butt had been secretly dialing six other people that day.

This has not been the first time I had caught wind of this (man the stinky jokes are just killing me, are they killing you?).A month back my butt was dialing one friend in specific OVER and OVER and OVER again. I even had to go to the drastic measure of deleting that person from my phone book (Still love you Courtney) just because somehow my butt had decided that they needed to be called at least twice a day.

But this was just too much. Six people in ONE day?

So I did what any other person would do. I gave my butt a serious kick in the rear (it was hard but I did it, it was more of a jog and kick your butt situation, much less dramatic and effective than I thought)  and called the issue resolved. Occasionally during the day I'll threaten it with a " Don't make me come back there." but I'm pretty sure it learned it's lesson.

Do you butt dial at rapid rates like I do? Am I a terrible person? These are the things that haunt my mind.

I Have A Question

Do all these random bloggers really have the perfect life that they say they do?

I mean really. 

No harm meant here, but, I keep running into blogs where girls keep trying to convince others that all they eat is ice cream, jelly bellies and marshmallows all day...and still manage to weigh 100 lbs.

Don't even get me started about the girls that constantly gush over how perfect their husband is, how he surprises them every single day with little gifts and how he's just been dying to write a love letter on the blog to express his undying love to the blogging community (show me a husband that wants to write a blog and I will sprout wings and fly home).

All I can say is that it stinks....more like it WREAKS of  constructing a perfect world for everyone else to see.

So I want to be real.

Because I'm tired of this portrayal of perfection. It's NOT healthy and most of all it's not real.

So here's what's real for me:

1. Me and Matt are really in love with each other.....but we also really know how to piss each other off.

2. I like to indulge in desserts every once in a while....but I watch what I eat and work out in order to stay healthy.

3. Marriage is the most rewarding thing I've ever been a part of....but it can also be very challenging at times.

4. Me and Matt really love to have nights where we can shower each other with gifts, love and surprises....but it's a rare occasion and most nights we just cook dinner and spend our nights at home doing homework.

5. I wish I could say that I just live off of the fat of the land and spend my days dreaming of lollipops....but  I'm a full time student, a part time worker, a sister, a friend and most importantly a wife, so I'm hecka busy.

6. I love my life and I love it real, flaws, frustrations and learning included

That's what's real for me.

What's real for you?

Note to Jen: You're Old.

Dear Sister,

Sorry I'm late getting your birthday present to you, but I think it's pretty boss no? Oh and how old are you again?

Love,

Your Personal Artist

P.S. Thanks for making sure I didn't die last night after my run. I'm alive and well!!!!!

Crazy Loco!!!

Trousers: c/o Lulu's             Vest: F21                Blouse: Thrifted              Shoes: Thrifted

(So I wrote this last year, but after re-discovering it last night I realized you guys might get a kick out of it too.Enjoy!)

I was sitting there licking brownie batter off of my fingers when I realized a rather revealing and demoralizing truth. I would probably lick brownie batter off of anyone or anythings fingers. I like brownie batter that much. Then again maybe I just like doing out of the ordinary things that much. Bringing me to a dreadful story...

Me and my 4 sisters are well...CRAZY LOCO! If you get us together in a room we get this loud hispanic laugh going and we just can't control it. Needless to say we often talk about and do ridiculous things. Okay mostly I do ridiculous things while my sisters laugh at me. I would never have done any of these things if it weren't for my loud laughing and utterly insane sisters.

1. After discussing how large my tongue really is with my sister (it's like KISS on crack people) I talked about the many things I've licked with my utterly monstrosity of a tongue. My sister said and I quote," You've never licked the bottom of my left foot." To which I tackled her to the ground and immediately licked her dirt covered, nasty trash stepping on foot (Michelle has the dirtiest feet of all the sisters in the land). I immediately regretted this however because it tasted like a waste of my time.

2. Mooning my youngest (and most traumatized) sister at 5:55 on 5/05/2005. I don't want to talk about it.

3. Putting on a toddlers clown costume while my sisters chased me around the house wearing vampire capes and warewolf masks, only to end the entire fiasco with a rendition of a Moulin Rouge song sung in a very manly yet chipmunk like way.

4. Making Dance Fest 2005 music videos and encouraging my little (and most traumatized) sister to wear nothing but two flowers made of poster board. Don't deny it, we still have video footage.

5. Peeing my pants on the floor while begging my sister to stop making me laugh. Yet to my surprise she just kept dancing and telling me I was just like Molly our dog who pees on the carpet.

I think that's about enough traumatizing information you dear followers can handle for one day.

Thanks for the crazy and well.....crazy times my sisters.

Revival Files: Peachy Keen

Total Cost = $4

This thrift find is one of the only good things that came out of our Vegas trip. Well that and learning that apparently you can make decent money on the street  if you buy a hamster and then make people pay you to pet it. I mean hey if you can convince people that your hamster (that has the undeniable talent of standing, you know something my coffee table can do) is the crem de la crem then I guess you deserve a buck. You know what would have really been wonderful though, if we all paid a dollar and then the hamster started to rap and break it down like in this car commercial...and que my day dreams of dancing hamsters. I'll just be over here wishing that hamsters could actually do the hamster dance.

The Events That Progressed Don't Make Much Sense

Sir Matt always tells me that when I'm with my family a whole different side of me comes out....a crazy side. I do dumb things to get a laugh, I get more blunt, more annoying...more awesome what have you. Well my cousin Cheyanne (who I have called Cheynie Whiney since my mouth could utter the y syllable) came into town and so naturally we had to have a day full of adventure.

I present to you,

Sarah's How-To On How To Have a Random Yet Awesome Day

1. Have a progressive lunch (ever had one of those? Appetizer at one restaurant, main course at another and dessert at another.)

2. Make a cardinal rule that before any hungry cousins can eat they must take unattractive pictures with their food (this was the first time I have experienced extreme food pictures....I got cheese in my eyelashes and everything.)

3. Get distracted by puppies on the side of the road before you make it to dessert (hey, Matt may not let me have puppies now but he said NO SUCH THING about me befriending puppies on the side of the road)

4. Have a delicious dessert at the Sweet Tooth Fairy in Provo. I ask you this. Why am I so obsessed with mustaches? Who turns their sugar cookies into mustaches?? If you are one of the few...please be my friend.

5. Got to Nickelcade and ride the tiny merry go round, then win so many tickets that you can buy everyone MUSTACHES (my mustache obsession continues to worsen, help.me.)!

6. Make your husband wear a mustache too!

7. I do not plan to explain this, let your little imagination run wild and free.

8. I also cannot explain this. Once again, your free as a bird to think what you will.

9. Eat more desserts because those previous sweets just weren't enough!!!! (Cocoa Bean Cafe in Provo has rockin' cakes in cups, also sometimes known as cupcakes)

10. Bask in the glory of your awesome day.

Love you Cheynie Whiney

Will You Accept This Rose?

Jeans: Thrifted (F21)     Blouse: Thrifted (Kohl's)     Sweater: H&M    Shoes? Who needs em

I feel like all of the producers of ABC, NBC, Fox (you know the works) are just playing one big joke on all of us. They must be laughing their butts off saying, man we're getting millions of people to watch shows....ABOUT NOTHING!!! I keep seeing all of these previews for summer shows and know in my heart of hearts that they will be absolutely, hair pulling, browse on your computer so you don't have to REALLY watch the show boring.

Para exemple:

Wipeout- was cool for .2 seconds until I realized every episode is exactly the same (and que man flying across red bouncy balls and falling in the water)

America's Got Talent- Might be good if America actually did have talent. Instead I'm forced to watch episode after episodes of  grown men..sometimes named Alaska do a little head bob dance in high heels and bell bottoms. Please click on this link of him, I know you're interested.

But one show in particular has hoodwinked me. I thought it was interesting, watched it, and then realized i've been watching a show of EPIC NOTHINGNESS (produced very carefully of course to make it appear as if things are happening) What show is this you wonder?

non other than...The Bachelorette

Let me sum up this season real quick for ya.

Hi I'm Ashley the Bachelorette.
I don't like any of the boys on the show.
Except Bentley, I knew him for half a day on the show and then he left (...dot dot dot) and now I just CANNOT seem to get over him. I talk about him, think about him, Facebook stalk him, sit outside his window at night, spray my perfume on his pillow before he goes to bed you know the works.
Did I mention I don't like any boys on the show and that I just cannot get over the dream boat Bentley. Did I mention Bentley is a dream boat!!!????
Did I also mention that when I talk I add an extra valley girl aaayyyaa to the end of my words. I think it sounds cute. Do you think it's cute. Do you think Bentley's cute. Yeah me too.

And scene.

Yeah that's really it. THE WHOLE SEASON THUS FAR.

Talk to me girls, are any of you watching The Bachelorette? What do you think?

I TRI-ed

Me before the race all nervous and what not (once again sorry about it being sideways and all, I wish I had a computer elf)

 

I always watch those "I shouldn't be alive" shows where some miracle feat of strength occurs and someone gets crushed by a car/rock/large inanimate object and somehow a bystander is able to save them by lifting like thirty bajillion tons of weight all because of straight up gangster adrenaline. I never understood that. Honestly though, it just doesn't make sense, how can a little bit of adrenaline completely change someones strength like that. As far as I was concerned it was all fake, fake I tell you.

Let's back up just a second here. Before the triathalon I was nervous. Like can't stop fiddling with my hands and moving my feet, nervous. The kind of nervousness that causes terrible jokes to come flying out of my mouth at rapid rates, because lets face it, laughing about something terrifying is way more socially acceptable than bawling over something terrifying. So I joke. I went through all the jokes I had prepared, even though they were terrible. And then after that my nerves just turned into adrenaline, but not the super strength kind, the really crazy feeling, pit in the stomach kind. 

And then I stepped in the water. And it was cold, but not so cold that I couldn't smile for a picture and give a cheesy thumbs up.

And then the race started and I dove into that lake o' death. And my lungs felt like they were collapsing in my chest, like when you're sobbing really really hard and you just can't catch any air and it hurts to try and inhale (simile, are you with me?). Yeah, it felt like that. Times all the ice cubes and exploding lungs in the world. When that wave of shock waved over me, I COMPLETELY LOST IT.  Lost it to the point of, flailing my arms while simultaneously swallowing the entire lake. I kept trying to see in the murky water, trying to breath while my chest felt like a 600 lb man named Sven was jumping on it (simile, again, I know genius right). I kept thinking, "What have I done? I CAN'T DO THIS! I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust! Who does this crap for fun??"

And then I got SUPER STRENGTH! The adrenaline pulsed through my body in an instant and I became completely numb and my body took over and told my head to shut the freak up (I was still praying just about every instant of the swim still, but my body went on auto pilot while my crazy mind checked out, I kid you not) And before I knew it I was 1/4 of the way through, 1/2 way through, 3/4 through, ALL DONE. And I was up and running to the bike area.

As Erin later put it so eloquently, " That was the closest to death I've ever been." And she was SOOOO right. I mean I would have added a holy crap and a friggin' in that sentence, but still she was right on.

 

 So after I realized I was alive and that my limbs were oh so completely numb. I rode the heck out of my legs (them things are made for biking I tell you) and then ran the heck out of 'em. And then the race was over. 

And then ten minutes later I got feeling back in my frozen feet (dear feet I love you, please never leave me again).

And then me and Erin smiled for the camera like we had just had fun....even though the swim was the most tortured I've ever felt in my life.

And now I want to do it again. I KNOW, I know??? I'm crazy right? Yeah loco. But training hard and kicking my butt and working toward a goal and then accomplishing it was so fun. So call me crazy but yeah....I'd torture myself all over again.

And to answer yesterdays little question. I managed to be the coldest I've ever been, get my but kicked by an old lady, get second place (complete with cheesy plaque)  and  escape death all in one race. I'd say I got my money's worth right??

I'm Alive!

Dress: Thrifted     Skirt: Thrifted     Shirt: Ann Taylor Loft ($4!)      Shoes: Really old

Sorry guys, not much time to talk, me and my bestest cousin are partying tonight (our adventures so far might just include a night of mustaches and whoopie coushions, were about as mature as they come).

But, I fought a good fight and survived the triathalon. Lets play a guessing game as to how the race went. 

Was it... a) the closest to death I've ever been c) the coldest I've ever been f) the only time I ever got my butt whooped by an old lady y) got second place h) all of the above.

Revival Files: Dress Makeover

Total Cost = $5

It's been pretty hot and I have been LIVING in this white wondery breezy cloth of goodness. I've been pondering and I think there's a little old lady out their named Urna who knows me and shuffles her little shuffle from thrift store to thrift store just to leave dresses in my path because she knows I'll treasure and love her old dresses and make them brand new again. Well Urna, you freakin rock. Keep em comin'!

Did you guys read yesterdays comments from the x (men) tribute? If not go get your butt over there because you all are HILARIOUS (keep those tributes coming!). I was cracking up all day at all of your stories. Who has the best followers?  

I DO!! 

Fo' reals, we could win a contest or something up in here. I know let's all go on Jeopardy together??? (okay it seems like a really good idea if you don't think about it...at all.)

Let's Hear It For The Boys

Dress: Thrifted     Belt: Thrifted   Shoes: Aero

When me and Matt were dating we used to joke about each other's x's. I knew he loved tattoo'd troubled girls and he knew I loved me some jocks. After all our x's have gone through, I figured that the least I could do was to give them a proper tribute.

A Proper Tribute to the X-men (get it?) of my life.

Dear face maker: I started dating you because I was so completely utterly rebounding from another guy. While our adventures were fun (and I'll never forget the time you gave me a potato as a present and then your friend ate it...raw) all quirky funny things must come to an end right? 

Dear Mr. Whisper: You REALLY liked to whisper things in my ear and then breathe really hard and I'm still trying to figure out for the life of me why you did it....why?????

Dear Poopy: You are the only one that I have no problem with calling...a poopy head. Because you completely had me fooled. I shall not give a tribute to you but rather hawk a spit wad over my shoulder and say good riddance. You used me....and you were good at it...oh and I hate your dumb motorcycle.

Dear V: You impressed me by eating a piece of meat off of the ground....you were my very best friend.

Dear Donut Glaze: You were my very first childhood kiss and first crush. I have no idea where you are now but thanks for giving my little elementary girl self the heart pangs.

Dear crazy hair: I dated you in middle school and we were so immature that we never even spoke to each other while we were dating...and then you broke up with me. Touche.

Please oh please won't you give a tribute to one of your X's in the comment section!?

 

No Viva La Card Snappers

So there I am, in my little car, eating a little cup of fruit and hoping just a little that Matt will get off work early so that we can party hardy. But for now, I'm alone in a big city, with no map quest directions (Who leaves their hotel without mapquest directions?? Who I tell you.), and just a large old paper map of Vegas. I spin the map around in my hands hoping that a little man might hop out of the map and tell me where to go but instead I just keep turning and turning, "Charleston, Charleston, Where's Charleston.....Where the heck am I????". The solution may just come once my belly is full. So I keep chomping on my peaches, staring at the map, chomping and staring.

Bam! revelation! I know where I'm going! I roll my window down (because unfamiliar cities are always better with the windows down) and a wave of heat hits me and I smell mexican food and dirty socks and keep pressing on (I hope all of Vegas doesn't smell like this).

All day I wander around, from street to street, but my goals were not the usual goals of tourists, no no, they were to go to every thrift store in Vegas (yes you may say it, I am a PARTY ANIMAL). Salvation Army (is pure awesomeness), Goodwill (makes me cry with joy), Savers (is overrated), Savers (Is overpriced), Savers (Is huge) Goodwill (some more). I now have filled the car with a GIANT bag of stuff that I only shelled out a whopping twenty buckaroos for. I feel the sweet burn of success and when I pick Matt up, I proudly present the loot. He laughs and we make our way to the strip...and that was the last of our happiness.

See this Matt, he's not such a fan of Vegas. So I was out to prove him wrong, I told him we'd have fun, see shows, take funny pictures. So we park and start meandering and we get to our first cross walk....big mistake. These tiny little men with neon green shirts start coming towards us, clicking their cards together, and shoving their cards in our hands, the sidewalk is completely covered with the cards. What are these mysterious cards I wonder? I take a glance and see filth, total filth with terrible with pictures of nude girls on them that say, "Girls directly to you." (or something unremarkable and stupid)

I'm completely filled with anger, "This is my husband your trying to give these cards to" I think in my head. "Your handing these out to little children!" my mind screams. We keep pushing our way through the crowd hoping that we can escape the reach of the pushy neon men. I considered taking their huge stack of cards and do something drastic like throw them in trash but decided that might be a little too bold so I just quicken my step. Finally we make our way to get our tickets to Cirque De Soleil and their sold out (sold out? sold out???). So we ask what tickets are left, "Playboy is having a comedy skit." oh why yes please, because we haven't had enough porn shoved in our face yet. We walk away defeated and the rest of our night was spent walking through the pushy neons, clicking their cards like a little field of crickets

I'll just put it nicely and say the best part of the day was eating nutella ice cream and playing I spy with street performers (best entertainment of the night, I REALLY need to know how to get a hold of a transformer suit.)

 

So the rest of the trip we steered clear from the strip, ate ourselves some sushi and got the heck out of there. Sorry guys, but I am no longer a fan of Vegas. We're not going back any time soon.

Oh The Anxiety

Dress: Thrifted (Simply Vera)      Blouse: Thrifted     Shoes: Thrifted (Nordstrom Boutique)   Belt: TJ Maxx

So long story short back in January on a random whim I signed up for a triathalon....and the time has come. My race is this Saturday.  I've been having nightmares of me drowning in a lake, daydreams of me getting punched in the face as I doggy paddle for my life, and even rare wonderings of whether I'll get hit by a truck as I peddle my little peddlers down the highway (yeah the bike portion is on the freakin' highway).

The best part about this dang thing is that I now have bike shorts with a butt pad in them.No really it's been awesome, really spiced up me and Matt's life. Every time I'm bored I just put those on and show Matt how I can work my square poofy bike shorts to "Cyclone". We now both know that I indeed can move my body like a cyclone...even in my poofy butt shorts.

Just in case I don't make it through this thing I have willed my most important possessions

Matt: I give to you my VHS copy of The Labryinth

Michelle: You can have my stuffed animal squiggy as long as you sleep with him every night

Jen: I deem you fit of the wooden candle holder that I made in shop class in the eighth grade.

Jason: you can have/sell on ebay my laptop

Em: you can have that dumb fish that I never bought, in other words, in honor of me go buy a fish and name it Herbie.

And as for all my clothes, I desire that you scatter them throughout the arctic ocean (no real reason for that, just sounds appropriate to me)

Guys I'm in need of some serious help. Any tips for this nervous beginner?

(Oh also, there are some new items up in the shop from my closet!)

His Last Dying Wish

Let's get one thing straight. I really am not a good cook at.all. If I make something for dinner, I am hardly ever making something new. I'm more like that cafeteria lady that slops something on your plate and just hopes you'll grin and smile about whatever you get. BUT Matt was really really sick last weekend and his one and only wish when I asked him if he needed anything was a homemade peach pie (I'm pretty sure it's because we were watching Pushing Daisies episodes all weekend long) so I obliged because lets face it, his sad sick face is something I cannot say not to. I figured you guys might like the recipe too!

Revival Files: Dress Makeover

Total Cost = $6

This week I took my friend Shawna to the thrift store to teach her how to thrift shop like a pro and this dress smacked me over the face with revival needs. I took in the dress, removed a LOT of length from the bottom,  reconstructed the sleeves to have that cute white stripe on the bottom and sewed on the white waistband to make it a little less... matronly shall we say. Hello mint green sunshine of my life!

P.S. The before picture is what Matt gets to behold each time I find something at the thrift store. I try it on and do the most matronly poses I can think of...he calls it ridiculous and I call it our nightly entertainment.