Best Friends Forever

For those of you who have seen the musical, my dream is to be Auntie Mame. My four year old niece, Keely, slept over last night. It was her first sleepover, and I was nervous that she wouldn't make it through the night. This may be because I was traumatized by MY first sleepover with Teresa Scanu when I was about 6 or 7. She came to sleep at my house and right before bed she started crying for her dad and had to go home. Of course in that case my brothers had been chasing her and beating her over the head with a frying pan which hadn't happened to Keely...but still...I remembered and I feared this would end badly.

I am pleased to report that she made it without once asking for her mom, crying or wanting to go home. Our girl's night consisted of Red Robin (with milkshakes - her request), a little shopping, and then pulling out the futon to make a big bed with pillows and blankets in the living room while we painted our nails ate treats and watched movies until we fell asleep. (Oh, I may also have bought her a few toys to open.) Her dad only packed her pajama bottoms (although Shawn and Lisa were still debating at breakfast who was REALLY at fault on that one)

so you can see we made do with one of my T-shirts which fit her like a glove. (The shirt hung down almost to her ankles, but she refused to let me take the picture w/o her pulling it up and holding it tight in the back so "it looked right." Wow.)

Because I was so nervous she was going to wake up and wonder where she was and where her mom was I slept pretty lightly. Once I woke up to see her getting back in bed. I'm still not sure if she used the bathroom or was sleepwalking. From there on out, I barely slept with each move she made. (What if she killed me in my sleep? She's small yes, but crafty.) She sat up twice and I thought she was awake...no. She also stretched her arms quite a bit and rolled around a lot. I'm pretty sure I checked on her once an hour between the hours of midnight and 7am when she finally opened her eyes and said, "Good morning Aunt Shauri." Good morning indeed! There's a reason I'm not a mother and it's because God knows I would die an early death of sleep exhaustion.

This morning she told me some of her favorite HILARIOUS stories about poopie (which I'm here to report is the funniest word EVER to 4 year olds.) and which she blamed on learning from her cousin Gavin. They were pretty simple stories like, "This boy had poopie on his face and then he showed it to someone." HA HA HA!!!!

We rolled out of bed after sharing a bit more good bathroom humor, and got dressed for our grand finale - breakfast at IHOP. Lisa and Shawn met us there to pick up their daughter, who I think the sleepover may actually have been more traumatic for than Keely, and then we said our farewells.

When I came home and spent a few days with them in Michigan several weeks ago, Lisa told me that Keely was taking the "best friend forever" picture she and I took in one of those machines at the mall and was sleeping with it. She told Lisa that she was really sad that I always had to leave. This morning I feel the same way.

It's pretty great to be an aunt.

Ed can't be a Mormon

And not because he doesn't want to. I don't know if he wants to be one or not, (I'm sure he does) but I had to tell him today that he's not invited. He seemed a little upset (understandably) and told me that the Catholics don't want him either. He thought the Jehovah's Witness people might take him since they come to his door so much, but then he realized they haven't been coming around lately either. Turns out last time he saw them he asked them "if they had to mention the bible in every sentence."

I told Ed his problem might be all the talking. If he could just be quiet and keep his thoughts to himself some of the religions might take him on. I'm still not sure we Mormons want him, but it makes the deal a little sweeter if he could hold his tongue.

A "Sweet-A**" Christmas

Christmas is never going to be the same again.

It's time for me to just understand that, and accept it. I am very glad that Shawn and Lisa and family came out to Utah and that Debbie and Steve were nice enough to invite us over to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day, but I'm just saying - having mom and dad gone has been eye-opening.

Here's what I mean. Christmas Eve there was high drama because the boys (as usual) were downstairs playing video games. And by boys I mean Steve, Travis, and Mike (close or well in to their 30's) not Gavin and Benji (ages 4 and 1.) I went down with the "real" kids to watch How the Grinch stole Christmas before they went to bed. I thought we could all watch it together. I was wrong. We were told to go to another TV and Mike and Travis said they would just go to Mike's house and play if we kicked them off the game. Everyone got mad (shocker) and we ended up watching it with the kids while Steve and Travis went upstairs in Steve's bedroom. Steve, to his credit did eventually join us and apologized - he just doesn't like not having options. 'Tis the season I guess.

The night did end better after the kids went to bed and we decided to play a game with the adults. Travis and I bought the Atwoods a new game called, "Chicks versus the Dudes." How can you resist a name like that?? It was pretty fun, although we started off kicking the dude's butts and they were furious and saying things like, "The girl questions are super easy and ours are soo hard---every girl knows that a pitcher gets measured on ERA and what that stands for." Anyway, we ended up tying one game to one, although I have no doubt they will tell you they really won both. Why? Because in order to win you have to pass a final challenge. The options for this challenge are: 1. Name the company that makes a given product 2. Spell a given word 3. Finish a given ad slogan or movie line OR 4. THUMB WRESTLE.

It's clearly a good game when the makers bring thumb wrestling in as a deciding factor, I mean how awesome is that?? Perhaps ro-sham-bo would have been more fair though. My fellow "chick" teammates told the guys this was not fair and that none of us could beat any of the guys at thumb wrestling. (I personally disagree, as I have a high level of patience and thumb flexibility, but I gave in to the pressure.) Because we wouldn't let them pick thumb wrestling as our challenge and we won, they don't concede the victory. Basically, they still gave us a different choice and read it, so I have to believe in a court of law our victory would stand up.

So that was Christmas Eve. Christmas day was lovely and Lisa and Shawn were super thoughtful to get extra gifts for the singletons (Travis and I) who weren't getting any packages to open. It was super nice of them to include is in their day.

But nice and good is boring, so let's move on to the....unique part of my day. I had told the basketball guys who got left behind that I would make Christmas dinner for them. You know, Thanksgiving went so smoothly, and, well, that whole matching shoe thing...

Ok, so I picked the guys up (There were supposed to be 4, but 2 changed their minds and I ended up with 2. This was good because the 2 I picked up BARELY fit in my compact car. James literally had the front seat pushed as far back as it would go he still had his knees up to his chin. Lamar was stretched out in back because his legs wouldn't fit with no leg room. Imagine if the other two guys (7'1" and 6' 7") had tried to fit in as well. Anyway, I had cooked for 5 people and I thought there was no way the three of us could put a dent in it. Oh wait, let me back up to what I cooked at their request:

Ham, Macaroni and Cheese (not Kraft, Ed), cheesy potatoes, beans, rolls, and that heath bar chocolate cake.

Ok - so we all sit down at my little table together (again barely fitting) the table filled with food, but mainly with a pot of Macaroni and cheese that was the size of a pan you would use to cook a roast and potato dinner. I had tripled the recipe. I was nervous they wouldn't like my first attempt at Mac&Cheese after the failed sweet potato pie, but they both filled their plates twice. Literally filled their plates twice - high and deep with just mac&cheese and then did the other stuff. They ate half the pot or more. It was amazing. It was actually very gratifying after my Turkey Day failure and I got a compliment which I think I can say with 99% confidence that I will never, ever again get on Christmas day..."Girl..that was some SWEET-ASS macaroni and cheese!" I wish Boob would say it to Delsa after one of her fine Christmas meals, but I doubt it.

We had a good (and entertaining) conversation where I learned all about how much life sucks in Provo for a tall, black man with no car, and what their favorite food is. Care to guess? It's chicken. I said, "Fried chicken?" And James replied, "Fried, baked, rib, breast, wing or thigh. Grilled it, batter it, whatever. Chicken." Seems like a great ad for Chicken farmers.

After dinner James wanted to go home and Lamar and I topped off our Rockwell-ian Christmas with a visit to the movie, "I am Legend." As Lamar looked around all the Utahns walking around, he just shook his head and said, "This place is weird." I couldn't disagree as I thought about my day. Merry Christmas and God bless us everyone.

The Nativity Story

I've never seen a version of the Nativity Story quite this compelling. The story so clearly stood on it's on that costumes weren't even necessary. Except for Debbie. Not sure why she had one, but I think she wore it well.

Let's recap.
The story began with Mary (Keely) and Joseph (Gavin) riding in on the donkey (Steve). Usually Joseph walks, but our Joseph didn't really think that was fair. I kind of agree. You can see the donkey is an ANGRY donkey.



First stop: The innkeeper. Mike. As you can see he is WAY too busy texting to find any room in the inn for our hapless protagonists. I think it was a great modern touch on an old classic.


Second stop involved Debbie as a shepherd and Julie as a sheep, but I'm confused by how and when they came in. They looked good though, which is obviously the most important thing.

Final stop was the birth of baby Jesus. Travis. There are several problems with this in my mind, and apparently in Keely's too because she refused him on two counts.
1. He was too old. She said she would NOT be Mary if Travis was the baby Jesus. When that failed...

2. She began to yell at him that baby Jesus would NOT text. Not because they didn't have texting back in the good old days, but because, "Babies Can NOT text. They are too small!"

Waiting for the other Shoe to Drop

After being on the road for a week and a half, I got back to my Flash friends and filming last night. I didn't think I was gone that long, but I got comments from everyone asking where I was and why I hadn't been filming, and how they thought I wasn't doing the film anymore. You'd think I was gone for a month and not a week. I'm not sure if everyone was just missing me and worried I wasn't returning, or if they were relieved not to have a camera in their faces anymore and hopeful that the pain was over at last. I'm going to pretend it was the first, everyone wants to be a star!

While I was gone the team put together a little surprise for Travis & I to thank us for cooking Thanksgiving dinner for them:


It's a size 18 Jazz shoe that the whole team signed. And more importantly, it's a perfect fit. I thought it was a really sweet thing to do, and it almost made up for the deathly silent day of thanks. In fact, I've been getting some hints to cook a little Christmas dinner too....I was thinking definitely not...but now I'm not so sure. I mean I can't wear this shoe out without it's match. I guess I can handle silence one more day...but no sweet potato pie.


And P.S. Another exciting overtime win last night for the Flash. Shawn got his first taste of the joy. I'm starting to track two fans that are especially entertaining and die-hard. More to come on them in the next post.

PMS - The cruelest joke

I am angry. Angry that I have no idea what I'm angry at.

It's a good thing I live alone, because I'm quite sure that if anyone else was in the house right now they would wish they weren't. And how do you think that makes me feel? That's right, horribly sad. Which is ridiculous right? I mean why am I sad that I'm angry and I don't know why, but I do know that I would hurt someone if they were here? That's frustrating.

And you know what else? I guarantee that after I took out my anger on an unwilling suspect and then started crying because I felt so bad, that it would only be moments later that I would be laughing hysterically through my tears at how ridiculous the whole situation was. Which wouldn't make me angry again, but the cramps that would probably start kicking in around that time would. Yup, I'd be angry again that there was a knife-like pain in my abdomen. I mean where's the justice in 5 days of pain every month? It wasn't enough to be an emotional basket case?

So that's it. PMS is the cruelest of all jokes, and it's played only on women. What, oh what, did we do to deserve this? Did a woman make God angry as he was thinking through the whole creation thing? I actually hope I never find out the answer to that, because it would probably make me angry. And so we come full-circle.

P.S. I yelled at Ed because he had the audacity to come in one of my internal meetings today. Here's why I was mad: he didn't tell me why he was there. Can YOU IMAGINE?? I snapped "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" and almost bit his head off. It might not sound like much to you, but that's because you don't have what I have.

I am unexpectedly elite

I fly a lot. This means I have "status." In fact, I am "elite." That's airline-speak for if there's room in first class you get to sit there... and still not see a movie or get any food.

Before I had "status" I always imagined first class a lot like it was on Seinfeld. Anyone see the episode where Jerry got upgraded and Elaine didn't? He got to sit next to a gorgeous supermodel. They kept getting ice cream sundaes and fresh baked cookies and massages, and the flight attendants were even (gasp) friendly. That was my dream.

I'm here to tell you, it ain't like that anymore. Don't get me wrong - it's better than steerage, but not much. Regardless, and even if it wasn't one iota better, I would still want to sit up there simply because most people don't get to which makes it special. It's like the whole big convention thing where people want all the free stuff being handed out, and take big handfuls of anything free, even if it was just a chunk of poo. Or a brochure. People love free stuff. And people like upgrades.

So what's my point? I don't really have one, but if I had to make one up, it would be that the unexpected upgrade is even better than the expected one so listen up. Today on my flight back I didn't get upgraded before my flight. I checked in and asked if there was any chance I could still get upgraded at the door. The answer was still no. There were 2 seats available and I was 4th on the list. I resigned myself to the back with the people of no status and made myself comfortable. Got all my bags put away and my reading material out. I was resigned to coach.

And here's where it gets good people. The plane door is about to close when a flight attendant walks back to my seat and says, "Ms. Quinn?" Of course my first thought was, "Oh no, they're kicking me out of the exit row." But NO, the heavens were smiling on me today. "Ms. Quinn, there's a seat in first waiting for you."

I smiled and nodded calmly as if I had been graciously waiting for them to realize this and as if it were expected, and then I calmly gathered my things together, nodded to the poor saps who had no status and were obviously not elite and walked up front (without tripping even once) where I belonged. First class. Where you DO get nuts with your drink.

Kristin's Early Birthday Surprise

Sadly, I won't be with my beautiful sister on her birthday, so we decided (well, I did) to celebrate together early. How you ask? With that classic, age-old American birthday tradition - massage. What better way to celebrate the passing of another year than having a stranger rub oil on your naked body in low light?

Honestly, at this age it really should be a tradition - rub out the aches and pains of joints that are starting to creak and muscles that don't quite have that same resilience and elasticity of early years. I never thought I'd get to that age where you start complaining about how your knees aren't what they used to be and how you are worried about one wrong fall potentially breaking a hip, but we're both in our 30's now and frankly, the good years are past. So with no further ado - Happy Birthday Kristin!! May your hips stay intact through another year.

I think the massages were a good idea as we had both been a little stressed lately. We went to the Four Seasons, which was lovely. Kristin was lucky enough to get her massage in silence. I was regaled with tales of South Africa, how my quads were actually in decent shape (thanks- I really want my naked body rated while being rubbed by a strange man), and told what kind of stretches I should be doing in the morning.

After the massages, we wanted to take a picture to commemorate our little outing. As you can see from the picture, we really enjoyed it.


We were laughing pretty hard after we looked at the picture and realized how unhappy we looked. Kristin said she was just so relaxed for the first time she couldn't NOT look exhausted. We tried a few more, and while none are what I would call flattering, here's one of the, errr, better shots.



As a postscript, another moment we enjoyed was driving up to the ultra posh Four Seasons in Kristin and Abram's quivering, puttering, baby-goop filled, missing-door handled 1992 Honda. We only travel in style! I'm sure the valets drive better cars than we tooled up in, but hey, no shame in our game!

Excuse my blogging lapse

Sorry for the blogging lapses, I know I rarely miss a day but it's been challenging while traveling. I spent Thursday and Friday in Michigan getting caught up with all the work peeps and Keely's family. (Clearly the dominant member of the family.) We had our Christmas party for work on Friday and it was entertaining as always. Plenty of jokes about Gary being short which are ALWAYS crowd pleaser's.

I think my favorite moment though was pre-party when Ed and Gary were fighting over who gets the most attention on my blog. Gentlemen (and I use the term loosely), there's plenty of time to cover both of your quirks thoroughly. I would hate to think my blog caused a fight between the two of you when you usually get on so well. (By the way, so you can get a picture in your mind, Ed was going to dress up as the Jolly Green Giant and Gary as his sidekick sprout. I thought it would be even funnier if Gary just dressed up as a corn niblet.)

Keely and I got to go to Bob's Big Boy for breakfast one morning (just the girls) which was also a treat. Nothing like giant-sized portions of sugar laden food. She did tell me before we left that her mommy would not want her to eat sugar foods like french toast, so we very studiously avoided the dangerous french toast and chose a healthy pile of pancakes covered with very healthy sugar coated peaches and whip cream. Because she was so good to eat her healthy breakfast, I rewarded her with a candy cane for dessert. I love being an aunt.

Delsa NOT Hot???

This will be short and sweet. Whoever had the audacity to vote that Delsa was not hot at all stand up and be counted. Quickly--Gary is boarding a plane to wherever you are immediately and there will be hell to pay. (that's just an expression mom.)

Wrapping Presents is Hard

Brandt's wife Katie put together the Flash Foundation to help people in need, especially over the holiday season. On Monday after practice the whole team, plus some of the dance team and neighbors went to Walmart with lists of people to shop for. Then last night everyone gathered at Brandt's house to wrap the gifts. Listed below are some of my favorite moments from the night.



1. Aleksander (The Croation - not the Ukranian) holding up a gi-normous woman's bra and asking,"How do you wrap this?"

2. Large grown men who can adeptly dribble between their legs and sharp-shoot a ball in to a small hoop looking helplessly at paper, tape, scissors and gifts and wondering how you turn all those things into wrapped presents. (How do people get to this age w/o knowing how to wrap a gift??)

3. Mike C. wrapping one small toy for 20 minutes with no less than 3 sheets of paper to "cover all the holes".

4. 5 year old Zack coming in where we were wrapping, looking in awe at Mike C. and saying, "Hey...you're Cuffee!" Apparently he was so excited to meet him he invited Mike to his basketball game and Mike graciously accepted.

5. James asking me when I was making sweet potato pie for them again. NEVER.

6. Me trying to stir up some rivalry between Brian J. and Kevin K. on their wrapping skillz and Brian turning to me and saying, "Present wrapping is NOT competitive." Kevin won.

7. None of the guys taking crackers to go with their cheese at the buffet because "they looked funny." (It was those big round fancy multi grain ones.)



There were many more, but needless to say it was an entertaining and eye-opening evening for all involved. It was nice of them to come and volunteer to help and it was a great way to bring in some Christmas spirit!

How DOES marriage happen?

Ok, so Gary sparked a minor debate with his comment that you should and would know immediately on the first date if this is the person you can marry. That you will feel like you can't live without them. So for argument's sake I'm curious. Please weigh in with how it happened for you if you're married and how you think it will happen for you if you're not.
I know Delsa at least was MUCH more practical than that. :)

We can be.. Together Forever Someday

It was brought to my attention by Kris Hansen (one of my most loyal subjects - I mean readers) that I haven't been updating my love life. I want to remedy this travesty, but first I need to deal with Gary. Again. My dear and good (and certainly "special") friend Gary thinks that the purpose of this blog is to verbalize why no man is good enough for me. That simply isn't true. Well, it IS true that no man is good enough, but it's NOT true that is the purpose of this blog. Since he has no doubt been working 800 hours a week as a Rooter-ooski he probably just doesn't understand the content without the dreaded learning objectives. So for Gary's sake, after you have completed all the posts on this blog you will be able to:

1. understand and share the joy of my life with the world.
2. laugh heartily at least once but probably more.
3. explain the difference between Russia and the Ukraine
4. discuss why there are so many loony single men out there (most of which are more than good enough for me to date.) and what their problems are.

There. I hope that helps. Now let's dive into learning objective 4. I had a date last night. He appeared to be normal and nice and I even daresay dashingly handsome. After scrabble and playa, and player romantic dating dabbles though I have tried to set my expectations pretty low. Turns out that can be a good thing. (Just like when you think a movie is going to suck, but you go anyway and then you're pleasantly surprised. Get it?)

Our event for the evening was going to be a trip to the finest theater Provo had to offer. The Forgotten Carols. Scoff if you will, but I LOVE this story and the music. I know 88.8% of you think it's pure cheese, but remember what Fez says, "The cheese in the mousetrap is never free." Ok, that didn't apply here at all, but I've been looking for a good excuse to plug it back in cause it's so freaking awesome! I digress. So, it might be cheesy - but - I like it.

We go to the show and neither of us has seen the live production. Turns out at the end of the show Michael McLean goes a little nutty and does some improv. This is where it gets REALLY cheesy. First we all have to hum silent night and he sings this song "arise" and we all have to, well, arise. THEN...yes, THEN he pulls this little trick I wasn't ready for. He starts singing that good old Mormon missionary video song "We can be together forever someday." You know, the whole families are forever deal. This isn't it though. He makes everyone in the audience "Link up" (which is a little eerie since we met on linkup--do you think he knew? Maybe it WAS fate.) and hold hands or link arms and while you are linked to your very awkward first date dude that you're not sure if you should be touching, you are supposed to sing with him WE CAN BE TOGETHER FOREVER!!!!!! Are you freaking kidding me?? You can't make this stuff up people. It's sick. I just feel really uncomfortable because frankly, I'm not sure that's a promise I can keep to this guy. I hope I can, I really do, but chance are (Gary help me out) he's just not good enough for me.

So on "the real" (as Travis would say) it actually was a fun date and there is some potential...maybe. There's some oddness, but I'm fairly certain that you aren't going to find a 38 year old man who's never been married (or who has been for that matter) without some oddness. Let the games begin. Or continue.

Gary Loves Delsa

For those of you who aren't in the know, Gary Magenta is the Vice President of Sales and Marketing (I think--I don't really follow our org. structure that closely) at Root Learning. He also lives in Ann Arbor and has been kind enough to allow our family to break bread with him many times. He also has what I will loosely call an obsession with my mother. Delsa. I agree she is a lovely lady who has really stood the test of time, but I mean, it's my mother. I just don't know how many more times I can hear "Shauri's mother is SO hot." Especially when it is followed by, "Much better than Shauri." Seriously. Anyway, for those of you who don't check the comments, here is the latest online drooling he posted in response to my blog on Ed's "issues". I mean what do the two even have in common? Is the man obsessed? I leave it to you:

Gary: "I am truly stumped! How can we spend so much time talking about this gout ridden Neanderthal when we could be talking about how Delsa is the best looking grandma on six continents? Ed, no disrespect to you or your “ailment” but I want to help attract people to Shauri’s blog (aka here daily log about why no man deserves her), not prompt people to click over to web MD. Please see a medical doctor; I am not sure this type of group therapy is going to help you heal."

You'll see how he slid in the whole "Delsa is hot and Shauri is not" in new, cleverly disguised words. I guess it's time for a new vote...see top left.

It's beginning to look...

...a LOT like Christmas.
We got dumped on here in Provo yesterday which should make skiers across the world happy. It is truly a winter wonderland, and I have to say that while I am NOT a fan of winter, cold or wearing 10 layers of clothes, there is something magical about that first big dump. Especially at Christmas time. Garrett and Travis are singing carols (well the one or two lines of them they know- bob-style.) and all is merry and bright.

The downside of the snowfall was getting to the Flash game last night. Roads were treacherous and I think it kept away a good portion of the crowd. There still appeared to be about 1500 -2000 in attendance, but not the big weekend crowd they were hoping for.

The other big problem the snow caused was a leak in the roof. On to the court. We thought everything would be canceled, but apparently that was never an option. We watched as building employees stood by the dripping bucket watching drips and hoping for a Christmas miracle. Honestly, I never saw anyone actually do anything to solve the problem, so I think it must have eventually been a miracle that saved the day and kept Brandt's head from exploding. The funniest thing to me was watching men in vests stand by the bucket with heads up-turned to watch the drips and their wrists up. Why were their wrists up? Why, to time the drips of course. They kept me posted as we moved from 5 seconds to 20 seconds between drips. It seemed like a very helpful and relevant task.

Danny Ainge was in attendance, and I have to say meeting him was a disappointment. I think I built it up too big in my head. I mean, in High School I did make cupcakes every year at playoff time that I decorated in white and green frosting with the numbers of all the players on the Celtics team, so I kind of thought meeting him was this small dream come true. When I introduced myself, I must have interrupted something because he seemed slightly put out that I was talking to him and laughed a somewhat scoffing laugh when I told him I was hoping to do a more formal sit-down interview with him later in the year. Maybe this was in my head, but I will tell you--I wish that when he bit Tree Rollins back in the 80's that Tree had taken care of the little squirt then and there. At least I have interview footage of him from the night before that I can edit to make him say anything I want.

So sometimes dreams come true, sometimes they don't, and sometimes they're just not what you always imagined. Luckily my dream of living in Provo with Travis and Garrett did come true and is all that I ever dreamed. Who needs Danny Ainge anyway?

Rootsters Please Read : Vote For Ed

Some of you may remember my "ED has Gout" blog. If you read it, you'll remember a guy with what could be perceived as pretty nasty foot disease, but also with a big tender heart who loves Little Women. The book people, not midget ladies. (He may like those too, but it's not my business.) This blog can be enjoyed by all, but is primarily dedicated to my "co-worker - subscribers" because Ed has a need. Maybe more, but there's only room in this blog for one. Here it is: Ed needs to be fun.

Last May I won the prestigious "Fun Award" at one of our Root-tastic events which was obviously well-deserved although I DO try to be modest about it. Ever since that day, and without fail, whenever Ed and I talk he makes a comment like, "Oh, well I guess that's why you won the fun award." OR "That makes sense since you won the fun award." You get the idea. He's bitterly jealous. He CRAVES the fun award, much like my brother Ryan when he was 5, "Craved Adventure." ("Mr. Thompson, I CRAVE adventure." It's a classic Quinn story.) Sadly, he hasn't received this award, so I make a plea to you, the voting public...GIVE HIM THE AWARD. I'd like to say this plea is for his benefit, but it's really for mine. I just want him to shut his yapper.

So here are some of the reasons why Ed deserves the award. All of which came from our conversation last night on the phone. (Where yes, he did bring up my award again.)

1. I discovered that Ed isn't as smart as I thought he was. And I said so. He thought this meant he changed from being smart, but I was forced to tell him it was more about me than him. I just didn't GET it before. His reply, "You know the smart thing is all I have going for me." Not anymore, so let's let him be fun. Frankly, if he's not that smart he deserves the Fun award. Look at the history of recipients: Me, Maria, Gary, Mark, Tricia, Jeff, Jason C must have been in the mix...Look, these are historically un-smart people. Ed's primed.

2. He's street smart. He was tossing out words on our call like hoodlum. But in much fancier ways than you or I might say them. His pronunciation: WHO-dlum. (he suggested I could phonetically spell this whoo-dlum, which to me is again an indicator of his intelligence and ability to think outside the box - why two o's in who? how clever!) I assured him it was hud-lum (with that fancy double dot over the u) and he replied, "Really, well then how would you say h-o-o-d?" Well my fun friend, it certainly would NOT be whoo-d. But people--how FUN is that?

3. Now this last one is fun. He's emotive. Just ask him to pretend he's fat Albert (his middle name) and to say "Hey, Hey, Hey..." If you want fun--put on your seat belt cause you're in for a wild ride down the boulevard of FUN!

That's it. There are so many more reasons, and I'm sure he'll continue the campaign, but for my sake, I beg of you...don't vote your conscience this year. Just vote for Ed.

My Dream Wedding...Dance

A friend just passed on this link and it is way too irresistible to resist posting it. Please enjoy and should the blessed event ever happen for me, I just want you to know what you can look forward to.

http://www.glumbert.com/media/weddingfirstdance

The Flash Lose

It was too good to be true---2 games in a row, well it was time to end that robust streak.

I have to say, the Flash are doing a MUCH better job of managing and operating their team than any other team in the league I've seen. There was literally no more than 35-50 people in that Anaheim arena tonight. It was dead silent at times. Bizarre. When you compare it to 3,000 at Utah and all rowdy, obnoxious fans, it's a pretty stark difference. Which makes for an interesting angle in the documentary -- what it takes to get fans and how that impacts the players.

I tried to interview Gabe Pruitt's dad (the Celtic player) at the game, but he wasn't having it. Apparently he was too busy trying to get Brandt to go down to the locker room and give his son messages about changing his sneakers to the right brand. Of course Brandt was NOT having that, so he told daddy-o, "I'm not a messenger boy, I'm the owner of this team." Hello, and check-mate. Gabe's not winning any points with dad's help.

The exciting news is that Danny Ainge is slated to come out to Fri/Sat's games this week to watch his players and I'm planning to grab some time to both interview him and tell him about the Celtic parties I used to throw where I decorated cupcakes in green and white with each player's number. I think he can't fail to be impressed by that.

I did forget to mention why I suck at driving in my last blog. That is because I was trying to straighten my car in Travis and Garrett's garage and I accidentally ran in to the metal thing-y that makes the door go up and down. Garrett and I were frantically trying to fix it before Travis got home, cause we knew once he saw the damage we would be spanked and grounded for life. Sadly, we were just one last blow away with the wrench to fixing it when Travis pulled in. He was very, very disappointed in us and even though we fixed it, I'm not sure if he will ever be able to look at me the same. I tried to explain that it's not my fault, I just suck at driving and it's so great that I can own that....he didn't get it. It was like I was talking to a rock. I thought it was a great explanation. Anyway, big thanks to garrett for using a wrench to weld the door thing-y back together. I think we found his career...

I suck at bowling. And driving.

But at least I'm willing to admit it, which I think is really commendable.

Yesterday was Garrett's birthday, and I am sad to say that I had completely forgotten (which everyone knows isn't like me) until he came over the night before and reminded me. Which I'm really glad he did.

So last night we got a group of party-people together and took him out to dinner, followed by cake and a sweet night of bowling. A Provo-show stopper you might say. I mean, we took every single thing you CAN do in Provo and put them in to one night of joy for our birthday boy.

I've always suspected I sucked at bowling, but it wasn't until after the first game when people were complaining about their scores of 150 and 170 that I glanced up to see my blazing 61 and thought, "wow. you're bad. and not in the good way." So hey, that's a lesson learned. We can't all be good at everything, and frankly I'm pretty busy right now being good at blogging and wearing twinner dresses better than other girls. I doubt if US magazine has ever had such a run-away winner. Hello- I'm beating the other girls by over 90%!! So, thanks for your support people. Honestly, I'm sure you were all voting authentically and not just trying to make me feel good. Right?

So back to Garrett. If you're reading this Garrett, and I'm sure you are after yesterday's comment of, "This bad internet connection is really killing my blogging" or something like that, I want you to know that I hope you had your best birthday yet. I was thinking about your complaint yesterday that it is very rude how all those people make jokes to you about never leaving the house, and I agree. So I've come up with a very special birthday present for you. It's the top five (ten is really, really hard) comebacks to their silly, stupid comment "You never leave the house.":

5. That's because I'm trying to break a world record here which requires great determination and willpower. Something you obviously know nothing about.

4. So?
(I like this one. It's simple, elegant, and hard to come back to.)

3. I know. Because when I do leave, I meet up with more stupid people - like you.

2. I accomplish more in one hour of not leaving this house than you do in six days of not leaving it. I mean, if you didn't...you know, leave it either. (The aim of this one is to just completely confuse them and leave them speechless. Turn and walk away.)

1. Pull a Chris McKay on them and say, "If you say that to me one more time I will knife you in your neck."
(Chris is a friend who got in the car for dinner last night and told us that he was going to "knife his ex-girlfriend in the neck if she showed up tonight.")

So, that's it. I hope this is the best birthday gift money couldn't buy. To my favorite youngest brother who never leaves the house, but does it on his own terms.

Heather got married yesterday and it was beautiful event. We noticed that they divided tables up by maturity level and ours was on the lower end of that scale. (We were trying to make ourselves feel better by saying we were the "fun table" but let's call a spade a spade.) Later that night Wallace asked Jamie and I if we thought she would be mature when she was 40. I reminded her it was only 4 years off, so chances weren't good.

Many of the wedding peeps requested copies of the pics I took, so I'm throwing up this little slideshow for your viewing pleasure. If you see one or two or eight you want, let me know and I'll be happy to send them your way!

Heather's Wedding

Who Wore it Best?

For those of you who read (or will admit to reading) US magazine, this title will require no explanation. For those of you who don't, here's the quick-ee rundown. US magazine finds women who are wearing the same outfit, snaps a pic, and then posts them together in the magazine asking the fans, "Who wore it best?" It's aswesome because it takes a situation where a woman is already embarassed or uncomfortable because she's wearing the same outfit as someone else, and then finds a deliciously evil way to make her feel even more self-conscious. Hey, take a look at this other woman wearing the same outfit and wonder if everyone thinks she looks BETTER than you in your twinner outfit.

Here's a link to the real one if you want to see how it works:
http://usmagazine.com/who_wore_it_best?id=63

So last night was Heather Fortuna's wedding. All was happily sailing along until Wallace leaned over to me and said, "That girl is wearing the SAME outfit as you!" But it got worse, this girl's BFF walked by after her and was wearing another twinner dress! Wallace and Jamie were cracking up and thinking it was embarassing for me, but they have no idea of the power of the blog and how it has liberated me. I embraced the US magazine tradition on its face and said, "This is great! New blog material! Come on and take a picture of me with these girls so I can post it and find out who you the readers think "Wore it Best."

I got Jamie to come with me and round up the girls for a photo, and it was hilarious because once people saw us together posing for Jamie a big crowd gathered around and soon EVERYONE was taking pictures. Everyone loves Twins...or Triplets in this case. The lesson people? An embarassing moment handled confidently can become a celebrity moment. Just make sure it's not a Britney moment.

So now it's your turn to speak. Who wore it best? (Vote at top left of page)