All That Jazz

me and my daddy at a Jazz game in 2009

I am the poster child for a sports dimwit.

If I see a ball flying near or towards my head my immediate reaction is to run.

Not catch.

Run.

I couldn't tell you how football works or even how many inning are in a baseball game.

I think that's why it was a shock to my roommates when they found me on the couch watching a Jazz game.

Gigi: "You're watching basketball?"

Me: "Not just basketball. It's Jerry and my boys."

I have to admit initially I didn't love Jerry, the boys, or the game.

But I did love my dad.

My dad is the Jazz fan.

And no fair weather fan at that.

He's always been a Jazz man.

I remember in middle school I would moan and groan when I would hear the too familiar voice of Hot Rod Hundley.

But then I would see my dad getting ready to coach the boys from our green couch.

And then I would sit next to him and the rhythm of the game would lure me in.

By the time I was in high school I was planning my nights around the games.

I would stay at home just to sit on that green couch and watch the game with my dad.

Some nights were victorious, others ended is embarrassing defeat.

Game after game, season after season.

Last season before I moved away I remember a pit in my stomach as each game ended.

Nothing would be as perfect as sitting on that green couch with my dad.

Tonight when I heard the voice of Craig Bolerjack and watched Jerry stalk onto the court in his usual slump I nearly teared up.

It's not just basketball...it's a little piece of home.

xo

Wrong Feet

I knew it was going to be a great day when I almost walked out of my

house with my shoes on the wrong feet.

xo

P.s. Today is the first official Snow Day in Happy Valley!

Weekly Dating Quiz

I'm sure I'm not entirely unique in being quizzed each week on my nonexistent dating life.

However, when there is indeed someone worth mentioning I like to make the process as painful as possible.

Mom: Have you meant anyone in your ward? alluding to the male race, of course.

Me: Yes. I met a boy named XXXXXX.

Mom: Oh really?! Is he nice?

Me: No. He's the meanest person I've ever met.

Mom: Is he cute? disregarding my comment.

Me: No. He's ugly and has warts.

Mom: You're mean.

xo

p.s. for the record: he's not so ugly.

Early Weekend

Today Provo feels small and in a way claustrophobic.

So, I decided I'm going to click my ruby heels together and make my way home tonight.

I hope you have a lovely weekend.

xo

P.s. “Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to” - John Ed Pearce

Pardon Me.

When I started blogging my intent was to give myself a corner of the world to air out my thoughts.

Initially, this worked well.

Until worry and concern crept into my mind.

As humans, we try to do everything in our power to make ourselves less vulnerable.

But living with worry always makes me tired and eventually my proverbial legs give out and I decide to let myself be human.

Not necessarily vulnerable, but human.

This takes faith.

Leaps of it.

Even buckets of it.

Somewhere between elementary and middle school I stopped trusting in my ability to be me.

I was recently told that my natural air-dried curl made me more human.

I want to implement more me into me.

Does that make sense?

I'm striving to be the person my Father in Heaven intended for me to be.

Not the person I wish I could be. Or think I should be.

But me.

Just me.

xo

Today I:

(The lovely Sienna Valley)

Slept in.

Drank a hot cup of tea.

Did homework.

Dreamt about the Sienna Valley.

Made a big pot of soup for my roommates.

Bought a can of pumpkin puree.

Bundled up.

Wore my black and white houndstooth jacket that makes me feel French.

Fell in love with my curly hair.

Wanted to kidnap the sweetest little baby at the grocery store.

Finished my laundry.

Wished I had eaten lunch.

Decided "it's not the end of the world".

Carbo-loaded. I'm not even running a race.

Decided that I'm so glad to be one day closer to the weekend.

xo

Obsessed.

Is it just me or does this song depict a hopeless romantic?

Either way I'm in love.

xo

P.s. They sound just as good live.