FHE Mama

I have a pretty good track record of not attending FHE since I've moved away from home.

If you are unfamiliar with FHE, it stands for Family Home Evening.

FHE is held on Monday nights and it's a time for families in our church to spend together.

College wards, like the one I attend, have little FHE groups and I was lucky enough to land a calling as an FHE mom.

I know this is karma paying me back for the past 3 years of avoidant behavior.

Tonight was my first go at being an FHE mom.

Lucky for me I was paired with another FHE mom and we decided to play games and she volunteered to bring a watermelon.

* it should be noted that I had a dream last night that I learned how to carve watermelons like you would carve a pumpkin at Halloween. So you can imagine my excitement?

We did the usual

.Prayer, spiritual thought, etc.

Once I had sufficiently dominated everyone in Mad Gab we decided to slice the watermelon open.

I'm not going to lie I was pretty excited.

I. Love. Watermelon.

My dear roommates began slicing the beast open and like opening flood gates the watermelon spewed water all over our counter top.

Then we split the beast open and the insides reminded me of the turkey on Christmas Vacation. See image below.

It was sad indeed.

I had to send all of my little FHE children home without watermelon.

Luckily, one of the children made this wonderful watermelon carving.

See image below.

Behold! The waterbeast!

xo

P.s. I am still craving watermelon.

The Great Migration: A Story of Fish and Irony

I have a fish.

His name is Jerry Sloan.

Why?

Because Jerry Sloan is the coolest and he will forever be planted in my childhood memories.

Jerry Sloan the fish was a gift from J. Actually, he was payback/gift.

Little did J know Jerry and I are destined to be together.

Jerry Sloan lived on my desk at work for about two months.

But then I started to feel like a very neglectful fish mom, so I decided to bring him home.

Let's be honest who wants to live in a cubicle?

This took lots of planning in my little brain.

I tried to think of a way to get Jerry in the car.

Everyone made ridiculous suggestions like put him in a baggie, or tape a paper plate to the bowl.

Too bad I didn't listen.

The best idea I came up with was to put his bowl in a bigger bowl.

This is where you should start worrying.

Bad. Idea.

I put Jerry's bowl in a much bigger bowl and set him on the floor of my car.

Voila! I thought.

I put my car into drive and that's when I should've put it back into park.

Jerry's bowl started to orbit around inside the bigger bowl and I'm pretty sure I gave him shaken fishy syndrome.

No problem. I thought. He will be grand.

Wrong-o.

The second I pulled out of the parking lot, a force much bigger than Jerry Sloan the fish, tipped his little fish home over.

Luckily, I was able to pull into a parking lot next door to my office.

I ran around my car to the passenger door and screamed "JERRY SLOAN I'LL SAVE YOU!"

Much to my surprise he was only a little shaken up and actually still in his bowl with about half of his water.

Also, I was lucky no one was standing outside watching me run around my car screaming about recently resigned NBA coaches.

My next thought was how to get the fishy home and unmarred.

I sat there staring at a very flustered Jerry Sloan and then WA-BAM! I knew exactly how to save my fish baby.

When I moved to college many moons ago my mother was INSISTENT that I bring my 72 hour kit and keep it in the trunk of my car.

It is essential to note that:

a) it takes up half of my trunk space.

b) I get mocked for it on a consistent basis.

c) I never thought I would need it.

Within the contents of my 72 hour kit is a small cooler. Perfect for fish transferring.

I popped open my trunk and there it sat: the fish mobile.

But when I opened it there was another unexpected twist in this plot.

Pistachios!

There was a half pound bag of pistachios in my cooler.

This was remarkable because I am allergic to pistachios.

But at this point I didn't care about pistachios so I threw the bag aside and placed Jerry in the cooler.

However, his little fish home was still a little wobbly.

If only I had something to cushion him. I thought.

WA-BAM!

The bag of pistachios.

And that is how Jerry Sloan the fish came home in a cooler padded by a half pound of pistachios, the very nut that once tried to ruin my life.

xo

P.s. Ace comes home in 3 days!

P.p.s. Thanks to Chantel who made me feel missed:)

She & Him + Happy Last Weekend Before School Starts

Last night I went to the free She & Him concert at Pioneer Park in SLC.

I love Zooey. Oh and the Him, too.

Limney, JC, and a very tired Me.

My brother Iz.

Iker being so studious. he couldn't stop reading "the worst book everrrr!"

My friends Shirty and Cute shoes. i wish i could remember their names. Worst friend everrr!

Stuck in an UBER sweaty/stinky crowd. can you see the bookworm in the back?

Not even a sweaty crowd could pull Iker's eyes from the pages of his book.

Me, Iks, and our friend Jess hanging out in the back.

Note: I was too busy singing and dancing and being short to get a good picture of the stage.

Have a good weekend!

xo

P.s. get your pencils sharpened! Schools starts on Monday for the Y.

College Advice

This post is for my very favorite Mary Dawn.

I found this advice on Oh Joy before I moved to BYU.

I think it's great advice.

1. Don't kiss lame boys even if they are a little cute. You'll regret it later.
2. Fall in love with someone new every single day. Crushes are new and exciting.
3. Don't sign up for credit cards or give personal information to anyone who wants it. It's not worth that free t-shirt or king sized Snickers bar they are offering.
4. If your friend dates a boy you hate, stay out of it.
5. Go to all the free lectures and activities they offer, even if you are busy and tired.
6. Throw lots of themed parties: Pink Party, Hair Party, Middle School Party.
7. Don't move home for the summer. You think it is a good idea because you miss it but after two weeks it will just be really depressing. Instead do an internship somewhere fun or get a job in an exotic locale.
8. Take art classes even if you aren't an art major. (This one might be me projecting my own regret.)
9. Don't get your hair done by the local hair school students. It will always end bad.
10. Make cookies every Sunday and take them to friends and cute boys. Do this especially when you get depressed or sad.
11. If you can't get in a class you want because it is full--don't take no for an answer.
12. Join clubs and maybe start one yourself.
13. If you get a job in college don't work too much. They are only paying you minimum wage. In five years you'll make quadruple that and your time in college is precious. Better to spend your time studying or working for free somewhere cool or doing an internship to further your career.
14. Go camping a lot and go on lots of road trips.
15. Find the girls that dress cool, make friends with them and ask them to help dress you. (speaking from experience here)
16. If it rains go dance in it.
17. Don't park illegally even for a minute. College campuses are crawling with meter maids who WILL GET YOU.
18. Get a Vespa.
19. Never schedule a class before 10am. Don't do that to yourself.
20. Watch lots of foreign films and go to lots of concerts even if you don't have the money. That is what college is for.

And for my own advice.

21. You're not the first Freshman who has felt overwhelmed. This too, my dear, shall pass.

22. If you need ANYTHING at ANYTIME of the day or night call me.

23. You're not going to get D's in all of your classes.

24. Zumba solves all of life's problems. Let's find a good class.

25. I'm soooo glad you live in Provo now.

xo

Spark...or a lack thereof

Last night I had my first Spark experience.

If you live in the Provo/Orem area and haven't made your way there

I have one question:

What are you waiting for?

As soon as we walked in I was giddy with excitement.

We were no longer in downtown Provo.

No, no, no.

We were in Manhattan, London, Paris.

Provo was just a memory.

With our Shirley Temples ordered from their completely non-alcoholic menu we chatted and giggled.

Mid-giggle the door opened and in walked a very unusual fellow.

He beelined toward us and then quickly changed his path to a settee just in front of our booth.

The waitress brought us three red bubbly glasses bedecked by a cotton candy flourishperfection,

I guess by this point the suspense was too much for him because he tried to saunter to us in a very James Bond kind of way.

I stuffed cotton candy in my mouth to keep myself from laughing.

I can't remember his opening line because I was busying myself with trying to keep my mouth shut.

I'm sure it was something suave.

He asked us what we would recommend.

It was a good thing it was my first time, because I felt I was off the hook from being a part of that conversation.

But then he sat down and turned our Night on the Town into some kind of a job interview.

"Where are you from?"

"What do you like to do?"

"Tell me what is your gwam?" okay, he didn't ask that. but he may as well have.

During the question answer portion of the night he would intermittently say our names is a very robocop manner.

"Sydney*. Annalisa. Uh, Sabrina." note. I was easily forgotten. could it be because I was stuffing my face with cotton candy?

Finally, he decided to bid us Adieu, but not without repeating our names one last time.

I guess from now on I'll actually have to get out of Provo to really get out of Provo.

xo

*Post Edit: I accidentally spelled Sydney's name Sidney. Until she reminded me in the comments section. Such a brat. Oh Limney, you know I love your guts.

Regret: Part Deux

Warning: If you are pregnant, become easily nauseated, or hate feet you probably should not read this post. Probably. Also you should not read this if you are eating food. Really.

As I mentioned in the previous post this weekend Iker and I went to Ben Folds.

And I also mentioned it was awesome.

Which it was.

How could it not be?

Ben Folds+ Utah Symphony+ Deer Valley Amphitheater= Flawless

What I somehow forgot to mention was the general splendor that surrounded us at said venue.

We decided to head up to the amphitheater before the doors opened because the old man I was with kept complaining about his feetsies and lower back.

However, I was soon grateful that Old Yeller insisted that we left for the amphitheater early, because there was already a line of colorful characters waiting at the gate.

Once they finally opened the gate Iker and I laughed at the people running up the hill like they were the first ones in the door on Black Friday.

There was even a guy with a rolly cooler that tried to book it over the bumpy hill.

When Iker and I made it through the gate we decided to run just a little ways so we didn't disappoint the other people waiting in line laughing at the crazy people running up the hill.

Once we had spread out our blankie and situated our loot we realized that although we had a reasonably good view of the amphitheater we also had a really good view of the sun that insisted on roasting our brains.

Eventually some strangers came by and we moved our blankie a little bit so they could fit theirs

next to ours. They even kindly watched our belongings when we went to the merch table/bathroom/mission to find an air conditioner.

So far, so good.

I'm not sure how long it was after we came back from our errands that things took a turn for disgusting.

We were in the middle of a rousing game of 20 questions when a mixture of repulsion and nausea crept onto Iker's face.

"What?"

"That guy has really flakey heels." He motioned to our friend on the blankie neighboring ours, "How do your heels even get that flakey?"

I looked at Iker with warning eyebrows because sometimes he doesn't realize that his voice travels and then we get ourselves into very uncomfortable situations. ehem, old navy.

We decided to abandon 20 questions for I spy.

Iker went first.

"I spy something flakey."

That was the end of that game.

Fortunately the concert started soon after and for reasons still unknown Flakey as he is affectionately known put socks on, thus saving Iker from staring at his feet for the remainder of the evening.

My regret isn't that I had to sit next to Flakey, it's that I didn't get the chance to refer him to my favorite pedicurist in stg.

xo

Regret.

This weekend Iks and I went to Park City for some Ben Folds and the Utah Symphony.

If you were wondering it was amazing!

We went up early in the day so we could just shoot the breeze in PC.

We ate some really good pizza. I realized it's going to be really hard to find the best pizza. This pizza could be a contender though. Then we walked through this art gallery where a lady with a fancy- off - of -the- shoulder- top and sweatpants tried to sell us a $3000 photograph I guess we looked richy rich. After we concluded that neither one of our bank accounts would allow such a purchase we walked down the street a little further until we found a tacky gift shop.

Immediately the universe drew us to a rack of women's pajamas with cartoon moose on them.

"Don't moose with me!" Iker read aloud.

Next came, "I moose have a hug."

And the classic "I don't do mornings." Though this one did not use a noun improperly it did have a classy image of a moose in pajamas.

Surprisingly, my regret is not that I did not buy the moose pajamas.

No, no.

After we exhausted all of our moose jokes we came upon some geodes...

these geodes were special.

They had little gold miners and animals glued on to them.

They were so realistic you could even see the glue still.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw a pink geode with two kittens fighting over a little crystal ball.

Before I knew it my inner kittens inspired by kittens broke out "We are fighting over crystal."

After a few more jokes that included a bass and other controversial animals we left the gift shop.

My regret didn't come until halfway through the concert.

Only in PC can you find such fine souvenirs.

I'll never let an opportunity like that pass me by again.

xo

P.s. I find that midwesterners often have a hard time differentiating between a moose and a buffalo. ily.

Saucy Sweet and Sour Seaside Pictures

Because I am hilarious this post echo's today's Cook post.

On Thursday we drove our little selves to Destin for some sand and salty water.

It was fun but a little crowded.

The next day after some shopping we headed to Seaside psst. they filmed the Truman Show there.

Can you say uh-mazing?

It was beautiful.

Here's some saucy, sweet, and sour pictures from the day.

Sweet: This is the ice cream cone of my dreams. I also like the creeper in the back.

Sweet: This was obviously a really good cupcake. (Jaclyn)

Sour: This was obviously a very sad moment. (Monica)

Sweet: Luckily, the cupcake lady took pity on her and gave her a new one. (Jaclyn and Monica)

Sour: Sometimes your face "accidentally" makes it into someone's picture of the charming post office. (Me)

Sour: Sometimes it happens twice. (Jaclyn)

Sweet: Look at these little beach bunnies! Don't you want to kiss those cheeks!?

Saucy/Sweet/Sour: Need I say more?

And this is my face...just in case you miss it:)

xo

Home Sweet Apartment

(My niece Sofia)

I'm back.

Cali was great!

I got to have some adventures with my family,

ate the BEST black bean veggie burger at the San Diego zoo,

got a lot of "I miss you" texts from some lovely people,

finally found the much coveted "floppy hat",

played the Monopoly card game,

and survived the San Diego airport all by my lonesome.

I would say the trip was a success.

Now to tackle the 3 tests and 2 papers on my to-do list...

xo

P.s. Isn't Sofia the silliest little peanut you ever saw? I dunno why she's making that face but I love it!

Au Revoir

This was my to-do list yesterday....

Somehow I made it through most of it.

And at 3:20 I will get on flight 4555 heading to San Diego.

Have a beautiful weekend!

xo

On Friday I fell in love...

with a man who had no head (typical me). 

Sadly, (because the Gap wouldn't allow such a thing) we had to part. And I may or may not have wished he had a head....

Happy Monday! 

xo

p.s. This trip to the gap wasn't completely heartbreaking. My toesies got a cozy surprise:)

Ikea

On Friday night I had my first Ikea experience. I must say it was life changing among other things. 

My favorite moments:

-Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes, and lingonberry sauce. Mmmm:)

-trying to figure out the use for superfluous sock dividers. "Who has twelve pairs of socks?"

-arguing over the ugliest bed in bedroom existence. 

-walking halfway through the store and then walking all the way back to use the bathroom.

-having the Ikea police follow us around the entire store. We must've looked suspicious. Or maybe it was because someone kept trying to put things in my purse?

-being really glad we bought the house with two kitchens.

-wondering where the water goes in a shower with no drain?

-staying until they nearly had to push us out of the store

-listening to "Boom, Boom, Pow" on the way home:)

Thanks, Ikear. We'll have to do it again. Maybe next time we'll actually buy what we went there for:)

Week One

This was my very first official week in Provo. Here's what I learned:
-a brand new blue towel makes for a blue Sabrina
-how to break into my apartment. It's pretty easy. Maybe I should consider a life of crime?
-there is such a thing as too many layers
-boys at church are really, really, really friendly. The amount of time they've been home from a mission=how desperate they are.
-blue skies and white snowy mountains make for a lovely morning
-creepy people work out at Gold's Gym
-creepy people walk behind you on your way home from school
-ice is slippery. I mean it.
-losing your keys is a lot like losing your identity
-a dead phone battery=a dead social life
-washing a new blue towel with your clothes is a really bad idea. Unless you want to look like you have Smurf blood all over you.
-soup is sometimes a bad idea
-if you smile at people on campus they think you want them
-Mac & Cheese can be a gourmet meal
-bookstore lines on the first day of school are like lines at Disneyland
-an apple can change your mood
-flannel sheets and a down comforter make for the best sleep ever
-expecting a miracle is the most realistic thing you can do

It's been a week of ups and downs. Mostly a crash course in learning to grow. I can't believe that I'm actually here. Hooray! for surviving week one!

My Fine Feathered Friend

Let me tell you a wonderful story about a chicken I named Ralphie(after the little boy in A Christmas Story. I know chickens are girls. Stop trying to ruin my story). After I finished my very last class at Dixie State college I drove to my sisters house so we could go to lunch and run some errands together. On my way to her house it started to snow. Not heavy and definitely not the kind that sticks, just a a little wispy snow. I pulled up to my sisters house and noticed a little figure moving close to a tree. At first I was pretty certain it was a little orange cat. Not so! It was indeed a chicken! Lost in a STG snowstorm. I told my sister I had something to show her and yanked her out in the snow to show her Ralphie huddled under a bush. Poor Ralphie. My sister tried to beckon Ralphie into her garage to no avail. Not even when she said "Come here, Chicken." She probably thought we were going to put her in my sisters oven.
So, back inside we went to get her ward directory to see if anyone knew who Ralphie belonged to. No one. So I called my friend Patrick who has some experience with these chicken-y situations. And I'm pretty sure he thought I was joking when I said "Hey how do you catch a chicken?" He said we were going to need a towel or a sheet to sneak attack and chicken-nap Ralphie. And then I realized there was no way my sister or I were going to be able to capture Ralphie in a towel. Treats! Of course! I then asked "What do chickens eat?" To which he replied "Is that a real question?" Apparently chickens like fruit and vegetables. I asked if chicken soup was out and he didn't think I was too funny. Then he told me it would be a terrible idea to try to lure Ralphie into the garage with treats because my sister would have chicken feathers and poop all over her garage.
"But what if he dies!" I protested.
"Then he dies. Don't you know how much a chicken costs? About as much as a carton of eggs!" To which I mumbled something about him being heartless. Poor, poor, Ralphie. After his grinchy heart grew three sizes, Patrick agreed to come rescue Ralphie if she was still outside after he got off work. Off we went to run errands, Ralphie huddled under the bush like a little orange rock. When my sister got home there was no Ralphie. No one knows where our little featherball has gone. I hope she's warm.

Post Edit: Patrick said that she probably got eaten by a dog. I said that Ralphie was too smart to get eaten by a dog "she was hiding under a bush for protection! Would you think of that?" He said "If I hid under a bush for protection you'd think I was retarded!" He has a point. But he's not a chicken. Nor does he care for them apparently.