the allenfix

HI AGAIN

2007-11-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

Don't worry, the void you had felt is filled again. All of the anguish and heartache caused by the recent lack of posting on the blog has come to an end. I was shocked, after having not written for a while, at the huge cry out for my voice to return. I mean, literally almost three people mentioned to me that no posts had been made. Wow. What an out cry. What a push for this blog to continue. For words to grace these pages and to make, once again, a place for the dozen people who have visited this site to find solice in my wisdom and life lessons. And, as my good friend Marci Simkins said, a place to see our kids. I am sure, she too wants to feast on the ramblings of a 6th year senior at a moderately priced and somewhat respected local University. Just to be sure however, I decided to use this particular post as an update for the fam. Here is a quick overview:

Cooper was born on August 1 and is doing awesome. He is such a good kid and has the biggest blue eyes I have ever seen. (my investigation into who exactly is the father is still underway but

Heather has been very uncooperative.

Charley is now 20 months and is the smartest kid of all time. She is very independent and is starting to repeat everything I say............I have been warned multiple times to "clean it up."

Heather is still teaching dance in Farmington at Studio 1 and loving it. She teaches 3 or 4 times a week so those are my nights with the kiddies. And for some reason the nights they decide to poop like Rhinos.

I have come back to Zions Bank and have loved the decision I have made. It is awesome to be back.

Here are some photos of the kiddies at Halloween and some random ones too. I took them with my new child, my IPHONE. He is by far the greatest son I could ever have.

PERU EARTHQUAKE

2007-08-19T14:52:00.000-06:00

I made concious effort to watch the news this week, and have never been more depressed. Between the miners in Utah and Japan, the war over seas, politicians not answering questions, and hurricanes ready to trounce on the US again, I remebered why I didn't like to watch it. It is so important to be informed but also mind boggling depressing. The low point came when I read about the earthquake in Peru. When I first saw the headline I looked more into it because I served a misison there, but as I read more in depth, I found that the hardest hit towns were not only in my misssion, but where I served for over a year. As I scrolled through the pictures I saw streets I walked on everyday reduced to piles of bricks and bodies. Theres was one shot imparticular, which i won't post, of bodies laid out, side by side, in the Plaza De Armas in the center of Chincha where I lived for almost 8 months.

The last two shots were from Chincha. The one is in the Plaza where they lined up for food and water and the second is a street leading away from that same plaza where I used to spend every pday.....and alot of other days...just ask Simkins. I read also that Pisco, a port town just north of Chincha, was so badly destroyed that up to 85% of the buildings in the center of the city were destroyed including a large Catholic Church which as holding a funeral at the time of the quake and was completed destroyed. It is a horrible and sad thing and I can only hope they can find a way to rebuild when they literally have nothing.

COOPER

2007-08-19T14:34:00.000-06:00

Here is the first picture I took of Cooper after he was home. Just look at the way I captured his essence through my Motorola Phone. Given the lacking quality of the shot, let me clear up a few things about the boy;

He doesn't have yellowish-orange skin, he does have a neck, and he is the best looking boy ever born. He looks allot like Heb and has her dark skin and hair. Heather was great during labor and that long day at the hospital. Of course she says she wouldn't have felt anything if you had stabbed her through her thigh she was so drugged up. Coop was 7 lbs 14 ozs, born on August 1 at 11:05pm which was great because it is also my late Grandma Hill's birthday so right away he became my mom's favorite grandchild.

Here is Charley deciding whether or not an old Nintendo Controller tastes better than the new ones.

I don't know why I like this shot so much but I though her eyes looked awesome. Somewhere she got blue eyes and auburn hair from the two of us. We aren't sure where.......but.....wait......the mailman is a blond..........crap....

BABY BOY

2007-07-25T13:59:00.000-06:00

The light at the end of the tunnel is getting larger with every slow and agonizing step. We can see the finish line. The end is a new beginning. Mi esposa esta listo para romper. These are all nice and surprisingly motivational ways to say that Heather is about to pop. We saw Dr. Sumsion, who would be my favorite man of medicine since the white guy from Scrubs if he were just a Utah fan. He said everything is going great and that if the boy hasn't made it south by Aug. 6, he will induce. But he said all is well, he looks healthy, Heather is fantastic, and that is a pretty normal pregnancy. I maybe should have mentioned to him not to say these fantastic words of loving support to Heather who has been having contractions that have measured on many Richter scales throughout the Wasatch Front.

She has officially run out of space in her slight frame and is trying to find somewhere else to put the large basketball now gracing her mid section. Her skin is thin enough that you can actually put a light behind her and watch Cooper (which is what we are naming him) wriggle and squirm. It has been a much different pregnancy than Charley ever was. She is now just over 18 pounds and closing in on 17 months so she is officially the smallest kid known to man kind. Cooper is so big now that he is apparently in the womb doing push ups, reciting the alphabet, shaving, and learning to tap dance. Sumsion said to be prepared for how far along he is cause when he was looking with the microphone for the babies heart beat he said "hey, whats up Sumsion, where's Dad?" and then rolled over and went to sleep.

But he is doing really well. We had, however, been bummed out that we hadn't seen him much latley due to the lack of ultrasounds during this pregnancy. So we decidedand it would be fun to go to one of those 3-D Ultrasound places and get a few shots of him and wanted to share those with you. Here if my personal favorite;
I think he looks like me but Heather says the curly hair is all her side. No matter. What does matter is that he looks great and happy. We got that good of a shot on the first try too.

So as the baby draws near we are getting everything together. New car seat for Charley (even though she is still way under the weight limit for her old infant seat) new boy clothes, new crib bedding, and the beauty part is, its all blue. For those of you familiar with the Disney cartoon version of Sleeping Beauty, I am only because I have a daughter.....and I am sticking with that story. There is a scene in which two of the fairies have a fight over what color the dress they are making for the pricess should be, pink or blue, and continually flash their wands making the color change from one to the other. Welcome to my reality. Everything has duplicated and changed from a bright Charley Pink to a cool Cooper Blue and it is great to have both around. We can't wait to have him here and will post millions of photos as soon as the boy comes along.

CONFESSIONS OF A MID-TWENTIES MIND

2007-07-20T14:41:00.000-06:00

It is not easy to open up for me. I find that holding things in is easier than actually communicating with people and telling them how I feel. I have heard in a lot of my communication classes, which ironically is my problem and also what I am majoring in, that opening up and communicating is the key to living a happy and healthy life. It's bad for the body, mind, and spirit to keep emotions and thoughts in because eventually, whether you want them to or not, they will come out and most likely not in a positive way. Since this theory is both proven and true, I am forcing myself today to come out with what may be the most difficult and most terrifying confession of my close to 27 years here on earth. I want to thank you in advance for being conscious of my feelings and allowing me this stage to present these emotionally stressful items of shame as to not lose myself to the unconscious emotional outbursts that would inevitably follow.

That shocking confession is that I am a Harry Potter fan. Not just fan mind you, but one of the obnoxious hoards that flock to Barnes and Noble at midnight to purchase a book that portrays a young, fictitious boy as a wizard with a harsh beginning to his tortured life. I am one of those who buys their movie tickets months in advance and then stresses out weeks prior to the opening of the movie as to whether or not they will double book the seat or, heaven forbid, there will indeed be a freak monsoon that demolishes the theatre killing hundreds and royaly screwing up my Harry Potter plans. I luckily am not one who dresses up as a character from the beloved series. Nor do I attempt to dissect what each character represents in society, make people call me by one of the characters names, or practice spells during my daily routine (except for when I walk in front of an automatic door say at the grocery store and recite, a hardly audible, "alohamora".....how else will the door open if I don't through the spell at it for pete's sake?).

(This is a picture of the Harry Potter cow by the way. Fly bessy.......Fly!!!)

I wasn't always like this. I once thought the whole concept of Hogwarts was a waste of time that was meant for kids, young adults, and possibly the mal-adjusted adult that wears a sweater in the middle of summer and still listens to his Sony Walkman with the headphones shinning with the metal wire strapped across his head. But it was not until soon, after the second movie came out and I was forced, at gun point by my own mother, to read the books did I fully understand and appreciate the remarkable phenomenon, yes, phenomenon, that is the world of Harry Potter.

The reason I am telling you this now, only hours before the final instalment of Potter is to hit the hands of all of the anticipating Potterians (a word I claim as my own) in long lines all over the world is because last night was the first time I realized just how deep into this I had fallen. It was like any other Thursday and we were enjoying the company of my sister and her family when she had the brilliant idea to make Butterbeer and Pumpkin Pasties for a snack. If you don't know what these are than you are dead to me. She found the recipes and she brewed a potion so aromatic that it brought forth the wizard in each one of us. We hit the plateau of Harry Potterness. We ate what wizards eat. We walked where wizards walk. We spent a few magical moments combining our worlds to theirs through the savory taste of treats from a different land. Alright, i admit, over the top. I get it. But I know now, not through being ashamed or embarrassed by this situation, but by my now outward obsession that I am one of the few who truly love this series of books and movies. One who will defend it to the death. One who will if necessary, kill who ever speaks out against the imaginative world of underage wizards and their ridiculously dangerous lives.

Thank you for listening. I know that the situation may be unhealthy but so is storing these demons inside. Live on Harry Potter, as you live on in my imagination.......I do hope he dies at the end though. That would be cool.

THE ATWOOD EFFECT

2007-06-27T11:09:00.000-06:00

These are just a couple of pictures sent to me by the magic of picture mail. They were thanks to Heathers sister Melissa Atwood (or Mrs. Atwood as she like to be called now that she teaches at Woods Cross High.....which is a little over the top if you ask me) and the effect she and her family have on Charley.

Melissa did actually give her a spoon for this pudding but says she didn't know that Charley would acually use her face as a kitchen utensil.

We are taking care of the Atwoods two daughters Taylor and Jess and their awesome American Bulldog named Koda while they are in Hawaii. Last night Charley and Koda bonded. This is just after Charley taught Koda to play peek-a-boo. She is the strongets dog I have ever seen but when she gets around kids she is basically content to be a big pillow.

Every Tuesday is park day when all of Heathers sisters (and now both of mine) and a few of their friends go a different park and let all the kids loose do their best to murder each other using nothing but playground equipment, wood chips, and raw strength. Charley always managers to end up playing with her buddy Drew (my sister Kim's son) who is only 5 days older than she is. They love hanging out. Please notice the size difference here. But size in this case doesn't matter because she is deadly with the wood chips.

VISUALIZE

2007-06-08T21:15:00.001-06:00

I am getting ready for a hopeful interview for one of the best jobs that I could imagine. It is one of those positions that you hear of but don't really believe you can ever actually get. It has been a three week stress-fest which may rival the anxiety of leaving on a mission, having a child, or getting a physical from a female nurse practitioner who was once up for Miss Utah. Yes, when I say physical, I mean full physical....cough, cough. But that is a story for another day. I am in the stages of waiting to hear if I do, in fact, get a chance at an interview. These folks are famous for only interviewing two people and the only reason for that is cause they have to make it look fair. I really want this job. It would be the perfect stepping stone for what I want to do with in banking. Its where I want to work, working with the people I want to work with, and dealing with the clients who I love. I am so anxious to get in there and state my case that I can't sleep and the only thing I can eat is coke and low fat Rits cracker chased down by the occasional bowl of strawberries that cleans out my colon so much that I have to have more Ritz. I keep hearing the same thing though. Its the same piece of advice from each of the people who offer it. Its BE POSITIVE. I am to the point where there is literally nothing more I can do but wait. I have networked my networks, emailed my emails, and put curses on those who are going up against me. The only thing left to be is positive. So in that light I thought I would use one of my wives favorite techniques of visualizing. She will put her dance students in a room and lie them down on their backs on the floor, play the music to any given dance and tell them to visualize each move as if the were doing it perfectly. She tells them that if they visualize it, that is how it will come out on stage. What a great way to be positive and see yourself do things well. I thought that was a great idea so I decided to visualize my possible interview. Hopefully you find this little experiment interesting enough to join in with me. So here goes:

I know the people I will be meeting with and have been to the office multiple times so I can see it clearly as I pull up to the three story building in downtown Ogden. I step out of the car where I parked on the street just across from the main doors. I am wearing my new, form fitting dark navy blue suit, a crisp white shirt, an off white tie that makes the girls faint it is so breathtaking (don't worry Heather, like I said I am only visualizing). I have my dark brown folder in my hand as I straighten my gleaming tie and take my first steps toward destiny in my shinning black, polished, square toed shoes. I get across the street to the cobblestone walkway leading to the doors and stop a foot away from the gleaming glass where I see my reflection. Man, what a sweet tie. I know this is it. I know walking through these doors is my next step toward destiny. I take a deep breath, reach out a sweaty hand, and give a firm push. As I step in the door all of the sudden the world goes into slow motion and I hear and feel the strong bass beat of Justin Timberlakes hit "I'm Bringing Sexy Back". The lights go off and a single spot light off in the distance shins on me as I take each slow, confident step toward the open doors across the elevator...."I'm bringing sexy back...yep"...the song bumps on as my lips purse in a confident snarl and my eyes narrow into a melting stare. The slow motion continues as I walk into the elevator, stop, turn......."So turn around and I'll pick up the slack"......the doors creep closed with a close up on my face, staring back dead center into the lens. Up I go, pulling my head slowly upward to see the climbing numbers....1....2....3.... as I go up to the third floor. Doors open. I step out with an almost defiant step and turn to look down the long hall way with offices lining each side. Lights begin to flash to the heavy bass beat picks up strength and the slow motion starts to fade. I button up my suit, slick down my tie, look up, as the beat picks up to normal. The slow motion fades completely and puts me into a quick step and my head moving up and down to the beat. I start down the hall stepping hard to the beat...."dirty babe, you see these shackles baby I'm your slave".....people start coming out of their offices to see me strut and get a glimpse as each step to the beat puts me one more step closer to destiny. The people reach out just to touch me on the arm as I move by, seeing that this is the guy who will be offered this job..."I'm bringing sexy back"....I pound the last few steps with the rhythm being my guide and reach the door to my interviewers office. The slow motion returns as the instrumental part of the song rolls on like a freight train, I slowly turn my head to the side to look straight into the camera. A small, confident smile crosses my lips, a slow nod moves my head up and down as my hand forms a fist and climbs with a purpose to knock on the door.......

Crap. I think I screwed that up. I guess I should have thought more about the interview. I may have gotten a little carried away on the entrance. Hopefully the interview went as good as my walk to the office. Seriously though. Maybe if everyone is positive and puts out the vibe....Matt, stop right there....I know you are putting your hand on the nearest counter top, leaning over, and sticking out your butt like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber. Just stop it. I don't want or ever need that vibe from you. But lets hope it all goes well and I will bring sexy back...i mean get that job.

WHERE DO YOU FIT IN?

2007-05-14T15:53:00.000-06:00

Finding where you fit in is something that shouldn't be this hard. From the first days of life we are figuring out where we belong, who our friends are, what foods we like, what interests us, and in my case, what i want to do for the rest of my life. we fight tooth and nail to discover what we are made of, goals we need to accomplish, and where we want to be at the end of it all. Through my extensive research and deep thought of say.....a half-hour, i have come up with a conclusion that there are in fact three types of people in this world.
1- The Ambitious.
This shouldn't be mistaken for used car salesman who want to hear themselves speak more than the want to eat, breath, or actually get you into a running automobile. But these ambitious people are the ones who figure out where they want to be, plan out a way to get there, and have the cajones to actually do it. They look at a challenge and whether or not they see the end anywhere in sight, and even with the obvious knowledge of how much they truly don't want to do some of the things they have to and how hard the work will actually be, they push on and not only complete their goals but usually exceed them.
Great people. Successful. Happy....and I despise each and every one of them. Where do they get off having a good work ethic and being goal oriented? Its these people that when you look up at the hill in Bountiful or anywhere else you are driving and see one of those homes that you aren't sure if the Johnson family lives there or its actually the summer home of the Pope and you wonder how in the world someone actually lives like that. These are the people that you inevitably get paired up with on the golf course and find out that not only did they indeed pull up in that huge Hummer in the parking lot, but could double for Tiger their swings are so pure and smooth and the ball actually flies straighter than any ones you have ever seen. They always have the best attitude and try to talk you off your golf induced ledge when things start to go bad around hole number 2. Can't stand them.
2- The Middle of the Road.
This includes most people. A group of average working Joe-shmoes who live each day in blissful mediocrity. They have middle class homes on middle size salaries, a nice sedan or SUV, with a medium size family of five. They have figured out that they want to provide well for their families but didn't exactly have a plan to get their. They have found along the way varying ways to gain enough to do this but it usually has taken 4 or 5 job moves to do so. None the less they have gotten to a point where they have a decent 401k, a great family, a sometimes lacking lawn care system, but a good life.
As for this group.....I hate them too. Where do they get off? Just because you have a decent work ethic and have a sometimes unsettling good attitude that right around the corner there is another opportunity doesn't give you the right to get them. You have seen them driving down the road in their mini vans with their DVD players showing their remarkably intelligent elementary school children images of Disney cartoons and dancing Australian Men in bright colored shirts. Just because you have worked so hard and can finally afford a boat doesn't mean you have to have it parked on your driveway all year long.
3- The Bottom Feeders.
Don't let the name fool you........cause it shouldn't. It means exactly what it says. These "laid back" folks are only using that term because "lazy A#@" was already taken. They have absolutely no clue where they want to go and who they are. They have had an average of 12 jobs between the ages of 15 and 19 and most of those have had the name "burger" or the word "lube" somewhere in the title. Each day for them isn't a new chance to excel like the others, but a chance to see what they can get out of or get away with without actually going to jail. The men group usually have on old jeans that have to be at least 13 sizes to small so that when they turn around it strikes fear into your heart for what you might see. Their hair is un-kept to show off how chill they are (but in actuality it took them twice as long as it took you this morning). You may have guessed it but I am going to say it anyway.......Can't stand them. They are folks who don't have it together and don't have a clue. They wander around looking for the easy way out and the smallest work load possible. They turn into complaining old men who forget what the point of it all was and who yell at little kids for kicking a ball onto their un-kept front yards. They talk about how they have been screwed out of things their whole lives and how so and so had it better but put out the same effort. I have news for you pal. If they have it better now it is because they put in the effort then.
Now the question. Where in this mess of goals, attitudes, and life choices do you fit in? Are you one of those who make goals and go for it or who wait for it to be given to you on a silver platter?
You may be wondering why exactly the subject of this entry is what it is today. Why the serious idea of progressing in life toward the right place. Its simple really. It is extremely easy and obvious if you really think about it. The reason that this subject is on my mind is simply because I don't have a clue where to put myself. I know where I want to be (income), don't know how to get there (job), don't necessarily want to do everything it takes to get there (finish this horrid adventure they call school), and don't know what I have been doing about it. I don't where tight jeans, have a million dollar home, yell at little kids or have a DVD player in my car. I have no doubt in my mind what the important thing in life is and that is family. I thought I had it figured out but since I have started have kids with my amazing wife, I didn't really have a clue. But the rest of the stuff seems like a mean Sudoku game with all the things going on in my life trying to fill in the the right spaces and inevitably not having room to do so. I guess in time it will come out and I will figure out the whole thing. I will find out what I am made of and go as far as I possibly can and hopefully even farther beyond that. But in case it doesn't, in case it isn't meant to be and the life I hope for doesn't quite add up I want you all to know that it wasn't my fault, my jeans aren't too tight, and you need to get the hell of my lawn!!!

THE CONFUSED WOODSMAN

2007-05-07T11:15:00.000-06:00

I thought I would take today to help a group of people that apparently need some assistance. A group of hard working folks that are handy with a chainsaw, but not with common sense. Men and women who can can cut through wood like it was butter but can't saw through that mental barrier to the largest tree of all called "thought".

Today a "tree guy" decided that all those large oak trees growing inside our house were a disgrace and thought, or didn't think at all, that he would be a nice guy, try all of the doors to our house, including the back door that sits behind a six foot high wooden fence, and cut them down. Sounds strange I know because last time I checked we didn't have any oak trees inside the house that needed to be removed.......or that existed at all.

At around 10 am a gentlemen, a word I use with as much sarcasm as possible, who removes trees and has absolutely no sense of direction ended up at the wrong house to give out a bid. An understandable mistake and one easily overcome. But instead of doing what most humans do and ring the doorbell he decided to head for the back door and try to open it. When that was locked he than tried the front but to no avail. With our 10lb. guard dogs on watch, the same ones this man was yelling at and hitting the glass to annoy, Heather was alerted to the man and his car which was mysteriously parked on the opposite side of the house down the street, and noticed that he went for the "I'll just go on in" approach instead of the more time consuming "ring the doorbell like a human being who is not a criminal" one.

Heather understandably called the police and my self and we both arrived at the same time. I went in to check on heather, alerted my parents, and then proceeded to approach the creepy beige bronco down the street. When the guy said he was there to do a quote on tree removal I said he would have to remove one very soon which would be in a very uncomfortable place if he ever tried to get in our house again. When he claimed that he was at the wrong home and never once tried to get in but knocked several times, the police checked it out and sent him on his way. I however beleive this to be the largest load of crap ever to be seen since dinosaurs ruled the earth. I am not saying he was a criminal mastermind or that he even had a mind, but how many tree guys do you know who spend their time figiting with door knobs before a job?

Heather is fine but was most definetley freaked out. Being six months pregnant and having a sleeping 15 month old in the other room make for a very vulnerable situation. If this happened 10 times I would tell her to call the police 10 times.

So here are my thoughts for tree removers out on the job:

1- Don't be afraid to ring the door bell. It is there because it is our friend. The last time I checked it wasn't against the law like, I don't know, breaking into the house might be.

2- Double check you addresses. I know 4 digits in a row plus a street name can be a tough load to handle but i know with a little determination and effort, you two can figure them out.

3- Fences are there for a reason. I am sure that "boundaries" and "private property" and even "breaking and entering" are all just strange concepts that don't make a lot of sense but still lets try to follow them. We fear what don't understand but we must try none the less.

4- Park in front of the house. This one I know is confusing but look at the bright side; if you park in front of the house with a car that has you logo or name on it, 9 times out of 10 people will trust you. If you drive up slowly in an unmarked beige bronco and park down the street on the back side of the house it could be miss construed as a mass murder/stalker type of action as opposed to the helpful one you are going for. Like cutting down those pesky inside-the-house-oak trees that are so common.

All in all a pretty exciting day. Its amazing the "what if's" that come up in those situations. For example what if Heather had just walked outside to ask the guy what he was doing and he went on his way? What if she did that and he was trying to break in and hurt her? What if one of the doors had been unlocked; what would he have done? What if I took a tree stump and smacked him over the head with it for scaring our family half to death? Yep.....what if?

BOY

2007-04-06T09:03:00.000-06:00

For those of you who haven't' heard, we are having a BOY! That's right ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, impregnators of all ages. Timothy Allen, this mild mannered reporter from the city of Motropolis....sorry....I mean this kind of hyper banker guy from Bountiful has done it. He has created a male fetus so manly that when the ultrasound technician looked to see the sex of the baby she said, and this is a direct quote mind you, "Wow....its a boy!" That's right. She actually said Wow. So manly was this child that the nurse, who I am sure sees thousands of babies of year, used the word Wow. In the words of the great thinker Homer, who has contributed so much to the world of thought and mind bending philosophy, upon finding out that his unborn child was in fact a male..."and what a boy!" It was Homer Simpson and what he was actually looking at was his sons umbilical cord but oooohhh do I know how he feels.

With the visit to the hospital and other doctor visits it made me realize just how much Heather, Charley, and I have been in the hospital. Last year Heather had Charley, then had to go in for surgery later in the year. Charley had to have tests done to try to figure out exactly why so is such a mini. (obviously everything is going great and nothing was wrong because she is growing and developing great and now walking) And to finish out the year on a high note, I had my appendix out on Christmas Day. Each visit was basically the same. No matter what hospital you are in or what you are in for it all kind of feels the same way. The exception for me was when I went in for my appendix. I think I will share that story. Mainly cause I can and you can't stop me.

For the few days leading up to Christmas I had been feeling a little uncomfortable in my lower stomach. I figured it was indigestion from something, or everything, that I had eaten over the holidays. Christmas morning however I started waking up every hour on the hour and the pain kept getting worse. Before I know it my in-room nurse Heather had me jumping up and down and pushing in and out on my all ready sore stomach. I don't know if any of you have ever jumped up and down at 3 am, on Christmas, while grunting every time you hit the ground due to random stomach pain but I highly recommend it....good times.

So since Heather was convinced at this point that it was in fact my appendix we headed off to the hospital at 5 am to celebrate the Holiday. After a series of tests and hanging out in an empty emergency room the doctor ordered a cat scan to make sure that I did have an inflamed appendix.

Everyone who has had a cat scan please raise your hands. For those who haven't its important for you to know that it is not enough for them to simply put you under a large, rotating machine that looks at your innards. First they start you off with a lovely beverage, of sorts, and give you a time fram of forty-five minutes to drink it. That should have tipped me off right there that this was going to be bad because if you ever have a time frame in which to pound something down, it automatically means it is going to tastle like dirt. This beverage was basically a milky white substance in a 20 oz bottle that says Orange Flavored on it. Drinking this was like shoving down ground up chalk mixed with water and milk flavored with an expired orange Gatorade powder. Fear factor had nothing on me. By the time I finished the one bottle that took an entire half an hour to drink thanks to a little thing called a gag reflex and having to get over it, I thought the worst had past, tell the nurse brought me seconds. I kept trying to get Heather to pour some of it down the sink or put it in the garbage can but she said she wouldn't be an accomplice to a crime. I told her the real crime was forcing me to drink that crap and she said to stop being so dramatic.

So off to the cat scan where they laid me on the table with the Star Trek Cat Scan machine hummed and whirled. Where they inject iodine into your body which makes you feel warm from head to toe and had convinced me that I did in fact pee my pants. Then the ship you up stairs to wait for a doctor to tell you that it is inflamed and your surgery is going to be at noon. I told them that we knew the appendix needed out and that they were just being vindictive by making me drink that crap.

So the surgery went great. I woke up a few ounces lighter and couldn't believe when I got up and walked around how empty the floor was. There were only a few rooms occupied and it didn't dawn on me at the time that they were all filled with women. Women who up until a few hours ago were pregnant. All of which had given birth and were now on the recovery floor.....oh crap......this is the maternity floor. GREAT! The staff figured since it was Christmas and there was no one in the hospital it would be easier for the staff up there to watch me. I guess in a way I did give birth. They took my baby away and I never really got to bond with it but they can never take that proud feeling away of having brought a life into the world.

Luckily for me this day did have a good ending in that I got to head home around 10pm and spend an hour or so with Heather and Charley on her first Christmas. If anything it will be a memorable one. I could have done with out my sister Kim video taping the whole thing, the maternity ward, or drinking Satan's cat scan potion, but being able to open presents with my little fam. made the whole day worth it.......and all the morphine.

SCIENCE FAIR

2007-04-02T08:18:00.000-06:00

I noticed that the time has come in every child's life that they look forward to the most. A time when poster board, magic markers, and scotch tape flow like the great Mississippi River. The moment in which a youngster is brought forth to confront each of his school mates in a comparison fest which pits oneself against the rest. A chance for the smart to shine and the not so smart, to.....uhmm....show what great little personalities they have. It is Science Fair time. Yep. Geekdoms way to allow each individual child to out shine the other and give an opportunity for the "athletically challenged" kid to stand out.

I am all for things like "Science Fairs", or "Spelling Bees", or "Book Reports", or "Reading", or even the occasional time to "Think". I think its an important chance to be-little even the sweetest and innocent of youngsters. I, however, have not had such success with these over my lifetime. I have looked the Science Fair animal in the face and turned to run like a scared little girl. To help with a possibly large (or larger than normal) therapy bill, I would like to share with you a few highlights from my life as a project reject.

My first experience with Science Fairs was at the old Dillworth Elementary in Salt Lake City (before it was torn down and rebuilt as a high security, pentagon type building that could double for the University of Utah it is so huge.) I had just read a powerful book about gold fish, I was in the third grade when gold fish were more to me than just stinky centerpieces. (mom knows what I mean). I thought that I would do something with my new found expertise in the realm of fresh water creatures. Since I didn't have any gold fish myself, I thought a perfect substitute would be those tasty crackers that my sweet Grandma always let me shovel into my gaping hole of a mouth, sometimes pausing to do things like breath.

The night before the project was due, because as we know, greatness is born out of necessity and the ability to procrastinate until the very last second, I set out to prove that no one could guess how many gold fish were shoved into an empty peanut butter jar. Such a quality thesis, I thought, would most likely win me not only a blue ribbon, but the love and respect of classmates throughout the school and community. But as I presented and realized the my science fair project was not so much a science breakthrough but more of a snack, I realized I was in trouble. The teacher must have thought I needed some tough love and proceeded to hack into my gold fish experiment like Paul Bunyan into a tree. To soften her up I calmly said that there was more to it. When she doubtingly asked what, I said "refreshments" and handed out my science fair project, one per student, to the entire class.

Other experiments would follow in later years. There was the potato gun that didn't shoot anything but my dreams.....down. The time when I set out to prove to my third teacher Miss McBride that I could, and most effectively, read minds. Apparently I was only good at finishing the last line of peoples sentences which she told me in the most effective way with a well earned "needs improvement" on the grade sheet. And the other highlight was when, as usual, the night before the sixth grade science fair, I was yet to pick a project. Lucky for me my mom had forgotten about a block of cheese in the back of the fridge which had gained a slight case of mold. I assume you can guess what ensued. Lets just say a piece of poster board, two blocks of cheese (one moldy, one I later ate for lunch) and a smile later, another well earned "C" was posted and my life goal of proving that Cheddar cheese gets moldy faster than Swiss was more than accomplished. (It could have been the other way around but the cheddar was the moldy one.)

So I say reach for the stars young people. Look science in the face and let it know who his daddy really is. Whether its gold fish, cheese, or the power of the human brain, be all you can be. Because no matter what the project, no matter how hard you work, no matter how important a find, you can hold that ribbon high so the powerful words may shine for all to see and you may find that those magical three words act as a beacon of encouragement for future science greats; "SCIENCE FAIR PARTICIPANT."

HEEL ME PLEASE!

2007-03-26T08:25:00.000-06:00

Everything I believe in is now being tested. The sky no longer seems so blue, the earth so beautiful, the coke so sugary....but I think that is because I am on my fourth and its only 8:26 in the morning. I was so excited for the tournament this weekend to see who would make it into the final four that I could hardly see straight. My whole work week had been a prelude to this weekend when the top eight teams would go at it and allow me a few hours to scream, yell, and otherwise embarrass my self half to death even though my real team's season was over about a month ago.

But as the Tarheels took the floor yesterday and decided with about 10 minutes to go that their season was apparently over, I was perplexed. From what I had known about sports and in my experience in athletic competition, during a game, especially when you are in the lead, it is important to CONTINUE TO PLAY. I didn't realize it was now socially acceptable within athletic circles to do all but change into street clothes, start studying for midterms and go out to the corner Dominoes for a pizza! They literally turned a ninety-four foot basketball court into a 50 foot walk-a-about as they only shot threes, didn't rebound, and let G-town to the hope more times then Koby Bryant shoots in any given game.......which lately can only be counted by computers from NASA its so friggin' high.

The saving grace from this catastrophe was that I, and I admit, hypocritically so, had picked the Georgetown upset in my family brackets. And by some strange quirk of fate, I had also picked UCLA over Kansas giving me a perfect final four. So in other words I had a cushion of gloating and self absorption to break my fall from the embarassing North Carolina loss.

I sent out an email to my family and friends to let them know about this Blog so that more people might stop by and make it look respectable. Apparently I am not as loved or as popular as once thought because, other than Brett and my bro. Matt, I am as baran as the Mojave. (not in that sort of perverted way that you are all thinking....we KNOW that's not a problem given our track record with pregnancy. I have it down to such a science that all I have to do is think about having a baby and Heather is pregnant.) But I will keep posting if anything just to give me the opportunity to blab about what ever I fell like........for instance potato salad. There are so many different types: mustard based, mayo based, onions, no onions, the one with the hard boiled egg in it......some days I like it, other days I want to use it as weather stripping because it is so thick and nasty. That potato salad.....weired stuff.

We find out what Guppy is on Wednesday. I will try to post the ultrasound pict. so everyone can see what a huge boy it is or if its a girl, how lovely and feminine a fetus can really be.

Have a great day.....oh who am I kidding, the Heels laid an egg and Mondays suck.

Tournament

2007-03-22T12:48:00.000-06:00

I think my blog sucks. Yep. Pretty sure it does. I spent the better part of lunch trying to figure out what in the world I am doing and the only things I realized was that

1. Chinese food is getting harder and harder to digest

2. I am officially incompetent with a computer

I have been trying to convince Heather to buy a Mac buts lets be honest, that would be like giving a three year old a 12 gauge and saying have fun. Nothing good can come from it. I should only be trusted with one of the old apple computers that we got to use in Elementary school. I was so skilled at Number Munchers and the Oregon Trail. I only died of cholera once and when it came to hunting down the deer, I was a dead eye. But now with things like "digital cameras" and "hard drives" and "power buttons" I am lost. This morning I turned on my computer and the screen was still black. "Whats going on" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "My computer broke" I screamed out to our IT lady named Vicki. When I realized that I just had not pressed the power button on the monitor I faked that a cable was unplugged and that I had figured it out. Where is a number muncher when I need one? Sorry about the name calling Vicki.

I really don't plan on posting twice everyday but since this is still a new thing that I am getting a hold of I figure I will post whenever the heck I feel like it and you can't do anything to stop me so stop yelling.

I am really excited for this years NCAA tourney. To me up to this point it has been somewhat of a yawn fest I will admit. Nothing like last years when every game seemed close and the top seeds weren't necessarily rolling through. The women's tourney started looking pretty good to me the other night as i was watching Kansas score 1,395 points in their opening round game. And for to anyone who knows me, that is definitely saying something considering I consider ladies basketball one step above getting my appendix removed on Christmas Day. (which did happen and to be honest, thinking it over, I would do it again to avoid watching women's basketball) However tonight the sweet sixteen starts and I can't wait. Deep down I am little bitter in that I am a Ute fan and i still get emotionally and physically sick when it comes down to their trip in the late nineties to the championship game. Up by ten late in the second half against Kentucky and then Scott Padgett decides he was a player and starts hitting threes from his moms house in Palooka. (That's really far away) He later played for the Jazz for about 5 minutes and every time of the three times he played I booed. Punk.

I honor of the team I am rooting for that is still in the tourney and for my brother-in-law Mark "the tarheel" Tolman, I wanted to show a tribute to the man-child Tyler Hansborough who was the victim of the cheap shot of the year. In fact, since I am a huge fan of absolutely useless polls, we will take a one:

who is the real man here?

I'll give you a hint, its not the one starting to cry and also not the one with a freaky looking Greg Paulos looking bewildered behind him. I actually used to like Duke. But now lets be honest, whats the point. Not only do they suck, but Shire looks like his dog just got shot in front on him on his birthday. Of course I would probably have crawled up in the fetal position asking for someone to kill me if I had taken a shot that bloodied my up like that. But for the sake of my argument, let's just continue to call him the pansy that he is and leave it at that.

Go Heels and have a great Thursday, Thursday, Thursday.

First Days

2007-03-22T08:56:00.000-06:00

I have to admit I hate first days. First days at school, first day at a new job, first day when you figure out that you are now wide as you are tall. Luckily for me I am not quite to that point but I am sure it has just got to be horrible. I hate the feeling of the unknown and awkwardness of being somewhere unfamiliar and not knowing exactly how to act or what to say. Setting up this page is a different kind of first day. Its a rebirth upon the shadows of earths giving sense of........wooo. I got caught up.
I have to admit that this whole idea of posting my own random thoughts and ideas on a blog wasn't one that I came to on my own. I was bored at work the other day; I know what you are thinking, working at a bank must be so exciting, how could I be bored? I know right? It really is a thrill a minute but sometimes boredom can sneak up on you. I decided to google a few of my old buddies to see if I could find anything on them. To my surprise I found two friends whos blogs made me think what a wonderful idea it would be to try this out. Brett Crockett and Scott Brown. The best memory I could share with you about Brett and Scott is when we spent an entire summer turning Brett's garage into "The Lounge". It consisted of an old curch pew, pinball, dart board, tv with an original Nintendo where some of the most intense battles of Contra known to man kind were ever fought. We had a community fridge and a "donation jar" so we could all chip in and buy things for it. It was some of the funnest times I had growing up and if their ideas are still as good as they were before, this has got to have something to it as well.
Plus it gives me something to do at work instead of staulk my old friends.
Hopefully this works out and it will give me a way to write down things that I can't really say. Like papapafiifififigi-hhahahaboo. That would really be hard.