One Size Fits All When I'm Angry?

As would be expected, I was discussing the newest "Twilight" movie with some co-workers today. {No, I haven't seen it. Yes, I will. And no, I don't care if you make fun of me for it.}

We were laughing over the fact that people who haven't read the books must be really perplexed {or really grateful} about why the guys who play the wolves never wear shirts. I'm no expert or fanatic, but Ms. Meyer does give a few reasons in the books {extremely high body temperatures, suddenly morphing into a wolf destroys clothing, blah blah blah semi-nakedness}.

Needless to say, we get a lot of this:

in the movies.

So, one co-worker mentioned how in the books it explains how the wolf-boys sometimes strap their pants to their legs when they know they're going to morph. You know, so they can be modest when they're humans again. Because as we would all just figure out, giants wolves are not going to be the same size as boys {even muscle-bound ones} and so their pants/shorts would just get obliterated during the transforming.

And this made me wonder . . . did Bruce Banner really have the same size waist, hips and thighs when he transformed into the Hulk? Because on the show, the Hulk always had pants or some remnants of pants on after the transformation.

Or am I just thinking about this too much?

Yeah, I think I already know the answer to that.

Happy Feet

Sometimes all it takes are some cute, new shoes to come in the mail to brighten your day.

If anyone brings me some ice cream or cupcakes, that may just put me over the top.

Lucky 21

Guess who gets to keep being an awesome aunt? 21 times over?

Yep. Me.

My newest fan just arrived yesterday, and she's perfect.

Wrinkly, long feet and all.

NKOTB meets BSB

Thanks to a good friend who helps me stay informed on the really important things in life, I found out about a near perfect combination of boy band forces. As sad as I am that I couldn't be there to actually witness it, I'm pretty stoked to know it happened.

New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys surprised fans in a joint concert.

My inner-preteen just fainted from the thought of all those guys together on one stage.

As they walked and walked and walked and walked . . . Part 2

So, I survived.

There were no bear attacks, dysentery or deaths along the trail. But there was snow {yes - SNOW!}, sunburned faces, a broken collarbone {from a gunny sack race} and amazing, uplifting spiritual experiences.

And while I'm not in any rush to go back out on the trail, I am so, so, so glad I went. The youth surprised and impressed me with their insights and willingness to work. I felt privileged to be there with them.

*Seriously, I am one hot Ma, right? And yes, there was no one around to take my post-trek photos, so I had to do it myself. The only thing my gigantic mirrors are good for.

As they walked and walked and walked and walked . . .

Tomorrow morning I embark on a new adventure. I'll be participating in my stake's pioneer trek for the youth. {For those of you who don't understand that last sentence, contact me directly for an explanation because it's too hard to do here.}

Having never participated in a trek before, I'm not totally sure of what to expect. Others have tried to fill me in, but I get the feeling that it will be one of those things that I just have to experience for myself. I'm excited because I like being outdoors, love being around kids and enjoy having new experiences.

However.

I am also kind of anxious because it's all outdoors {I can pee outdoors - that doesn't mean I like it}, there will be a bunch of kids around {the anticipation of the smelly boys after a couple of days turns my stomach - I know of what I speak; I used to teach middle school, remember?} and it's a new experience that I feel I can't completely prepare for {is that my pseudo-OCD rearing its ugly head?}.

So.

I'll let you know how it goes. If you don't see another post on this blog for a while, I'm probably recuperating from a vicious bear attack where I threw myself in front of the children to save them. If you don't see another post on this blog ever again, I got eaten by the bear.

Happy trails.

Um, Awkward

Do you know what's weird? When you blogstalk someone and then see someone from their blog (but not the blogger herself) out in the real world.

I was at an undisclosed store this weekend and saw a couple who looked vaguely familiar. I kept staring and staring, trying to figure out how I knew them. And then I remembered where I had seen them. Not met them - seen them. And right about then is when they looked at me with expressions that said something like, 'Why do you keep staring at us, weirdo?'

Awkward.

P.S. If you blogstalk me, that's cool. Feel free to leave a comment. I promise I'll try to not think you're some kind of weirdo.

I Knew It

Keanu Reeves is the nicest celebrity in Hollywood.


And I would still marry him, beard or not.

I recommend . . .

I just finished reading, and must recommend, a book that David Cullen, a freelance reporter, published regarding the events of April 20, 1999 at Columbine High School. To say the least, it was an incredible read. As someone who clearly remembers being glued to the television that entire afternoon and evening, I was intrigued to learn more of the details that lead up to the event and more about the aftermath. Mr. Cullen was one of the reporters at the school that afteroon and does a fantastic and thorough job of explaining what he can about this tragedy. It took him 10 years to compile and try to make sense of the many details. There were a number of myths I had dispelled for me. And I was uplifted by the stories of hope shared by some of the survivors.

This is not just a gruesome retelling of a horrible event. It is a detailed investigation into who the people involved were and are. It puts into perspective how something like this was able to happen and play out the way it did. There were times that I had to put the book down and walk away. Some of the details are hard to stomach. But overall I felt that this book is a way to let go of some of the anger, hurt and confusion that still linger over this misunderstood day in modern American history.