hola, isabel

Things that the very handsome and very well dressed young business men in line behind me at Chipotle talked about:

• using self tanners (”it messes up my hands”)
• how they vote on American Idol (”the girls were on last night”)
• Gossip Girl (”its easy to love to hate it”) (”you can’t DVR it or you won’t be able to talk to your friends about it on Tuesday!”)
• not being into Chantel anymore (an ex-girlfriend?) (”She’s so last month.”)
• shaving their balls (”i just take my razor in the shower and do it at the gym.  it’s saves time.”)

Although I was a mere 2 inches in front of them, they must have thought I was far enough away and wouldn’t hear them.

IT WAS NOT FAR ENOUGH AWAY.  And I did hear them.

I had no idea that hott guys talked this way.   To be honest, I’m a little disappointed.

As a teenager every Easter weekend was spent camping at Zion National Park.  My family had a favorite camp ground and a favorite camp spot (near the water, under the shade, close enough to walk to the bathrooms/showers).  Yep, that’s how we camped; toilets and showers were a must.  (It must be noted that our camp trailer also had a working shower and toilet.)  Every year we would also go on the same hike.  It was one of the few handicap accessibly hikes in the entire park.

Yep, that’s how my family hiked; we went on the same hikes that people in wheelchairs could manage.

(I’m embarrassed to even share this with the interweb.)

(And yet, I’m about to share more.)

After I graduated from high school and moved away to college I never returned to Zion or went on any hikes, handicap accessible or not.  I married my first husband shortly there after.  When I married him I knew I was marrying into a family that enjoyed spending time in the outdoors.  (And by “spending time in the outdoors” I mean “spending time hiding behind trees and bushes killing defenseless animals.)  (Let’s try to not turn this into a discussion on hunting.  I’m just saying that the ex’s family was not like my family in that regard.)

While my first husband wasn’t a hunter, he did like to fish and hike.  He went fishing almost daily….sans me.  He rode his mountain bike and hiked with his friends occasionally.  Again, sans me.  here towards the end of our marriage I remember going on one hike with him.  I can totally see the picture he took of me during that hike.  I did not look like I was having fun.  Maybe it was him, maybe it was the hike, I can’t be certain.

That last hike had to have occurred somewhere around 1998.  That’s about 12 years ago.

When I married The King I knew that while he liked the outdoors, he wasn’t planning any hikes up Mt. Rainier in his future.  Fine by me.

This summer something odd happened.  The King decided he wanted to go camping as a family…in a tent…out in the open.    And oddly enough I thought it sounded like a good idea.  On this first camping trip (to Mt. Rainer, strangely enough) the family’s we were camping with wanted to go on a hike at Mt. Rainier.  Dude, I did not want to be the one person that was all “dude, you want me to walk up a mountain, while I could be back at our camp site eating s’mores, FOR NO GOOD REASON?!”  So I went along and acted like hiking was no big deal to me.

Whatever, it was a big deal.  First off, it was hot out.  Secondly, THERE WERE SHEER CLIFFS.  Thirdly, dude, the trail was long and straight up.  I was tired and sleepy and just feeling a general sense of laziness all around.

While I enjoyed spending time with friends, I was pretty sure it was going to be my last hike. At least for another 12 years.

The thing is, The King loved the hike.  My Sweet Babboo loved the hike.  LOVED IT.

Thankfully, right about that time, I found some new meds that started to work.   Gone was The Tired.  We were also introduced to Geocaching.  And made some new friends in our church congregation that loved to hike.

Put this all together and what do you get?

A family of hikers, that’s what.

We started to stalk the returns section at REI (referred to as “the basement”).  We found The King some fancy new (slightly used) hiking boots.  We found Babboo some new (slightly used) hiking shoes.  And then we found me some new (slightly used) hiking boots.  We were now officially “people who hike”.

Since the house is pretty much done, our Saturdays have become more open.  Lately, we’ve been using our Saturday’s to go on hikes with different friends, my in-laws, and even some with just the 3 of us.  We’ve hiked in other states and other countries.

I’ve even gone hiking on business trips.

While it’s highly unusual for me to be hiking so much, it’s even more highly unusual that I’m enjoying our hikes.  I even commented to The King on a recent hike “I sure do like hiking!”

He about had a heart attack hearing those words come out of my mouth.  And frankly so did I.

After talking to my dad last week about a recent hike we’d taken, he said “I didn’t know you guys were so into hiking.  Next time you’re in Utah for a visit we should go on a hike.”  I had to laugh (on the inside).  The thought of my parents going on a hike IN THE MOUNTAINS was comical.  The only thing they do in the mountains is ride their huge 4-wheelers around.

Yesterday My Best Friend Who Deserted Me And  Moved To Reno (aka: May) sent me an e-mail where she said something to the effect of “don’t be offended, but it’s hard for me to picture you taking a hike.  Do you do it dressed in all black and wearing heels?”

She knows me very well.

But she knows an older version of me.  She knows the person who was ruled by The Tired.  I totally understand what May was saying to me and it made me feel good to know that I had been able to change. And for the better, I hope.

I tried to count the number of hikes we’ve taken since that first hike on Mt. Rainier this summer, and I can’t.  There are too many to remember.

And I like that.

(Oh yeah, The King plans on hiking to the top of Mt. Rainier this summer.  I don’t plan on going with him!)

(Yes, these are just some of the pictures from different hikes we’ve taken. All since last summer.)

Let’s say that The King is an english teacher (he isn’t, but let’s just pretend for a minute). And let’s say that he’s worked at public schools for the last 10 years. That is until he lost his job last July.

In the mean time he’s been able to pick up some work as a freelance english teacher at his old school’s rivals. He’s also made some money helping friends with their remodel jobs.

At the start of this year The King landed a very sweet freelance job. It was for 3 months, but could pretty much go for as long as he wanted.

Just because he had a teaching job, he kept looking for a more permanent job.

Earlier this week The King was offered a permanent job. A really good permanent job. He’ll be making a little more money then before, but the benefits totally blow any other job out of the water.

The thing is, this new job isn’t working as an english teacher at a school. This new job is working at a huge hospital working as an english teacher in their little teaching department.

(Now remember, he’s not really a teacher and his new job isn’t really at a hospital.)

What I’m saying is that while The King will essentially been doing what he’s be trained at and what he rocks at doing, he’ll be doing it in a completely different setting. When he worked at the schools he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. That industry was very laid back. Most of his coworkers had pink or blue hair and wore very non-traditional clothing and led non-traditional lives. They could (and did) drink, company provided alcohol, on the job. (Clearly The King, being a nice Mormon boy, stood out. But they all still loved him and he loved them too.)

The new job at the hospital isn’t like this. At all. They aren’t laid back.

He got his official offer letter in the mail yesterday which outlined the hospital’s dress code:

• slacks
• collard shirts
• NO TENNIS SHOES EVER. AND THEY MEAN IT.
• jeans are allowed every other week. Sometimes.

Um yeah, he’s pretty sure nobody at the hospital has pink hair and the girls probably don’t wear mini skirts.

He officially starts at the hospital next week.  So we’re going to have to do some serious clothes shopping this weekend. And while The King doesn’t want to have to dress like a “douche” (his words, not mine), he wants this new job.

I think he’ll look nice.  I’ve always told him that he cleans up nice.

And in other, non-The-King-related news;

Today may very well be the first day in over 10 years that I’m not wearing a single item of black clothing.  Including my shoes.

Maybe the world is ending.

This is absolutely , without a doubt, The King’s most favorite picture of my mom. He laughs every time he sees it.

There she is, just standing there posing for a picture with her huge helmet on. Like she’s saying “why bother taking this totally uncomfortable helmet off for a little lunch break?”

Why bother? Because it’s hideous. But it’s also hilarious.

The best part is that most pictures of my mom look similar to this. She’s always wearing a puffy coat that’s 3 sizes too big for her and a helmet that’s made for professional motor cross guys and not some mom from Utah.

(You’ll note that in this picture my younger brother took the time to remove his helmet. But not his goggles? Yeah, I don’t get it.)

My parents spend most weekends riding their 4-wheelers on the back trails of Utah. They love it and I think that’s great. (I grew up around 3-wheelers, but now they only ride 4-wheelers since they’re much safer.) (But not safe enough that Babboo is allowed near one.)

Looking at these other pictures I’m thinking that it might not just be her huge helmet and over sized coat, it may also be her post; standing, arms at side, no emotions.

This year for Christmas The King surprised me with a brand new coat.  It’s black and fitted and cozy and I love it.

I was surprised he got it for me since I didn’t need a new coat. I had a perfectly good coat that I got for free. You see, my BFF May (who deserted me and moved to Reno) is married to a guy that used to work in the fashion industry and therefore got a lot of clothing samples. Mr. May had been nice enough to get me a lovely, albeit super large, purple puffy coat. Sure, I hate purple. Sure, it’s too big. But it was warm and best of all it was free. *

When I asked The King why he bought me this slick new black coat when I had a coat already, he said:

“You were one helmet away from looking like your mom.”

I knew what he meant and I was thankful he had my back. I hadn’t even realized it until it was pointed out to me. And I was glad it had been pointed out.

Because that’s what marriage is all about; making sure your spouse doesn’t turn into their parent.

*May and Mr. May are celebrating their 10th wedding anniversary today. Congrats to the both of them!

I moved out of Utah in 2000.  The winter Olympics were there in 2002.  I was always disappointed that I missed out on all the excitement of actually being at the Olympics.  (That being said, I don’t know a single person in Utah that actually attended any of the events.  That totally baffles me to this day.)

I tried to get involved with the 2002 Olympics as best I could.  The King bought me the sweetest Olympic sweat suit.  I wore the hoodie just about everywhere that winter.  My mom also sent me as many Olympic pins as she could get her hands on.  Before 2002 I didn’t even know there was such a thing as Olympic pins or that people collected them like crazy.

My mom even sent me the coveted green Jell-o pin.

(If the green Jell-o one baffles you, then you must not be a Mormon.)

(That just sounds more confusing.  Let’s just say that there are a lot of jokes that involve Mormons and green Jell-O, or something like that.)

Not only do I have the green Jell-O pin, but I also have the Mormon missionaries pin.

I loved the Roots berets, but I would have never had the balls to wear one.  I just coveted from afar.

(Looking at the beret now, I’m very glad I never got one!  That is a look that would not have withstood the test of time.)

While my pins and hoodie are awesome, they don’t take the place of actually being at the Olympics.

Welcome to 2010, where the winter Olympics are taking place a mere three hours from my house in a city we l-o-v-e and visit oft.  And here I am, again, not attending.

(That’s me in front of the 2010 official Olympic countdown way back in 2008.)

I was nice enough to buy my mom an Olympic pin in Vancouver and send it to her for Christmas this last year.  But no hoodie or pin for myself.

Honestly, we didn’t try too hard to get to the Olympics this year.  We heard that hotels we usually get on priceline.com for $60 were going for $3000.  A NIGHT.  Yeah, The King family can not afford that.

I can’t even imagine what the border crossing is going to be like.  I’ve sat there for 7 hours before when it wasn’t the Olympics.  Geez, it’s got to be bad now.

(I just checked the Peace Arch border wait times online and it said there wasn’t a wait time.  YEAH, RIGHT.)

Our excitement for the Vancouver Olympics was shared by some friends of ours.  Let’s call them the JJ’s.  So the JJ’s are awesome, awesome people.  Mr. JJ is the happiest, nicest, genuine person I’ve ever met.  Unlike us he was a little more proactive in getting to the Olympics.  He told us he planned on just getting to Vancouver and then he’d figure it out once he got there.  He WAS going to the Olympics.  He was adamant.  Thankfully he wasn’t going to pull his wife and 3 kids into his madness.  He’d leave them at home so they wouldn’t have to sleep in the car.  Or in the park.

The King and I just rolled our eyes anytime Mr. JJ talked about going to the Olympics.  We couldn’t believe he wasn’t putting some thought into his plan.  He was just about The Action.  That’s how Mr. JJ rolls and it usually works out just fine for him.  (I think it’s karma for how great of a person he is.)

We weren’t that surprised when Mr. JJ told us that he was given tickets to some of the Olympic events as well as a FREE HOTEL ROOM for him and his family.

Seriously.  I guess his brother in New Mexico knows a guy who knows a guy who had some tickets/hotel rooms he wanted to just GIVE AWAY.  While I can’t think of a better recipient it’s still quite amazing that someone would do this.

I got a text this morning from the JJ’s. They were just crossing the border into Canada and wishing we were there with them.  Dude, me too.

This whole thing made me realize that the JJ’s had been right along.  You just had to believe you were going and it would just happen.

That’s what I get for being so cynical.

And for not knowing the right people.

So tell me, did any of you actually buy one of those 2002 Olympic berets and wear it?

It seems like January came and went in a flash, right? We actually had a pretty busy January, which is odd because we are usually pretty boring. (Seriously….the dreary weather needs to stop so that we can go outside and enjoy the sun.)

I’ve realized that I haven’t updated the interweb (or people I know IRL) that The King got a job. Oh yes, a real live job that pays him to show up and work. Okay, it’s 3 month contract job doing the same thing he did before for a different agency. But we’re pretty sure he’ll be able to stay on as long as he wants. He’s still looking for a job, but he’s not going to say no to the one he’s currently rocking.

Months ago, before The King lost his job back in July, we made a deal with Babboo. We told him that if he’d quit biting his nails that we’d buy him The Big Pirate Ship. We really weren’t sure this was going to work. But yeah, the kid quit biting his nails right away. And right before the losing of the job. So then we had to tell Babboo that we’d buy him The Big Pirate Ship once The King found a new job.

The day after The King got the job we bought The Big Pirate ship. My Sweet Babboo hasn’t quit playing with it ever since. It maybe only intensified his already intense love for Playmobil pirates.

(He prefers to play with it in our bedroom. He says the “ocean” is better in there.)

I maybe also forgot to mention that for Christmas my parents bought us all plane tickets to come and visit them in January! I’m always happy anytime they offer money towards plane tickets to Utah. Babboo is over two and is now required to have his own seat. Flying is a lot of money, yo! (How do people with more then one kid afford it. Seriously, what do the Duggers pay when they fly?) (Speaking of the Duggers, you now how they’ve named all their kids “J” names? Yeah, so did my parents. It’s the one thing we have in common with them. Well, except for our love of God.)

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, our trip to visit my family.

So yeah, we headed to Utah a few weeks ago and while it was snowy and pretty cold, we still had fun. We talked my parents into geocaching for the first time. It was our first time geocaching in the snow. And let me tell you, it’s even harder to find a cache when it’s under three feet of snow. I think my parents liked it. I think.

We also had the opportunity to drive up to Salt Lake City for a few hours. The King and I had never taken Babboo to visit Temple Square, so we went. It’s always so special to be around such a beautiful building. (The SLC temple was the first temple I attended at the ripe old young age of 22.)

After walking around the temple grounds we decided to check out one of the many museums there. Babboo particularly enjoyed seeing the original pulpit from the old Tabernacle. (You can just barely see his little head peeking up over the top. He seriously stood up there on his own and began talking about Jesus. It was pretty sweet.)

Oh yeah, he also got to play with my younger brother’s real lightsaber. It makes the “whoose” noise and everything. (Check me out, I even knew that it was Darth Vader’s lightsaber because he has the red one. NERD!)

Right after returning from our little trip to Utah, I headed to Oklahoma City for an entire week for work. Just like Utah OKC was cold and snowy. BTW, I had to work outside for part of the day everyday. It was cold and wet and I wasn’t happy.

The low point of the week was when my coworker tricked me into visiting the Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial. I did not want to go. I already had a tender heart that week and I knew going there would only intensify those feelings. Plus, I didn’t want to cry in front of my coworker.

I’m not lying when I saw he tricked me to go there. Him doing that left a very bad taste in my mouth. I allowed him to snap a few pics and then I got the h-e double toothpicks outta there.

The low point of the week was, thankfully, quickly followed by the high point. The lovely Carrisa drove all the way from her home in Tulsa to come stay the night in OKC and hang out with me.

And it only got better as the night progressed…..

The always awesome and hilarious Shana from over at GorillaBuns came and had BBQ with us.

(This picture was totally staged. I can assure you that Shana ate her ribs with much more dignity and grace!)

Shanne and Carrisa gave me a lot of grief for the following things I’m going to tell you. You have to swear that you won’t give me grief too.

Say “I swear”.

Okay.

I had never eaten ribs before. NEVER. It wasn’t that I was against the idea of ribs, it just had never been offered to me before. I ate ribs. I liked ribs. I wasn’t sure why I had never had them before.

The next thing you can’t give me grief for is that I’ve never had fried okra. Honestly, I’m not even sure what okra is, let alone fried okra. This floored Carrisa and Shana. Seriously floored them. The promptly requested some friend okra from the waitress. Who promptly told us they were fresh out of okra.

After that Shana suggested I just buy some frozen fried okra at my local Seattle grocery store and give it a try.

She was even more floored when I assured her that my local grocery store wouldn’t carry fried okra in their frozen food section. She didn’t believe me. But yeah, they wouldn’t have it.

Now remember, you swore that you wouldn’t give me any grief for this. YOU SWORE!

Thanks to Shana and Carrisa for making my week away from my little family bearable. I’ll see you the next time I’m in OKC. (Which might be in March, BTW. I’ll keep you posted on my schedule!)