I'm a princess

We all know, deep down, that we're a princess. But now you can figure out which Disney princess you are. My first results said I was Pocahontas. Her profile isn't bad, but since I hate that movie I decided to change one answer (the obvious one that pointed me toward Pocahontas -sitting by a waterfall in the wilderness? Come on...) and now I'm Mulan. I can live with that.


You Are Mulan!

Strong and spirited. You're no one's girly girl; actually you are very determined person with a strong sense of self. Never let go of that! The only thing that equals your sense of self is your family, but the traditions of society can always be bent to protect something or someone you love.

Which Disney Princess Are You?

Unsent Letter

Dear driver of the four-door, black Acura with the California license plates,

Thank you.

Thank you so much for not hitting me today when I changed into your lane. I thought I checked all my blind spots when I moved into your lane, but I must not have. You were back there somewhere and when I changed lanes you had to stop short to avoid hitting me. Thank you for being so alert and attentive! We both avoided a lot of lost time, painful paperwork, phone calls, and money thanks to your driving. I don't think I can thank you enough.

Thank you also for teaching me a great lesson. Not only did I learn to watch my blind spots more carefully, but I learned a little bit about myself and how I should treat others who make mistakes.
You were obviously very upset that I didn't see you. I understand completely. I'd be upset, too. And I can understand that you'd want me to know how close I came to being hit and how careless I was when I moved into your lane.

However.

It wasn't necessary for you to go out of your way to follow me so closely on my right side as I made that left turn onto another street. It also wasn't necessary for you to drive along side, roll down your window and yell at me. Honestly, I have no idea what you were saying because my window was rolled up. And I wasn't about to roll it down because I already knew what you were trying to say. Your driving said it all. Rather than listening to your screaming, my main objective at that point was to make sure I didn't get in another close-call because of your erratic driving. I was willing to drive slowly until you got your point across. You taught me a lot in that moment about being aware of the cars around me. I was now very aware of your car and was anticipating any move that it would make. That's why I was able to slow down and avoid rear-ending you when you shot in front of me and then slammed on your brakes. I know I am in no position to give advice at this moment, but, really, is that how you teach other people a lesson? I didn't really learn much from your lesson. All I learned was that you were a jerk. And I'm sure that you're not really a jerk. You were just acting like one to me.

Aside from learning that you have a temper, I did learn a few more important things. I learned to think about what I do when people around me do dumb things on the road.

When I'm the one who has to stop short because some careless driver didn't see me, is it my job to let that driver know what an idiot move they just made? Having just been the idiot driver, I can honestly say no. Believe me, I learned that lesson as soon as I saw you in my rear-view mirror and heard you honking. It's a good lesson to learn. I'm so glad it was just a lesson and not a consequence involving higher insurance rates.

So, for all the lessons learned, thank you.

Sincerely,
The driver in the four-door, silver honda, with the Utah license plates.

A man and his truck

I married a typical boy. I'm learning now that I didn't grow up with "typical boys". (No offense my bruthas...) They didn't live for playing sports and competing. They didn't have sports idols (at least not that I was aware of). They didn't drool over a good piece of meat or grunt or any of that stuff. In my high school mind boys like that were kind of rude. And mean. And they were jerks. Funny how I knew what somebody was like just by looking at them. Aren't high school stereo-types fun?!

I hung out with a different class of boy. The intellectual/nerdy/musical/funny boys. Give me a boy who could understand subtle sarcastic humor and appreciate some good music over a boy who spent his time sweating in a gym or on a court any day. (No offense to the boys I hung out with growing up. I'm sure you were good at sports....and stuff.)

But then I met Zack. He's a unique combination of both types. He taught me that you CAN be on the football team or basketball team and not be a jerk. (But what about my good old-fashioned high school stereo-types?!) He's super smart in a good nerd sort of way, AND he appreciates a good subtle, sarcastic comment any day.

But he's also a typical boy. He likes meat. He likes to play sports. Give him a ball and his face lights up. He likes to watch sports. He even reads about sports in the paper. Honestly, when they start talking about sports on the news my brain tells me that the news is over and I change the channel. It didn't even occur to me that people like to watch that stuff. But Zack does. He loves it. He knows all sorts of tid-bits about any sport. He knows names and statistics. He also knows how to play most sports.

He also knows about cars. He can change oil, brake pads, flush fluids and actually knows how the engine works. What a guy.

He likes to work out (when he has the time). He loves his power tools.

And he likes his truck.

I used to think that trucks were kind of like big toys for boys. They used a lot of gas, they cost a lot of money, they aren't practical to take a family around in, and guys always bought them bigger than they needed to be. I could see that they served a purpose, but only if you lived on a farm or needed them to haul stuff around alot.

I never understood how much a truck can make a guy feel like a man until we got our truck. There's something about being able to haul your own stuff in your own truck; beholden to no one. Shortly after we got the truck we were hauling some wood in a trailer and Zack said, "I've got my truck, I'm hauling a trailer full of firewood that I'm going to chop up for my woodburning stove, my dogs are in the back and my wife is in the seat next to me. Can it get any better than this?"

Maybe it can...

When we decided to get a truck we agreed that it would be used for good. When you have a truck people are going to ask you to help them move stuff. We agreed that we wouldn't complain when people asked us to help them. That's why we have a truck. To move stuff with. Since getting the truck we have used it for lots of things. He has helped people move stuff. Even though it's a smaller truck (it barely fits in the garage) his truck can do many things. At the cabin we discovered that he can put two kayaks on the back of the truck plus room for chairs, coolers and life jackets.

He can even fit an ATV in the back of his truck.

But my favorite image of him and the truck is that of last Monday. That's when he drove away with two boys in the back seat and a scout trailer attached to back. He was on his way to scout camp for the first time as scoutmaster. This was not an easy call to accept. It took a lot of humility to accept a call that he was sure almost every guy in the ward was more qualified for. It took, and still takes, a lot of patience to work with 12 and 13 year old boys. It takes a lot of commitment and time and work. It was hard to take 5 days off of work to spend up in the mountains with someone other than his wife. But he did it. He's doing a great job. And even though there are times he grumbles because it's hard or takes time away from being with me, he does it, because he knows who it was who called him to do it. And he's doing a pretty good job with those boys.

And I have to admit, the truck makes a huge difference. It's probably one of the best uses "for good" that I can think of right now. I hope it gets a lot more use like that.

Memory Tag

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

Productivity Screetches to a Halt

Nothing is getting done at my house. It's been this way for two days. I knew this would happen. I'm almost done. Just a hundred pages or so. Then I can come back to the present world. The world where there are no Souls and Hosts, Jareds, Jamies, Ians, or impossible decisions to make.

You know what I mean.