BFF's and World Peace

"Mrs. Shimp," our resident class bully / tattletale says earnestly.

(As usual. Recess is over, so it's time for his daily tattle.)

"G was butting me," he complains. "And he stepped on my foot, and pushed me."

"That's a real shame," I say, "because you know what? I know G. And he's a really good guy, I actually really like him. And I know you, and you're also a really good guy, and I really like you, too. So it's too bad that you had to argue.....I mean, couldn't you have thought of something better you two could have done?"

I've got some suggestions ready: stay away from each other, let it go if he butts you, maybe calmly explain that he hurt your feelings when he did that.

T immediately responds with his own suggestion: "Maybe, we could just be best friends instead!"

And suddenly it's resolved, and they are best friends instead.

Our tenth Airbnb guest was a PhD student. She was on sabbatical in the United States, studying chemistry with a BYU professor. I chatted with her while I was making dinner, and accidentally cut my finger with the knife. She brought me a band-aid and told me to please be careful, and then we laughed about how her mom had called, and yelled at her about the fast food she had been eating.

"She's really nice," I told one of my friends.

"Yeah, well," they replied, "She didn't bomb your house, so that is nice."

Which I thought was not nice. Because our guest was a Muslim girl from Iran, but she was also a teacher, and a traveler, and a potential best friend, and you wouldn't know that if you only focused on a few things about her.

She told us all about her life in Iran. Her students loved her, because she was a very relaxed teacher. She always had to cover her face, but she liked how she didn't have to here. They have all four seasons in Iran. She didn't much like traveling and never expected to go anywhere as far as Utah again in her life. If I wasn't there, she seemed uncomfortable having conversations with Stephen and instead would just say a quick hello and then retreat to her room. She didn't like spicy foods. Alcohol is not allowed in Iran, but unlike America where everyone raged against the machine and started up speakeasies until it was re-allowed, no one seems to care in Iran. Dating is also very different - she said there is no touching, and you would never be alone with each other.

And talking with her, and sharing my home with her, just made me wish that ee'rbody in the world had the same viewpoint as T, and would take a step back and maybe, just be best friends instead. We're all people, after all, and we aren't all that different. We all feel feelings, and we all shiz out of our buttholes, and we all like Instagram better than Facebook.

And we can all be best friends.

25 Reasons You Love Me

I'm having a birthday this year. This usually happens, but this year is special!

*She said every year.*

Ehm, anyway. This year, I'm turning 25.

(I might say this for a few years, but this year it's actually biological. So take note!)

In honor of this very exciting event, I thought I would make a list of 25 things about me. Random things that you may or may not know.

Let's begin.

1. Sometimes I get so excited about birthdays that I over-plan them, and then I start to think that that day is all about me and my awesome plans. Even when it's someone else's birthday. This happens annually with Stephen. I have literally said to him, on his birthday: "Don't you ruin this for me! Don't you dare take this away on my special day!"

2. I'm pretty sure I get a crick in my neck more often than is normal, and like 8% of me wonders if an oil would fix it, but I would rather have cricks than turn into an oils person, so. That's a problem I live with for now.

3. I love dressing up and free food more than almost anything else. These things make the world go round.

4. I live vicariously through my sisters in their dating/texting lives. Boys trying to date my sisters, beware that you might be reading a txt I wrote.

5. I remember almost all of my dreams. I make a point to think about them when I wake up, because I love them so much.

6. And actually, I'm a great dream interpreter. My dad keeps telling me I should make a website and interpret people's dreams, because wouldn't that be so funny, and I keep thinking "What is funny about that, this is serious."

7. I never realized how many ways a person can sleep in a bed wrong until I married Stephen.

8. I once went on The Price is Right. I did not get called up. And consequently I did not win any money. I still feel a little sad about this from time to time.

9. I love snakes. Sometimes when I'm feeling lonely, I peruse the snakes for sale on KSL, just intending to look. Get an idea of the cost. And then, inevitably, I end up txting Stephen about 4 or 5 different ones that I waaaaant and are such good deals.

10. I am unceasingly inspired by my mom and Marjorie Pay Hinckley.

11. I went through this Elvis phase once, when I was like 11, right after I watched Lilo and Stitch. I got like 3 Elvis CD's for Christmas that year.

12. Sometimes I try to think about taking a Europe vacation, and I try to Pinterest it, and look on Airbnb, and it always overwhelms me. And somehow I wind up on cruise websites instead, what?

13. I get perfect weather for my birthday e'er year. It just always happens.

14. My most embarrassing moment occurred when I went on a date with a boy, who took me to his apartment to introduce me to his roommates, who apparently were sordid pigs, and I went to the bathroom and found a sandwich floating in the toilet and an empty toilet paper roll and no soap. And I am not going to share the rest of this story.

15. As a teacher, yes I have favorites. #sorrynotsorry. (My favorites are not set in stone and sometimes change daily, if that makes it any better.)

16. If I ever become rich, I want a beach room in my house. Not a beach house. I want a room with a wave pool, and sand, and a skylight, and a sound system that plays the sounds of the ocean. In my house. Stephen says this is unrealistic and I say that is rude.

17. Also, I want a car butler. I do not understand these horseless carriages!! I just want someone I trust to come over monthly, and check everything, and tell me what I need to fix, and get the oil changed, and do all the maintenance things that I am physically incapable of keeping track of.

18. When I first came to Utah, I came with big dreams of marrying a cowboy or Cosmo the Cougar. I married neither. But holla at my better-than-I-ever-dreamed-of-hottie-husband that I snagged instead!

19. I like to wear mismatching socks.

20. One of my nostrils is drastically different than the other nostril. Stephen was the first person to ever notice this, to my knowledge, and he took a picture to prove it to me. His nostrils are perfectly symmetrical, so it was really shocking to him.

21. My car's name is Cassidy Jane Carbaby. One time I bought a car and named him Lerone, after this guy on the Bachelorette who didn't even get a single rose. I was very upset by this and felt like he deserved at least one rose, because he made a great first impression on me! But then Lerone The Car died like a week after I got it. So I decided that Emily must have been right, and I never named another car Lerone ever again.

22. One day, I would really really like to publish a book.

23. I read "The Fault in Our Stars" and it ruined my life. I just think about it and I cry. And this happens like, monthly. Do not read this book!!

24. I have a slight obsession with engagement photos, wedding photos, love story videos, everything up that alley. Sometimes I google "couples story" and watch video after video of people I don't have any connection in the world to, and it makes me so happy.

25. I am really particular about my water - or more specifically, the temperature of it, and the ratio of ice to water. In case you're interested: freezing cold, and like 70% ice.

Stephen just put my birthday crown on me (!!!!) so I guess it's time for bed.

How do YOU Francisco? (A Quiz)

After the Redwoods, we went straight to San Francisco. We drove across the famous Golden Gate Bridge at about 10:30pm, and found our bed about 20 minutes after that. (Stephen has a San Franciscan friend who graciously let us stay at his home while he and his family were gone on their own vacation!)

The next day, we explored the  city - or should I say, we explored ourselves. I learned a lot about myself in San Francisco, and a lot about Stephen. New places have a way of doing that to you.

So I came up with this quiz, to tell you about our day in San Fran. The question is, are you a Heather, or a Stephen, or a city-dweller?

1. Good mooooorning! Do you prefer to:
a. Go out and find somewhere to eat.
b. Make pancakes and then go out exploring.
c. Starve.

A is Stephen.
B is me, except I didn't have time to make anything.
C is San Franciscans. I'm pretty sure they just starve, because I saw how big their kitchens are, and I saw how expensive the restaurants are, and I saw how long it can take to get one mile in downtown San Fran at any time of the day, and it just seems like eating cannot be a priority to these people.

2. You're looking around for a place to eat breakfast. Driving in San Francisco is:
a. Downright terrifying, so you'll let someone else do it.
b. Alright. I can handle the driving - parking is what really sucks about this city.
c. Kinda fun! So many opportunities to honk....but it's also kinda stupid. So I ride my bike.

A is me. I did finally drive, at the end of the day, but mostly I was more than happy to let Stephen chauffeur me around.
B is Stephen. He did get slightly anxious about all the one-way streets and the traffic, but the parking situation truly would have had him in tears if he wasn't so masculine.
C is the San Franciscans again. I am baffled by this, but no one seemed bothered by the overload of cars. It was like watching a cooking demonstration, and the chef pours the brownie batter into a 2"x3" Pyrex pan, and it's clearly not gonna fit, but he's going for it anyway, and no one in the audience goes, "Hey Curtis do you need a bigger pan?" And then it's spilling all over the counter and still nobody thinks to say "Hmm maybe that's too small of a pan." And that metaphor was really just a long, abstract way of saying there are too many dang cars in this city, it is not big enough for all those people, but no one seemed to notice except me.

3. You find a place to eat breakfast! After driving around for another 45 minutes looking for a place to park, you find a different place to eat breakfast. One you can walk to from your parking space. You order:

a. Potatoes, eggs, ham, and pancakes. You eat about 1/4 of one of the pancakes and leave everything else on your plate.
b.  A breakfast banana split. (Basically a banana sliced in half and topped with Greek yogurt and homemade granola full of unidentifiable seeds and other organic things, and strawberries and blueberries, all served in a beautiful glass dish.)
c. A breakfast burrito. Which you inhale in about 5 minutes.

A is the San Franciscans. I KNOW! In this place where all the napkin holders have signs saying "Please only take what you really need," Stephen and I were shocked at the wastefulness! Not to mention, we were starving at this point and had to really hold ourselves back from eating that person's leftovers, because pretty sure they were on a date and pretty sure they didn't even touch it, so pretty sure we could have eaten it without getting the plague, but whate'er.
B is me. Did I trick you?! Did you think Iiiiii was the San Franciscan? Well thaynks. (It was actually quite delicious.)
C is Stephen. And his burrito was also delicious.

4. Breakfast is over, and your plans for the day include taking a picture in front of the Painted Ladies (Victorian townhomes from Full House). Do you:

a. Drive by them because, boring.
b. Park illegally and run your butt up the hill to take a picture, only to get embarrassed of looking so touristy and refuse to get in the picture and hand your camera to someone else.
c. Pose for a picture, then run back down the hill in an absolute PANIC when you see a policeman drive by, clearly on his way to ticket your car.

A was the San Franciscans. They don't curr.
B was Stephen. Normally he's really good about taking pictures with me, but he wasn't havin it in San Fran. I think it was a mixture of embarrassment, concern that someone was going to steal our camera if we asked them to take a picture, and anxiety about being in the city at all.
C was me. And no the po did not ticket us, whew!

5. You're done with one tourist attraction! Next, you:

a. Go back to the hotel / place you're staying at. This is way too stressful. It's not even fun. I actually hate it here.
b. Go back to the hotel / place you're staying at. I'm getting eaten alive in this city. I almost got run over by a car. (That might have happened like 3 times actually.) I just need to plan out my day a little better....
c. Go to another attraction because I run this city.

A is Stephen. B is me. I don't love cities, but I do kinda like them. Stephen, however, borderline-hates them. So after breakfast, one attraction, and 3 hours, we were both ready for a nap.
C is, I'm guessing, the local SFans. They all seemed so confident....one day I'll be like them.

6. You're in Ghirardelli Square, looking out at the water

a. gobbling a Ghirardelli's sundae and trying to figure out the least incompetent passerby who can take a picture with the water in the background
b. on a date with a handsome man, and you're both delicately picking at your own Ghirardelli's sundaes, not wanting to scare off the other one by scarfing down ice cream with your normal abandon
c. so you walk through the middle of a circle of benches filled with couples, and rip out your biggest possible fart. Then keep walking, unabashed, leaving all the lovebirds on benches to look around and giggle and question whether they actually just heard what they think they did.

Let's hope I never get pregnant too far away from a Ghirardelli's, because pretty sure I'm going to crave these.

A is actually both Stephen and I. Maybe we are past the honeymoon phase, but we might have spoon-fought over the last bits of fudge. It's fine.
B is the well-dressed gay San Franciscans we observed having the same(ish) date as us, just on a different bench. Oh, and there was no spoon-fighting. They were a lot daintier than us.
C is another San Franciscan. A lady. (Though not a very ladylike lady....) who really did exactly that.

7. In Fisherman's Wharf, the best place to go is:

a. a fancy exPENSive store, with statues of horses and dragons and naked people, and $2,000 urns, and sundry other expensive decorations that would look expensive anywhere you choose to drop them in your front yard, next to your 10-foot Bellagio-esque fountains, obvi.
b. Boudin's Bakery, where they make clam chowder and sourdough bread bowls - or rather, the stand right next to Boudin's Bakery, where they sell the exact same sourdough bread bowls and clam chowder, for the exact same price, but just without the indoor seating and the line.
c. anywhere else, because Fisherman's Wharf is a tourist trap.

A is me. I don't want to say that I enjoy window-shopping and looking at all the things I can't have, but I do enjoy window-shopping when it's things that I don't want and they are obscenely priced. It's just kind of fun.
B was Stephen. This day was largely (90%?) about the food for him. And I don't like clam chowder.
I'm assuming C is how the locals feel, but who really knows. I couldn't always tell the San Franciscans apart from the tourists.....although I'm sure people knew which category we fell into!

8. It's rush hour once again. This time: the night kind. You:

a. Joyously run people off the road with your ginormous-butt semi.
b. Get in the car, in the passenger side. Coax your co-pilot into the driver's side. Talk them through the process of squiggling out of the tight spot you have found yourselves in, thanks to some very selfish parkers who didn't feel like leaving a mile in front of and behind you on the curb. End up moving to the driver's seat again, because your person couldn't handle the stress of it. Flawlessly squiggle out of the claustrophobic space and onto the normal road, where it's not quiiiite as claustrophobic.
c. Get in on the driver's side. QUICKLY realize that this is not the place for you. You don't belong in this world of shiny new bumpers and parallel parking and 31% grade hills. You don't belong!! Panic. Press on the brake with all your might. Put the car in reverse and press a little harder on the brake. Express alarm when it starts making a terrible sound. Crawl shamefully into the passenger side, then back into the driver's seat once the car is safely away from the curb.

A is the San Franciscans. There are some rude semi-truck drivers there....or at least one.
B was Stephen. He really believed in me for about 2 minutes, I think.
C was me. I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but kind of indignant that anyone is expected to live and drive like that.



I did like San Francisco.....I just wish that we had had more time there. Someday I'll convince Stephen to go back with me ;) And we'll take the trolley so we don't have to worry about parking or driving, and that will make everything so much better.

Two Shimps in Oneonta

Recently, Hubs and I discussed dental schools and teeeeentatively settled on Maryland as our #1 choice. We were thrilled to have come to a semi-decision and started getting excited about the next chapter in our lives!

Then, panic ensued. (Mostly just inside of me.) Maryland is far, far away from where we are now, and we haven't seen everything yet! The realization set in that we had limited time. We would need to work fast.

We planned out a West-coast road trip, one that would last 2 weeks and take us to Washington and Portland and Yosemite. I spent hours on Google maps trying to plan where to stop first, and then where to go, and so on. Then I realized that we actually only had one week of summer where neither of us had school, and we had to condense the trip and cut some things out. And once we were on the road, there was so much that didn't happen as planned. Even so, it was a nearly perfect week, and I'm so glad I panicked :)

We packed on Thursday. Stephen picked me up after school on Friday and we headed off to our first stop: Boise, Idaho. We just stopped there for tonight to visit my old roommate, Chelsea, who I haven't seen since before either she or I got married. I spent almost two hours of our drive from Provo to Boise telling Stephen all about how hilarious she is and about all our fun memories together. We only got to see her for a short time, but her parents graciously let us explore and stay at their beautiful home that night.

This was the night we had intended to stay at the Anniversary Inn, but as I mentioned earlier, it was all booked. And that turned out to be something to rejoice about, because this house was 100x better!! It was literally the coolest house I've ever been in. I'll just say this: there was a suit of armor in the entryway. (And two more suits of armor in other places in the house.)

On Saturday, we went from Boise to Oneonta. It's right by the Columbia River Gorge (maybe even in it? It was hard to tell) and just has a bunch of cool hikes. Since we wanted to hike Half Dome in Yosemite at the end of this trip, and since Stephen's shoes have like 10 holes in them and zero traction on the bottom, we had gotten new hiking shoes for both of us right before driving to Boise. We just planned to wear them all the time so they would be broken in by the time we did Half Dome, so this one hike at Oneonta Gorge was both of our shoes' maiden voyage.

Wellllll, turns out slot canyons in Oregon are different than slot canyons in Utah, because they are actually wet! In Utah, if it's wet, it's because there's a flash flood and you are ABOUT TO DIE. In Oregon, it's no big deal and people bring their kids and have a blasty-blast swim-walking through the wet slot canyon.

At first I tried to pick my way carefully across the patches of rocks and the logs strewn everywhere. When we got to the first unpickable puddle, I took my shoes and socks off and waded through to the next rock island. But eventually I just had to give up, and I squelched through the sometimes waist-deep water with my new hiking shoes just like everybody else.

The water was freezing, but it was one of our favorite hikes we've ever done! It was really short - it only took about an hour to reach the waterfall at the end, take some pictures of Stephen jumping in, and then splish-splash back to the car.

Stephen's aunt Angie lives about 20 minutes outside of Columbia River Gorge, so we stayed with her while we were in Portland. We had a great time with our tour guides!! Angie and Jeff took us to Thai food for dinner our first night, and to the Columbia River Gorge the next day. We had a picnic and did two hikes at a place called Beacon Rock. It was beautiful!

The hike itself was also really cool! It wasn't too hard thanks to all the footbridges switch-backing up the mountain, which apparently took 3 years to complete. I don't think it would have been doable without the footbridges, because at some points, there was nothing under the bridge. But they felt very sturdy and I think even people with a fear of heights would be fine on this hike. This was the view looking down.

And the view looking up! 

While we were in Portland, we also played with Kashmere, the sweetest golden retriever I've ever met, picked and ate wild blackberries, played a hilarious game that I don't even remember the name of now, and got Voodoo Doughnuts. Bonus: Stephen swam with Kashmere and almost got caught naked when he tried to change into his swimsuit in the car.

Not sure why I look bald?? But the berries were so good!

Kashmere made a perfect pillow. He was so soft and smelled good and didn't even mind my head resting on him!

Yummmm!

Portland, we like you. 

Days of the Week

Sundays are for writing missionaries the LAST EMAIL before they come home (!!!!!) and for Father's Day family BBQ's, where Stephen ripped his new shorts trying to swing dance with me.

Mondays are for maxi-skirts with the girls in my class, and for classy (free) orchestra concerts at the Gallivan Center.

Insert glowing review here.

Tuesdays are for Zumba class and productivity, and regretting that I didn't post anything on Sunday on Facebook about my father. He is the best, I hope you all know that.

Wednesdays are for crying sneakily behind my sunglasses on the Front-runner as I write notes to all my kids from my classes this year. Also, for catching up on the Bachelorette and getting annoyed again at Kaitlyn and her immaturity.

Thursdays are for picking up Claire, the dog princess of the world, and attending my cute student's play with Margot and our husbands. Also, driving up to the gas pump with exactly 1 mile to empty. This has never happened to me before and better never happen again.

Friday day was for my kids' end-of-the-year program, where they sang and danced and did gymnastics and other tricks, and I was so proud of them I thought I was going to burst wide open. We celebrated afterwards with root beer floats and with Stephen doing handstands and tricks on the flagpole, and it was just the best day at school ever.



Friday night was for free shave ice, free dinner, and hiking the Y (also free) with the fam. And with Claire. It wouldn't be right to leave her out.

And of course, no hike to the top of Y mountain would be complete without a scoop (or 4, whatever the people wanna give you) of BYU creamery ice cream.

Saturdays are for sleeping in and starting the day slow with a naked breakfast and songs from Hawaii. And maybe ending the day with a rodeo?? Hint hint Stephen.....

The 3 Sucks of Oahu

We're in the midst of a deep post-vacation slump. Since getting home, we have eaten out fast food 4 times (In'N'Out, Chick-fil-A, Cafe Rio, Krispy Kreme), so clearly we have gone back to our pre-Whole 30 days, and worse. We streamed Honolulu radio stations to our laptops, didn't work out once, got in a fight, and watched 50 First Dates and cried. We are having some bad withdrawals. And to make matters worse, we learned that there is no dental school in Hawaii. 

So now I'm trying to convince myself that it wasn't that great over there. We didn't reallyyy have that awesome of a time. Kinda like how, when someone breaks up with you, you're all "Fine! I never loved you anyway! Loser!" 

That's Hawaii. Hawaii is my stupid ex-boyfriend. 

I planned our trip around the advice of many people - friends, family, Yelpers, Pinterest, and moms of my students. Mostly, I loved everything! But there were 3 things I would not recommend, and so I present to you:

The 3 Sucks of Oahu

1. Dole Plantation. Actually, I don't not recommend this, because it is the only place you can get pineapple dole whip, and that is worth the trip on its own. But the gardens, train ride, and walking tour are not free. Some people (*cough* Aunt Carol) might love the train and advertise it with phrases like "favorite part of my trip," but I think those people are a small part of the population. 

I heard a lot that the Dole Plantation is a tourist trap, but you kind of have to go.....and I guess I agree with that. You have to go with Dole Whip is the best thing ever {even though they give it to you in like a sacrament cup and charge you $6 or something like that}, but that's really all you need to do there. Get in, get your whip, and get out. 

Me too, Jim. Me too.

Margot and Gonzalo rode the train, but Stephen and I didn't. 

2. Polynesian Cultural Center. A lot of people raved about this to us. "It's kind of pricy, but it's amazing!! You have to go!" is what I heard over and over again. So we put it in our plans, even though we were a little apprehensive that any show could be worth $80. 

When we went to the (free) Turtle Bay luau, we were so impressed! It was super-fun, there was tons of audience participation, the food was great (although that did cost $20 which made the whole thing not exactly free), and the fire dancers were awesome. But no one ever talks about it, people just talk about the PCC. So we concluded that the PCC must be like ten times better! And we started to get excited. 

Then we went, discovered that it actually was going to cost us $102, shakily handed over the card, and headed in to the theater, grumping the whole way. $100?? For a show?! This had better be worth it, we grouched, sliding into our seats. 

Then I was annoyed because they don't let you take pictures, and in the middle, they bring out these amazing looking Pineapple Delights and only give them to the people who bought food, and then no one even eats them all the way! I was literally about to pick one up off the floor as we left because it looked like it hadn't even been touched. But I didn't. They also give leis to the luau payers, and some people left their perfectly good leis on their seats when the show was over. I did take one of those home with me.  

The show was good. I don't want to say anything bad about the actors or the music or the performances or even the special effects. And I guess people were right, that it's not like other luaus. It had a story and it was a bit longer. I just want to say, though, that it's not worth $50/person. I think it's mayyybe worth $25/person, but probably more like $15. There are 2,700 seats in the theater, with a minimum of 600 people in the audience every night. And most of those people are paying more than we were, because the food costs like $50 more. That's a lot of money!!

Also they don't let you take pictures and that kind of annoyed me, too. 

I actually feel really sad that the PCC is on this list, but unless you are butt-rich and don't care about money, I would just skip it. 

3. Koko Head Crater Hike. Apparently, Pearl Harbor navy guys train by running up and down this crater e'er day. It was a pretty good workout! There are railroad tracks that just go straight up. It's kind of like someone tranq'ed Stairway to Heaven and killed all the plants, and then called it Koko Head. It didn't help that we went at the sunniest time of day, and Stephen ran ahead, and we were both really sunburned. It also didn't help that I walked like 5 minutes away to fill up our 2-gallon thing of water, and then when I walked back the 5 minutes to the trailhead, Stephen told me he wasn't going to carry our water. {I guess I understand, but still.}

It did help that I counted the steps. Fun fact: there's a bridge in the middle where there's nothing under the railroad tracks and nothing to hold onto on the sides, like a railing or anything, and the last track before that bridge is Step #500. Fun fact #2: I counted exactly 1,000 railroad tracks to the top. 

The view at the top is fine, but I think we cursed ourselves by climbing Stairway to Heaven. Everything after that was just less impressive.

Haha! It was so bright at the top!

Oh who am I kidding. Hawaii is perfect. I love him and we are meant to be together and I'm never going to love anyone else the same way and no one will ever be as good to me and my life is totally ruined now!!