<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611</id><updated>2009-11-19T16:21:09.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JOYFUL LIFE</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-3164246122052996048</id><published>2009-11-19T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T16:21:09.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Australia/New Zealand Take 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so I officially stink at updating this and holding to my word. But, alas, here are smore pics and comments about the trip of all trips.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday, September 3: Whale watching allowed us our first views of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House from the water. While we didn't see any whales, we oohed and awed over cute dolphins, were guided around the ocean by our hunky captain James, and only lost one breakfast into the barf bag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNgF4HXTI/AAAAAAAAAFA/NLAARboDBrk/s1600/IMG_1762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 223px; HEIGHT: 168px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405952878945197362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNgF4HXTI/AAAAAAAAAFA/NLAARboDBrk/s320/IMG_1762.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNgQbzQII/AAAAAAAAAFI/QI0ILjzfebw/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 196px; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405952881779228802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNgQbzQII/AAAAAAAAAFI/QI0ILjzfebw/s320/IMG_1767.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNghgQ6JI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/UKMKbroPx4E/s1600/IMG_1774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 226px; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405952886361352338" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNghgQ6JI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/UKMKbroPx4E/s320/IMG_1774.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday, September 4: A breakfast of an Australian favorite--toast with veggiemite (yucky, as described by my face below), then on to the Sydney Wildlife World where we saw kangaroos and pet koala bears, and finally on to the Harry Potter on the world's largest IMAX!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXP1HpluzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/NBpU1UtqVxE/s1600/IMG_1866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405955439221652274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXP1HpluzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/NBpU1UtqVxE/s200/IMG_1866.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXP1APnEOI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a4H3nOwtiIM/s1600/IMG_1890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405955437233639650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXP1APnEOI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a4H3nOwtiIM/s200/IMG_1890.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXP1dLFe5I/AAAAAAAAAFo/5zxb37QoD04/s1600/IMG_1954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405955444999289746" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXP1dLFe5I/AAAAAAAAAFo/5zxb37QoD04/s200/IMG_1954.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday, September 5: Our last day in Sydney. We strolled and shopped the local market at the Rocks then closed the day with a walk halfway across the Harbour Bridge (it was cold!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXSaCq99yI/AAAAAAAAAFw/L4ufxO1z0K8/s1600/IMG_1978.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405958272563672866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXSaCq99yI/AAAAAAAAAFw/L4ufxO1z0K8/s200/IMG_1978.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday, September 6: Back to the airport for a much quicker flight to New Zealand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday, September 7: We caught the ferry from Auckland, across the harbour to a darling town called Davenport. Davenport offered great views of the city, fun shops, a view of the Maori legend volcano formed island, and tunnels created in the hillside for artillery and scouting against enemy ships. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXSadsqb-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/--2CEdeYvdg/s1600/IMG_2028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405958279818538978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXSadsqb-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/--2CEdeYvdg/s200/IMG_2028.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tuesday, September 8: Bring on the Tarlton's Underground Antartic Experience with penguins, sharks, and sting rays. Then a quick shuttle ride to the airport to pick up our rental car. First time driving on the other side of the road, we only got lost once and had NO wrecks. (Aren't you so proud Dad?!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXSa-uks_I/AAAAAAAAAGI/qvqbinjOanY/s1600/IMG_2073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405958288684921842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXSa-uks_I/AAAAAAAAAGI/qvqbinjOanY/s200/IMG_2073.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wednesday, September 9: Welcome to Rotorua: Geothermal Hotspot of New Zealand! We hit up Hell's Gate, a plethora of stinky sulphur pots and then took our own mud bath and sulphur spa in the "healing waters." After our tour we made our own Maori carvings (okay, I didn't actually make the gun) and then participated in a Maori Village feast and dance followed by sightings of the infamous kiwi bird.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXTapeXgvI/AAAAAAAAAGY/Naw9g6Dyw1s/s1600/IMG_2098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405959382491431666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXTapeXgvI/AAAAAAAAAGY/Naw9g6Dyw1s/s200/IMG_2098.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;      &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXTa4P9B6I/AAAAAAAAAGg/s-wM2Aqflxg/s1600/IMG_2106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405959386457507746" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXTa4P9B6I/AAAAAAAAAGg/s-wM2Aqflxg/s200/IMG_2106.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;      &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVFwv5isI/AAAAAAAAAGw/pD1eWTjaRVk/s1600/IMG_2150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405961222690015938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVFwv5isI/AAAAAAAAAGw/pD1eWTjaRVk/s200/IMG_2150.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday, September 10: An awesome hike through the New Zealand forests, a pretty drive to see some lakes and get a closer look at the New Zeland ferns, and a ride up the moutain for dinner looking out over Lake Rotorua and the city.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;      &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXTbMF10iI/AAAAAAAAAGo/qiKwq7i8DvQ/s1600/IMG_2117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405959391783801378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXTbMF10iI/AAAAAAAAAGo/qiKwq7i8DvQ/s200/IMG_2117.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;     &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVGHiIyDI/AAAAAAAAAG4/-NFWSd58G4Y/s1600/IMG_2189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405961228806309938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVGHiIyDI/AAAAAAAAAG4/-NFWSd58G4Y/s200/IMG_2189.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;      &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVGWraHxI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Md6jEl7w5hw/s1600/IMG_2193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405961232871726866" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVGWraHxI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Md6jEl7w5hw/s200/IMG_2193.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, only a few days left to blog about...hopefully sooner rather than later!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVG210fKI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/sqdPgrNuFXo/s1600/IMG_2215.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXVGoGLLvI/AAAAAAAAAHI/vXnXY6T4Rjc/s1600/IMG_2214.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-3164246122052996048?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/3164246122052996048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/11/australianew-zealand-take-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/3164246122052996048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/3164246122052996048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/11/australianew-zealand-take-2.html' title='Australia/New Zealand Take 2'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SwXNgF4HXTI/AAAAAAAAAFA/NLAARboDBrk/s72-c/IMG_1762.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-6811093368633215546</id><published>2009-10-16T02:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T03:50:30.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Land Down Under: Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Drum roll...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally! A new post! After several comments from friends and family about not posting for a while (okay, 3 months) I decided I should probably sit down and jot a few lines about my recent adventures. There definitely has been a lot happening in the craziness I call life and suppose it will most likely take a few posts to get everything in...so, here's your practice in patience (as if you haven't been waiting for at all right?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess we'll start with the big trip...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday morning, August 29, 2009&lt;/strong&gt;: Start out with a haircut ('cause I'm gonna be gone for 2 weeks!), final packing details, load up and head to the airport. Fly to LAX, grab our luggage, pay $5 after being guilted by the lady at the airport offering directions, find the right terminal, check in at Air New Zealand, board the really big plane at 7 ish pm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday, August 30&lt;/strong&gt;: Fly...for a long time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;This was actually a surprisingly nice flight. More leg room than expected, lots of movies (although I only watched one before falling asleep...for almost all of the 12 hour flight), and decent enough food for airplane food. Nice work Air NZ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday, August 31:&lt;/strong&gt; We finally land in Sydney, Australia! We take a fairly ghetto shuttle to our hotel--right in the heart of the city, check into our fancy hotel, shower, and hit the city.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Stg8MIAOarI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/pTCV2SlSDdw/s1600-h/IMG_1566.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393126732780694194" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Stg8MIAOarI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/pTCV2SlSDdw/s320/IMG_1566.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Darling Harbour...gorgeous day, great view of the city!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Stg8MhtSO2I/AAAAAAAAAEY/u447B6f9s_A/s1600-h/IMG_1571.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393126739680574306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Stg8MhtSO2I/AAAAAAAAAEY/u447B6f9s_A/s320/IMG_1571.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Piermont Bridge connects the 2 sides of Darling Harbour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday, September 1:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;My favorite day in Sydney!&lt;/em&gt; We visited the Hyde Park Barracks (where they used to keep the criminals sent from Europe), St Mary's Cathedral (impressive), the Royal Botanical Gardens (beautiful), caught our first glimpse of the Sydney Opera House, and witnessed the delightful talents of Ben Folds at his concert in the Opera House (can I say amazing?!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2238f966c2adc643" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAO3T1daHheEeH3ZcEQIwEb_wqzcSQckt0wp0YMwZlpDLNRb90VVP-iUYnKoRpF642kKvYfVagBp-1PrTwaRmsBAu-TF4hqPZxtao6JVOdkLWwAZWC8GvAA4fRj4ELoAs3OOFP9af8NQC9JtYK7C9jq4xbD9rcf9yYBxsLfEckQj3Uy5T5ZJ9TChKjYH-WfTnm8SBqqO-vbhuVMjZTMmrOg3vun7qL8aPxf6Uh3wNlOIn%26sigh%3DsLM6KkzrWViMpQ3I_VyAEl7ljBY%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2238f966c2adc643%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DKdG-pyCF5AZWCA94wwUIPz4yce4&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAO3T1daHheEeH3ZcEQIwEb_wqzcSQckt0wp0YMwZlpDLNRb90VVP-iUYnKoRpF642kKvYfVagBp-1PrTwaRmsBAu-TF4hqPZxtao6JVOdkLWwAZWC8GvAA4fRj4ELoAs3OOFP9af8NQC9JtYK7C9jq4xbD9rcf9yYBxsLfEckQj3Uy5T5ZJ9TChKjYH-WfTnm8SBqqO-vbhuVMjZTMmrOg3vun7qL8aPxf6Uh3wNlOIn%26sigh%3DsLM6KkzrWViMpQ3I_VyAEl7ljBY%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2238f966c2adc643%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DKdG-pyCF5AZWCA94wwUIPz4yce4&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wednesday, September 2:&lt;/strong&gt; A little R &amp;amp; R on Bondi Beach. On our way to catch the bus however, we ran into some sort of military ceremony where we saw military representatives from all over the world including the good ole USA and some awesome gentlemen from Papa New Guinea wearing what we fondly termed the "fuzzy wuzzies"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SthAc_qZNSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/sabMZ083zME/s1600-h/IMG_1734.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393131420645930274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SthAc_qZNSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/sabMZ083zME/s320/IMG_1734.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;The military guys from New Guinea in their traditional garb...awesome right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SthAdFUKCEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/datxLLAkWVs/s1600-h/IMG_1742.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393131422163273794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SthAdFUKCEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/datxLLAkWVs/s320/IMG_1742.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bondi Beach...beautiful, but a little too cold for me and my swimsuit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Here's to Installment #1. Stay tuned for part 2 to appear shortly...I promise&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-6811093368633215546?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/6811093368633215546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/10/land-down-under-part-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/6811093368633215546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/6811093368633215546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/10/land-down-under-part-1.html' title='The Land Down Under: Part 1'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Stg8MIAOarI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/pTCV2SlSDdw/s72-c/IMG_1566.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-5816704987219057358</id><published>2009-07-28T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T15:44:24.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Girl Backpack</title><content type='html'>Sometimes in my life I am forced to eat my words and swallow my pride...actually, kind of a lot of the time. For example, I swore I would never live in Utah, yet, here I am a resident of Salt Lake City, UT for over 2 years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, in my formative years I balked at the idea of eating raw fish in the form of sushi. Never would I participate in such a disgusting food trend. Well, until I actually did try it and now want to eat it on a weekly basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the fact that I professed I would never wear leggings. They were a fad; I hate fads. Then, I bought a pair, wore them, and actually liked them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The list could go on, but in the past 2 years I have been living the hard reality of this truth. In my younger years (up till about age 10) I loved camping. So much in fact that we would pitch a tent in my backyard and sleep out there for weeks on end. (I now understand what geniuses my parents were on this plan...kick the kids to the backyard and have a night of absolute peace and quiet.) Then somewhere around the pubescent stage of life I began to hate the idea of spending a night in the great outdoors. This detest for camping stayed with me for years...through high school and even on to college. In the later years of college I began to reconcile this and even began to enjoy the outdoor activities (that did not involve sleeping in a tent), but in my stubborn way would not admit this to my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I moved to Salt Lake I realized what a myriad of adventuring there was to do in and around the state and decided I wanted to become an avid outdoors woman. This declaration did not come without some teasing from my parents, but when they saw I was serious about it I think they were quite joyous about my re-found love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, over the last couple of years, I worked to add to my collection of gear (it kind of takes a lot of stuff) and sought out occasions to adventure in the wilderness. Then, for Christmas last year Santa delivered a most desired present...a backpack! And not just your everyday, haul around your books sort of bag. This was a woman's isoform outdoor pack designed to mold to my body and carry all the essential items I may need for a week (or more) in the wilderness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To put this good backpack and gear into use, last week, after quite a bit of preparation, my parents and I took off on my very first overnight backpacking trip. Here's how the week played out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday night I drove to Burley, arriving around 1030 pm, to find my parents divvying up food and still packing. After hours of adjusting, re-adjusting, packing, and re-packing we headed for bed around 2 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning was an early start considering our late bedtime and after enjoying a warm shower--my last for 4 days--we loaded up the jeep and headed on our way. We decided to take the "scenic route" through Sun Valley (where we saw our first wildlife--a fox attempting to hunt and kill a badger, beaver, or river otter...we're not sure what his prey was...until we almost hit both of them with our jeep. Luckily they escaped, although not sure the eventual fate of the fox's prey.), over Galena Summit, down to Stanley and along the Salmon River to Challis. According to my dad, this is some of the most beautiful scenery Idaho has to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9cNS4uA2I/AAAAAAAAACw/-8eQyu0AAFg/s1600-h/IMG_1395.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363607064699339618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9cNS4uA2I/AAAAAAAAACw/-8eQyu0AAFg/s320/IMG_1395.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four and half hours later we arrived in Challis, ID (population around 900). After a stop for some grub and to hear stories of mom playing b-ball and getting her rodeo on in Challis back in "the good ole days" it was back on the road. We hit a dirt road 8 miles outside Challis and 2 hours and 50 miles later we reached the trailhead at an altitude of 8,450 feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609839557712754" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9eu0Cgm3I/AAAAAAAAAC4/JeuPCOMFEMk/s200/IMG_1397.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our last decent photos as we exam the map of trails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9evB9gCFI/AAAAAAAAADA/LaRAVm4pVMY/s1600-h/IMG_1399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609843294799954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9evB9gCFI/AAAAAAAAADA/LaRAVm4pVMY/s200/IMG_1399.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and Mom geared up and ready to hit the trail!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first day's hike was to take us 4.5 miles into Cathedral Lake. We estimated with breaks and all it would take us between 2 and 2.5 hours to arrive at our destination. So, about 4:30 we took off. We hiked and hiked and hiked some more. After about 2.5 hours of hiking I was wiped out and not feeling like we were getting close to any lake sitings. My initial thought, &lt;em&gt;We are so much slower than I thought we would be!&lt;/em&gt; Eventually we hit a cutoff we assumed to be to the lake. Another .5 a mile and we came to a sign: Harbour Lake 1 mile, Terrace Lakes 1.5 miles, Mirror Lake 1.5 miles. No Cathedral Lake. We pulled out our maps and, much to our chagrin we had passed the cutoff to Cathedral Lake 2 miles back! Luckily the split in trails was right near a babbling little stream so we decided to make camp there and make a new route for the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363613340072777074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9h6keVlXI/AAAAAAAAADI/cEbNj8IuZGQ/s200/IMG_1401.JPG" /&gt;Campsite numero uno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2 of our trip consisted of a short 2 mile round trip day hike to Heart Lake where my dad decided to test his fishing skills (he did catch lots of fish, they just weren't anything to be excited over) and Mom and I read our books and tried not to be attacked by the plethora of mosquitoes infesting the area. When we arrived back to camp we loaded up and headed uphill to our next site for camping. It was a steep climb of just over a mile with a 700 foot elevation gain. But, it was worth it to see the beautiful falls at the outlet of Wilson Lake and to camp in between 2 gorgeous lakes (Wilson and Harbour Lakes) where our fire pit was already made and there was even a log to sit on! (The things you cherish when in the wilderness.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3 was a rest day...at least for me. After 2 nights of not sleeping well I took only a short hike and spent most of the day reading, sleeping, and enjoying the sunshine. We all took a little time to clean up though, doing some laundry in the lake and even going for a bitterly cold swim (50 degree water my friends is cold) in attempt to wash away the build up of dust, sweat, suncreen, and deet on our skin. We also met some of the savvy, hardcore trail crew members working on clearing some trails in the area who came from Minnesota, Florida, and Vermont to spend there summer working for the SCA (Student Conservation Association). Nice people. The highlight of the day though, was showing off my newly acquired McGyver skills to my dad by starting, tending, and keeping a fire going. Impressive, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm91_jFc_II/AAAAAAAAADg/gBgYpj444js/s1600-h/IMG_1441.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363635415831870594" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm91_jFc_II/AAAAAAAAADg/gBgYpj444js/s320/IMG_1441.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wilson and Harbour Lakes from above. We camped in between the 2 lakes. Great spot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, Day 4, was our last day in the Bighorn Crags and while I'd had a great time I was glad to be going home. We woke up early, took down camp and loaded up our packs (which were lots lighter considering all our food was gone). Our hike was just under 7 miles to get back to our jeep and after what seemed to be never ending ascents and descents we finally arrived at the trail head 3.5 hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm91_-BjlzI/AAAAAAAAADo/Uy28y1IfuDw/s1600-h/IMG_1447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363635423063283506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm91_-BjlzI/AAAAAAAAADo/Uy28y1IfuDw/s320/IMG_1447.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So relieved to be back at the "You are here" part of the map.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final Stats:&lt;br /&gt;Total Miles Hiked: 18&lt;br /&gt;Highest Elevation Reached: just over 9100 feet&lt;br /&gt;Hours Driven: 17&lt;br /&gt;Total Mosquito Bites: too many to count&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-5816704987219057358?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/5816704987219057358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/07/big-girl-backpack.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/5816704987219057358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/5816704987219057358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/07/big-girl-backpack.html' title='Big Girl Backpack'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sm9cNS4uA2I/AAAAAAAAACw/-8eQyu0AAFg/s72-c/IMG_1395.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-3646231167877831312</id><published>2009-06-16T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T02:42:53.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the Klutz Lane</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When I was growing up I took ballet and jazz lessons. Starting at the age of 3 until I was 15 I attended classes sometimes up to 4 or 5 days a week. As a teenager, my mother told me (and lots of other people) she attributed that fact that I wasn't a complete klutz and that I was still living to dance. What she was really saying is that dance lessons had trained some of the awkwardness and poor coordination right out of me. Not entirely though. And, much to my dismay, it has done nothing to help with the ridiculous situations and seemingly endless occasions where minimal common sense, lack of observation, and poor memory reign abundant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I was reminded of this idiosyncrasy of mine--if you'd like to call it that, although perhaps conundrum is a better word for it--on Sunday night. I had been working the night shift for the last several days and was scheduled to work Saturday through Tuesday nights. To say night shifts are not my favorite thing, would be a gross understatement. I don't mind the actual work on nights (I mean, I am posting on my blog right now...at work...in the middle of the night...) but I hate my life when I work them. All I want to do is sleep and lay in my bed before I go back to work. Sociality is non-existent when I work nights and getting to the gym is worse than pulling teeth without numbing. The night shift just isn't very conducive to Erika being a happy, extroverted, kind, or mentally with it girl (the last one being a small problem considering the fact I'm a nurse and hold people's lives in my hand!). But, I digress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Saturday night I worked. I came home Sunday morning and slept. ALL DAY. I had to work Sunday night, so I skipped church and wasted away the beautiful sunny day sleeping and laying in my bed. Our home teachers were coming that night so I dragged myself out of my cozy and blissful slumber at 4 pm and hurried to shower, eat, and get ready before they arrived. They came, gave us a nice little lesson, boosted our self-esteem, and promised to send Jeremiah's roommate to replace our front porch lightbulb later that week. I chatted with my roomies (Corinne, Megan, and almost roomie Rachel) then headed off in the pouring rain to report to work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I got to the hospital early. Very early. 20 minutes early. A rare occasion for me. So, I bought a diet coke and a bag of cinnamon bears from the cafeteria to share with my pod partners (the other nurses I would work with that night) and mosied upstairs. My name was not on the assignment board. My name was not on the schedule. I looked in the schedule book. I was NOT supposed to work. Blasted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Typical Erika moment. (Seniors have theirs; I have mine.) Of course I would do something like this. I would show up to work when I don't even have to. It couldn't have been a Saturday night when I would have been more than happy to go home and find something fun to do. This was Sunday night. What can you possibly do on a rainy Sunday night? I'd slept away the sunshine, missed church, and would be awake for the WHOLE night because I'd been dreaming all day. I was left with little else, but to return home, chat a little more with the girls and then watch episodes on Hulu until 430 am when I was finally able to sleep...until 230 pm Monday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know, it would be one thing if this was a rare occurence, but these sorts of things happen to me all the time. For instance, in March I missed my flight from Seattle to SLC. I wasn't late or in the bathroom. I was sitting in the terminal, 100 feet from the gate, facing the window where the plane was boarding. They paged me overhead; then they gave away my seat.(It does help me feel better that at least I wasn't alone on this one and my 2 friends were with me.) You can't script things like that. It's purely dumb. STUPID in all capital letters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, take the time I backed out of the lean-to my landlord calls a carport and knocked the side mirror off my drivers side door. Which then had to be taped to my car to hold it up until I could replace it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the day in college when I resorted to using dish soap in the dishwasher because we were out of dishwasher detergent and I thought it would be fine as long as I just "used less." Let's just say we had a repeat of the bubbly floor scrubbing scene in Cinderella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and let's not forget the double date I planned with my friend Natalie when I used my "secret trick" to reheat the rolls in the oven with a wet paper bag, then forgot about the rolls and caught the oven and rolls on fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the morning I locked my keys in the trunk of my car @ 530 am in Burley. Where I don't have a spare key. Where the lock smith lives 45 minutes away. When I had to drive back to SLC because I was on-call at work. And then I never got called in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The list could go on and on and on. I'm sure you could probably list 10 things similar to this...even if you barely know me. My mother and father could take pages; which is why they're not allowed to comment on this blog post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-3646231167877831312?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/3646231167877831312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/life-in-klutz-lane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/3646231167877831312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/3646231167877831312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/life-in-klutz-lane.html' title='Life in the Klutz Lane'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-7881630537389795943</id><published>2009-06-11T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T02:43:23.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend Dates</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Much to my father's dismay I have never been much of a dater. I mean, I go on dates, it's just that around the 2nd consecutive date I somehow seem to lose favor with the idea. I date around (not in the skanky way people!), I just can't seem to find bliss in the long term dating relationship. I've tried. I've analyzed myself, and I just can't seem to figure out what my problem is. I could be a very interesting case study for some psychology major out there...and I could definitely use some insight for myself too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;However, regardless of my inability to participate in an extended dating relationship with a member of the opposite sex, I am really good at friend dating. I love it. I'm addicted. I go through withdrawals when I miss out. I could go on friend dates daily...with the same friend even! No matter my flaws in the romantic dating department, I flourish in the friend dating &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;arena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And why wouldn't I, or anyone else for that matter, love friend dates? Unlike romantic dating, with friend dates there is no fuss. I can call and arrange the friend date or the other person can. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;There is no time frame; we can arrange to get together the day of or a month in advance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I don't have to worry about what to wear, how to do my hair, or what my friend will think of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;There is no limit on how short or how long our friend date needs to last-any reason to cut it short is acceptable and not "blowing them off," and if we're having a good time we can stay out until the wee hours of the morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can say anything without worry of unkind retort, feeling dumb, or killing the conversation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It doesn't matter if I'm taller than my friend which means I get to wear my high heels if I want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I never have to worry about the follow up. I don't have to wait for anyone to call, email, text, or facebook me. I can call the next day or the next week. I could put a nice card in the mail if I really wanted to...it might even be more appreciated! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I always feel good after a friend date. Always. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Friend dates are perhaps one of the greatest things of the civilized world. They were probably even great before the world became civilized, come to think of it. Every week I try to make sure I have at least one friend date. I feel very fortunate that I have some really great friends with whom I can friend date often. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;These peeps are my top 5 favorite friend daters at present. My life would be officially lame, dull, anti-social, and fairly miserable without them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3oDnFQI/AAAAAAAAABU/eb2h7ikZJCc/s1600-h/IMG_1122.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346007909310862594" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3oDnFQI/AAAAAAAAABU/eb2h7ikZJCc/s200/IMG_1122.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Rachel, aka Twiggy, is the girl I call for sushi, movies, concerts, staying in, going out, talking, laughing, crying, desserts, and everything in between.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV4THq3HI/AAAAAAAAABs/WbKEgocVyUU/s1600-h/IMG_1212.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346007920870612082" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV4THq3HI/AAAAAAAAABs/WbKEgocVyUU/s200/IMG_1212.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; My haven from work, Michelle keeps me busy when the rest of the world is working in the middle of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3jq9E1I/AAAAAAAAABc/ypcSreosdwA/s1600-h/IMG_1133.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346007908133704530" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3jq9E1I/AAAAAAAAABc/ypcSreosdwA/s200/IMG_1133.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Perhaps my best friend dater ever. Angie says it like it is and helps make me brave during our weekly friend dates. Plus we always eat really well on our dates!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3zNcjyI/AAAAAAAAABk/AgE18idN5gM/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346007912304906018" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3zNcjyI/AAAAAAAAABk/AgE18idN5gM/s200/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; My go to girl for all things advice. Chrislyn always knows just what I need and makes time for me even with her new hubby!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3brDbqI/AAAAAAAAABM/PTnLM0LlCC0/s1600-h/Spring+SLC+08+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346007905986637474" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3brDbqI/AAAAAAAAABM/PTnLM0LlCC0/s200/Spring+SLC+08+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt; He'll make you laugh until you cry. You might even pee your pants. Joel's the boy you call for an all around good time. The best guy friend a girl could ask for!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-7881630537389795943?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/7881630537389795943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/friend-dates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/7881630537389795943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/7881630537389795943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/friend-dates.html' title='Friend Dates'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/SjDV3oDnFQI/AAAAAAAAABU/eb2h7ikZJCc/s72-c/IMG_1122.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-4979542936376660382</id><published>2009-06-11T00:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T02:43:37.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF 4 TOFW</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last weekend I took a very memorable trip to Pocatello, ID. I know, many of you are thinking there's not much that's memorable about Pokey, ID. Well, let me tell you, when I roll into town, there's always something memorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It began with a 2 hour drive with my long time friend (actually she holds the record for longest friend ever in my life...23 years and counting) and pseudo sister Corinne. We jammed out to some old school music that took me right back to being 14 and going on Young Women's road trips. Hairbrush in hand and Celine blaring through the car, there's nothing like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Pocatello to meet our mama's, see my grandparents, and await the arrival of the Randall ladies (also known as my adopted mother and sister here in SLC). When all were gathered together we took off for the best mother-daughter weekend event ever--Time Out For Women Pocatello style!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was phenomenal! The music was inspiring; the speakers were funny, charismatic, witty, endearing, and memorable; the seats were awesome (2nd row...thanks Chrislyn!); and the Mini Dome (oh, I think they call it the Holt Arena now) was FREEZING! in JUNE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time at the event and even more fun laughing, joking, shopping (of course we did, Rachel was with us!), and eating. A few highlights of the weekend include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My grandma trying to pawn off another purse on me. "Well, dear, if you want it you can have it. I'm getting tired of this one. And, see, I brought 2 with me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eating space burgers at the Tasty Treat. Yum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Watching Debbie rub shoulders with Michael Wilcox and Chris Stewart. She has connections with EVERYONE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Squishing 8 people into Colleen's SUV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Terri counting in the men's turned women's restroom. "There are only 10 stalls and 24 urinals in here. No wonder men get out so fast!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eating Buddy's famous salad dressing and pizza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Grandma succeeding in giving me yet another pair of shoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Getting my 2nd birthday party for turning 24.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Having mom's homemade cheesecake! BEST EVER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Grandma forgetting. Yea, just forgetting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Setting up my new tent in the living room with my dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Being hugged by my grandpa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Driving back to UT with the Randall Ladies...okay, sleeping through the drive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, as you can see, definitely a memorable weekend in Pocatello. You can all take back your thoughts on the matter now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, and special thanks to Chrislyn for having a job that makes us all better and gives a chance for a time out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-4979542936376660382?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/4979542936376660382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/tgif-tofw.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/4979542936376660382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/4979542936376660382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/tgif-tofw.html' title='TGIF 4 TOFW'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-1525792648683509390</id><published>2009-06-03T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T02:43:55.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Stop Shop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Yesterday I took a trip to Costco. Let me just say, for the record, Costco and I have a very love hate sort of relationship. I mean, how can you not love Costco? It's the only place you can drop off your photos; buy electronics, jewelry, housewares, clothes, and groceries; sample your potential purchases; have an eye exam; pick up your prescriptions; get your car fixed; eat lunch (or order dinner to go); and gas up your car all in one place. Not to mention the fact that you can buy all the 2 year storage supplies you might ever need in one quick sweep or walk away with 32 cans of sweet &amp;amp; condensed milk all for a ridiculously low price! Just a few of the reasons Costco is great and I'm in love with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But let's face it. Costco is still my arch enemy too. Costco is also the only store that can convince you you actually need 32 cans of sweet &amp;amp; condensed milk as a single person. I mean, how often do I really cook with sweet &amp;amp; condensed milk...how often do I cook period? But somehow, when I'm there, I suddenly need it. And not only that, I also need those 4 books I won't read till next year, the 10 lbs of fruit I will never--in any stretch of the imagination--be able to finish by myself, and the 64 pack of candy bars that will only end up on my hips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It never fails that it will be busy--either with small children running amuck and cutting in front of my cart or old people moseying along causing me to see all the things I don't need and then putting it in my cart. And no matter how hard I try, I can't leave without spending at least $50...usually it's a lot more. Here exists the hate part of this volatile relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So, yesterday, when I knew I needed to return a dress to Costco (which I have put off for sometime) I pepped talked myself into the notion that I would simply return the dress and then run to my car with superhero like speed. I would conquer Costco's mystical pull. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I failed. It sucked me in. Fresh raspberries had just arrived...I &lt;em&gt;needed&lt;/em&gt; them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It was the middle of the afternoon, on Tuesday. The old people were there. I moseyed. I ate samples. I found 2 new books. I put a shirt in my cart and then put it back (one small triumph). I bought raspberries...and blueberries...and a bag of veggie crisps that I had sampled (they're tricky and very smart). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Then, in the freezer section, as I tried the "new black angus blue cheese burgers they just got in," the cute little lady at the sample table stopped. Our conversation went something like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Ooh, that top is so cute."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Thanks. My friend just bought it for me for my birthday. Doesn't she have good taste?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Yes! It's just so feminine and flowy and pretty. And just looks so good on you. And it doesn't hurt that you're so pretty too. And anything looks good on a size 5 like you. You just look so young, like your 20."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Well, thank you. I think I'm gonna keep circling this area and coming back to see you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Let's just say, that yesterday, the love side of things won out for Costco. In fact, I think I might go back next week...my berries will probably be moldy by then and I'll need new ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-1525792648683509390?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/1525792648683509390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-stop-shop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/1525792648683509390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/1525792648683509390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-stop-shop.html' title='One Stop Shop'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-7001842317535189275</id><published>2009-05-29T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T02:44:11.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty Four is a Good Number</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sh-TEqiiywI/AAAAAAAAAA0/juugKjWoJUw/s1600-h/IMG_1221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341149391432633090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sh-TEqiiywI/AAAAAAAAAA0/juugKjWoJUw/s320/IMG_1221.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It started on Wednesday--a whole day early--with a surprise delivery to the hospital. Someone sent something for me? to work? are you sure they have the right Erika Phillips? But, yes a special floral delivery awaited me in the lobby of PCMC with a card signed lovingly from Mom, Dad, and the bro, Mike. I couldn't help but smile all day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've never gotten flowers at work before...and I always swore I'd be one of those girls who wouldn't want flowers. I think I change my mind now. I like getting flowers. Feel free to send them anytime you want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The perfect start to an absolutely phenomenal birthday. Catch a few highlights of my very best 24th birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Waking up to sunshine, a happy birthday text, and going for a run to the gym&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Having amazing french toast breakfast with Corinne (world's best lifelong friend &amp;amp; sister)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Free money to spend at REI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Three words: MASSAGE, FACIAL, PEDICURE...best bday gift I've ever given myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Reading facebook posts of birthday wishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Talking to my college girlfriends on the phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dinner with some of my most favorite peeps &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Laughing with Joel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Being worshipped (literally on hands and knees) by Nate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Getting hugs from people I love (THANK YOU!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Being sung the Birthday Song by Terri (she's never missed a birthday yet!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The perfect "Betty" gift--I can now make cupcakes that will change your life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Talking to my mom and dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Getting a card from my Grandparents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Getting texts from lots of people I love (THANK YOU!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hitting a pinata with a broom...and a 2x4...and having Ryan finally break it open&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Picking up all the candy from the grass--in the dark :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Blowing out the candles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The perfect H &amp;amp; M top to add to my wardrobe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eating Tres Leches Cake made by my fabulous roommie Megan (you are the best!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Having the SSS reunited!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;An e-card from my co-worker (and life &amp;amp; love advice giver) Dave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Feeling like the luckiest girl in the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Being loved!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tonight as I'm replaying the day I just can't help but count my blessings. How am I so blessed to have so much good in my life, to have so many people to love and who love me back? I don't think I can imagine a day better than today; it was fairly perfect!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks to each of you for making this birthday positively memorable!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-7001842317535189275?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/7001842317535189275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/05/twenty-four-is-good-number.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/7001842317535189275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/7001842317535189275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/05/twenty-four-is-good-number.html' title='Twenty Four is a Good Number'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/Sh-TEqiiywI/AAAAAAAAAA0/juugKjWoJUw/s72-c/IMG_1221.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-3898909452066384272</id><published>2009-05-26T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T21:41:16.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T Fest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/ShzDQWqHfJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2ePLTjywR30/s1600-h/IMG_1203.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340357943882120338" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/ShzDQWqHfJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2ePLTjywR30/s320/IMG_1203.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;There is a 3 year old patient on my unit at the hospital who knows how to make moose calls, is covered with fake tattoos, shoots the nurses with his orange gun when they come in the room, and loves his daddy's music. I don't know what it is about that little dude, but he has captured my heart. Maybe it's his effervescent smile or the way he gets so excited when he watches his hunting movies. Maybe it's how he puffs up with pride when his baby sister is in the room or the fact that he has more girlfriends than most men could handle and there are more girls vying for a spot on the girlfriend list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm not the only one who is smitten by him either. About every nurse on our unit loves this little cowboy and his incredible and loving family. I guess that's why, when I heard about the benefit in his honor I was jumping at the bit to go (along with about 25 of my other colleagues). I wasn't even deterred by the fact that it was in Woodruff, UT (middle of nowhere), or that it would keep me out late when I had to work very early the next day, or that it was called the Testicle Festival. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, on Saturday afternoon, I loaded in the car with a couple of co-workers and headed to Woodruff. (For those of you unfamiliar with this town, don't worry, so were we. In fact, we missed the turn and ended up driving 15 minutes further into Wyoming than necessary (actually, is it ever necessary to drive into Wyoming?). But seriously, I-80 EAST to Evanston and then North 20 miles on Highway 89 drops you directly in the heart of Woodruff, UT.) We arrived at City Hall, the only building with much substance other than the LDS church across the hall, to find the event hopping...with about 100 people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;First was a concert, played by non other than my patient's dad, and it was inspiring. Great music, good lyrics, and made me want to marry a cowboy--tight jeans and all. And then, yes, bring it on, the cowboy's sac lunch itself...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bull Testicles. Yep, that's right. Also known as the Rocky Mountain Oyster, it's a protein packed crescent shaped pieces of meat, battered and deep fat fried. And, because this is my year of no regrets I said, "pile 'em up on my plate, Sir." Hmmm...chewy, a bit rubbery, and tastes kind of like chicken. Definitely not the best thing I've ever eaten, but it could be worse. And, for my little cowboy back at PCMC I'll take one for the team!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-3898909452066384272?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/3898909452066384272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/05/t-fest.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/3898909452066384272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/3898909452066384272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/05/t-fest.html' title='T Fest'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VkBrLucNQeQ/ShzDQWqHfJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2ePLTjywR30/s72-c/IMG_1203.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6461445743225405611.post-2674158156009504337</id><published>2009-05-22T20:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T22:27:49.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Universal Truths</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today as I was driving home from work I was contemplating 3 things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am tired. So very tired.&lt;br /&gt;2. I should go the gym. I don't want to go to the gym. I am tired and my buns still hurt from yesterday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;3. It's Friday. I should probably do something social and cool since it's Friday. I'm tired and everyone I would want to hang out with tonight is out of town, working, or on a date (friend date, romantic date...some sort of date).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired won out. I will stay in tonight. However, in the course of this thought process I realized many things happened to me on this tired Friday--most of little consequence, but nonetheless amusing and to be shared. And since I am tired, antisocial, and know that my brain will not remember any of the things that I felt impressed to share today by the time I wake up tomorrow morning, I caved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blogging life begins. 1038 pm on May 22, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, for the universal truths of which I have been reminded this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If it is a quiet morning at work, it is only a matter of time until chaos strikes...as it did today @ approximately 1100 am.&lt;br /&gt;2. If there is a SALE I will buy something. Actually, if I go in a store, I will buy something. I will wear it the next day and I will feel cute.&lt;br /&gt;3. No matter how many times I clean my room each week it ends up messy again in about 12 hours.&lt;br /&gt;4. If I washed my car yesterday, it WILL rain today.&lt;br /&gt;5. Kids still sell lemonade on the corner. They are estatic if you give them $2 when they only charged you 50 cents. Buying a $2 lemonade from the kids on the corner is a good investment. (It makes me smile.)&lt;br /&gt;6. Holding up your pants while you are running because they are too big to stay up is not in style and is not cool, no matter how many people do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe #7 should be that I like lists if you haven't noticed already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6461445743225405611-2674158156009504337?l=erikalind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/feeds/2674158156009504337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/05/universal-truths.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/2674158156009504337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6461445743225405611/posts/default/2674158156009504337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erikalind.blogspot.com/2009/05/universal-truths.html' title='Universal Truths'/><author><name>Erika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10161931015876024362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01348494757719567276'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>