Round of Anitibiotics

Brielle has an infection in her tooth, due to a large cavity.  Brielle hates the taste of mint, therefore, hates brushing, flossing, rinsing... all of the above.

Izzy has an infection in her front paws, due to spinters.  This stinkin' dog prefers to chew wood, rather than toys designed for "chewing." 

For the next 10 days, these two are on a prescribed regemin of antibotics -- 3 times a day for Brielle, 2 times a day for Izzy.  Apparantly, they have chosen to bear their afflictions together, at the same time.

Chris went to feed Cocoa last night and I begged... please don't tell me that the horse is sick, too.


Dear Dallas,

You cost me two (2) pounds during my 6 day stay. 

Your insanely delicious "Texas Burger" with BBQ Sauce, Smoked Bacon, Cheese & Pickles was by far, THE best burger I've had in my life.  The Roasted Chicken & Spinach pizza with Alfredo sauce was heavenly... I ate the rest later that night in my hotel room.  The Diet Coke was always chilled and oh so refreshing.  I had at least one each day.

Although the food was delicious, my efforts at decreasing my weight was rudely interrupted by the gourmet foods of your glorious city.  I'm not happy about this.

Heavier than Last Week, in Utah


Imagine This...

400 of my piers (Association Executives) from across the nation in one room.  "Interactive Styles" were being assessed.  The object of this session was to learn to interact and lead people with different personality profiles.  The idea was to gain the ability to recognize the way others respond to communication, therefore, adapting to better communicate with them.  Is this all making sense so far?  Good.  Let's move on.

There are 4 styles (I promise you, this will not be boring).

A - The Expert. Experts are detailed and very thorough.  They ask lots of questions, and expect that you know your stuff, because they know theirs.  Experts are extremely conservative and won't take risks.  They thrive on a more technical approach, not logic, and are respectful of policies.  Experts keep their promises, are on time and don't miss appointments.  They are more concerned with accuracy than speed, and itemize tasks with checklists to ensure that no stone is unturned.  As a linear thinker, they like everything laid out in front of them.

B - The Romantic.  Romantics have a very emotional though process.  They are very good with non-verbal communication, are compassionate and very caring.  Romantics are loyal & self sacrificing & show gratitude often.  They value relationships, smile a lot, love to make small talk, and are personable.  When working with a romantic, remember to be friendly, respect their feelings and show appreciation.

C - The Mastermind.  The Mastermind has the attitude "if it ain't broke... break it."  They love projects, and don't mind making mistakes -- they learn best from their mistakes.  The Mastermind is fearless and loves taking risks.  The are very conceptual & systematic thinkers and are always looking at the "bigger picture." 

D - The Warrior.  Oh, the Warrior.  Warrior's don't want world peace -- they want world domination.  They are very logical thinkers and just want to get to the bottom line, as quickly as possible.  They've got a "get 'er done" kind of attitude.  Warriors hate small talk and tend to be very impatient.  They prefer to be left alone to get their work done.  Warriors are intense, direct and not interested in details or stories.  They value status and the deal.  They are impatient, but decisive and are competitive.

You are dying to know what I am, aren't you.

So, we were asked a series of questions to determine our primary interactive style and secondary.  It was said that most people obviously interact well with people similar to them, but can easily transition to communicating with people of their  secondary interactive style.  Very few however, interact well with every interactive style.  It was said that it causes emotional stress.

My primary interactive style is A - The Expert with a secondary style of B - The Romantic.  Surprised?  I wasn't at all.

However, either I'm unique -- or a freak, because when the instructor stumbled on my combination (I was one of 3 in the room), he felt the need to put it on display.  I had to stand up in front the the room while he described personality traits about myself that I'm fully aware of, yet like to keep hidden.  Yes, this has happened before.  This time however, I  didn't run to my hotel room and cry.  I was prepared this time around.

I took an extra quiz, thinking it would be prefect to know the interactive style of my husband.  I was certain that he would have some strange combination of Expert/Mastermind (lacking in the Romantic side).  The results were not at all what I had expected.  Every score in each category was was perfectly balanced.  What the crap?  He's that one in a million guy that communicates well with every personality type.  I assure you, he enjoyed this information.

Oh, and I prefer to be thought of as unique, not some kind of freak.


Dallas, TX

With an occasional airplane stop through the Dallas Fort Worth Airport, I've never really been to Dallas.  Or seen it, for that matter.  Now I have.  It's beautiful and HUGE.  Sky scrapers everywhere, and so many little odd little parks in between.

My conference is at the Sheraton Dallas Hotel...

I'm currently on the 5th floor in my room...

But I should be here...

...getting my fitness on before sitting my behind in a chair for the next 5 days.  Conferences.  Days and days of Conferences and Training.

You know were I want to be?  Back in Providence painting and cleaning and moving into my new house.  Oh well, that will come soon enough.  Guess I'll go hit the gym.


"Bought the Farm"

Have you ever heard this phrase?  I looked up the origin and it's quite depressing.  The phrase predates World War II, but came into common use at that time due to the large numbers of training casualties due inexperienced pilots.  It literally means dead.  Passed away.  Expired.  Vacated this world.

So, when you hear somebody say "he bought the farm," he's gone to meet his maker.

Except for in my case...  'cause I bought the farm!!!

I've been wanting to tell everyone I know, but Chris asked forced me to contain all my excitement -- which, by the way, resulted in the worst hair cut in history (he hasn't forgiven me for it yet, either).  I blame him.  He said "wait until it's final, Emily."  

It's final!!!

It's 3200 sq. ft. of Cape style heaven, with 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms and horse property!  Yes folks, included is an acre of land, perfect for a horse (or in our case, two).  With the weather here seeming more like Seattle, the horses will keep dry under shelter and there will be no rotting, wet hay this year.

Chris and I keep asking each other if this is really happening.  I can't wait to bring Dandy to Cache Valley -- Cocoa will have a buddy!  I'm positive Izzy will love the company, too.  Brielle is already excited about morning chores and I'll be able to watch my horses from my kitchen window.

We're making a few improvements before moving in, so it'll be several weeks until it's officially called "home."  I'm counting down the days.   Ahhhhhhhhh!  I'm so excited!

If my post doesn't quite portray my utter excitement... I don't know what will.


My First 10K

***Warning -- For those who object to mild profanity, you may not want to read this post.  I'm sorry, but it brought out the best and worst in me***

Today, I ran my first ever 10K (6.2 miles).  Today, I ran my first ever organized run, period.  Let me give you a play by play of the emotional meltdown which occurred during the duration of the run.

  • Mile 1 - What the hell did I get myself into?  I started to cry, but then pulled myself together.
  • Mile 1.5 - Is this some kind of sick joke?  I have to climb that hill?

It was here that I realized all the running jams I downloaded to iTunes didn't sync with my iPod.  I began listening to the same 5 songs over, and over and over again.

  • Mile 2 - Sum-nava-beech, I'm slipping into last place.  I started to cry again, but couldn't breath, so talked myself out of it.  Again.
  • Mile 2.5 - While passing the Provo Temple, I decided I'd better stop cussing.
  • Mile 3 - The police officer who was following beside me rolled down his window and yelled to me "you are doing great!  Keep going!  You'll finish!"  Thank you Mr. Police Man.

Miles 3 thru 4 seemed to go by with ease.  I found my pace (at the back of the pack).

  • Mile 4.5 - Pain set in.  I wanted to cry.  Crying only makes it harder to breathe.  Wait... why the hell are my hands swollen?  
  • Mile 5 - I wondered how long I'd be running this forsaken race.  I thought about sitting down and waiting for Chris to come find me.  But how would I call him without my cell phone?  Since I completely forgot about payphones, I pressed forward.
  • Mile 5.5 - What the french toast?  I'm back at the start point?  I then knew exactly how far I still had to go.  This depressed me.
  • Mile 6.2 - I crossed the finish line.  Sweating, lungs gasping for breath, legs shaking underneath me.  And crying again.  Seriously, again?

See my time?  1 hour 24 minutes and 39 seconds.  I saw Chris, smiling proud and I realized that it didn't seem at all like an hour and a half.  It went by in minutes, though my body told me otherwise.  I told Chris I wasn't going to Sacrament Meeting in the morning, so he'd have to go say the opening prayer in Sacrament Meeting.

Cade and Carrie finished long before me, therefore, the redness in their faces was gone when we paused for a photo.  I however, was still trying to catch my breath.

I learned a lot about myself during this race.  I learned that my body has limits, but I can push it.  I now know I need to take more time to prepare for these types of activities.  I learned not to try and compete with everyone else, just compete with myself.

What an accomplishment.  I still can't believe that I did it.  


All About Me

Chris continually accuses me of making his birthday all about me.  This is seriously not so.

He loves cherry pie (gag).  But no one else likes cherry pie. Who wants to enjoy a birthday treat all by themselves?  Cold Stone Ice Cream Cake it is.

We'll be in Salt Lake this weekend, and his favorite restaurant is Market Street Grill (eww fish).  But if we go there, I won't get to eat pasta and I need pasta for my big race Saturday morning.  I vote Cheesecake Factory.

He hoped for a new rifle for his birthday, but I got something way better... season passes to the Beav so he can go skiing with me!  And Brielle.

See... I don't know what makes him think I make his brithday all about me.  Clearly everything I do, I do for him.  He got cake & ice cream all in one...  I'm taking him out to dinner...  And he'll enjoy many days of skiing all because of me!

Happy Birthday Babe.


Lack for Words

I must say, I'm suddenly feeling tremendous pressure to post something profound and epic.  I was approached recently at a family event by several people who expressed their love for my blog.  I was told they find it funny, truthful, refreshing, etc.  Now I'm not sure what to say...

Funny, I usually always have something to say.

So, I'll say this... however, I regret to inform you that it is not profound, it's certainly not epic and it contains no wisdom whatsoever.  I'm glad my husband is home.
  1. car troubles
  2. snow storms
  3. snow blowers without gas
  4. new job
  5. sleeping with a child who fights in her sleep
  6. taking care of the pets
  7. church callings
  8. family drama
  9. having to rely on my BFF for quality child care
  10. there's probably something I'm missing, but this past week is a blur...
...are not tasks I particularly care to tackle on my own without the help of my hubs.  Oh, and this was in addition to cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc.  I missed him and I needed him home.  

Oh, and I miss CrossFit when he's away.  That's a purely selfish need, I know, but I'm not perfect.  I need some me time.