the boy

maybe we'll learn to take real pictures some time...eh probably not.

remembering gordon b. hinckley

in honor of a great man. i’ve never been more inspired or influenced by an individual’s conviction in his beliefs and in his zest for life. he accepted and loved everyone – never judging and always looking for ways to help those in need. he led with an incredible example and did what he needed to do here – and now he gets to be back in his sweetheart’s arms (look how cute they are!)

what an amazing man.

i spy

meghan asked me last night if her hair looked like a wig. it normally doesn’t. it did. we couldn’t figure it out. maybe because it was poofing just right at her scalp. maybe because her bangs weren’t properly resting on her face. maybe because for some reason, every single strand of hair had stayed in the exact same position the entire day. maybe because she put it on crooked when she was getting ready in the morning.

whatever the reason, it made me think fondly of king street in alexandria, virginia. it’s enough to walk down the street and see this storefront



have you ever seen a moustache wig? how about a moustache wig on a female mannequin. i never was quite sure what exactly this store was promoting. let's not even start about the gold man on the floor. but before you can fully comprehend what in the world, you get to the next storefront.



another wig shop. two wig shops independent of each other. right next door to each other. on king street. have you ever seen such a creepy store in your life? i had a boss who actually looked like that first head. he was a he. talk about dreading going into work. at least this one (as far as i know) doesn’t carry wig-staches. neither does the wigshop two blocks down the road. all i know is i do not want to be walking by myself down king street at night.*

three wigshops within half a mile of each other. must be the high population of spies in the greater dc area.


* people will try to tell you that king street is actually probably one of the safest streets in the eastern united states. but don't be fooled- the wigs say it all.

what r u doin

i got a new phone. (clap your hands). nothing was necessarily wrong with my old phone except that milo practically ate the entire thing (including the camera which is why my photos rock these days). that whole dog-ate-my-homework excuse? it’s totally legit. my dog’s capable of eating the entire contents of my house – and probably part of my neighbor’s house (she deserves it) (that was mean) – if i didn’t interfere. sometimes i think it would stink to be a small dog or cat. you’re just hanging out minding your own business (or eating the contents of a house), and all of a sudden some human comes and just picks you up. and why do we just pick little animals up? why, to move them to another spot of course! imagine just sitting in your room maybe reading your favorite chapter of your favorite book or maybe you like eating the contents of your house as well. and then all of a sudden, something that’s capable to carry you picks you up without warning and drops you off on the floor two rooms away. what the? did you not see that i was busy being content in there? thanks a lot – now i’ll never finish that chapter.

so my new phone was, i admit, significantly more hi-tech than my old phone. better graphics and sample games. not that sample games really matter. they all end the same – with a desperate plea to get you to buy the full version. better ringtones and sound quality and more spacey looking (like it was made in space. not like it’s roomier).

the life of a new phone isn’t an easy one. it’s always hard to say goodbye to your old phone – you get so connected (get it?) to it and so familiar with the way it rests on your ear and what your ring tone sounds like and exactly how long you can not plug it in before the battery dies. and then you have to let it go for a foreign phone that feels so uncomfortable and weird. but in time, your new phone becomes your old phone and the cycle continues. i feel like singing the circle of life right now and maybe holding milo up to the sun. i won’t. only because i’m at work and it’s an overcast day. so i gave my new phone a fair chance. probably three weeks or so. i liked it, i didn’t love it. and here’s why (and here’s where i’m partially embarrassed to admit that i’m 25 and not 16…) – i’m not a phone talker. ask anyone who’s tried to hold a conversation with me over the phone. it’s not pretty. the introduction of texting was like heaven to me. no need for small talk or to turn my music down – just get in and get out. say what needs to be said and bam. so efficient. i’m pretty sure i could challenge most teenagers to a race of who can text faster. i’m pretty sure i’d win. i’m not saying this to brag. it’s actually a good way to cope with this condition.

so the dealbreaker for my new phone is that i didn’t like the feel of the touchpad. the buttons were too flimsy for me. how am i supposed to text with flimsy buttons?? so, i pulled out my old chewed up phone. what a sweet reunion. my texting speed immediately raised back up by at least 40%. i was home. i ordered a fun new green cover – teeth mark free – i’m so happy. send me a text. i’ll respond with how happy i am.

life in the fast lane

okay so i’m the recipient of the best christmas gift ever. the key to giving a great gift (christmas or other) is this: hone in on something your gift-getter says he/she wants at the beginning of the year. remember said want. in december when gift-getter completely forgets about ever even mentioning it, let alone wanting it…wrap it up and give it to them. flashback:

one time meghan and i were at target looking for shoes. target has awesome shoes. and bath towels but that’s a different story entirely. well it’s not really a story. just a fact. so we’re browsing the shoes and i find a pair that are just the right amount of bowling shoe mixed with a dash of stylish tenny (tenni…tennee??) lovely. the not so lovely part was that i had somehow worked my way over to the little boy section so these dream shoes were actually meant for boys 7-12. dang. but it was too late – i already tried them on and they already fit so i was already running to the cash register to buy them before anyone realized their son was going to have to go shoeless because of me. in the midst of all this excitement, it all of a sudden occurred to me. so i shared with meghan – “hey! if i can fit in these, i could totally fit in some of those rolley shoes that are all the rage these days.” end of conversation.

christmas morning, i open this little gem of a box:

now i know you’re probably way too excited to realize what the box actually said (or my camera sucks.) these are actually rolling shoes with flashy lights. flashy lights. here’s what they look like on my 7-12 year old boy foot



and here’s what they look like when the party really gets crazy (in real life it doesn't look like my foot's turning into a super nova, but that would be a cool effect.)

i might go sport them at a skate park sometime. make some new friends and stuff. i’m sure another three hours or so of going back and forth on my five-foot-long kitchen floor and i’ll be a pro.

but i couldn’t wait that long. i wore them to work today