The Walkers

This is how I waste my mornings. Scratch that - time with the Bluths is always well spent.

We went to Mesa last weekend and got to visit Kyle, Denell, and Delaney Wilson. We also got to spend time with family, and I'm so mad I forgot to bring my camera to get pictures of Jacki's little girl, Maddie. (But I'm very excited that we get to see you guys again in August!) Anyway - it was great catching up with everybody; the Wilsons are fantastic hosts, and Brad had never been to Nannie's before. I'm just sad he didn't get the chance to pee in her pool... a rite of passage for Kempton cousins :) Here's a great shot of Delaney. (We tried our best to shield her from the "hot Mexican sun".) And this should go without saying... but I'm a bit sunburned.

Brad and I went up to Zermatt Resort last week to celebrate the big day. (Is it sad that I still make a big deal out of my birthday, and I'm not seven?) We love this place. It was so much fun to just go and relax. Then Brad suprised me with tickets to Vanessa Carlton. Honestly, neither of us even really know a lot of her stuff... but Brad won tickets on the radio, and you can't say no to free :) It was really cool. There were probably like 100 people in this little piano bar in Salt Lake, and the atmosphere was just really chill. She is really talented; I love it when an artist is actually better live - it's a rare treat these days. On Friday we had our families over, and all I managed to shoot were a couple pictures of our sisters' kids. Here's Isabel "talking" on her phone. She cracks me up! p.s. I went with the Oreck, because it weighs nine pounds. Once our basement is finished, it will be a lot easier to lug up and down the stairs. Oh, and just to a...

So, my mom likes to tease me because I always want "practical" gifts. One year for Christmas as a kid, all I wanted was my own hamper. Seriously. Hey - I'm a middle child and I think I was really attracted to the prospect of not sharing. As an adult, not much has changed. For Christmas last year, I wanted beef. And for my birthday, I want a vacuum. But here's the thing... I really don't think I'm boring. I've been having so much fun wandering home stores and checking product reviews online for just the right vacuum. And I'm so excited to have one that sucks. (That's just funny to say.) I have wicked allergies and my carpet seems to trap dust. Right now, it's down to the Hoover WindTunnel or an Oreck Ultra. They're about the same price if we trade in our old Oreck. Any suggestions? Or am I the only one that gets into this? p.s. Bagged vs. bagless. I need your advice.

I'm beginning my first full week of freedom, and I'm loving it! I finally finished season 7 of Gilmore Girls (I'm only like two years behind?), and I'm basically just sitting around making to-do lists. First up: organizing closets. I have a massive D.I. load that is way past due. If any of you want dibs on some of Brad's "Cosby sweaters", let me know :) p.s. This may be blasphemous in some circles, but I don't like the way Gilmore Girls ended. At all. Some future blogging on this topic may be in order.

I bought a yearbook this year. I know, lame. I figure, if I buy one every three years, I'll eventually have pictures of all of my students. So in ten years when I'm thinking, Who was that little sh*t in English 10? I can find his/her picture from back in 2008. Anyway - that is my reasoning for purchasing said memorabilia. (Plus I bought it with teacher money, so technically, it was free.) Such is my justification, which is why I was baffled yesterday when I was talking to some fellow teachers who were excited to get their yearbooks signed by their students. Signed by students? Is that normal? I was weirded out last year when students wanted me to sign theirs... but for a teacher to collect sixteen-year-old signatures?? I don't know. I have a sneaking suspicion that way too many teachers choose their careers just to relive their glory days of adolescence. (Or, just as likely, to be the "cool" teacher because they weren't so "cool" as a student.) Is h...

Brad has been out of town for about a week now, and this morning I came to the undeniable realization that I need a husband. Not for the cuddling and the help opening the jam jar (although those two things are excellent perks to marriage), but for the incentive to get my butt out of bed. My alarm clock went off at 6:00, after which I continued to push snooze every nine minutes until about 7:15. I'm supposed to be to work at 7:30, by the way. Normally, Brad would have kneed me in the kidney after snooze number two and shoved me out of bed. It sounds cruel; but it's necessary. So, in my unwed, lazy state, I'm currently un-showered, my make-up consists of one haphazard coat of mascara, and apparently I didn't look in the mirror when I put on these pants with this shirt. Not to mention I began first period by snapping at at least two unsuspecting teenagers. I feel bad - but it takes me at least an hour to perk up in the morning.