I'm a white girl, but my neck is red.

First of all, I'm not an actual redneck.  It's just that I have roots in the South. The deep South. Well, kind of. If you can call North Carolina the deep south. For all intents and purposes of this post, NC is temporarily the deep south. And if that's not enough to buy your vote, the name of the town that most of my relatives hail from is called Polkville. Maybe it's just me, but I think it screams redneck.

My family and I made a trip down south this summer to visit my mom's side of the family. I haven't been in years, so I had been looking forward to it. We packed our bags, and left Saturday morning, and drove straight on through. We arrived just in time for a "family reunion" of sorts. My mom's birthday was also on the 24th, so this gathering doubled as a birthday party. Rather, it whatever-ed as a get together/family reunion/birthday party/reason to have a good time

My uncle, or something, owns a goat farm. One of these goats has been castrated, so over time he has gained a good amount of weight, and according to my uncle "really has no purpose anymore". So why not have a good old fashioned goat bar-be-que?  Perfect solution.

Or at least that was the original plan.  I guess there weren't going to be enough people there, so he resorted to some pork instead.

My uncle has also started a business where he sells smoked meat. That he smokes in a homemade smoker. That he fashioned from old milk coolers.  So, if you haven't already guessed, that's how the meat was cooked.

It was pretty crazy, and a bit odd, and the food was delicious.  But when you're with your family or loved ones, that's all that matters.  And of course it will make for some good stories.  Er...blog posts.

and THAT'S why you don't forget to say the name of the secretary.

My job requires me to do a lot of random tasks throughout the work day. One of these tasks that comes up fairly regularly (which I guess doesn't make it that random) is taking a CD with patient information on it down to a lab so it can be uploaded onto the computer. Then once the information is all uploaded I go back and pick up the CD, bring it back to the office, do some stuff on the computer verifying that it has been uploaded, and then destory and throw the CD away.


So the other day one of the secretaries, Barb, asked me to go pick up a CD that had information for a patient of Dr. Sundt's (in the grand scheme of things, these names don't matter. It just makes it easier for me to tell the story). That's all I was told. Go pick up a CD for Dr. Sundt. I wasn't told the patients name. Probably because a. it didn't matter, there was probably only one CD that Dr. Sundt needed to see, or b. for patient confidentality.


This is how the rest of the story goes...And I am not even kidding. This is EXACTLY how the conversation went.


Me: Hi, I need to pick up a CD that has been loaded for Dr. Sundt.

Lab worker: OK. Patient's name please.

Me: Oh, sorry. I don't know, I was just told it was one of Dr. Sundt's patients.

Lab Worker: OK. Well does Random first name, Random last name, Random first name, Random last name, or Random first name, Random last name, sound familiar?

Me: Um...I'm not sure. I was just told the name of the Doctor...

Lab Worker: Hmm...(picks up a box holding a CD, and points to a piece of paper on the lid) well this box only says that the patient was in whatever hospital building, whatever floor, whatever room number. Do you think that's right?

Me: Oh, well now that you mention it, I do like to stalk random patients whose name I don't know, but I do keep track of which hospital room they're staying in. So yeah, that is the right patient.

False. I didn't actually say that. But I sure was thinking it.

My patience was wearing VERY thin at this point. "I don't know. Barb just sent me down, we could call her and see if..."

Lab Worker: OH! Barb?! Here you go. (and handed me said CD)


Guess I learned my lesson.

watch out Venus and Serena.

A friend once asked me "What is there to do in Minnesota?". For some reason all I could pathetically come up with is "Uh, there's the Mall of America". Why I said that is beyond me. I don't even enjoy the Mall of America. Go ahead and call me un-Minnesotan, see if I care. Crowds make me nauseous (I put my fear aside for concerts and stake conference), and for some reason my family likes to go at the busiest times possible. Like Christmas shopping season. I don't mind it (for a short time) if it's in the middle of the day and school is still in session, so it's next to empty. And that's about it.

What I failed to mention is that Minnesota is filled with opportunities to take advantage of the great outdoors through various activities. In every season. Hiking, fishing, swimming, skiing (water and snow), wake boarding, snowboarding, canoeing, and so forth. Whatever outdoor activities you enjoy, I'm sure you can find a place to do it in Minnesota. Except surfing. Maybe you can in any state. But Minnesota is pretty much the only place I have ever lived, so that's all I can say.

Every summer my family makes goals to become more active, and do things outside. We usually make it to through a bike ride or two, and then return to the gym and hit the treadmill or whatever kind of cardio equipment.
This summer we have made the same goal, yet again. This time we have included tennis. There are about four different locations that have at least two tennis courts within a mile of my house.

In order to jumpstart our new tennis mastering goals, my mom and I got a tennis racquet for my dad for Father's day, and a few cans of tennis balls. So Sunday evening after our Father's day festivities we walked up to the park in order to test out his new racquet and play the first of hopefully many games of tennis. Little did I know how awful we both were. I'm sure dead tennis stars would be turning in their graves if they could only see the shame we did to the sport.

But it's the effort that counts, right? We have not given up! Before you know it, we'll be tennis champs. I even convinced some friends to play with me the other day. Be on the lookout for Christine Fleming at the next Wimbledon. I'll be the one kicking trash and taking names.

chipotle & missionaries.

There are two things that I love in this world and will always hold a special place in my heart.

The first one is Chipotle.

Everything there is great. The burritos, tacos, salads, burrito bowls. All of it. Fantastic. If you have never been there, you haven't lived. It's so good. If you are ever driving, and you see one, you MUST go. If for some reason you ever find yourself in Minnesota, more specifically Rochester, call me up and I'll take you. My treat. I'm dead serious. My beloved hometown happens to be graced with two of these fine establishments.

If you have been there and you don't like it, I'm not sure we can be friends. If we are friends and you don't like it, I might have to reevaluate the relationship.

Don't tell me that Bajios is better than Chipotle. Because it isn't.
Don't tell me that Cafe Rio is better than Chipotle. Because it isn't.
And especially don't tell me that Taco Bell is better than Chipotle because it most definitely isn't.


The second thing that I love in this world is any Mormon missionary. Male, Female. Past, Present, Future. All of them. They're awesome. They set aside 1.5- 2 years of their life to provide service for free dollars.

So you can imagine my excitement when I got a twofer. Dinner with my parents at Chipotle WITH the missionaries that are currently serving in my home ward. My love only increased for these missionaries because they share the same appreciaton for Chipotle that my parents and I, and anyone cool do.

And it's Friday the 13th, which automatically makes today a cool day.

I'm not sure this day could get any better.

for the love of pomegranates.

Anybody that knows me, knows my love for pomegranates. I try anything I see that has the word pomegranate smacked across it; gum, yogurt, smoothies, juice, lemonade, mints, etc. which probably makes me a little bit of a sucker. I'm a marketing employee's dream. But I just can't help myself.

I also love the actual pomegranate fruit. Over thanksgiving break I went home with my roommate Kaitlin. Her mom is a realtor, and had a house listing with a pomegranate tree IN THE BACKYARD. We went and picked about twenty pomegranates and rearranged our luggage so we could bring them back to school. We both were beyond excited to have all these pomegranates for free ninety nine. We could never bring ourselves to pay the ridiculous prices at either Broulim's or Albertson's (I fully believe that they enjoy ripping students off). My life was complete.

But then to my surprise, my life was completed yet again.

I was looking on the internet one day for some baking recipes I might like to try out. I stopped dead in my internet surfing tracks. Pomegranate cupcakes. Chocolate Pomegranate cupcakes, to be more exact. My mom told me they sounded gross, but I wanted to make them anyway.

I'll let you know how they turn out.

the carrot cake chronicles.

In recent years I have been converted to carrot cake. And by recent years I mean roughly within the past 8-10 years.

I used to despise carrot cake. I used to think that if I wanted to eat dessert, why would I want to eat something made of vegetables? (I know, I know. It's not exactly vegetable matter. I was little and dumb. Weren't we all at one point?) Why don't you add some peas and broccoli to that "cake" while you're at it? I also wasn't a fan of cream cheese, so vegetable cake smothered in a cream cheese concoction was just about the last thing I wanted to eat in any given situation. Besides mushrooms.

Sadly, carrot cake had two strikes against itself.

I remember my biggest fight with carrot cake, and it was when I turned 8 years old. In Mormon culture this is a significant age. It was time for me to be baptized. My Mom got the great idea to make a carrot cake for my baptism. FYI: This point in time falls before my conversion to carrot cake.

I didn't think it was asking too much to make a cake for my baptism that I would like.

Apparently my eight year old self didn't know any better, and it was indeed too much to ask.

"Why Mom? I hate carrot cake, it's so gross. Can't you make something else?"
"No, it's good. Now shut up and be grateful."

I am only pretending to be happy and like the carrot cake in this picture.
I didn't know what I was missing.

The last time I made...scratch that.
The last time I helped make a carrot cake was from a box mix.
Yes, it was good but nothing compares to something homemade.

I took the liberty of stealing this picture from Jacob Divett's facebook album. I'm assuming he won't mind...

Before I continue, let's rewind a few weeks. It was Sunday and the third hour block of church. My mom and I were sitting in Relief Society. A sign up sheet was being passed around for food assignments for the annual Ward Hog Roast at our old Bishop's house. I immediately signed up to bring dessert because I love to bake.

I thought I would be ambitious, and make a carrot cake from scratch to bring. I had to search the Internet for for quite some time before I found a recipe that sounded decent. So many of them had pineapple, which seemed a little weird. Maybe it's normal for carrot cake, but I didn't feel like trying it out this time.

A lot of other recipes had pureed carrot baby food instead of real shredded carrots. I'm sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere. And baby food seemed like the perfect place.

Here are the results. I know it doesn't look like much, but I was still super excited about it.

I'm on much better terms with carrot cake these days.

come along with me, and embrace your inner nerd.

I have decided that everyone has a nerdy side to them. Whether you want to admit it or not, you do. Some have larger sides than others, but there is nothing wrong with that.

I will proudly admit that I can solve a Rubik's cube, I love the show Heroes, I watch the X-Files every now and then, I had a Harry Potter cake for my 20th birthday, and I have a crush on the fictional character Oliver Wood. Yes, the keeper/captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Don't even judge me because you know that secretly you play World of Warcraft or for reals Dungeons and Dragons, or what have you. To each his own.

And even if you don't think you're nerdy or have nerdy tendencies, someone else does. So either way, you have an inner nerd.

Anyway. My point is, I also have a hobby that not that many people know about. You could say that it is definitely part of my nerdy side, and it could be categorized within the hobbies section. sub filed under granny.

I quilt. It's something that my mom enjoys and she taught me a few years ago.

I have a couple different projects I'm working on so far this summer, and when I'm done perhaps I'll post some pictures.

So there you have it. I have admitted parts of my inner nerd for the entire free blogging world.

welcome back.

I had to start this blog for a photography class in the Fall of 2006 at school. Then I remembered about it, and thought I would just start using it again. It will be good for me because I am so bad at writing in any type of a journal. I always make an effort to, and I do fairly well for a couple of weeks, and then I forget.

I have another blog, but it's from high school, and it's super lame. I was reading it the other day. So I'm starting over. I feel it's an appropriate time. I'll have somewhat of a fresh start at school next year. Living in a new place, with new roommates. Can't wait.

Anyway.

I start my new job on the 27th. I had to go get my preplacement health exam done today, and since I also had to have one last summer and took the pee/drug test then, I didn't have to do it today.

Not that you wanted to know that.

beauty

motion

The sunset. In Idaho.