Golf Star

Since we are on the topic of past sports stories, I thought I would share a golf story with you now.

This is where we practiced and had our home matches. It was way to hilly too be a golf course.

I was on the golf team for a few years in high school.  I think it was just my Junior and Senior year.  Anyway, the last year I think my coach just felt bad for me so she put me on the “Varsity” team but I still played JV matches.

That means I would play middle schoolers including sixth graders, but sometimes Freshman or Sophomores if I was lucky.

Just like tennis, I wasn’t that good, although I actually enjoyed this sport.  I loved my team and enjoyed learning how to play golf for free. But it was always so flipping hot outside, I thought I was going to die.  We didn’t get to use golf carts, so we had to walk the course everyday with our heavy bags on our backs, sweating like crazy and getting awesome tan lines.  By the end of the season, I would have one white hand from wearing my glove, and white feet from wearing my shoes all season.  (Kelly was the pro on our team, and her tan lines were incredible… the whiter the feet, the better you were.)

I wish I could say that I was good at driving, or putting, but it really was just the luck of the draw.  Sometimes I would hit a really good drive and then it would take me about 8 or 9 more strokes to get it in.  Other times it would take me a few strokes (and penalty strokes) to actually hit the ball for the first time.  There was really no way of knowing what would happen.  But I will say that my par was doublepar.  I was content with doublepar, cause at least I didn’t have to quit that particular hole.

One particular time I had already hit my drive and I went to find my ball.  Kelly (the pro) was there, and we were looking together and thought we found it.  I then preceded to hit the best hit you have ever seen.  Well, the best hit you have ever seen done by me.  Kelly was amazed, she never knew I could swing like that.  It gracefully landed on the green, right next to the hole.

When I was preparing to putt the ball in, I saw that the initials on the golf ball did not exactly line up to my initials.  It wasn’t my ball.  I had hit the wrong one.  And unfortunately I’m honest (well not unfortunately, but you know what I mean…)

So, not only did I lose that wonderful stroke, I also got a penalty stroke.  And my actual hit was awful.

It could have been the best round of my life.  Instead, it was the worst.

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Tennis Star

When I was in 7th grade, I joined the JV Tennis team at school.  I don’t think I have to say it, because for those of you who know me well, you know I’m not very talented athletically.  But for those of you don’t know me too well, sports are not my specialty.  At all.

So the season went by, match after match, I never got to play.  I would do some scrimmages, but my coach wouldn’t ever let me play a real game.

Then the day came.  The two coaches coordinated and matched players up to people who were at about the same level.  My coach said he had someone in mind and that I was going to play a singles match.

Well,  I was stoked!  First match of the season, probably my last at the rate it was going, so I knew I had to make this one count.  Then my coach introduced me to my opponent. I’m not quite sure how to say this correctly, so I’m just going to spit it out.

She was mentally challenged.

My mom told me to let her win.

Here I am, the only game I get to play all season, and my mom wants me lose.  On purpose.

Judge me, hate me, call me prideful, call me rude.  But I couldn’t do it.  Probably should have.  But didn’t.

So that was my experience playing tennis.  I didn’t come back the next season.

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Standby Airline Tickets

Do you, your friends, family, neighbors, enemies, or anyone that you know have standby airline hookups???  If so, is there a way I can be a part of that deal?  I want to visit my family in D.C. this weekend when they visit my sister and the new baby!

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Sleep

The first song I learned on the piano went like this:

“Sleep, my baby, sleep.”

or…

C-D-C-D-C.

It’s stuck in my head right now.

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The 411 on Homesickness

Okay, there are a number of homesick levels.

Level 1: Completely satisfied where you are at that moment.

Level 2: Home is on the back of your mind. You try to keep in touch when you can.

Level 3: Home is always on your mind for one little reason or another.  Usually brought on by seasons or specific people.  Sometimes tears are shed when things aren’t going quite right where you are, making you remember the “good ol’ days”.

Level 4: A holiday or big event is passing and you are away.  Bad news bears.  Fits and nostalgia are common.

Level 5: This is when you are wondering while laying in bed, “Why on earth am I here and not at home where I belong?!”  This stage is filled with long phone calls, torturing yourself by looking through old songs, home videos, or photographs, and tissues.

Needless to say, I’m always at least on level 2.  Don’t get me wrong, I loveeeee Utah, and home is where your heart is, right? So, I do feel at home when I’m with T.J.  But sometimes I do miss the good ol’ Fort now and again!

So today, I’m on level 3, which is not high enough for you to be concerned.  But it was brought on because my friend was telling me that she and her fiancé just bought a house in Fort Thomas, so clearly I had to check out the place on GoogleMaps… which led me to my old street

Here’s what I found:

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Shake it like Cyrus

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keNwCgdiAJk&hl=en_US&fs=1]

This was made my several students from BYU and UVU.  Pretty awesome.  Yes, I know it’s old news…

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Camp Memory

One year at camp when I was in the Young Women’s program at church, Blair and I were youth camp leaders over the first years.

While laying in our cots each night, we all would make up these little rhymes having to do with camp:

“I don’t know if it’s been said, but I wish I was at home in bed.”

“I don’t know if it’s been told, but camp is getting really old.”

Yeah, I know it sounds pretty lame, but at the time it was a blast.  But the best part of this nightly ritual was when this one particular girl just didn’t get that the two words had to rhyme.  Over and over, even when we told her, she just wouldn’t rhyme the phrase.

“I don’t know if you have heard, but BLAIR IS GAYYYY!”

“I don’t know if it’s been said, but today was really fun and I love being at camp.”

Those were the types of things she would say.

It was hilarious.

Even to this day.

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So trashtastic.

I love/hate Terry’s sister in Glee.  Her voice is so obnoxious, and the things she says are so awful but she is downright hilarious.  One of my favorite quotes from her popped into my head today:

Terry: Can you make me a BLT?

Deb: Me too. But hold the lettuce… And the tomato.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, watch Glee–specifically this episode called “Preggers.”

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You know you're po' when…

Meet Blair.

We’ve been the best of friends for years.  Probably since 4th grade.  We’ve got countless inside jokes, but the most classic and ongoing of these jokes has to be our “You know you’re po’ when…” set of jokes.

It all started because, well… Blair and I were poor.

Happy.

But poor.

One Christmas, Blair was allowed to buy pump hand soap at the grocery store, instead of the normal bar soap.

And there we have the first “You know you’re po’ when…” joke.

You know you’re po’ when you get pump soap for Christmas.

Here are a few more than erupted throughout the years, all based off of personal experiences.

  • You know you’re po’ when the most common number on your FAFSA is 0.
  • You know your [parents are] po’ when you’re adjusted gross income is higher than your theirs.
  • You know you’re po’ when you have Roseart crayons and markers.
  • You know you’re po’ when getting a lunchable is the greatest day of your life.

And there you have it, folks.  If you have any more, let me know!

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Grad School

I think I should go to grad school.

I have always wanted to get a master’s degree because I feel like a bachelor’s degree just doesn’t cut it nowadays, but actually doing it, working hard, applying, going to school for 2 or 3 more years doesn’t sound as appealing.

And I don’t necessarily need a master’s degree with an undergrad in advertising, so is there really a point to going to grad school?

Should I just apply and see what happens?

So here’s the deal, if I decided to go to grad school:

I will graduate in April 2011 with a degree in Communications, Advertising Emphasis.  I really enjoyed my internship and learning more about social media marketing and I loved my marketing class last semester.  So that makes me think getting an MBA would be good, with an emphasis in Marketing.

That means I would have to take the GMAT this fall and apply by winter semester.

I also have enjoyed my general communications classes, especially media law and media audiences.  So maybe getting a master’s in Communications would be good.

That means I would have to take the GRE this fall and apply by winter semester.

Also, another thing I need to consider is living situations.  T.J. also will be applying to grad schools (he wants to get an MBA as well).  So finding an area where be both can find grad programs is going to be tough.  I would really like to stay in Utah because we pay next to nothing for rent and it is seriously saving us so much money.  Tuition for grad school here at BYU is very inexpensive compared to most programs, so that’s another plus, but who knows if I even have the grades to get in here. And on the other hand, moving away would be cool so we could experience a new place and live it up before we have a family.

Gosh, so many choices!! Please tell me your advice, thoughts, feelings, experiences, etc!

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