♫ ...And That's What She Said!

For those of you that know me well, you know that for the best oh, seven months or so, I have been spending nearly every weekend down in "paradise". Or, Colorado. For those curious of mind, this blog is to let you know what I’ve been up to!

Fact: Until recently, I hated Colorado. I did. There are entirely too many people in a fairly small area. Not only are there a lot of people, but the variety of people is huge. Don’t get me wrong, this makes for stellar people watching, but also creates some less than awesome road rage, rude people in the shopping malls, and pushy people on the street corners. Last time I was Cheesecake-Factory bound, I was verbally assaulted (slight dramatization) by a guy in a organic green outfit telling me how to save trees. Thanks, I just want cheesecake.

Realization: I was, and am, uncultured. Because we don’t have a large variety of people here in the good ol’ state of Wyoming, when I was taken off guard by diversity, I was quick to judge that it meant Colorado-ans were insane. I’ve learned, that with the exception of a few communities, most Colorado people are actually quite normal. They just need to work on their driving skillz. Sorry folks, I will always have road rage

So, the question proposed is:

Nomz, what do you do every weekend???

Answer:

I laugh. A lot.

Those of you faithful blog readers know about the boy, the boy’s family, my sister, my sisters Scooby (seen here: Uncle Scooby), all my boys awesome friends, etc. I don’t need to cover that again today. Instead, what this fabulous Colorado clan does...every weekend.

Little did I know, that Colorado was filled with so many photography opportunities! Old buildings, big history, and beautiful mountains! Seriously, every weekend I come home with a crap ton of pictures (for those of you that don’t know, a crap ton is a lot).

Also, we tend to eat at a different place, every.single.weekend. True story. My favorite so far? The Hibachi Grill! It’s one of those amazing places where the cooks are both awesome at cooking, and they are entertainers, right in front of your table.

Everything down there is Super. Super Walmart. Super Target. Super Kmart. Super Sears. Super Cosco. They all have their own name for super, but literally every store is BIG. We experiment on the grill, because in our group, there happens to be three grill masters. We go to movies. We go mini golfing. We go go-kart racing. We go four-wheeling. We go to Comedy Works. We go to indoor lacrosse she says as she takes a moment to reflect back on first date and say awwwwww. My man’s cousin happens to be a mascot for the Colorado lacrosse team, so it’s a favorite...and will continue to be. Sporting events, concerts, galleries, shopping malls, and car shoes. Truck Pulls! (future blog coming for those less redneck than we)

The point is, every weekend we stay jam-packed busy. We rarely drink, we always eat, and it’s never dull. Why do I go to Colorado every weekend? Wouldn’t you if you were surrounded by amazing people, and endless things to do?

The punch line of the title of this blog:

In our core group of four (my man, me...my sister and Scooby), we have a few things that are, well, defects…we’ll call them.

My sister says stupid things. (I know, it’s not nice...but I said that once on accident, and it stuck. Besides, I didn’t say she was actually stupid). Thus, why she got her name, French Fry (see why: French Fry)

Scooby: The man of many nicknames, is the quiet one of the group, giving us plenty of opportunity to tease.

My Man: The most outgoing of us, has a tendency to slip and say things that he shouldn’t. You know, like "we were never girlfriends!"

Me: For whatever reason, I have this strange ability to say things that come out completely wrong, giving my sister full opportunity to say ..."And that’s what SHE said!". Example. Yesterday, we were standing in line at the boat bumping water park thing, and I was getting sprayed with water, while in line. I said: "Ah! I’m all wet and we haven’t even started!". ...That’s what she said. You get it.

Yours Truly,
Nomz

The Agenda:

"A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path."
-- Agatha Christie

"A mother is not a person to lean on but a person to make leaning unnecessary."
-- Dorothy Canfield Fisher

"The mother's heart is the child's schoolroom."
-- Henry Ward Beecher

"The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness."
-- Honore' de Balzac

"Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world."
-- Kate Douglas Wiggin

"When I was a child, my mother said to me, 'If you become a soldier, you'll be a general. If you become a monk you'll end up as the pope.' Instead I became a painter and wound up as Picasso."
-- Pablo Picasso

"The commonest fallacy among women is that simply having children makes one a mother—which is as absurd as believing that having a piano makes one a musician."
-- Sydney J. Harris


On that note, I'd like to begin my blog. :) Being able to stay at home and take care of mah boy, rather than work, I have had a lot of time to think. To plan. To agonize.

I always knew that I wanted to be a mother. At a tender age, I didn't have a collection of Barbies that would put a rich girl to shame; rather, I had baby dolls. Each where named and each were cared for as if they were real infants- to the best of my adolescent ability, anyway.

It's a whole different ball game when your baby turns into a real, breathing, and living human being. With a will. A strong will. A will that is beginning to discover itself. Ohhhh, Malachi. How I love you dearly and how much you drive me crazy.

As a guardian over this wonderful being, I know that I am responsible for more than his diapers or diet. I am responsible for his ethics, his morals, and -partly- his life's pursuit. In this, every day, I grow more concerned and more determined to teach him what I know as Truth. Not "my truth" but The Truth. The heart of our Father. I need to impart to him how to be a godly person.

- The importance of knowing that God is Creator of all. Jesus is the Way; the Truth and the Life. No other can be a substitute. And God is good.

- Violence cannot be a way of life. He has started to hit and I cannot sit back and watch him, with that fleshly glimmer in his eye, act out his frustration on someone else. Love will be our rule. "Do unto others as you would have them do to you" should probably be framed.

- Ooh, that's a good idea. Taking those Life's Principles and displaying them in our house. I want Malachi to be a child, a boy, a teenager, a man that others admire and respect. He will be a big boy- I want him to be my gentle giant.

- GOALS: Love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control. Against such, there is no law.

- Prayer. A great tool. I don't pray nearly often enough. But, I know that I need to teach Malachi how to pray. This is priority.

So, this is it. My lil agenda for Malachi's life. I do understand that there will come a time in which he will have to choose to step away from our teachings and decide, for himself, what he will pursue as truth. I will not fret; I know that if I do my part, keep my end of the bargain, the Lord will keep His.

Proverbs 22:6
Direct your children onto the right path,
and when they are older, they will not leave it.

** & he says, "I could take you out on the boat."

I love—LOVE in tall letters, LOVE written with sparklers in twirled letters across the night—that I have a boy with a boat. A boat big enough for two, parked next to the garage on its trailer, with its faded yellow-painted interior & two benches inside. (One for me, and one for him, theoretically... but it's us, and so it's one for two, the other to catch the glow of the sky.)

The sky is halfway to sunset as we glide off across the lake, rippling with fall-tinged breezes that set the mirrored surface into tiny peaks. Our water-bound chariot has a tiny motor, 2 m.p.h. at best, but on a night when the sky is fading from purple-pink to ink black and you can feel summer slipping through your fingertips... you don't need, nor want, any faster than that.

It's calming, like the boat is holding us in its arms, rocking us back and forth. The water splashes, gently lapping up the sides; the motor hums, slicing trails through the surface; the silence is only broken when my love realizes I'm almost positive the boat is going to flip over & he devilishly grins as he stands and insists, "But I need to get something... OVER HERE."

The same eyes I melted into at 13 crinkle as he smiles at me; black Jager hat atop his head, his feet in the Zen text sandals against the bottom of the boat. We're trolling back toward the center of the lake from a quick detour near a buoy, and I marvel at the way his arms around me still feel the same. How, even 10 years & a heartbreak & two houses of sin & thousands of chapters in between, the simple act of being tucked into his arms still is infused with the same allure.
Still feels the same.

My curves finding his, the way feet slip into summer's-old flip flops and immediately fall back into the spots you've worn down.

I've always found my center around water, despite the fact I have no patience for baths. I need water that stretches out ahead of me, that reflects the stars & that catches my thoughts as they spin outward.

Sometimes, I need an ocean; usually, this lake suffices. It's a lake into which I've spilled equal amounts of secrets and sorrows—sitting in a darkened car next to it with my love, standing heartbroken against the dock railing with an empty-feeling ring clutched in my hand, casting kissing shadows against it on hand-held walks.

& now we have a new memory to add to our list; of a peachy pink sky above and the gentle ripples below. Of intertwined fingers and interlocked lips, surrounded by the closest thing we can get to the sea in our land-locked corner of the world.

These are the memories, tinted with summer sunsets, that I hold closest.

~The Second Mate

**Guest Blogger

♫ It really is hilarious, trust me.

So...somebody took a poll of people "our age" and listed some of their thoughts. Pretty sure they're just saying that. They actually scanned my brain and claimed it as their own. ;)

-I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

-More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can
think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell
my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves
me.

-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you
realize you're wrong.

-I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to
have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and
sticks when they've invented the lighter?

-Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're
going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to
be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the
direction from which you came, you have to first do something like
check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to
yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're
crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

-That's enough, Nickelback.

-I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

-Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know"
feature on Facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose
not to be friends with?

-Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't
work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically
fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all
know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards
or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

-There is a great need for sarcasm font.

-Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and
suddenly realize I had no idea what the f was going on when I first
saw it.

-I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually
becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting
90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's
laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little
bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the
only one who really, really gets it.

-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than
take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

- I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear
your computer history if you die.

-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to
finish a text.

- A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the
spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

- Was learning cursive really necessary?

- Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".

- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

- Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron
test is absolutely petrifying.

- My brother's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads.
Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired
about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us."
Classy, bro.

- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart",
all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod
and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

- I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up
to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!

- Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in'
examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete
idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and
said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies"

-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

- While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and
instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.

- MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I
know how to get out of my neighborhood.

- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the
person died.

- I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the
shower first and THEN turn on the water.

-Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty,
and you can wear them forever.

- I would like to officially coin the phrase 'catching the swine flu'
to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an
overweight woman. Example: "Dave caught the swine flu last night."

-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

- Bad decisions make good stories

-Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their
profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got
the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if
I do!

- Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?

-If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring
would probably just be completely invisible.

-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go
around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly
nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be
a problem....

-You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work
when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything
productive for the rest of the day.

-Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't
want to have to restart my collection.

-There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are
going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

-I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me
if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I
swear I did not make any changes to.

- "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

-I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people
watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will
they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't
watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and
leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

-I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello?
Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and
goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone
and run away?

- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not
seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

-When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she
hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light
internet stalking.

-I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle,
then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

-Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising
speed for pedophiles...

- As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers,
but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

-Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still
not know what time it is.

-It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

-I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to
answer when they call.

-Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.

-Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car
keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the
Donkey - but I’d bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze
button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time
every time...

-My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would
happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?

-It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and
the link takes me to a video instead of text.

-I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they
drive behind obeys the speed limit.

-I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

-I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or
Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw
they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words,
someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think
about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people
eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by
myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard
before dinner.

Yours Truly,
Nomz

** Brother

Brother

I told you once
that I was my own evil twin.
With pink-rimmed glasses,
I paraded your fears
around the basement;
you believed everything I said.

When we took car trips,
I’d make you sit on the floorboards;
sweeping my arm
over the backseat with grandeur,
swaying you into forfeit,
you’d think you’d won;
proudly climbing down between
the wheel wells
and falling asleep to the vibration
of the road.

I used to sit you in front of the mirror
when we played cards
so I could read your hand.
I told you I could read your mind.
I told you I was magic,
and I swept into your nightmares
like an elusive fog.

You used to dream in fiery breaths,
kicking and fighting back every spirit
passing through your skin,
running in your sleep from some unknown
predator,
giving life and anger and fear
to every quiet pain in our house.

In the evenings,
dusk and summer wind
would take our lucid minds
and wrap them around
devils and wide-eyed monsters.
And we were safer, somehow, together,
in the blackest nights
when we listened between blankets
and through thin walls
to the most fearful sounds
the dark could hold.
We found solace in each other,
loosing our tight sheet grip,
finding refuge in the obscurity,
each time the wind blew
and the shadows danced.

And somewhere in this night,
you are breathing
through the same lungs I was given
at birth,
through the same lips;
seeing through the same deep
brown eyes
that I first saw the world.
And you are probably curled up
like I am,
with your fingers warm behind your knees,
your dreams still fiery,
your sheets pulled up over your head.

Somewhere in this night, brother,
you are still believing in me,
with my card tricks,
and my all-powerful magic.
Dreaming, maybe, that I will
sweep into the night,
while I am dreaming of you,
and take away the shadows
that clench us tight to the past.

**Ghost-Blogger

♫ Google is my friend…and my safety net.

Confession: I’ve googled you.

Well, most likely, anyway. Along with my address, neighbors, kids, etc. Maybe it’s the cops daughter in me. Perhaps in the internet queen I am. Who knows. The point is, I feel safer if I know everything about my closest friends, people I date, and especially, people dating my friends. It’s a free background search, can you blame me? It’s not creepy. Believe me, if I found anything interesting about you, you’d be the first to know.

I’d like you to move from the notion of thinking I am a creep, to taking my advice and doing it. Start with your own name. If your name happens to be generic, type in a general location too. “First Name Last Name Chicago Illinois” , for example. See what you see.

Ladies, please heed my advice and google your man before you go falling head over heels. I have no horror stories to back this up, but I have found some deal breakers for other people. Go four pages deep.

Also, go to this website-every six months or so: http://www.felonspy.com/search.html It’s the law for felons, including sex offenders, to register. And this site not only tracks them, but tells you the exact location, year they were convicted, and why.

Google is a free tool. Use it. Protect yourself, and keep up on your own person. ;) Google sometimes knows more about you than you do.

Yours Truly,

Nomz

**edited to tell you:

Apparently it is not the law for felons to register, my apologies. It is, however, for sex offenders. And regardless of that false fact (sorry!), I really encourage you to keep an eye on that website, and google. :)

The Etiquette of Tipping.

No. It's not a city in China. And it's not what you do to cows-- *you* being all those who live outside of Wyoming. (big, obvious wink to my Nomz and all my Cheyenne peeps). Tipping is the expression of your gratitude for the service rendered for your meal and/or dining experience. IE: a clean, set table, full glass, correct order, yummy food, and polite man or woman to help you with your needs throughout your meal.


When dining out, please keep in mind the following:


*According to the National Restaurant Association, servers make an average of $2.63/hour and servers are required, by law, to claim any tip they make- be it cash or credit. Most times, a server doesn't even receive a bi-weekly paycheck because it has been submitted to the government for taxes. Once a server's shift has ended, most corporate restaurants assign "side work" to each server as upkeep for the business. At this time, the servers- not making tips any longer- are still earning the average wage mentioned above. Additionally, servers are usually required to "tip out" other parts of the house, including bar tenders, bussers, seaters, and kitchen-staff. Though the government cannot require that servers tip-out (not that I'm aware of, anyway) pure politics will teach you that if you do not share the love, you will not be seated with customers, your tables will not be bussed and your food will probably not be prepared to your customers' satisfaction. Every company's policy is different regarding this, but most request that a server gives up 5-10% of their earnings.


*Contemporary etiquette for tipping is 10-20%, depending on how well you feel that you have been served. It seems that there are black and white views on an appropriate tip for a server. Whereas some think that a generous tip is required, regardless of service, the majority tend to show their generosity based on the server and his/her skills.


*Servers do not just wait tables and call it good. There are usually other requirements to the job that need to be performed, whilst also attending to guests. The requirements may include, bussing tables of other servers ("one for all, all for one"), rolling silverware, and taking food out to another server's table.


Because I used to serve tables and because Husband currently serves tables, I try to be generous when leaving a tip; knowing that when I bless a person, regardless of their service, it will come back to me. Now, that isn't always the case. I have left tips below 10% because I received atrocious service and I have also tips upwards of 40% because I felt that the server deserved every penny.



I do know that there are certain reasons for which a server does not necessarily deserve a tip. Consider the following:


"My server didn't pay attention to my requests or needs"
- Though it may be gratifying to stiff a server that didn't perform his/her job well, there are other ways to get your point across. Try being honest and confronting the server yourself. You could say something along the lines of "As of this moment, I feel that your service is sub par and it will affect your tip if you do not begin to treat me as a guest. I do want to tip you, but I feel you are not earning it." If that doesn't help, request to speak with a manager. Remember, what goes around comes around. If you do not show mercy, there could be a point when you are not shown mercy.



"She was rude"
- The truth, here, is that all people should/need to be polite and kind hearted towards each other. There is no excuse for being rude or curt. However, it is possible that the server could be dealing with some very bad news, could be feeling ill, could even be having the worst day of their life. Now, reverse roles. Would you want to be treated with patience and kindness?



"I don't need to be the one to pay her wages. That's up to the managers"
- Keep in mind that the government is responsible for a server's wages. For some reason, they elected to exclude restaurants from the minimum wage rule. I have no idea why. Regardless, remember that the server did not go to your home and beg you to dine out. You chose to go to their restaurant. You didn't have to cook or clean up. Be polite. Tip.


One last point, before I step off of my cute lil soapbox. Please, remember to tip on your original ticket total. If you spend $100 on a meal and pay with part cash part credit card or have a gift card, do not tip on the remaining balance.


I've been perusing passiveaggressivenotes.com and a thread regarding tipping. There are some excellent arguments for both sides- from customers and servers. It's quite entertaining, really. I suggest that you read it.

And for an impromptu survey- what is your "policy" regarding tipping? Let us know!

Psssst, nothing is sexier than a big heart. Not even a big wallet. Just sayin'....

♫ Your Hoo-Hoo?

Dear dedicated, and new, blog readers...

I am a proud mamma of two angels. Most of the time. My little girls are getting to the age of discovering their body-ten fold. yay!. I need your help.

We’ve decided, for some odd reason, to call our chests, boobies. Not boobs. Fine, whatever. I can live with that.

The problem, is I am not sure what to allow them to call their…you know. I’ve never had a name for it. I was raised to call it what it is, but honestly, vagina really is the worst word ever created. It sounds disgusting just saying it. I don’t really want my girls to ever say it. Call me strange.

I have a problem calling it "hoo-hoo", because my girls favorite song happens to be the "hoo-hoo song", and I dont want to put a whole new meaning on such a fabulous thing:

So, my curiosity is peaked. Lucky for you, we allow anonymous comments, so you don’t even have to tell me who you are. I just want to know ONE, if you’re female, and TWO what you call it.

Yours Truly,

Nomz

Love my ASSETS

God's gift to women was Sara Blakely. Sara's gift to women is Spanx. The amazing, flattering, ego-boosting body wear. That costs anywhere from $30 to $300. Okay, so Sara's gift to rich women is Spanx.

Enter ASSETS.

What do they doooo?

ASSEST were born for the everyday, every paycheck woman who needs a little help. Let's just put it all out there. Any woman that doesn't have the number of her platsic surgeon on speed dial needs help. It doesn't matter if you're size 2 or size 12. I'm a petite petal and I wear my shapewear nearly every day.

Okay, so to the point. ASSETS allow you to wear your skinny-mini dresses, sleek business pants or cutesie clubbing tops without lines or unforgiving *uninvited* rolls that show off here and there. Whereas Spanx does the same thing, ASSETS does it for less. You can get them at Target for around $20. They're worth every penny.

Really, despite the obnoxious exaggeration between my before and after poses, the way I feel couldn't be any less dramatic. Malachi did a number on my stomach and if my pants or shirt show that problem area to any degree, my whole groove is thrown off. But, I put on my slimwear and I can strut with sex appeal.

Just sayin'...


BEFORE/ AFTER

♫ Life is a Tilt-A-Whirly Thing

This last weekend I went to the smallest, oldest county fair I’ve ever been to. I went to watch my man, his family, and some of my favorite guys and gals compete in an ATV competition.

A few pics (black four wheeler-Cody, Yellow four-wheeler-Matt, Yellow shirt/Yellow four wheeler-my man (back off ladies), Lady-miss Cindy):

After all THIS excitement, a group of decided to go to the actual fair. You know, the one with the kajillion rides, smelling of funnel cakes, lemonade, and creepy carny’s. We, as a group, decided to get some of those better-than-ever lemonades, and take our turn on a few rides.

My adorable sister and her boy climbed in to one of those tilt-a-whirl cups, and dared us to follow. And follow we did. Packed in between my man, and his best bud (could be my second favorite guy ever), we spun. And we spun and spun and spun.

If you’ve ever ridden one of these things, you know that they don’t just spin. They spin unpredictably in different directions, at different angles, and at varying speeds. They spin so fast that you lose yourself in it. You lose all track of what direction you are facing, who you’re with, what your limbs are doing.

I remember two things from this ride:

Being packed in to this ride with my man (at 6’6 and strong, he’s not a little guy), and his friend. So, we had some serious gravity fun. Second, I remember the “thud” I heard as my sister landed on the side of her pretty purple spinny cup, as she almost fell out. Of course her hero of a man giggled and saved the day. PS. For the record, they don’t make seatbelts on this ride. Just metal bars that go across your lap. If you’re small, they don’t even touch your lap.

Fact:

Life is like a Tilt-A-Whirl.

It throws you in different directions, whether you are ready or not. Unpredictability is what keeps it interesting. And even if it seems like your darkest hour, you always live through the ride. Your world may be shaken and spinning, but you’ve found the end, your new beginning. And, if you look on all sides of you, you should find yourself jam packed surrounded by amazing people, whether you can reach them or not, they are there. To help steady your steps, or, in some cases-help you spin faster.

When life throws you through a spin, hold on, and hold on tight. You cant always trust life to hold you in, but you can trust those that surround you. Spin on!

Yours Truly,

Nomz

PS. Always, always take every opportunity to hop in a bumper car.