Camping Trip, Part 1

So Becca and I went camping Tuesday night to Mt. Charleston. It was really fun. I drove and Becca tried to dump water out of the passenger side window and sprayed the window and herself. That made the trip more fun.

Then we set up camp. It looked real official. We took our dumb dog but she was miserably afraid of the fire, so we had to tie her to the grill. I felt a little bad but that wore off after an hour of incessant whining.

We were all kinds of excited to prove that we could build a fire and cook a dinner and survive like real women. It took a little while to recall all that junk they forced us to learn from Church-mandated girls' camp, but we got that fire going. I made Becca call me lord of the flame for the rest of the evening.

She had to use my dad's extraordinarily dull hatchet to chop up some of the firewood we bought and make kindling. Then I made fire like a pro. We were totally awesome.

Then we cooked dinner, which was hot dogs and beans. We even boiled water to make hot chocolate. It was the quaintest campsite ever. I made Becca take a picture of my pie tin and I photographed the hot dogs being turned into dinner.

Then we tried to make s'mores, but our hershey bars had melted during the incredibly hot car ride up the mountain, so we stuck then in the cooler and they froze all funny and by then we were too tired to make them anyway. It was a great night.

Later that night we used Indy as a space heater in our tent while we watched Prince of Persia on my laptop. Aside from a midnight visit to the pitch-black, non-flushing toilets (where Latrine Man lives), it was an uneventful night. Breakfast is always harder to make than dinner, so I won't go into that whole affair, but we got home safe and sound and made ready for our desert camping trip that next night.

It's Not About The Religion

"My major concern with moving it [the location of the Muslim center] is that the headline in the Muslim world will be Islam is under attack in America, this will strengthen the radicals in the Muslim world, help their recruitment, this will put our people — our soldiers, our troops, our embassies, our citizens — under attack in the Muslim world and we have expanded and given and fueled terrorism," he said.

This was the response Imam Rauf gave to the idea of moving the Muslim center farther away from the location of the 9/11 terrorist attack. I found his words mildly threatening and don't much appreciate him saying that he has to keep the center in a controversial location to prevent Muslim extremists from attacking Americans out of rage. This IS America, right? We have the freedom and intelligence to believe, think, act, and feel the way we want without fear of vicious attack from those who would impose a different belief on us. This is not a struggling country, or one mired by a regime. We are strong and independent and accepting of ALL religions--Christianity included--and not just the religions that are currently the most politically correct. So whether you agree or disagree about the current location of the planned center, everyone can agree that cowing under a threat of attack is not something Americans did in the past or believe in today.

We should be welcoming to other religions, yet strong in our Christian beliefs. We should do away with the ignorant fear of the Muslim religion in our country as it does no one any good and is a danger to many. But we should also make darn sure we are not so "understanding and open to new ideas" that we forget the ideals on which we used to stand firm. We built this country on righteous principles, and those principles ring true today and forever, if we could only remember and keep them. It's one thing to love our Muslim brethren, and another thing to throw away our own beliefs and embrace Islam.

What I see happening today where religion and political correctness are concerned is the same kind of reverse discrimination that we've all endured before. Women were not equal in the workplace, so now they get all kinds of advancements and benefits in the name of forced equality. Blacks, Hispanics, Native Americans, and any number of other ethnic groups and minorities were discriminated against so now they have an easier time of it when they apply for promotions, scholarships, and grants. That is not equality. And neither is America bowing to the Muslim religion or any smaller, extremist faction of that religion. We do not back down on our principles to appease angry, threatening people. We do not allow them to scare us into submission the way the extremists do in their own countries. We know how great our country is, and it's high time we stop apologizing for it. You hear that, President? Stop bowing to other princes and apologizing for our capitalism or democracy. We're amazing!

That nutjob pastor and his 50 parishioners are simply wrong in their threat to have a burn-a-Koran day. We all know that. But I'm certain that many people, myself included, feel the way they do: that America has done enough to tiptoe around sensitive religions and that maybe our viewpoints should be respected first in this country. Those crazy Floridians are frustrated, and I am too, but our frustration is not at the teachings of the Koran--it's not about the religion--but at the leaders in this country who do not put America first in their policies and actions, and at those in other countries who try to force us to our knees with political correctness. We cannot allow America to become mockable or disrespected. We have a legacy to uphold, after all.

Shortest and Longest Trip *Ever*

Wow, I'm tired. Here's what happened last night.

Around 9:30 (Utah time) I bought a bunch of junk food at a gas station while filling up so I could stay awake on my way back home. Josh likes to drink energy drinks to keep him awake, but for me, it's always been chewing. On the way up I took down an entire bag of sonic ice. It was glorious, but I also had to have the heater on the whole way up. On the way back down, it was chips, twizzlers, and bubble gum. I learned that nothing is as effective as ice.

I made it to Fillmore before I just had to pull over or die, so I pulled over. I figured I'd sleep for maybe 30 minutes and then jump back onto the interstate. At 12:32 am (my time) I woke up completely frozen and stiff. It was flippin' chilly outside! I forgot that Utah gets cold at night even during the summer, so I was completely surprised by how miserable I was as I straightened the seat and turned the car back on.

From there, it was almost a straight shot home. I stopped in Cedar City to gas up at the Love's. I love Love's because it's huge, brightly lit, and always busy. It makes me feel a little bit safer to be around a bunch of strangers. But this time, Love's was totally empty! I was afraid the store was closed, but luckily it wasn't. I think it was around 2 or 2:30 so nobody was in it but me and a couple of creeper guys. I bought a cup of ice and hurried outta there.

On the way back to the interstate, I switched on my dying phone and listened to one of the most hilarious voicemails I've ever heard. I hope Rachel decides to blog about Jonathan's Ambien experience last night, because he drunk dialed and started singing and slurring on my answering machine. It made me just cry, it was so funny.

Then my phone died. That sucked.

The rest of the trip also sucked. I get really bored while driving long-distance and that makes me sleepy. The ice kept me going until after the gorge, and then I just kinda had to suck it up for the last stretch. So I did, but it felt like the longest trip in the world. Once I got into town around 5 (my time), I filled up one last time just to make sure my mom had a full tank before I returned the car. Rhonda's a thirsty beast, btw.

Anyhoo, then I plugged in my phone and collapsed into bed. And I'm still tired. The End.

Marriage Shouldn't Be This Tough

So more drama over more reception plans tonight. I was so tired of explaining and arguing and explaining some more (my mom especially needs a lot of explaining for her to understand), that I tried to convince Josh to let me just cancel the whole stupid thing. He tried a "compromise" and said we could maybe have one in Utah and none in Vegas. Like that wouldn't piss off everyone I know. I hate receptions; I hate everything about them. I just want to marry some random dude--why do we have to throw an expensive, stressful party over it? Gah!

Night of the Endless Receptions

So yesterday at 5:00 a.m. I woke up very startlingly from a terribly vivid nightmare. I don't often dream, I rarely remember them, and this is the first nightmare in recollection that featured me as the helpless victim to a crime. I am never the victim in my dreams.

Anyhoo, this awful, horrible, frightening nightmare woke me up at 5:00 a.m. and I was so shaken from it that I couldn't get back to sleep. So I stayed away for the next five hours, got ready for work, and left at 9:30. I got stuck at work for an hour and a half longer than I normally am because two walk-ins wanted to be fitted. I was ecstatic to dress them because I LOVE fitting men for tuxes, but that meant Becca (my ride) had to wait a really long time in the back sewing room for me to finish helping them because I couldn't leave the manager there by herself. That sucked for Becca and I felt so bad that it kinda sucked for me too. Then it really sucked for the both of us when we tried to get onto the 15 and found out there was a horrible accident on Sahara (there's always an accident on Sahara) and it was rush-hour and we weren't moving. We didn't move for about an hour but then we got home in 45 min after that, so it was all good, I guess.

The point of my rambling is that work was very long and busy and I had been up for a very long time. I was tired and my feet hurt and I could have eaten an entire horse (not the meat because that's gross, but all four of his horseshoes, easily) by the time I got home. Good thing I found out that three of my family's friends had their receptions that night.

So instead of sitting down and taking off my shoes, I wolfed down some food and raced out to Rhonda, where I was whisked off along with my parents and a couple-a spare sisters to the first reception.

The three receptions were all very nice, but at each one I spoke with at least two people who asked me if I was getting ideas from all the reception set-ups. Not really, I thought. Why would I want to use someone else's ideas? What--did they think I'd be calling up the groom the next day to find out if I could borrow their twinkle lights? Maybe I should have brought a notebook and jotted down some themes, I don't know. I thought I was there to offer my support of the new couple, but I guess not. I was supposed to be working. Don't they know that's Bob and Nicole's job? Goodness.

IOU

Dear Becca,

You made a bet with me that I couldn't clean our entire room by myself. You even bet me ten bucks that I couldn't clean it. You went to sleep laughing at my pathetic attempts to make a dent in your huge piles of unorganized laundry and your stack-o-stuff in the closet, on the desk, on your dresser. Well you're quite literally snoring in bed right now, and I'm sitting in a perfectly spotless room. I took a break to talk to Josh, but other than that, I sorted, organized, and filled two trash bags with all kinds of your junk all night. By the way, you're a full-fledged packrat. Some things are meant to be thrown away--trust me. Just let go of those old achievement days awards. You were ten. Times have changed.

I even made time to organize my mail and change my sheets. My laundry's washing right now and I think I'll take a shower before trying to go to bed. You're gonna be surprised when you wake up. Don't bother looking for those popsicle sticks; I threw them away. You'll thank me in a couple of weeks when you realize you never use them. You're welcome.

You owe me ten bucks.

Blue Badge of Stupid

So at work last Friday I was walking through the wedding dresses to get to the front desk, and the racks are positioned really close together, so I was squeezing through rather quickly to avoid getting claustrophobic. I was going so quickly, it seems, that I failed to notice the rack of bowties hanging up on the wall, the one with hooks that jut out two inches. My arm noticed them. It took a few days, but I finally have a gigantic bruise on my left arm. It's seriously huge and kinda awesome. After Bertha you'd think I'd be extra cautious. Nah. I like my badges of stupid.