Coasters

Five season passes to Lagoon: $450.00

One ball throwing game measuring the speed of Andrew's pitching*: $2.00

Video taping your kids' faces as they ride their first roller coasters: Priceless


I recommend you turn your speakers down because there is screaming involved. (Mostly on my part, I'm afraid.)


* 68 mph, by the way. Worthy of a giant, inflatable bat, but Andrew felt ashamed that he hadn't hit at least 75 mph, and I would not give him another $2.00 so he could feel like a man. So he pouted while he took Drew on the carousel. Also, this wasn't "technically" Cameron's first roller coaster. But it was his first that went upside-down. Good stuff.

A Bucket List

About a week ago, I got a phone call from my great-aunt, Diane. She is the fabulous sister of my fabulous Grandma Kay. She told me of her Thanksgiving trip to Mexico, and that she had crossed two things off of her bucket list. I was beyond impressed. I was...inspired! I don't know her exact age, but we now know that she isn't old enough yet to sit down and let the rest of her life pass her by!

She told me that she rode a boat in the middle of the ocean, even though she is terrified of water. Check! She also tried sushi. Check! I asked her if she liked it, and she said NO!

So I've been thinking about what I want to do or accomplish before I die. I have already checked a few things off of my own list, such as getting married, having children, visiting Alcatraz... But that, I'm afraid, might be it. Oh, no, if you count a high school production as being in a play, then I've done that too. Maybe if I really sat and thought about it, I'd find that I've done more than I originally thought. And I definitely want to sit down and make an entire Bucket List. But not today.

Today, I wish to tell you about the next item to be crossed off of my list. Some of you may remember me writing a while ago about Andrew's idea that we do something awesome for our tenth anniversary that is coming up in April. Well, we've finally made our decision. We are going to fly into D.C. and visit with our East Coast relatives, let them show us the sights, and then we are going to travel to New York, where we will each cross off an item from our Bucket Lists. I will get to be in New York - something that I've wanted to do since forever, and Andrew will get to see Phantom Of The Opera. I've seen it, and he's been jealous of me all these years. Well, no longer! We are both so excited to see family, be childless for just a while, and visit some amazing places! And because Grandma Kestner wasn't offended by my story about losing a turd in the backyard, I feel fairly confident that she won't be appalled by every word that passes my lips. Only some of them.

All of these plans require the funds of a giant tax return, so lets all hope that being poor pays off big-time in the coming year!

Still Regretting This

This dining table and chairs very nearly became my Christmas present. I found it online, and immediately knew that I would trade one of my children for it. (Depends on the day, if you're wondering which one.) I was instantly in love. It is my dream table, and the chairs are sending me into swooning bliss. They'd be even better in red, but that could have been changed. When I sent Andrew the link and begged him to get it for me, he put up such a stink about how ugly he thought it was that my heart sank and I let the seller move on to the next potential buyer. I will mourn this set for the rest of my life. Oh, the mustard top!

By the way, don't forget to enter the toy give away here. Even if you don't have anyone at home that would like the Lego set, there's surely a toy collection box near your home this time of year!

There's always time for happiness.

Last night it was my privilege to attend the wedding of my Grandfather to the Sweetheart of his winter years. It was beautiful to witness two people embracing life when so many others their age have decided that they have done all they are going to do, seen all they are going to see, and experienced all the good there is in life. I don't know Joyce all that well yet, but I know that she is now one of the luckiest women in the world to be a member of the John O. McClurg Jr. family. I pray that the newlyweds have many adventurous years together.

I'm sure they're all nice, normal people. Just like me.

I was browsing through a magazine of local ads that comes in my mail every month or so, and I stumbled upon this picture which was part of an advertisement for a hair salon. It was really painful to have all the coke I was trying to swallow shoot through my nose.

My first instinct was to ridicule them relentlessly for the insane way that they had intentionally styled their hair. Who in their right mind would willingly let one of these women get anywhere near their hair with a pair of scissors or a bowl of color and a fist full of foil?

And then I remembered that I am trying to be a nice person who never speaks ill of anyone. So I decided to give each of them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe each woman had a completely logical reason to be sporting the do's that they are so proudly showing off? I bet I can figure out just what they are, too.

The woman front row, center, "Brenda", is smirking slightly because last week, the girl in the back with the black and white hair, ("Jazzmin") talked her into getting a Brazilian Wax, and as pay-back, she decided not to tell "Jazzmin" which day the photographer would be coming in to take the company picture. "Brenda" is usually a very kind person, but a Brazilian wax is not to go unpunished.

"Jazzmin" slept on her left side all night, having used an entire bottle of hair glue as well as a hefty amount of colored hairspray the evening before as part of her skunk costume in a performance of Peter Pan, where she played one of the Lost Boys. She crashed into bed when she got home without washing her hair or setting her alarm. She woke up the next morning ten minutes after she was supposed to leave for work at the salon, and rushed out the door without so much as a glance in the mirror. Had she known that it was picture day, she would have taken the time to shower the glue and colored hairspray from her locks before heading to work, even though she would have been late. She is now plotting her revenge on "Brenda" sitting so smugly in the center of the picture with her almost completely normal hair. The thought of getting even is the only reason she can muster up a smile as the photographer snaps the photo that "Jazzmin" knows will be seen in the homes of 2,500 Utahans.

Girl on the right, middle row, we'll call her "Val", is just really confused right now and doesn't know why there are bright flashes of light coming at her. She's very glad that the nice man standing near all that strange looking equipment keeps telling her to "Smile!" It reminds her that everything will be okay. Being as lost and confused as she is, one cannot expect her to know what is going on on the back of her head.

There was a lot of chaos going on at the salon on the day of the photo shoot, and someone carelessly left their blow dryer's cord trailing across the floor. "Daisy", (front row, left), was running to the bathroom to check her make-up when she tripped on that cord, flew through the air, and somehow hit both sides of her head on the reception desk. She landed with such force that the oak desk was cracked and her hair, which is normally all one color, began to turn red, almost like a bruise! The sides of her skull also began to form giant goose-eggs, giving the impression that her head actually has corners. She's hoping that the effects will last long enough for the medical field to determine if she is the only person in the world with hair capable of changing color after traumatic impact. If she is, in fact, unique, she may be able to land a spot on Oprah with Dr. Oz telling her why she is so special. "Daisy" always manages to see the bright side of life.

"Erica", (middle row, left), was simply so scared when "Daisy" took her little spill, that her hair stood right up on end, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not tease it back down to it's normal position before the photographer arrived. She's very relieved that "Daisy" is alright, as it was her blow dryer that caused the accident, and she didn't want to get sued or fired.

And finally, "Shawn", (front row, right), has a very inspiring story. Ten years ago she was sixteen and in the midst of her rebellious years. She happened to be at a party one night, when excited shouts carried over the blaring ACDC, and she found that she was the cause of all the commotion. "I can see!" cried a young man standing with his hand in a chip bowl, looking vaguely in her direction. "I can see something! What is it?" As it turned out, this boy eating chips was blind, had been since birth, and had never seen anything - not even color - in his entire life. But that night at the party, he caught his first and only glimpse into what the rest of us see every day. He saw the "Vicious Rose" color that "Shawn" had dyed her hair. It was so bright, and so unnatural, that it somehow registered in his broken eyes' color-detecting cones. It was a genuine miracle! "Shawn" had been his color in the darkness, and they were never apart again. It really was love at first sight. As the years went by, "Shawn" moved on from her rock n' roll and chains phase, but her hair remained the only thing that her love could see, and so she really couldn't change it, could she?

I admit defeat. I failed in my attempt to be kind today. I simply couldn't help myself, so let the hate mail flow freely! I just really, really hope that the girl in the back is actually a nail tech or a masseuse and never actually touches anyone's head.

I Am The World's Biggest Ignoramus - But The Pictures Are Sweet!

Two years ago, almost to the day, I was a youth leader for our church. I was responsible for teaching a lesson every other Sunday to the 14 and 15-year-old girls, and helping them plan and execute their mid-week activities. One particular week in August they had decided to go ice blocking. Now, for anyone who does not know what that is, I shall explain. You sit on a block of ice and slide down a grassy hill. That's about it. I had never been ice blocking before, so I was anxious to give it a try. I picked up a van full of girls, bought 6 blocks of ice at a gas station and we made our way to a park that featured a phenomenally steep hill.

It was a lovely summer evening, and I enjoyed watching the girls act like silly children while they whooshed down the hill on their giant cubes of ice. When everyone had had a few turns, I decided to take a ride myself. So I placed my towel atop the ice, sat my giant rear end on the block and scooted off. It was similar to one of those carousels outside shopping centers that you put your quarter in and slowly revolve in a circle for a lousy minute or so. The experience wasn't nearly as exhilarating as it looked, and I was left feeling a little jipped.

I carried the block of ice back up the hill, and as I crested the top, I saw It. The long, metal slide. And of course, I thought, "Oh, man! It would be so cool for someone to go down that on their block of ice." (I know - only a fool would do such a thing, but wait for it...)

Now this was no sissy kid slide. It was about 25 feet long from top to bottom and sloped with approximately a 35 degree angle. In the world of slides, it was steep and it went forever. (It has since been removed from the park, most likely due to it's insanely unsafe nature.) So really, what better way to take a lazy ride down a hill on an ice block and turn it into a thrilling show of ultimate awesomeness?? That's what I thought, anyway. So I took one of those darn blocks and put it at the top of the slide and sat on it. And then I waited to gather my nerve. All of the girls were standing at the top of the slide with me, as it began at the top of our grassy hill. One of them said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

You'd think that a young, invincible girl questioning the wisdom of what I was about to do would make me think twice, but no. I was already sitting there, shorts getting a little wet from the melting ice, and if I chickened out then the girls might think me to be a wimp, and I was trying to be the cool leader - so that just wouldn't do.

I gave the block of ice a little forward thrust, and let go of the side rails.

And then two things happened simultaneously. I think I had time to mutter, "Oh shit!" and then I was launched off the bottom of the slide, flying through the air.

The actual descent from the slide happened so quickly that there would have been some kind of land speed record set, if we happened to have been timing it. Conversely, the part where I was flying through the air took so long that I had time to think, "What have I done?? This is going to hurt!" And then I landed, with excruciating pain, and slid across the sand for about 10 feet.

Immediately, I did what I could to avoid further humiliation. I sat up, pretended that my butt didn't feel like it had just been rear-ended by a MAC truck, and smiled. Yeah, I'm an idiot.

All six of the girls came running to my aid, inquiring as to my condition. I assured them that I was fine, and stood up to brush myself off. My feigned nonchalance seemed to have worked, until one of the girls said, "You're bleeding!"

Crap. Sure enough, that slight stinging I felt in my calf was the result of a gargantuan sand rash. I told her I was fine, that it didn't even hurt. (Which, when compared to the agonizing pain in my hiney, was completely true.)

We finished up the evening with a few more runs down the hill; sticking to the grass, of course. All the while I tried not to show how incapacitated I was, and the only thing I could think about was whether all these girls would rush home and tell their parents what a moron I was. That's exactly what I would have done, had I been in their shoes. As the sun began to set, we piled back into my car and headed home. I had to drop everyone off at their houses, and so I drove very quickly and tried to appear to be sitting on both sides of my butt, when in fact, I was only letting my left side come in contact with the seat.

Finally, everyone was safely in their homes, and I could head for mine. Unfortunately, we were living in an apartment at the time that was at the top of three flights of stairs. I managed the torturous climb and entered my front door. Andrew was sitting there on the couch and I just let it all out. I hobbled over to him and cried and told him how stupid I felt and how much my backside was killing me. He laughed. A lot. Then, I pulled my shorts down to have a look.

Here's what we found:


(This is a picture of a picture because my scanner won't work, but notice the nice lump on my upper thigh, just above my pant line? That's where my sorry butt landed, right on the edge of the ice block that nearly killed me. About 3 months ago, I finally got feeling back in that part of my leg. And yes, I just posted a picture of my arse on the internet.)

More of Andrew's laughing followed this discovery, but it was several days before I could see the humor in it. After all, I had to go to church 3 days later and pretend that everything was cool, and that I didn't have obscene scabs clear down my leg from sliding so far on the sand.



That made shaving quite impossible.

I do not recommend acting in such a reckless and idiotic manner, but if ever you do, be sure to take pictures, because once the pain and numbness and embarrassment fade, you might just be pretty darn proud of the size bruise you can give yourself.


I apologize for having failed to forewarn you that you would be looking at my big ol' white butt cheek. I just think it's a breathtaking picture!

Now, folks, the moral of the story. Do not try to impress 14-year-olds with any sort of physical skill or daring. It's much less humiliating to just bring awesome snacks. Also, ice blocking is no fun.