What is real courage? Is it doing things that are scary? Is it trusting your gut? Is it saying yes when you want to say no?

Maybe it’s saying no. To the people that drain you, the things that cause you harm. It can be really scary to say no to something that you fell in to but at the end of the day those things can take your most important asset away from you, your time. Toxic parts of your life are there because you allow them to be. You need to take the power and courage from within to end what does you harm.

No more excuses.


More Credit

Another topic from The Daily Post:

Name someone who deserves more credit than they get.

And for bonus points, how to change things so they get more.

Every time we are anywhere, we get in to this discussion that boils down to the same thing: the face of the place. The Customer Service person, at any restaurant, bank, ski hill, etc. etc. is what you see of the company. It is who you think Delta or Deer Valley or that burger place IS. If that’s bad, your experience will be. So why don’t those people get paid anything? There’s no incentive for them to go above and beyond otherwise, trust me. I’ve done all of those types of jobs.

You can’t get ahead without making a transition to behind the scenes. Then you forget what it was like. Then you lose touch. On the other hand, if my day somewhere isn’t that great, but one greeter or PR person is nice, that can completely make up for it. I’m surprised none of the resorts HAVE a person they pay well who is JUST a greeter that says ‘hi’ and knows where stuff is. It seems like a no brainer!

I don’t have the answer to change the system, but I can only hope it does. There are some places that get it, and are at least nice to their lowly Customer Service employees, and encourage them to work hard. The Canyons got much better at this this year – everyone says ‘hi’, lift operators ask you how your day is. But I doubt they are getting paid more…


I like not titling my blogs what they’re really about. So they DON’T pop up in google searches, even though that violates rule #1 of traffic. I also like that my FB, twitter, and THIS site actually take you trying to get to.


So I can’t rant guilt free. And I don’t do it nearly enough.

Here I go:

MK and I had an awesome time at the Park City Cocktail Contest.

Thursday night. Swanky bar, I’m OK saying we can only afford to eat at if we’re too embarrassed to say no to who invites us- it’ll happen.

Drinks, fun! PEOPLE.

But some chick that was hitting on MK (NOT EVEN THE RANT YET) tells us to get this drink, since she’s a PR chick and this drink will win. Wait, what?

Well, to make it far, sure, maybe it’s easier to know the winner ahead of time, if it’s a celebrity judge panel. Like they know what tastes good. But still. Not the rant.


So, this drink won. Good for this drink, that we had, and it was good.

This is where you watch the video.

Fun, right? And we get a parting gift, and it was for charity,


(Begin rant)


That link is  the vodka, suggesting a drink that won a contest that was judged on ‘creativity’. Grr.

No You Don’t

I try so hard not to be too ranty around here. There are a million things I’ve learned about growing up and all that important life lessons in your twenties crap that helps me keep my lips closed way more often than I used to.


So MK and I went to Deer Valley Friday to watch the Qualifying Olympic trials – men’s and women’s aerials.

We decided while we were out to treat ourselves to a drink on Main St. It ended up being way too busy so that drink didn’t happen and we headed back to our car.

There’s this guy that is always there – same guy for the last three years – that stands on the street and tries to sell you a time share, Vegas style, with catchy phrases. “Where are you skiing tomorrow?” “Want some free lift tickets?” TB and I have always smiled politely and told the guy that we lived here. In deed, we did. Even if I was just renting. I didn’t need a time share pitch.

So same guy says same thing Friday night, and I smile and say we lived here just as nice as possible.

Some chick smoking in her Hanes sweatshirt mutters to him while I’m within earshot: “No you don’t”.

You know that thing, where something happens, and you spend the next two days thinking of what you COULD have said? I’m still doing that.

“Well, we probably don’t share the same circles, I don’t shop for clothes at WalMart.”

“How many bedrooms does that house you bought have? What, you don’t own a home here?”

“Stop smoking and go for a run.”

I wasn’t mean, I just couldn’t keep quiet though.

I said something to the effect of “Excuse me? As a matter of fact I do. Mind your business.”

But I’m still all worked up about it. At least wait til I’m out of earshot. Or how about just be nice. It takes a lot less effort. Just because we are in a small city doesn’t mean you know everyone. You certainly don’t know me, or need to concern yourself. Ugh.

The Best And Worst Of Times

We interrupt all the boring house talk (don’t worry, it’ll return tomorrow) to tell you about our NYE 2010.

We had an AWESOME day skiing with a snowboarder friend from San Diego. I told you I wasn’t super fond of PCMR here last year, and trust me, it wasn’t any cleaner and we waited in line 45 minutes for one lift. But I’m a better skier, and we found some unpacked parts of the resort. We dodged the crowds and the newbies. What a difference it makes. The only catch was we were skiing runs that totally should not have been open. We were hitting ice patches, rocks, and grassy wet spots in some places. The pressure of opening the resort as fully as possible to get the tourists in over the holidays is too much sometimes. Mother Nature didn’t give us enough snow for this week. That being said, again, we had a GREAT time. I was as good as (I humbly state ‘if not better than’) the company, which makes an enormous difference. We skied until 4 or 5, super late in the day for us. So that was the best of times. Taking 2009 out with a bang up ski day.

MK loves NYE. It might be his ‘thing’. Holidays in general are his thing, NYE and July 4th especially (I know, crazy right?). He really wanted to go to Vegas with some friends but I had to lay down the law and say that since the fireplace guy quoted us a million dollars for new fireplaces (or he suggested burning the house down and starting over) this house had to be our priority and I didn’t want to spend over a grand easily for one night. Maybe some other time.

So we got tickets to a bar party here. We plowed the driveway first, and I cooked a huge steak dinner and made some really good hors d’oeuvres to take next door. Our super awesome neighbors in their super awesome house had a bunch of super cool friends that we got to meet. We had a wonderful time getting to know them and look forward to hanging out in the future*.

We excused ourselves (in hindsight, should have stayed!) and got ready to go out (threw on a mini dress). It was a super cute dress and I don’t have one good picture of it. I might just wash it and wear it tonight and take some pictures…Anyway. We were told that Harry O’s is the most night-clubby nightclub in Park City, and it would be a good place to spend NYE. Some Pussycat Doll was hosting and I’m not going to say the DJs name due to where I’m going with this but I bet you could figure it out in a few minutes searching online.

This bar, this party, the people who worked there, the host, the DJ – I mean, I have nothing good to say.

MK and I will have a good time no matter what. We are determined people. Especially when we spent money to get in, in a line that took forever, where the retarded door girl just stared at us for a couple minutes before doing her really hard job of looking our names up on the list. Then the guy wouldn’t stamp us since working a STAMP is hard. Then, to check your coat was 8$. I don’t care what holiday it is, we live in a COLD place. Don’t charge that much (IF AT ALL) for a coat check. That is LAME. The bartenders were acting like you were lucky they were even there at all. I’m not sure if people don’t tip well in bars in Utah, but I do. There have been a few bars here where these bartenders are so. put. out. to get you a drink. On NYE? Come on.

The host girl was totally cracked out of her mind. She did what you can barely call ‘burlesque’ if you’ve ever seen anyone that knows what they are doing. If she was really a PCD, I now have no need to ever she that kind of show. Her eyes were rolling back into her head, she couldn’t talk coherently, and I’m pretty sure the thing that was supposed to be so ‘hot’ – her in a bathtub – was almost a disaster, since she looked about to topple over at any second.

The music was the WORST EVER. If you’re a renowned DJ, don’t come to Utah and act like you’re DJing for Mormons. There are plenty of people traveling. And if that’s what you play when you’re in LA, SD, or Las Vegas, crap, anywhere, you should get booed and shut down.

Now get this: The DJ and whoever was yelling over his awful mashup almost missed New Year’s. How do you mess THAT up? We literally got treated to a FOUR SECOND countdown. 4,3,2,1. Done. Sucks for you if you were in the bathroom.

At this point I am off the dance floor and making my way out of the cheesy crowd ASAP. People that thought they were big deals were climbing up on stage. Girls must have forgotten you could SEE UP THEIR DRESSES and were doing things I hope they felt bad about the next day (Note: Don’t wear your grannie panties with teddy bears on them if you’re going to dance like that!). People were actually ON PURPOSE pouring their drinks on people, which mystified me. The whole crowd was nuts. Maybe in a state where it’s hard to get booze you suck at drinking. Even in the most nutso bars in Austin, LA, Vegas, drunk people dance and hug on NYE, not pour drinks all over the place.

So we found a nice empty bar upstairs and things got better until a guy doused us all in his champagne, again on purpose. Don’t they know that’s alcohol abuse? Drink it. Then I’m not kidding, a guy a friend was dancing with BIT HER ON THE NECK.

Sticky and overwhelmed, we went for our coats. Which we got a dirty look for not tipping for – don’t work where they charge 8 DOLLARS A COAT and maybe you’d make a tip. We went to our friend’s hotel and hung out until almost 4 laughing about the night.

Next year we might have to do Vegas. Because I thoguht hard about this rant. I’m not too old to have a good time. I wasn’t wasted, but I was in a good mood ready to have fun. This placce was totally a train wreck. There’s not getting around it.

*Which will test my skills. Holy cow, when they all were asking why we moved here and we said “to ski”, I thought that was a totally normal answer – like, why ELSE do people move here?!?! But these people taught me there is SO MUCH MORE AWESOME STUFF to do here. These guys all ice climb (I don’t even get that idea), snowshoe, hike, bike, ride rapids, etc. etc. I told them I’d try everything once as long as they knew I’d be bad at it, not matter what it was!

Sheer Desperation

This is my first time attempt at blogging from my Blackberry. Yes, you read that right. My fingers are already sore, that’s how much I love you. Typos don’t count for 48 hours.

MK is totally not sharing his computer with me. Apparently it’s only for work. (What IS that? I hate four letter words!). But I have a life too! And while Dell is sitting around playing Ms. Pac-Man on MY laptop – I’m forced into a little ‘Rev Run’ act of typing this much on this silly little keyboard (he does it in the tub on his show, I’m on the couch).

I really don’t know what is going on in the world without my computer. I can’t get the latest Jon and Kate news, or even know what’s going on locally! It’s a little funny, but I thrive on my social networking and I’m feeling a little out of the loop!

UPDATED TO ADD: Hey, I didn’t do too bad! MK saw this and about died. Hence new shiny blog post above, via computer. 😉

Cost-Benefit Analysis Of Being Unrealistic

It seems pretty standard to me that most people go through periods of frugality and periods of splurging. Sometimes it just depends what day it is. With RDR coming up, and my roots showing, I decided to buy an 8$ box of hair dye that proclaimed itself to be “Deep Brown”, the color that sounded most like my own natural color. I didn’t feel up to calling, getting an appointment, sitting around in an uncomfortable chair, and waiting for someone that isn’t me to blowdry my hair into a style I never wear (why do they always do that?). It would be easier and I’d be saving money, right?

Why did I think that? That must be because I am a moron. I forgot that the reason you spend the 100$ is so that your “Deep Brown” hair will not come out midnight black except for the spot way in the back you couldn’t reach (which is thankfully only visible if I make it a point to show you). You pay for that removal creme they use so that the color is not on you forehead, ears, wrists where the gloves slipped, and mysteriously a couple splatters on your shoulders, which are all still there after two showers and three attempts with makeup remover.

Tough. I’m not caving in. I’m dealing with this for at least a month until the greys are showing again. I might even say that black is what I was going for. I cleaned up the mess in the bathroom, bleached the destroyed hair towel, and found a hat to wear as I head out to get some sun. Maybe no one will notice my hair if I have a great tan.

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Tax Drama

MK is a procrastinator. A big one. Many of you know this about him. What you might not know – and what I didn’t know until we were married- was just how bad.

For example, there is an unopened TurboTax CD sitting on his desk right now. Before I got married my daddy did my taxes in January for me right when I got my W2 and sent it to him so I could get that money back for whatever car repair or rent that came up right when I was low on cash. But it got done. Early.

So I couldn’t comprehend the first April 15th I spent with MK, where he stayed up until nearly midnight and had to find the last open post office to get a postmark in time. And the year after that, even with me suggesting we get an early start, the same results. That was a frustrating time. He doesn’t like to be forced in to things. He’ll put it off until he can’t possibly do it in time, then does it. The taxes always get done (and well).

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I could do our taxes, never mind quickly. This guy has the hardest job for taxes on the planet, but he’s mastered it in the last ten years. Well, the last ten April 14th and 15ths. While I hide under the covers and eat crackers. It makes him a little crazy. Then we can’t spend money for like a month, the more I think about it the more worked up I get over the craziness…

So I’m over it. I’ve taken a step back, told TB I’ll be on her couch to avoid the whirlwind of looking for stamps and getting to the post office on time. Stay out of the path of the last minute filer, that’s SGS’s advice.

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Gift Giving

Are you any good at giving gifts? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, part of me wanting to be nice and do things for other people. I bet everyone we know thinks we are terrible people that just spend money on ourselves, but here’s a reminder that’s just not true.

I haven’t bought anyone in my family a birthday present in like, maybe ever. The last time I tried to buy my mom a birthday gift I was in a car wreck that completely totaled me, the car, and the gifts. And the two new CDs I bought myself (who doesn’t buy themselves stuff when they’re out shopping for others?). The problem really is that I have no idea what on earth they would want. I know what I think they SHOULD want, but over the years I’ve learned just how adopted I probably am by sharing these ideas with others and being laughed at.

Anyway, recently I got a gift for a friend (that got me one first, that’s like then you HAVE to do something) and I think she liked it. Then, just recently, I found ANOTHER gift. For a friend. That WANTED this gift. But couldn’t get it. And I got it. And they’ll get it soon. It’s dorky, but man am I super excited. I’m hoping that my gift giving lameness is turning around!

Side note: I was so worried I already blogged about being a crappy gift giver that I searched for ‘gift’ on my blog and reread a bunch of old posts, and man am I hilarious. Seriously, though, while being paranoid and searching, I found this post. Number 5 is why this is funny.

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Don’t Ma’am Me

Cute young woman or dirty old lady?

On the one hand, I think I’ve got a young ski outfit. I’m short, in my head that means I’m still growing. I feel young. I wear silly tshirts, I put my hair in pigtails. I stay up late and go out dancing.

On the other hand, I totally use Oil of Olay and have a bad knee and aches and pains. I complain about kids driving too fast. I know about the 80s, which was forever ago now.

Let me explain. I went skiing by myself. It’s hard – you have to know where you put the car and get all your own stuff. But it’s fun – you can do the same run 1000 times and stop when you want and talk to strangers on the chair lift.

I’ve never felt old or grown up. I don’t have those markers, other than being married- no mortgage, kids, whatever. So explain to me why talking to the guy on the lift and finding out he was 26 (I’m 27) made me feel like someone’s great great aunt?? I mean, I felt old! I usually assume anyone not in the Reindeer Club ski school is way waaay older than me. If you don’t look like a teenager, you’re 50. Apparently I’m closer to the latter now. And no one warned me! Today is the first day I’ve ever felt old. Hopefully it passes…


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