Diving in

I find this Pot-Shot extremely helpful today. I don't know if any of you remember seeing these in the weekday comic section in the paper. When I was in middle school, I used to cut them out, paste them in a notebook and keep them on a shelf in my room.

Lately I've been applying for writing jobs, but sometimes I'm my own worst enemy. I'll talk myself out of even throwing my resume out there because it's old,  and doesn't list enough experience. And all of my published clips are four years old. Within five minutes of constructing a cover letter, I start thinking I have no business even thinking I can apply for any job.

Whoever said we are our biggest critics nailed it. I don't know what it is that makes it so hard to overcome ourselves. Maybe it's the fear of rejection, and the thought that throwing yourself out there might not work. It feels easier to save yourself the heartbreak, and leave those starred e-mails about job opportunities in your inbox rather than face them head-on.

But ultimately that doesn't solve anything. Job postings disappear, and you're left with another missed opportunity gnawing at you. Sometimes it's better to leap without looking, and rely on the faith you can find in yourself.

I guess it's time to dive in.

Flat Tops

Last weekend we went up to the Flat Tops, which is one of our favorite spots to camp in Colorado. Unfortunately our super awesome camping spot was already occupied, so we had to go find a new super awesome campsite. Since our moms read this, I won't tell you all the details about what types of roads we inadvertently took our truck down (and up) — I'll just say that we were REALLY impressed with our truck, and that we didn't hurt it. But we won't be taking it back down those roads anytime soon. Or at least until we get it lifted, or buy a Jeep for that specific purpose.

The sketchy journey was worth it — we had the whole valley to ourselves with a lake a half mile away from our site, and we were right by the Blair Lake trail head. We cooked a magnificent feast of pork, onions, potatoes, poblanos and tomatillos. Tyler had to carry on the Beast Master name because I was full after the first serving. Here he is (on your right) finishing up his second helping.

The next morning we hiked the seven mile round-trip trek to Blair Lake, then packed up and headed home safely.


For more pictures of the sites and our crazy antics, click here.

P.S. Mom and Dad — Do you think Marty and Suzette could use this for a Kenai Peninsula Construction advertisement? Let me know if they're interested...

Apartment gardening

Here is visual documentation of the fruits of my labor: one single strawberry. I'm not counting the tomato plants we have, because they already came with tomatoes on them. And I won't count the herbs, because they were already full-grown herbs before they were planted in my hanging basket. But this one strawberry I grew. And that's pretty cool.

The Olympiad

Along Garmisch Drive kids were running around playing this morning when I went to walk the dogs. The three young girls next door declared they wanted to play gymnastics, and then started to argue who would get to be Gabby Douglas.

I have always loved watching the Olympics — summer and winter. I had Shannon Miller and Kristi Yamaguchi posters in grade school, and in high school I would stay up late and watch the late-night competitions when I was supposed to be sleeping.

When you're young, the Olympics inspire you. You watch and listen to the stories of the athletes, and they become your heroes within minutes. These are the people who inspire a new generation of athletes every four years. Recently on a flight from Portland to Denver, a group of kids were flying back from a swim meet. Since the games had started, all they could talk about was the events coming up, and who would become the reigning Olympic champion. Lochte, Franklin, and of course Phelps, were names batted around the cabin once we reached our cruising altitude.

No matter who you are, there is always someone or some team you begin to root for. That's why we can't stop watching — even if you've never seen team hand ball before. It makes it that much more exciting.

Two years already

Maybe it's because we dated for so long before getting married, but I still can't believe we've been married two years now.

I know it's weird, but I'm still finding out new things about Tyler. Just last night, he was telling me how disappointed he was in his ping-pong performance last week. Since I never have seen him play the game ever, I said he shouldn't be too hard on himself.

"But I used to be really good," he said. He continued on, and described the long hours spent in his dorm playing ping-pong and dominating the field. According to the story I heard, my husband was the Forrest Gump of Mathes Hall.

And then there is his ever changing ideas on his career path and entrepreneurial schemes. Over the years, I've grown accustomed to his quick shifts in direction and now can take them in stride. His abundance of plans for us makes life interesting, and definitely keeps me on my toes.

With all his silliness, and his earnest effort to carve out a life for us, he is the perfect balance that keeps me together. Maybe that's why the years seem to be flying by.