Showered

A couple weeks ago my wonderful friends (they're also all from Carbon County, which is why they're so super fabulous) Charity, Marisa, Heather and Holly threw an incredible shower for little Mirando. It was amazing, from the adorable centerpieces to the tasty cupcake party favors.

Thanks, girls! This whole getting-ready-for-baby-phase has been so much fun and made Z & me appreciate how many thoughtful friends and family members we have. We feel so lucky!

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A Sleepover, Socks! and a Shower

Last weekend (Not the most-recent one, but the one before that. Yes, I'm behind on blogging.) was one of my busiest, but most fun, to-date.

It all started out with a Friday night college roomie sleepover/baby shower at a cute condo on Park City's Main Street.

Jamie, Katie, Marcae and I all went out for dinner.

Then, we walked up Main Street to check into our condo. In addition to the charming sites on Park City's quaint little street, this sexy ensemble was spotted.

Christmas shopping for Zach? Done and done. Just what every man needs--fur bikini underwear. [Editor's note: Not sure why this mannequin has a purse instead of a head/upper torso. Park City can be a weird place.]

I wore my lovely tiara and Mom-to-Be banner. From a distance, I looked like a really bloated beauty queen (or perhaps one who was just a little too friendly with the judges, if you know what I mean), if I do say so myself.

Saturday morning we headed back home where we were all tired after staying up until 5 in the morning. Marcae even pulled one of her famous all nighters, except she really did stay up all night instead of falling asleep at 9:45 (good job, Marc!). We made sure that Mirando met his sugar quotient for the next 20 years, thanks to our lovely snack assortment. It was a perfect evening, thanks, roomies!

Fortunately everyone was able to wake themselves up for Saturday night's world-famous Stoked on Socks Sock Hop at Z Pizzeria. Katie and Mitch organized a fantastic event and we had at least three times the turnout we had planned. It was a great night and by the end of the evening more than 900 pairs of socks had been donated to the homeless!

(L): Finn is already a hit with the ladies. (R): Sweet dance moves were enjoyed by all.

(L): Socks! (R): Jamie & family.

(L): Susan & baby Bodhi; (M): Finn is testing out the socks. (R): The Rosenvalls

Thanks, Katie & Mitch for organizing such a fun night (and for setting such a great example for all of us).
There will be lots of warm toes thanks to you!

The following Sunday was busy as well; Zach's family hosted an amazing baby shower celebration. Everyone was so generous and thoughtful and gave us incredible baby gifts which have officially taken over our dining room. And, it's official: Our baby is probably going to be one of the best-dressed kiddos around, as evidenced by his wardrobe-staple onesie given to us by Zach's sister Amie.

Like father, like son.

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Pumpkin Party 2008

Last week, Z & I hosted our good friends Mark, Teri and Mr. Lewis for a pumpkin carving extravaganza. It was kind of a last-minute affair so we were sans actual pumpkin carving utensils but found that steak knives and dry erase markers worked just fine. And no trips to the hospital were required, which was a very real fear for most of the night as we poked, prodded and cut to create our jack-o-lantern works of art.

We also enjoyed some delicious Navajo Tacos, courtesy of Z Pizzeria's pizza dough, and Teri's perfect apple cider.

When I wasn't getting caught smuggling a pumpkin under my shirt, I put our bushel of apples (imported from my parents' tree in Price) to good use and made Martha's baked apples with Mexican chocolate.

It was a fun and festive night, but Parker was not impressed.

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Flashback Friday: Thanks, Craigslist

A little over five years ago, I rushed out of the office to grab a quick, nutritious lunch from Wendy's. I pulled my 1993 Acura Integra (known affectionately as Teg) into the drive-thru lane and was in deep concentration while debating my Dollar Menu item selection. It was my turn to pull up to the ordering board. I put my car in gear and pressed on the gas while letting off the clutch. Teg made an awkward noise, an automobile equivalent of an old man's last breath, and lurched forward. It then died while being stuck in first gear.

I couldn't move.

There were at least five cars behind me, the line wrapping all the way around the restaurant and into the street, and eventually they started honking for me to pull forward. I couldn't start the car and I couldn't even get it in neutral to push it out of the way. I ended up leaning my seat all the way back, putting my pointy-toe-slingback clad foot up on the dash board and pulled back as hard as I could on the stick shift. I figured either I would break off the shifter or die of an embarrassment-induced heart attack. I preferred the former.

It worked and my car was suddenly able to move into neutral. I don't remember what happened next but somehow, I was able to make the car hop/lurch a few feet over to where a parking spot had miraculously just opened up. I left the car there and called Z to come and rescue me from my humiliating fast food predicament.

That week we fixed the problem--a worn-out transmission--and decided it was time to upgrade to a newer vehicle.

A few weeks later I was in New York on a media tour with a client. I was in the back of a cab, puttering along in East Village traffic when my cell phone rang. It was Zach telling me about the nice couple who replied to our Craigslist ad about the car. The couple, whose car met its own untimely demise when a girl ran a stoplight, came over to see Teg and decided he wasn't a fit for them either, but Zach liked them a lot and joked, "Then can I interest you in a house?" Our rental house next door had just come up for rent.

The couple kind of laughed at the thought of looking for a car but getting a new house and decided to humor him and take a look. They loved their Avenues apartment but since they had just adopted a friendly golden retriever named Bonnie, decided a house would be better for them.

They took it on the spot.

When I returned from my trip, I met the couple, Maegan and Gabri, and immediately liked them and the way Maegan acted like it wasn't a big deal to sign the rental contract while sitting on our couch that had a folded sleeping bag in place of where a cushion should be since our new giant dog ate it. The fact her husband had an adorable, charming Italian accent didn't hurt either.

We hit it off immediately and Burly, Idaho's Maegan soon became one of my very best friends.

They moved back to Gabri's hometown of Rome, Italy a couple of years ago. I visited her there last summer and while we were sitting in a small, sidewalk cafe as Maegan gave me a wine-infused Italian lesson, I realized how lucky I am that I never got to order my Junior Bacon Cheeseburger.

Maegan & me near Rome's Villa Borghese

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Happy thought

The last couple weeks have been especially sad ones for many of my family and friends. There have been several accidents that have taken beautiful, vibrant people far earlier than anyone ever would have imagined.

These things have reminded me to appreciate the people in my life and how lucky we are to have each other around every day. I've also realized that in the grand scheme of things, little annoyances like a week without air conditioning; a house overflowing with unfolded laundry, dirty dishes and sawdust; and job-related craziness are truly not a big deal.

As scary as it is, I'm thankful that Z & I are gearing up to welcome our little bambino; I'm also feeling especially fortunate to be going through this getting-ready-for-a-baby phase with one of my best friends, Tori. She and I are due a day apart with our first kiddos--a girl for her and a boy for me. Yes, an arranged marriage is already in place. Mark your calendars for Spring 2028.

Here's to good friends and family and enjoying them as much as possible.

T (without her trademark platinum blond locks!) & me at her casa in Phoenix
at the start of our second trimesters.

Flashback Friday: Notre Dame

Last month, Kristyn traveled to Price from her home in Washington to baptize her beautiful little girl Ava in our hometown church. (Fun fact: Kristyn is one of my best friends, I've known her since I attended her older sister's birthday party when I was the whopping age of two weeks old.)

Ava's baptism was at Notre Dame de Lourdes Catholic Church which just so happens to be the same place that Kristyn, Marisa, our friend Rachele and I made our First Communions when we were in second grade. It's also the church where Z and I were married.

After the baptism festivities, Kristyn's husband Lance took a picture of the three of us, with the girls, on the front steps of the church:

(R): Marisa & Ella, Me & Mirando (in my belly) and Kristyn & Ava

Which looked surprisingly familiar to one of us in the exact same spot around 1986, although we were much more dressed up here:

(L): Father Schuh, Marisa, me, Rachele, Kristyn

Golf Carts Not Hand Carts

To celebrate Utah's favorite holiday, Pioneer Day on July 24, Teri, Mark, Zach and I hit the links in the early morning hours--emphasis on the early, our tee time was 7:40 a.m. On our day off. We enjoyed this day off work at our luxurious home club, Nibley Park. If you've never been to Nibley and plan to play there some day, you will need to know the dress code: cut-off denim shorts, sleeveless t-shirts and hopefully a cigarette dangling from your mouth. It's quite high-brow.

"See, Teri, that guy's mullet and midriff-bearing football jersey is exactly what
Phil Mickelson wore in the last tournament."

We played nine holes and had a wonderful time. A scout for the LPGA was there, saw Teri and me, and signed us up immediately to join the tour. OK, that didn't happen. But it totally could have because we really are that good. I even managed to play to the 1st-8th holes using the same ball. That's never happened to me before and I am very proud of myself.

Teri and I had so much fun playing together we even hit our tee shots
to almost the exact same spot.

Mark is demonstrating his golf attire modeling skills.

It was probably the most fun I've ever had playing golf and we made sure to refuel with a delicious breakfast at the clubhouse afterwards.

Our foursome after playing nine holes.

I find the fact that we spent part of this important day trekking over hills, through valleys and across streams in a cart without air conditioning the perfect way to salute our pioneer ancestors.

Bad Guys: Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

Recently Zach and I played host to some of our fellow SoTro (SOuth of TROlley neighborhood) residents for Neighborhood Watch Night. Everyone congregated in our dining room, including our informative and very tough looking liason with the SLPD, a local detective. Trust me, you don't want to mess with him.

We learned about fighting crime in our neighborhood and also used it as an excuse for a friendly get-together. Zach and I have mentioned in the past that living in our house is almost like camping. And not just because we were lacking fully functioning running water and had an unhealthy amount of dirt within our immediate living quarters when we first moved in. Our neighborhood reminds me of childhood camping trips where lots of family friends would park their trailers or tents near each other and you could kind of wander from one person's place to the next, hanging out, sitting outside telling stories and laughing. It's not uncommon at all for us to see neighbors outside, stop and talk to them and then before we know it, others have also gathered and we set up an impromptu dinner party where everyone rummages around for whatever is in their fridge, wine cellar (i.e., the little shelf next to the toaster) or fruit basket and a delicious evening ensues.

On this Neighborhood Watch Night we ventured out onto our front porch and everyone realized that we were all lacking in the dinner party item contribution department so Zach called up a connection we have at Z Pizzeria and had some pies delivered.

Mark and Zach keepin' it real on the porch swing.
They are scaring away drug dealers with their toughness.

Satu, Alex, Mark and Daniel taking a bite out of crime.

Ryan is warning criminals to stay far, far away from his home, car
and thin crust with extra cheese.

We found out that not only do we excel at fighting crime, we are also experts at fighting hunger. Particularly our own.



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Monday Lovely: Atherton

I am by no means a music expert (although I do pride myself on the incredible singing abilities I demonstrate while driving alone in my car) but even I recognize a great album when I hear it.

We play Atherton's Skyline Motel at nearly every barbecue we throw and it's so perfect at providing an excellent backdrop to warm summer nights spent with friends.

Plus, Zach and I are lucky enough to count the talented singer/songwriter/rockstar extraordinaire Ryan Tanner as one of our very dear friends. And you had better believe we namedrop every chance we get.

Right Now, Practicing my Best John McEnroe Tantrum

Last Saturday, I loaded up the Ford Explorer and hopped on I-15 to head down to St. George to see my good friend and former neighbor Abby. She moved far, far away last summer and was visiting Utah for a huge tennis tournament. I tagged along with her and her fun-loving tennis buddies all weekend, enjoyed the sun and picked up a thing or two about the game. Including:

1. A bagel is more than a breakfast food;
2. There is a difference between games, sets and matches (although I still don't know what that is); and
3. I am still ridiculously uncoordinated.

I also learned one more thing: if ever there was a sport for me, this is it! THEY GET TO WEAR SKIRTS. Now if they just add some high-heeled shoes to the mix, I may start playing tomorrow.

Abby and I both came back to the SLC on Sunday and headed straight for one of our mutually favorite places, Noodles, where we had delicious and reasonably priced pasta to our hearts' content.

Afterwards we met up with the world's greatest neighbors who live in SoTro, the world's greatest neighborhood. Scott & Ryan volunteered to host Neighborhood Game Night and the game of the evening was "The Great Dalmuti" where the first two players to get rid of all their cards are king and queen of the next round and the last two are serf and peasant. Because they are excellent at accessorizing they ensured we each had appropriate headwear.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend, full of friends, fun and family--I was even able to spend some time with my cute sister in Cedar City.

Abby went home Monday and we miss her already. I also realized I only have about 364 days to figure out what a backhand is. Abby, go ahead and sign me up for next year's tournament... If you dare.

Blogging Friend Birthday: Jill!

It was the end of summer 1992 and an unfortunately skinny girl who, after a long stretch of possessing a sparse wardrobe of white button-up shirts and navy blue plaid, was walking in her knock-off Girbauds, all alone, to the first class of her first day of public school. A class where she knew no one.

All of her friends who had also transferred to Mont Harmon Junior High from the local Catholic school, in a cruel joke by the pubescent social gods, got to live through their first class of the day together. They would make the transition going from a class of 13-20 students they had been with all their lives to a school of hundreds of strangers together.

The skinny girl with a grown-out perm and a mouthful of braces had to go all by herself. And across the parking lot to an overflow classroom (read: trailer), no less.

Opening the door to the trailer and feeling the gaze of dozens of strangers' eyes--many of which were covered in layers of early 1990's eyeshadow--she glances around, nervously trying to figure out where to sit. Her palms begin to sweat. She looks down at the cheaply carpeted floor.

But just then, halleluja!, the angels started to sing and the heavens put forth light on an adorable blond girl. The blond girl smiled and said the greatest phrase ever known to self-conscious 13-years-olds: "You can sit by me."

The skinny, awkward girl felt a surge of gratitude and quickly sat on the uncomfortable plastic chair. The most wonderful chair in the world!

The junior high angel's name was Jill and the skinny, awkward girl with bad hair was me.

I met Jill that fateful first day of junior high. She was kind and welcoming and was to me, that day, like a huge piece of chocolate cake after months of being on a drab, low-calorie diet. Sweet and just what I needed to instantly feel better.

We became the best of friends and were inseparable throughout junior high and high school. She attended many of my crazy family parties, served as my wardrobe consultant for our frequent social outings, was a good sport always pretending to be shocked at her annual "surprise" birthday parties and I even brought her along on dates when my high school boyfriend was visiting from college. I admit, that one is weird. When Zach and I became engaged, my dad said something like, "And for all these years, I thought you were going to marry Jill."

Her birthday was this weekend and about 15 years later I am still delighted to call her my friend. She has a hilarious sense of humor, is a great mom, incredibly smart and a wonderful friend.

Happy birthday, Jilly Bean!

Enjoy this sampling of photos, most of which are taken during the infamous junior high days.

Maybe it's not half-full, but at least I didn't spill it

As days of the week go, Mondays are not my favorite. Consider that today Zach has a wicked fever, my beloved Ford Explorer is quickly taking a turn for the worse and it’s rainy and dreary, this Monday in particular is not the best way to start a new week.

However, I know I have it pretty easy compared to many people out there. So in the spirit of looking at my glass half-full, here’s a list of the things I’ll be happy to do this coming week:

- Spend time with Marcae and Katie

- Get to see Abby and have neighborhood game night, just like old times

- Paint our baseboards [Editor’s Note: I’m not excited or happy to do this, I’ll just be happy to get it over with. Glass half-full, remember?]

- Take my old clothes to DI—hello, extra closet space!

- Take my shoes to be re-heeled (How in the world am I so hard on them?)

- Be grateful that someone turned in my purse and ALL ITS CONTENTS—including my debit card, American Express, driver’s license, cash and prescription eyeglasses—to the security desk in WENDOVER when we were there this weekend to enjoy the fabulous comedic stylings of Bill Cosby. Thank you, honest citizen! I’m sending loads of good karma your way. And maybe a box of Jell-O.

- Hope that my flooded office is quickly repaired so that I can move back to my old digs and out of our glass-walled conference room. Sewer line breaks really get in the way of productivity. And privacy.

What remains of my water-damaged office. In need of sheet rock and new carpet.

To the Rosenvalls

Thank you, Kate, Marcae and Bryan.

For teaching us how to show unconditional love; To be a fighter; To be a supporter; To be a friend; To be a devoted parent; To be a devoted spouse; To look fabulous--even when in a hospital bed; To appreciate what we have, when we have it; To look on the bright side; and

To be a family.


You three amaze me, and everyone around you.

We will miss you, baby Kate.

I Told You So

Sorry for the blogging hiatus. I've been busier than usual although I feel like nothing exciting has happened. Don't believe me? Well, I will prove it to you with this post.

Since we saw each other last, I celebrated Valentine's Day and President's Day (which means a day off from work, woo hoo!); we have (read: Zach has) made significant progress on The Great Hardwood Floor Install of 2008, or as I prefer to call it, That Which May Cause Me to Turn to Drug and Alcohol Abuse; and things are crazy, crazy, crazy at work.

So, just to catch you up, Valentine's Day was a bit anti-climatic, since Zach worked that evening (I know, I know, you're soooo surprised). It was still a fun day, though, as I was able to surprise Z with a CD from one of his favorite bands and a DVD of one of his top, cheesy 1980's movies. He surprised me with an incredible, huge potted orchid that is seriously as big as our house. OK, not seriously. But close! ALMOST as big as our house. The pot itself is gorgeous and the orchids growing in it are so beautiful that I'm going to feel really bad when I accidentally kill them. Not that that's necessarily going to happen. It's just that it always does. My indoor-gardening skill is on par with my singing voice and my ability to play team sports. That bad.

I apologize for the crappiness of this photo, taken from my camera phone.
It doesn't do the flowers justice. A new camera would be much appreciated if anyone wants to buy me something and doesn't know what to get me.

The staff at the store where he bought these (which is one of my all-time favorite places on this earth) included a long list of instructions on exactly how I should go about not killing them. Hopefully I can make that happen. Or not happen? I'm so confused.

Last weekend was of the three-day variety, my favorite way to spend a Monday--not working! Diania and I were feeling ambitious and decided to head over to an early morning pilates class before we met up with Amanda and Natalie for brunch. The girls, two babies, my pilates-leggings and I met up at Eggs in the City for a fun-filled breakfast and way too much coffee.

Amanda & Diania's main squeezes
enjoying brunch with the girls
(Diania's Finn is on the left, Amanda's Patrick is on the right)

Nat, Finn and Amanda

D and me post-pilates. Don't we look extra lean and fit?

Then, Natalie and I went to the driving range where we amazed all in attendance with our incredible golfing skills.

This was a very active day for me and my body was not used to so much moving around. So I trekked home and took a nap for about 20 minutes. Actually, I closed my eyes while the dogs stared at me within inches of my face. Not the best way to catch some shut-eye.

Afterwards, Z came home and we took the dogs for a walk up to Trolley Square. While they waited outside because apparently Trolley Square is discriminating against its four-legged customers and does not let them in, I ran into American Apparel where I picked up one of the greatest inventions of all-time: thigh-high tube socks. Don't laugh, they are awesome. I am always freezing at night and must sleep in a pair of the ugliest, thickest socks I can find. However, my legs still freeze. It's probably all of that muscle.

Anyway, I can't sleep in pants because they always annoyingly slide up my legs. (I realize this is probably far too much information, but you see how boring my life is that I must tell you about my new sock purchase, so just feel sorry for me, OK? Don't judge.) So now I sleep in these and my life is complete!

[Editor's note: Keep in mind this is a "sexy" picture of aforementioned tube socks. These do not look like this on me, in fact they make all of my thigh fat squish out the top.]

Monday evening I headed over to book club with Teri where I had a fabulous time and learned all about the book that I was supposed to read but never even purchased. If you want to read--you really like the idea of it--but just can't make yourself crack open a cover, I highly recommend joining a book club. Now, if I'm at, say, a cocktail party (although I realize this is unlikely because who in Utah ever really throws a cocktail party?), and someone brings up "Water for Elephants" in a conversation, I feel fully confident that I will be able to discuss the themes of the book even though I didn't ever read it. Thank you, book club! Also, I was able to eat some yummy food, enjoy a delicious glass of wine and hang out with Teri and my fun book club girls. A win, win, win situation.

The rest of this week has been pretty boring. Work is super busy at the moment and Zach is almost done installing the hardwood floors in our bedroom. Which means we have the luxury of sleeping in our living room, on the couch's pull-out bed. Which means I am not getting any sleep but I am feeling very posh since I now have a fireplace and flat-panel TV in my "room."

I'm trying to look on the bright side.