I have exams in a week. I am testing in the next week before the final exams. I am so tired. I'm not going to be around for a while, but you know I'll miss you terribly.

Really, it's not you it's me.

Work a runway........check.

Nail my Anatomy Exam.......working on that.....

Get the Helmet

Lets start off with the obvious

............

I should have to wear some type of head protection at all time.

Today, brought that a little closer to home.

I am terrible with numbers. Combinations? I'm totally lost. Doesn't even matter how long I've had the lock for. Knowing this, I keep numbers written down....say in my book bag. So today when I went to the pool, I grabbed my number list, got changed, locked up, and hit the water.

When I got out of the pool, starving, shaky, soaking.....I stood in front of the locker.

Son of a........

My list is in my backpack. In the locker. I throw a couple of number combinations out with no luck. Where is my towel? Damn it it's in the locker too. Holy crap I'm hungry. I can't think let alone spit out numbers.

So I run. Upstairs. In my swimsuit. With my cap on. Goggles still on top. Through the weight room.

Hello, hi, how are ya, gunna finish that power bar?

So now I'm standing at the counter, shaking, doing a little hopping dance to try and keep blood moving as some poor girl is unlocking an office somewhere looking for a code. I realize when they talk to me that I have an insane amount of water in my ears. So I step back, and shake my head. Nothing. So I whip my head as hard as I can.....

and crack in right onto the counter.

Oh starry sweet Jesus.

I snap my combo from the girl as she walked out mouth open, eyes huge. Clutching the side of my head, still starving, still shaking, still soaking wet.

Helmet.

Sigh.....

Looking for a home.

Not me, Otto.

Not the guy........The picture. The framed picture.


I can't show you Otto in fear that no one will want him, or you'll see him and laugh so hard that everyone will want him. I'm going to be setting up a website for Ottos travels.....you don't keep Otto very long. He's kind of like the traveling gnome. Usually snuck into the back of a car, you don't realize you got him till it's too late to turn back. At least that's how I got him. Otto helps you accomplish your goals.....so when my last final is completed in 4 weeks 3 days....Otto will move on to inspire someone.

On the back it says 'Pass it on' and then you sign your name and city, and do just that.

Otto has had his run in Junction....soon it will be time to pass him on. I thought of giving him as a wedding present (cough cough Phil) but I feared that they would feel obligated to keep him forever. And that's just not Otto. Otto is a free spirit. Otto can not be caged by the walls of society.

So I want some takers. Otto is not offensive and does not contain any inappropriate material. Otto is a motivational image.

Come on out of the woodwork, you closet reader you. I don't care if I don't know you. Or if I do know you and you need him, get on in this. Tell me WHY you need Otto and I promise he will be passed on next month. Just your name. I don't need an address yet.

Otto must be free.

I'm to sexy for my....

Ok. I have a secret to admit, only because I'm about to be publicly outed. Ya see....

I have a list of things to do before I die.

One of those things on the list is to work a runway.

Now did I really put this on the list so when I die Tiffany has to stand at my funeral and read whats left on the list..... hit a Play button on a boom box and watch the ushers swing my casket down the church isle in last laugh for us all?

I'm..... to sexy for my shirt.....to sexy for my..........

Maybe.

Is it really a pushed down fantasy of the hippy bus driving feminist?

Maybe.

Either way, I got asked to model at a fundraiser. Totally local. Totally fun. My friend Ivy owns Pollux Boutique downtown, and today was my fitting. I seriously giggled the entire time, then demanded water with a lime/lemon hybrid fruit wedge, snorted a plate of cocaine, ordered 82 red jelly beans, ate one only to throw it up 3 minutes later, then I smashed a mirror and stormed out.

Well if I'm going to do it I have to do it right.

In family heritage stealing, I am 1/16 Asian. Since my sister Tiffany is ALMOST Asian (her favorite Asian will testify), and my BFF Molly is Asian, I claim 1/16 Asian. Don't worry, 85.5% of me is still strong black woman, and the 2% white girl is still trying to control everything.

Lets see how the 2% white girl holds up when they toss a majority black woman in an Asian dress, 6 inch heels and tell her to work a catwalk.

Easter.

It's my favorite.

Coloring eggs and eating chocolate all day......

Its a chocoholic art majors day of peeps bunny worship.

When we were kids there was an all out-no holds bared- Easter egg hunt. Grandma must have boiled 6 dozen eggs for us to dye, hide, crack, and then watch her wash the dirt off of and make egg salad from. It took me a long time to be able to eat egg salad or deviled eggs that holiday knowing that a few of those eggs were in the street gutter. But that woman did not waste ANYTHING.

There was another Easter egg hunt at the nursing home where my grandma Mary was a nurse later that day. My older brother Ryan, (the Law Dog) would run around and only pick up the plastic eggs with money.

Grab. Shake. No money? Toss behind him and keep running.

Lawyers.

Back to the house egg hunt. My uncle Tony (who at the time was the unmarried swinging bachelor) would come in and pick a certain color of egg that all of the kids had been hand dying that morning on the poker table with spoons. Uncle Tony was the BEST EASTER EGG HIDER EVER!! Finding his token egg color was a coveted honor. He was so good at it, I remember Grandpa Bus (really his name) shaking his cut off stumped pointer finger at us one year.....

"You kids better find them all this year....I ran over an egg with the mower 2 months ago from last year."

I bet it was Tiffany who leaned into me and whispered...

'I bet grandma somehow used that egg.'

3 hour tour

At around three yesterday, Margie, Chad and I decided to go for 'a nice hike' to shake off our clinical presentations from that morning. Chad suggested Bangs Canyon (which I tried to find a GPS map of so you could see it, but never did find). This seemingly worked out perfectly because it is still close to home, has water, and shade. The puppers like that combo.

Looking back it was totally Margie and I that

almost had us on an episode of survivor.

After 30 minutes into the canyon Chad talked of turning back. It was Margie and I that hadn't broken a sweat yet and pushed to keep going. The water was higher then usual, and because of that......we lost the trail.....a lot after that. The hike became a rock climbing expedition through the canyon. I was good until I watched my mountain goat dog slide down a rock face we were climbing. This is where we hit the 'no turning back, lets hope we're on a loop' point. Margie and I were picking up our dogs and passing them to lower rocks. Right about then, Chad says 'Did anybody else see on the news where search and rescue had to climb in here and get a guy out?'

Ummmm.

Looking back we were all delirious. It was like being on an insane Satan stair master for 3 hours while intermediately bench pressing a wet wiggly dog.

A power bar thats been in my camelback for god knows how long kept Margie from having to feast on wildlife.

It was agreed that if one fell, the others got to do the x-rays.

It wasn't looking so good for me.

This is Margie and Chad looking for the trail.

The views and vegetation were fantastic though.


Obviously, we made it out. After 3 1/2 hours we came out of the canyon onto a Jeep 4x4 road that of course we had to hike straight up to return to civilization. You would have thought the three of us had been in a POW camp the way we were talking. My jello legs miraculously kept going.....

when I get out of here....I'm going to have a burger and fries and a really cold beer.
I considered at this point going Goonies style down this waterfall into the water.



I was completely late for a coaches meeting where I was a representative for our school. Yea, who thought up THAT bright idea?
I came in the door smelling like wet dog, wobbly legged and willing to eat anything that I didn't have to chase.

'Thanks for entrusting me with your children"

Who knew that someone would actually name all of the little bumps inside the base of your skull? Honestly, I think I can feel one of them pulsating right now.

Ok, since my desperate housewife is unreachable, I suppose I'll tell my blind date story to you, and then you can go tell her. While your at it tell her to blog something. Anything.

Ok, so my date was a set up by my coach friend Michelle and her husband. We met up at their BBQ...I was in my casual jeans and a tshirt.....He arrived in a pressed button down white oxford, pin strip suit pants, and shiny black shoes. Wow. On a Saturday BBQ. I see the investment banker.

That's ok. I can totally look past that. I'll just think...young sucessfull stock broker..

The part I couldn't look past is when he handed me a framed back and white picture from Michelle's mantle. I look down at a very sweet professionally done photo of she and her husband holding the firecracker 2 year old who was obviously medicated for this picture.

In that second the firecracker ran high pitch screaming between us. I look up thinking .... I never knew my ears could hear that pitch.... looking around to see if Teva is in convulsions somewhere in the corner.... He reaches out taking the picture back and says:

'I am so jealous. This picture is exactly what I want.'

I'm sure I stood there for a good 30 seconds with my jaw (mandible) wide open before i finally could make a sound. I squeeked out

'I need to find my wine'

THAT kiddos is the moment I started planning my escape.

Please don't get me wrong. I adore kids. I'm sure one day I'll have a few that live in my house. But seriously. Tell me on a first date that you want a wife and kid and a black and white photograph on the mantle, and you can set the stopwatch on my rubber burning exit.

I am rather enjoying the 'hub' of GJ. Smack dab in the middle of the dessert, its a great stopping point on the way to wherever it is your going. Keva and Jake were on there way to Utah, and stopped in for a night at the hobbit house. I only say that bc Jake is 6'7 and my ceilings arch.

Poor Guy could barely walk in here.

20 Minutes of them following me around Fruita, I finally hit 18 Road and they got some bike time in before they had to hit the road.

Then at 5 I had a blind date. My first blind date ever. He wasn't really blind. I was ready for blindness.....or at least an eye patch. He had neither. Two perfectly fine eyes.

*sigh*