Feliz Navidad!

My institute teacher was quoted in the last post and here he will be quoted again. He said,
"'Feliz Navidad' is the worst Christmas song ever."

Yeah, he really said that. Can you believe it? Neither can I. I am pretty freaking sure that 'Feliz Navidad' is one of the best Christmas songs out there. Seriously. I mean, I know that it repeats itself like fifty times. But how else are you going to be prepared to wish a Spaniard a merry Christmas?

Yeah. That's right. You wouldn't be prepared. (unless, of course, you were fluent in espanol...but that is clearly beside the point).

So, whether or not you are a Spaniard, I am here you wish you un Feliz Navidad (aka: a merry Christmas).

(almost unrelated: I am adamant that the worst Christmas song is 'Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer.' Seriously. It sucks)

Anyway. Here you can share in a couple of my lovely Christmas-y festivities.

First to be reported is that the neighbor boys from Cedar (I've mentioned them several times) actually got a for real Christmas tree. Seeing as how my roommate Amanda and I are the only semblance of a stylish influence on them, we begged to help them decorate the tree. Of course, they said yes (I'm pretty good at getting my way over there). So we went to the dollar store and made Mike, Cale, and Ty purchase ornaments and a star. The tree was looking pretty good when we were done. Unfortunately, I don't have a decent, picture of the tree. But just trust me, it was beautiful.

But we couldn't let the boys get away with having such a gorgeously decorated tree in their house, knowing that we'd never get the credit. So I made Mike buy one tacky element.
And they were just that. Pure tackiness. Barf inducing really. But truly the best part of the tree.

The other festivity I'll feel you in on is the White Elephant Christmas Party our ward held. I'm pretty sure that White Elephants can only be awesome. I mean, seriously. We had some awesome gift out there. Our limit was one dollar. Some people gave coloring books, others gave a week supply of Top Ramen. One girl wrote out a check for $1.01. People got pretty creative. However, I am completely convinced that I got the best gift.

At first, I had no idea what it was. But then someone told me that it was a toilet seat cover. And thus our bathroom was remodeled into a wintery wonderland.
And the best part is when the lid is up...
Awesome!

It was made by the Grandma of a girl who lives across the street from me.
And that's the story of how I started my Christmas decorations.
And the story of how I discovered how to spend my time when I become a Grandma.

Anyway. I really hope that everyone has a muy fantastico y feliz Navidad!

In closing, I will share with you the Christmas song that is probably my favorite ever.
Enjoy!

Only a Little bit Late

I suppose I can't be blogging Christmas-y posts until I get the Thanksgiving post out of my system. And, I mean, not even Whitney has blogged about this yet (don't worry-I forgive). But I guess one of us has to do it. I'll take it on myself. So here you go. This is a lovely post about our trip to Kansas for the Thanksgiving break. I didn't take a ton of pictures. But I promise I'll only show the good ones.

Apparently, Georgia saw this picture and said,
"Grandpa!"
Can't you see the resemblance?

We got to go to Adam-Ondi-Ahman while were there.
It was super beautiful.
Like this picture doesn't give it justice...in my opinion.
We went on a really good post-thanksgiving-dinner walk.
This was at the Crown Center.
The day after Thanksgiving they have this huge ceremony to light up the tree.
Complete with lots of singing and boring speeches.
Not to worry-the fireworks made up for it.
Ezra really loved watching.
Can you blame him?
An awesome fountains with cool lights above it.
I know, so descriptive.
On the way back home (in the middle of our 19 hour and painfully long car ride)
we stopped in Colorado at
Little Man's Ice Cream.
They have the best ice cream I've ever tasted in my life.
And if you know me
you know that this is saying something.
P.S. I'm promise I'm not as fat as that coat makes me look

And, honestly, would this post even be worth it without
some pictures of my outrageously adorable nieces and nephew?
I don't think so.
For the record, I don't think I'll ever have children.
I don't think I can compete with Spencer and Whitney's freaking cute kids.
Really. I don't think my future husband (no matter how good looking he is going to be) and I have any hope.

And so that was the trip to Kansas for Thanksgiving. Since this doesn't fully explain our festivities, I'll give you one more story since my institute teacher told us that it's not really Thanksgiving without some holiday drama (Trust me, you'll want to stick around for this one).

Okay, so anyone who knows Isaac would understand that you can't always trust his dishes to leave you sober. So on Wednesday, as we were all in the kitchen throwing together as many baked goods as we could, we half jokingly asked Isaac how much alcohol he'd used so far.

"None," he replied. "I thought Kansas was a dry state."

Uh-huh. We definitely believed him on that one.

Later that night, when almost everyone had gone to bed, I went into the kitchen where a bowl full of mashed yams was sitting. I grabbed a drink (of water) as I watched Isaac slip out of the room he was staying in and back into the kitchen with a golden colored liquid in an innocent yellow IKEA cup. He poured the liquid into the yams and stirred it up.

My naive self thought: Hm. Apple cider flavored yams. That will be interesting.

Then my more sinful, SUU over BYU preferring self came out screaming: Oh my gosh, Kim! You're so dumb! That's alcohol! (mind you, I'm not fluent enough in the language of alcoholic beverages to know exactly what kind of alcohol it was.)

Now, like I said, Isaac's dishes have alcohol in them, but you usually can't taste it too much.

So the next day, as we sat down to eat, I wasn't too worried about it. And it turned out that Isaac had made 2 types of yams. The first one was pretty good. Almost your regular marshmallow cinnamon candied yams (with Isaac, it never is completely regular). But we all wanted to try the second one, one Isaac claimed was made with "Almond Extract." (Just so you guys know, I know what almond extract looks like, and that was definitely NOT almond extract...and who puts a full cup of almond extract in yams, or anything for that matter??)

And I will tell you, those "almond extract" yams burned the whole way down.

Heather described it as "inhaling hairspray."

It hurt.

Isaac swore (and still swears) there was no alcohol in the dish whatsoever.

Again. Uh-huh. We definitely believed him on that one.

But, for the record, the kids loved 'em.

Really. Couldn't get enough.

Counting...

Dear readers, the title is not referring to Christmas. It is actually referring to the fact that Kyle has been out on the mish for

A WHOLE ENTIRE YEAR!!!

Crazy, I know.

Kyle is pretty much my best friend considering the fact that he is basically my other half. We shared the womb together, after all. How much closer can you get?

I hope you all know Kyle, cause he really is the bomb. I mean, he makes some pretty lame-o jokes sometimes and he also has this really monotone voice when he just doesn't care about talking to people.

But he also is the funniest person I've ever seen on caffeine (1 mountain dew did him in...he was bouncing off walls...later he tried to explain that he was "just really excited" which is false. it was the caffeine).

And (as whitney and spencer know) he is highly entertaining when playing word games, like Boggle (he came up with the word "tam."
"Kyle," we told him, "Tam isn't a word."
"Yes it is," he insisted. "You know, like the color.").

And his knowledge is very widespread (before the 2008 elections, a couple of us were discussing the candidates. Kyle turned to me and said, "So Romney's the black one, right?").

As you can see, I love Kyle for fifty bazillion reasons and then some. I am so proud of him for serving the Lord. I am slightly jealous of Croatia for getting to keep him for two years, but I know that he is bringing about lots and lots of good (even if it is mainly through t-shirts, football, hiking, and lemon meringue pies).

Oh. And for the record: he writes me the longest letters.


See what I mean about us pretty much being the same person?

PHEW!

This is me.
Currently.

For the past week two weeks (anyone who's experienced college knows that the week before finals is hecka more stressful than the actual week of finals) I have been in hell (ah-hem...'scuse the language...but seriously. My stats friend and I decided that hell would be a never ending cycle of statistical problems and analyses).

And for some reason I had six finals this past week.

Six.

And facebook was completely killing me.

THEY SAID: One final down, two to go!
I THOUGHT: You only had three finals? Ya pansy!

THEY SAID: Finally finished with the finals! I'm ready for the break!
I THOUGHT: Curse you and your early partying! *while sobbing in the background*

THEY SAID: Yay! Last final is over!
I THOUGHT: mmhmmm. It's Thursday night and I still have two finals to go...

But after I cursed for a little while I thought of my other friends. You know, pretty much everyone else in the world who doesn't go to SUU. All those people have finals next week. And here I am being done. Completely done (okay, I'll stop rubbing it in). But, really, who am I to complain? I've got it pretty good, you know, being done and all...anyway...

So here's my shout out to all you guys who've still got finals to worry about.

I made it through.

You can too!

That rhymed and sounded reeeeaaaaalllly cheesy....but, I'm just spreading the love, right?
*picture is not my own...but I thought it was stinking cute so...this is another way of sharing the love? I don't know...but really...good luck!

Yes. Another Hike.

so...I'm outrageously busy this week and the coming week (thank you, finals...and all the teachers who believe that I only take one class a semester: theirs). I love writing to y'all (okay, so here's the thing-I always want to say y'all, cause it's so much quicker, but I feel like you have to be either a)Whitney or b)obviously southern to say y'all effectively...but I really just don't care so I'm gonna go ahead and say it) and I have a BUNCH to write about...but I'm thinking you're gonna have to be patient, seeing as how I have TONS the next two weeks and absolutely NOTHING the following four weeks. Check back in december and you'll be getting all sorts of posts about thanksgiving and family and random thoughts and ramblings of boredom. But until then, enjoy this post :)

If you didn't catch the drift, my family (myself included) LOVES to hike. We love it. I used to hate it. But thankfully I was converted to an all consuming passion of hiking.

And it has treated me well.

We go on some pretty awesome adventures. And this last trip to Robber's Roost was no different.

Robber's Roost is this awesome slot canyon that got its name from the fact that Butch Cassidy and his gang hid there. Cool, huh? Anyway. Unfortunately for you (but quite fortunate for me) there is no hilarity in the way of bee stings on this post. So I will just give you the pics and a short explanation. A'ight?

This is Mike. When I invited all the neighbor boys to come on the hike(there are 10 of them), plus my roomies (3), Mike was the only one to agree.
What wimps.
So it was just Mike and I in the car for a total of 10 hours.
I think it is fairly safe to say that he now knows most of my significant life details
(like the story of the a certain guitar ballad
and the fact that I basically always have to go to the bathroom).

This is my sister Heather. She is basically a model.
I mean, she is a model.
In this picture.

Some crazy awesome spidering that had to go down.
Otherwise, we would have died.
And people: There was some insane mud on this hike.
Spidering + mud= H-E-double hockey sticks!!!!
Also Known As: Hell
Trust me.

Cute! More spidering.
Oh, this is such a great shot of everyone's rear.
And see what I'm saying about the mud? On my camera. Curse.

Mason. So hot right now.
But really. He's like a monkey. Pretty much.

This is my family.
Our mom says we're special.
Ha ha. Okay...she didn't really say that. But I'm sure she thinks it.
Except Heather. She looks pretty normal.

Sister picture!
For cute!

Cousin picture!
Haven't you met cousin Matt Park and cousin Tanner?
.......
Really? Tsk tsk. That's a shame.

More mud.
On me.

This was our lunch break.
Bring on the beef log
(just FYI: that's the Nott's term. I think it sounds gross.
REAL hikers say summer sausage).

We are so good at teamwork!

Okay, sorry this was kind of all over. But really, I ought to be studying right now. Good thing I love y'all so much that I was willing to throw this up here so you could start the conversion process right away.

Remember, folks: hiking=good.

Like true love good.

P.S. update from last post: I am still thoroughly digging my boots. Thanks for asking.

Tsk. Tsk.

I have officially become a terrible person.

Actually, I am kind of in the middle. Half of me thinks that I am truly awful.

The other half could care less.

And so, here I am in this torn state, unsure of what I am and what is to become of me. Let me explain.

Ever since I was 14 my parents forced encouraged me to buy my own stuff.

Clothes
Shoes
Accessories
etc.
(pretty much everything I wanted
minus food and toothpaste,
you know, the basics).

Which I think is actually a pretty good idea. I appreciated my stuff a lot more than if my parents were forking out everything to me. I'm really grateful they did this.

And for the past 6 years (since this work-and-pay-for-it-yourself dealio started) I have been doing a freaking good job. If I do say so myself. I mean,

• I've kept a steady job since I turned 16.
• I studied my face off to get a good scholarship for school.
• I've shopped all the sales and bargains and thrift shops (although, this is more about me loving the outrageously awesome deal I'm getting...)
• I mooched lots of food and toilet paper off my parents whenever I returned from school for a weekend.
• I lovingly take and use hand-me-downs.

Really. I do a good job. And, currently, I'm doing pretty okay in the financial department (let's just not consider how much grad school will cost...).

My frugality is working out for me so far.

Except that a month or two ago I saw these boots.

And I really wanted them.

I tried to stifle my desire to have them. Really. I tried hard (you know, minus searching the internet for them more than a handful of times to gaze at their beauty).

One side of me was saying:
"You don't really need those."
"What if you want to spend that money elsewhere."
"HA. forty bucks? I'm waaay too cheap for that."
"Material wants. Material wants."
"This will make you happy for a day...but will it make you joyous for a lifetime?" (okay, I didn't really think that one...my thoughts aren't that righteous)

But the other side was thinking:
"Oooooh...so cute."

And, somehow, the other side won. So. I bought the boots. Technically, they were only $39.95. I didn't even have to pay for shipping and handling.

And while a fraction of me is still thinking the money could have/ should have gone somewhere a lot more useful, the other part has already fallen madly in love.

Just don't tell my dad. He'd be terribly disappointed.

Hiking Adventures in Cedar

I'm pretty sure I am such a slacker. This post should have been up here a month ago. But, alas, I am a college student...taking 18 credits, working 12-15 hours a week, volunteering some, and maintaining a healthy social life...thus, I hardly have time to blog. But this adventure really was pretty epic and I figure it's better late than never, yes?

Here's the story:

SUU used to have this lovely thing called a Fall Break. We would get a weekend off-usually Thursday and Friday-during October (yes, this break is specifically for all the hicks here in Southern Utah who count down the days before the deer hunt begins). That Fall Break is a much needed hiatus in the mass of drudgingly long and painful school days between Labor Day and Thanksgiving. However, SUU decided to hate us this year and take away our Fall Break.

Lame. Lame. Lame.

However (and this is a big however), my family is pure awesomeness. They figured that since I couldn't come to them, they would come to me. I know! They really do love me! They came on a Thursday and picked me right up from class to go eat at this Thai restaurant in town (yeah...I got a spiciness level of 4 out of 10 and I thought I was going to die-snot and tears were flowing, I tell you). I had to go to work after that, but I joined them that night for delish dutch oven. The next day, after I got out of my classes, we hiked Cascade Falls. It was super beautiful and fun (forgot the camera...sorry). More incredible dutch oven for dinner. Plus friends and family. It was so good.

Our Saturday hike was the truly epic part, so that's where I'll spend most of my time. We hiked Rattlesnake Creek/Ashdown Gorge, totaling around 11 miles. The hike was so pretty. I loved it.

Before I present the pictures I'll tell you the story of the hike. Trust me, you'll want to read this one:

I can't say it enough, the hike was really just breathtakingly gorgeous. My family usually hikes in the red rock area. And this one had red rock but it was mostly mountainous terrain (oh man, I sound so earth-y right now!). So we were about three miles into the hike when we crossed through a field and started descending the mountain through this woodsy-ish area. The trail was fairly narrow so we were going single file. I was second in line, with about7 or 8 people directly behind me.

Right before the trail made a sharp turn to the right, I glanced down at my feet and noticed a few bees swarming around a quarter sized hole opening in the dirt. Honestly, I should have said something. But, seriously, doesn't everybody hone in on potentially dangerous things no matter how obscure they might be??

Apparently not because a few steps down the trail my friend Mike started stringing together some Mormon swears.

"Dang it! Fetch! I just got freaking stung by a bee! Crap!" (yeah, I haven't heard "fetch" since 2002 either...but he said it).

Heather immediately assumed that Mike was lying. "Whatever," she insisted. I couldn't tell either way so I just kept on hiking. That is, until Heather started with the screaming. She ripped off her backpack and threw it at Mike. Then she started tearing at her clothes.

It was then that we all realized we had a swarm of bees after us. So we started sprinting down the trail, praying that we were somehow faster than our attackers. After running for a little bit, I stopped to make sure Heather was okay. Cause that's the kind of awesome sister that I am. But as we were looking at her back and Mike's knee (where they had been stung), I felt this forceful, stinging prick.

Right. On. My. Butt.

I don't think I've screamed as loud or danced as vigorously as I did then. My arms were flailing everywhere while I screamed and shouted at the top of my lungs. After calming down, I got the intruder out of the lining of my shorts. My lovely mother checked my behind for the stinger, but found nothing. It just hurt. A lot.

Luckily, Mike, Heather and I were the only ones to get stung. But we had to hike the remaining 8 miles of the hike with our stings pulsating with pain. And, because of the location of my sting, I was able to endure plenty of teasing about my rear end. Here's one of my favorites:

Pa: This trail is getting pretty narrow.
Me: Yeah. Good thing none of us are really fat.
Mike: Well, except for your left cheek.
Me: Oh my gosh. I hate you, Mike.
Pa: Kim, just turn the other cheek.

Despite the fact that they were referring to my butt, it was pretty funny. Anyway. On to the pictures!

This was at the first of the hike. The view was spectacular.

This is my roommate Amanda. I love her.
And also, this is my brother Eric. I love him too.
Eric, in true Eric-fashion, called Amanda "Amber"
or "Amy"
or "Ashley"
the entire hike.
I'm pretty sure he just wanted to get some.
He's pretty skillful at that.
Obviously.
I think it's true love.

See the old man in the rock?
I am totally kissing him...well, his chin.
You get the point.
Clearly, I'm very skilled at getting some as well.

This is my Cedar City family. Well, like a quarter of them
(the other ones are wimpy and wouldn't have made it on the hike).
But these ones are pretty rockin'. I love them.

These are members of my real family. I love them even more.
They are so incredibly awesome.

Sigh.

Family is the best.

And I get to see them this weekend too.
And it will probably take me a month to write about that trip as well.
Oh well.
Good story, right?