it's nothing special....it's just kriss

Lately I've been having some pretty crazy dreams. Last night I dreamt that I was on vacation with the family.  There are only two things that I remember in vivid detail: 1- We went to this huge shopping mall and kept stopping to buy and eat food. And my mom was totally obsessed with eating ice cream. She kept stopping at every ice cream stand to buy some. Pretty sure I have no idea what my subconscious was telling me with this one! 2 - It was Sunday. And it was Fast Sunday - but somehow I didn't know it was Sunday, or Fast Sunday, until half way through our shopping and ice cream eating spree. And I was MORTIFIED. Quotes from General Authorities about keeping The Sabbath Day holy kept running through my mind. I told the fam and they were all like, 'Oh yeah. Oops.' and kept eating their ice cream. I seriously had a full-on panic attack in my dream. I didn't know what to do. I was sure it was the end of my life and my eternal salvation. Thankfully I woke up. And ev

It seems fitting that my next post...following the last post about Thanksgiving....should rightly belong to the holiday I tried to defend. I feel a little overwhelmed thinking about everything I am grateful for. So - I narrowed it down to three - but please realize that these three categories encapsulate my entire life...and that's a lot. So they might be really fat - although not nearly as fat as if I tried to honestly include everything (and everyone) in them. Just warning you. First, I am grateful for people. I am grateful for people who make life bearable - the people who randomly smile when you're feeling down, or the people who turn around in line and start a happy little convo with you while you're waiting to check out, or the people who are really good at their jobs and rarely get noticed but make my job and my life so much easier. I am grateful for the people who don't know that I noticed them - the mother who tenderly consoled her crying child instead of get

A lot of friends have been talking about how much they hate Christmas creeping into (or completely taking over) November. So I started thinking about the issue - because apparently it's a big one and obviously something I should be thinking about, right? I think Thanksgiving suffers from severe middle-child syndrome. Halloween comes first and is a little bit crazy but well recognized, highly celebrated and ridiculously loved. Then there's Christmas, the ever impatient youngest child who can't wait their turn...ever. Plus Christmas is the 'favorite' child - it's loved, celebrated, commercialized, overpriced and way over represented. And Thanksgiving just sits back and gets run over by these two crazy holidays on either side of it. It never complains when people forget it or when international businesses schedule important meetings that day (ugh...speaking from experience on that). Thanksgiving doesn't mind giving the lime light to the other two. Why? Becaus

On my right is my boss - blasting classical Christmas music. On my left is my co-worker - blasting oldies in an effort to drown out the classical Christmas music. Then there's me - plugged into Pandora, listening to Adele "Someone Like You". And not only is the music blasting - but randomly, my co-worker starts singing along to her oldies station so my boss starts humming Christmas tunes really loudly. I sorta feel obligated to unplug my iPod and start singing out loud too. Too bad our other co-worker isn't here to blast and sing along to her Spanish tunes. That would be the icing on the cake.

Saturday I went to a bridal shower with my Mom. On the way, I needed a potty stop so she asked me if I wanted her to stop at Monk-donalds so I could go to the bathroom. I think we've been watching too many back-to-back episodes of Monk lately. What do you think? Then, out of nowhere she waved at some random people on the side of the road. So, I asked her, 'Do you even know them?' To which she responded, 'It's the MISSIONARIES! Those are the people that wear nametags and black suits. Have you been home from your mission so long that you don't even recognize what missionaries look like anymore?!' Maybe I have been home that long! Anyway, I love my Mom! She always keeps me laughing!