Oo-Rah!

It has been 11 days since my Grandpa John passed away. Some days I forget, but the flowers decorating my mom's kitchen table and living room remind me that it will be a long time before I see him again.

On the day of his funeral I had this song stuck in my head and felt, although from a children's movie, it expressed how I felt almost perfectly.

The day after his passing I woke up and thought, "this is the first day that I no longer have a grandpa."
No one to call me Lil Anna, regardless of how old I got, the way that only Grandpa John could. I guess with his 6 foot+ height I would always been smaller than him. He was a great man that always worked hard, and knew how to fix pretty much everything. I feel like the poem below, written by my uncle, says a lot about the man my grandpa was. He raised his kids to work hard. I know my mom has passed that on to me.

A tribute to my Dad as written by my uncle Steve

The boots on the porch were heavy and beat.
As a small boy I'd put 'em on - they were huge on my feet.

The miles and jobs those boots went through.
The blood, the sweat and the freezing too.

Those boots drove buses, semi's and worked in steel plants
The tops never got burned 'cause they were under his pants.

Up mountains, through rivers, chasing buck, catching fish.
Family camping in campers that were road worthy-ish.

Without hesitation, those boots went overseas
To fight for the country and be a Marine.

Those boots carried a big, big man
With a heart of gold, sledge hammer body, with huge calloused hands.

The boots on the porch were heavy and beat
And now I look down and those boots are on me.

I am part of a great legacy. I feel like I have a lot to live up to. When I get to the other side I feel that my grandpa will be waiting for a report what I have done with his name and legacy he left to me. I hope to live my life ready to help those that need it with whatever skills I have, just like grandpa. Continue to gain new skills so that I can help my family and those around me. No matter how long and full my days may be, come home and spend meaningful time with my family, like grandpa. Do better at working hard and making sure I teach my children to do the same, like grandpa. And finally,  make those around me feel like they matter to me, no matter who they are, just  like grandpa did to every single person he ever met.

I will miss my Grandpa John and his big grin. At his funeral there were many nice things said and great stories told about him. The Marines were there, Taps was played, I cried for the fallen Marine who readily served his country and all those around him. Oo-rah Grandpa.

 

Nostalgic Food

My nostalgic food is probably going to kill me one day because none of mine are healthy.

Here are my nostalgic foods:

 

 Whoppers! I love the sound they make as they roll around in the box and the fun little crunch in the middle of every chocolate ball. I could probably eat a whole carton (like the one pictured above) all by myself in one day. A confession, I just finished off a movie theater sized box that I opened about an hour and a half ago. Love these things.

 AbraCaBubble. I haven't been able to find these in years. Well I can purchase a 5lb. bag from the Brach's website but I don't really want that much. They are hard candy on the outside and inside is a piece of bubble gum. I would always get one from my grandma's house and try to have the bubble gum cracked out of its candy shell by the time that I arrived at my other grandma's house.

 Puffy Cheetos. I don't know what it is about these that make me love them so much. Whenever I had lunch at my grandma's house I would get a half sandwich and a small pile of puffy Cheetos laid on a paper towel along with a side of Pepsi or Coke (I think that is the only liquid my grandparents had in their house besides water and maybe milk). You be thinking that Pepsi is my next nostalgic food but it's not. Once in a while I like a few sips and those few sips remind me of grandma's but then I'm done with the soda.

Do you have any nostalgic foods?

Cubicle Pressure

About 2 months ago my work moved to a new building. I have a new Ikea "cubicle" (more like an Ikea desk with 24" partitions covered in cloth... not like any cubicle I have ever had). When I got hired I was told that the company would be moving. Therefore, I never decorated my desk. I never thought about it simply because I didn't want to take everything down and then put all back up. Well, 6 months later we finally moved. Now that we have moved I know I need to decorate my desk. However, I have been putting it off and putting it off. Why? Why would someone want to look at a speckled black, empty wall? Well I feel like there is a lot of pressure to have freakin' sweet looking decor for my cubicle. Why the pressure? Because I am a graphic designer, I can't have crappy looking stuff at my desk. That might reflect on the way that people view me as a designer. In addition to the pressure I feel that there is a lack of time. While I am at work there isn't much that I can do about it. I can't flip through pictures on my computer to find ones I want to print out. None of my pictures are on my work laptop. Once I am home...it is out of sight, out of mind. Really the story of my life. I'll get to work the next day and think, "BLAST! I should have thrown some things together. Ah MAN!"

I have hit a bit of a slow time at work so I finally looked through some pictures for ideas and organization ideas via Pinterest (cause that's basically the new Google for DIY, craftiness). I've found a cubicle idea that I like and I'm going with it. I just need to find a piece of paper that is the size of my wall and doodle up a cool drawing.

Well when I get around to getting it all put together I will take a pic and show you what my little brain and hands came up with. Don't hold your breath, it may take me a while because I have to brush up on my drawing skills.

Has anyone else experienced cubicle decor pressure?

Part of my World

I am a graphic designer, for those that don't know. Today while on some graphic design adventures on the web, I found this awesome history of printing, basically. If all history lessons were designed like this one I probably would have paid more attention. Maybe even science and math would have been more interesting to me.



Click image to open interactive version (via Printer Inks).



And if you are a big traveller take a look at this

It's Been A While

I survived my race. And it ended up being my best half marathon ever. Thanks for your prayers and karma. I also made a shirt that helped me during those times that I felt like stopping.

Karen Sue was basically my 2nd mom during what feels like most my life. I think it was a little over a year ago that she was told that she has ALS (or Lou Gehrig's disease). Basically when you have this your body shuts down little by little. One day they may wake up and suddenly have lost the use of an arm or hand. I feel that the influence she has had in my life and seeing her smile despite all that she is going through truly inspires me to do better with the time and, well, everything that I have. 

A general life update:

Work is currently crazy. I'm not allowed to work a single minute of overtime yet the last few weeks I feel have too much to do that it can't possibly get done in 40 hours. Some how I have managed. Well one week I did a lot of work at home, unpaid, then it turned out everything was wrong and I ended up doing it over again anyways, so lesson learned no more work at home, staying up til 2:30 in the morning only to find out it was pointless. I also feel that there is a communication problem at my work (and I'm really not one to talk since communication is on my weaknesses and I'm trying to do better). It gets really frustrating especially when it's the week before a big event and everyone has a billion and one things to do. If we could all read minds it would be easier but we don't and that's when it gets frustrating. 

Church. One thing you never would think would get hectic or stressful cause it's church. I've been proven otherwise. I am in charge of teaching a group of young women that are ages 16-18 (they are called Laurels). I teach every Sunday but the first one of the month. I've taught YW's (young women's) before but it was a once a month sort of deal. This every week feels crazy to me. I manage to get it done. I think I've gotten better since I started. And its good for me cause I am still learning things. I mean I know the basics, I've been taught them since I was born but now I have to really study, and make sure I truly understand so that I can answer any questions that they have. The girls I teach are really smart, I feel like they are smarter than I ever was at that age. It makes me wish that I had served a mission. The people (like my husband)that have served missions can throw together a good message/lesson within a matter of minutes. However they spent 18-24 months of studying the scriptures and I have never been all that great at really studying. Now I have that opportunity and it freaks me out. In addition to teaching and preparing each week I have also been asked to be on out activities committee for the ladies of my ward. Which so far isn't that stressful, I've only had to design and invitation which is... well that's what I do I'm a designer and I have printing connections so the other ladies think I am the greatest thing next to sliced bread. Okay that could be that one of them has been my neighbor for my whole life and she just loves me regardless of how comparable I am to bread of the sliced variety. 

Everything else. Well all else seems to be well. I've been watching Dr. Who with the husband and I'm addicted (I even added a Dr. Who shirt to my Amazon wish list). I've been trying to read more but between planning lessons, making dinner, exercising, playing water polo, and being addicted to Dr. Who (which is also time I spend with my hubby) I don't have much time. Usually I read when I'm in bed waiting to fall asleep and I only get about a page and half further into the story before my eyes start drooping. I have to set time aside to read and when I do I often feel guilty cause I know there are things of greater importance (like having clean underwear for tomorrow, etc.) that I should be doing. Being an adult and taking care of adult responsibilities really makes me wish that I were a kid again. But then I couldn't drive and be done with school. Being an adult has it's perks, I mean I get to have ice cream for dinner whenever I want. 

The Butterfiles are Starting to Flutter.

In 12 hours I will be at my friend's house and we will be heading to the start of our half marathon (after picking up 2 other running friends). You may be looking at your clock, mine says 2:49 pm on Friday June 14. Yes, I will be up at 2 AM getting ready for a race. My stomach is already getting antsy. Although I have done half marathons before, this one feels different. Why? Well I haven't been able to shake my shin splints. They will feel better then come back with a vengeance. I have contemplated not going to the race at all but part of me can't handle that thought of not even trying. I haven't done much running this week just to let my shins rest. Other than this week I have put in a lot of work, and consumed more ibuprofen then normal for me. I'm nervous my shins will rebel before I can finish the race. Also, I never get up at 2 am so I'm not sure how my body is going to handle that disruption in it's schedule. I'm worried and I felt like posting it here. In 12 hours I will be on my way, I will be pumped and thinking positive thoughts. I'll have my new race shirt I made (I'll post pics later). I'm pretty sure I'll be okay. But if you believe in God, say a prayer for me. If you believe in Karma send some good vibes my way, I can't seem to shake this nervousness.

Thanks.

Matchmaker, matchmaker

While at work, designing away, I frequently listen to my Pandora "Seventy-Six Trombones" station. On this particular occasion the song "Matchmaker", from Fiddler on the Roof, started playing. At the beginning of the song one of the sisters says something like, young people can't be expected to make such a decision on their own. I laughed aloud. I started thinking about my own life and making that decision on my own, as most young people do these days.

This thought process led to, what if there were still village matchmakers that helped your parents pick out who you were going to marry? I started thinking about the people that lived in the neighborhood where I grew up. I would probably be married to someone in that neighborhood.. or maybe a son of an old friend of one of my parents. Thinking about the boys in my neighborhood, I mean they were pretty cool, most of them. Some of them I had a hard time with for one reason or another but the general population of the neighborhood thought they were super great boys. Weird, weird thought.

On the one hand I would have been saved from some of the heartbreaking dating experiences I had but because of those experiences I feel that I am a stronger, better person. What kind of person would I be without those experiences? I don't know, I don't think I want to know....Well I kind of do. I wouldn't mind having a peek into an alternate universe where I had an arrange marriage, see what I was like. I would also like to take a peek into the alternate universe where Mitt Romney won the last Presidential election just to see where America would be now. Anyway. Just some food for thought from my mind today.

Happy Thursday everybody.