Rain Puddle Strip Tease.

It rained today. And that means rain puddles. I know. You know. We're all aware of the puddles.  What you may be unaware of is how cool puddle jumping really is. It should be an extreme sport. And I should be the world champion. Cause I'd like to be. It'd just make me feel good.

I begged Neil to go puddle jumping with me. He declined. But since he knew I'd be lonely, and since I make puddle jumping look soo o o good, he stood far off to the side and took pictures.

I started with a full outfit. Sexy.

Mm mm. Would you look at those Keens? So sexy. I can hardly stand it.

Ok ok. Ya got me. Though comfortable, the Keens aren't sexy. So I took them off.

And then all of a sudden, it was like, if the shoes come off, everything else had to come off. Pop! Into thin air my clothes went. And I was left, momentarily suspended in the air, with my mothers swimsuit which she wore in the 80's. Since I desperately needed a new swimsuit, I made her mail it to me. And ever since I have patiently waited for the day when I could gallop around in my matronly, yet sexy, one piece. And today was that day.

Unfortunately however, I suspect the swimsuit's "shelf bra" probably gave out somewhere in the mid 90's. Which left my dangles...danglin'. Unsupportive swimsuits. Not sexy.

So if you know me very well, you know what my last/favorite resort was. 

Nude puddle jumping.

Ok ok. I lied. Though nude puddle jumping would be my favorite/last resort. We ACTUALLY took Neils last resort option.

And he only took pictures from the knees down. 

Crazy.

I was informed this week by my classmates that we had a book report due.

ON AN ENTIRE BOOK.

Cool. Backwards. But you get the point.

Or do you?

I hate reading. Reading is informative.

And I don't like being informed.

Especially when the book is about mental illness. And shares individual stories of people and how they went totally nuts thinking people where following them and the CIA was sending them secret messages. I had no idea this was like...a real thing. Like I said. Let me live naive. In this situation especially. Because now... I feel very unsure of myself.

Most examples in the book began their mental health battles in their early 20's. Which is not an uncommon age for schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, ect. to surface.

I'M IN MY EARLY 20's.

So:
Driving home from work last night, I'm pretty sure I saw a furry mountain goat in the road. Hallucination? Or maybe a government spy?

Last night I turned the lights off and went to climb into bed when I saw a tall skinny shape in my window. Curtains? Or maybe a government spy?

In the middle of the night I woke up to scratching. On our head board. I looked around but I couldn't see anyone scratching our head board. I'm now fairly certain it was a government spy. A mountain goat government spy that happens to be tall and skinny and have fingernails. Trying to send me a secret code that only I could understand.

I have to go finish reading my book now. But I'm scared to. Because there is probably a hidden code in there for me. That only I can understand. And then the safety of the world is going to rest in my hands.

Yo. This is the real deal. Not a face-in-holed, face-in-holed
picture of a mountain goat with fingernails following me.

This is a guest review of "The Lazy Lizard" in Moab, UT.

This weekend we went on a trip to Moab to do Granary Canyon. And Granary canyon we did. See here:

That's Bryan with me. Just making sure he doesn't fall to
the big boulders below.

All of us at the top while Daina repels.

Dakota modeling some water.

After we finished, everyone wanted a shower. So Neil suggested we sleep at a hostel for the night. Yay. I immediately did not want a shower.

Buuuut we ended up at the lazy lizard anyway.

And this is the part where I wanted to die. Kill me dead. Because if there's one thing that creeps the crap outta me, it's hotels. Add an extra "s" and it makes hoStels. And that little "s" makes life significantly worse. Panic attack mode. Go!

But being the tough girl I am, I took it like a man. And became roommates with Neil, Bryan and Dakota.

The gentleman at the front desk was very nice. He was definitely high. Very high. Fried. Sizzled. Gone-zo. Stoned. But very pleasant nonetheless. And informative. He informed us that we were not allowed to bring a sleepingbag or pillow inside. Due to bed bugs. Fantastic. He gave us the key to our room and up the stairs we went.

"Welcome to my dusty hell hostel."

The room was nicely decorated. Fantastic pictures. Great mood lighting. And thank goodness for the milk crates underneath our bed to hold us up. Also the bedding was clean and crisp...y.

Soft chairs.

Super great decor.

The hostel got even better with my shower. The women's shower was truly a delight.

Took me a second to find a spot on the shower
curtain that I could touch without getting
a handful of mildew. But I totally got it.

There were a variety of soaps and shampoos to choose from. All of which were empty. But don't fret. I got an amazing "rinse off". In my socks.

Soap selection. Left by previous tenants. 

A nice bathroom closet filled with all
the essentials.

My threadbare towel. But who cares when it
has all your favorite Space Jam characters on it.

When it was time for bed I pulled my hood over my head, and wrapped my body up as much as possible in order to prevent any skin from contacting the bedding. Ya know. To avoid bed bugs from transferring back and forth from sheets to skin.

I lay perfectly still. All night. Perfectly. Still.

Everyone slept great. Minus me. Maybe because I wasn't actually a man. The hostel knew I was a poser.

All in all, as far as ratings go, I'd give the Lazy Lizard 0 stars out of 5.

But I will give them 1 lizard.... in fact, I'll even give them 1 whole LAZY lizard rating.

Thanks Lazy Lizard.

That was an exquisite time.

Steve turbo crawls.

Went to Moab this weekend to do Granary Canyon.

We brought Kyle and Steve. Steve was super excited to be canyoneering for his first time. He bought all new gear.

Including:
ADVENTURE PANTS!!!!

So basically he was set to canyoneer. Am I right? Yes. Yes I'm right.

So we all put our adventure clothes on and climbed down into Granary Canyon.

And then we repelled down our first repel of the canyon.

And then Kyle jumped down from a 6 foot ledge.

And then Steve jumped down a 6 foot ledge.

And then Steve couldn't stand up.

Sooo.... we went back up the canyon. Which is really hard to do considering you're supposed to go down a canyon.

So Neil had to climb this lil spot which we had just repelled. And climb he did. Sexily too.

And then ascend we did. Sexily. To follow Neils example.

And then we strapped knee pads to Steve so he could turbo crawl. Notice how bummed Steve looks. And his sad little adventure pants. Also notice how pretty Neil's hair is.

And then Steve crawled like he'd never crawled before. But seriously. He's speedy.

Here we'll pause so you can notice what a cute couple Neil and I are. Steve crawling away in the background.

And now we'll get back to the crawling. And Neil tugging on Steve with a leash.

And Kyle butt pushing.

And all 3 of the boys doing a bit of this.

So 4 hours of crawling, a really good piggy back ride from Kyle, and an offer of ice cream on the ride home later... Steve got checked into the hospital.

And then 3 hours later, we learned he'd broken one ankle in 2 spots and sprained the other one. We couldn't fit the wheelchair in car unfortunately. But we COULD fit Lortab in the car. Which is what Steve enjoyed the whole way home.

The pills made him feel happy. And the ice cream he asked for made him feel happy. On the inside.

And seeing Steve happy made us happy. Trip success.

All about my moms neck.

My mother informed me today that she his taking a strong dose of medication in hopes of healing scar tissue in her throat. Ok.

I'm not really sure how she got scar tissue in her throat. But this is what she described is going on:

If this medication doesn't work, doctors will have to perform a tricky surgery to remove the scar tissue so she can do vital things. Like breath and stuff.

So basically, if this medicine doesn't work, my mom could have the following side effects:

A hole in her neck.

Darth Vadar throat noises.

Or complete removal of neck.

While all of these symptoms may seem scary or really cool (depending on who you are) my mom is getting really excited about the potential symptoms.

"NECK HOLE?! Sign me up!"

She informed me that she is going to take up smoking. Just so she can fit that cigarette in her little neck hole. Like all the other people do that have a neck hole.

We may or may not have made up or own side effects... And we may or may not specialize in morbidity... And my mother may or may not be a "badass".


Actually, yea. She's a badass.

A bad hair day.

I was having a bad hair day. It's true. And it's my fault because I had chosen not to shower my hair.

So when I went to get a new drivers license... and I had to get a new picture taken... I didn't expect it to look good.

But... when I really looked closely at the temporary license they printed out for me. I was kinda surprised.

Seriously the picture printed on
my drivers license.

I look like a man.

Always. Wash. Your. Hair.

How to lose at least 3 facebook friends a day.

This week I've still been a little upset over my name change. Johnson. Yea.

But then I realized how easy it is to make fun of others names.

They say a bully is someone that puts people down because they actually feel bad about themselves. 

And yea. I make fun of names. Because I feel bad about my common name. 

But by being a bully and undoubtedly pissing people off, suddenly, I didn't feel bad about my name anymore. 

Johnson? You're ok.