Giving Up Explained

When I have something big to blog about, I have a tendency to hold off on updating my blog for a while because I wish I could update chronologically, fully, as things are happening.  I want to update with pictures and witty or thoughtful commentary.  Then I get back-logged and then don't want to post new items out of order.

This season's big news?



Oh, and my fingeres are red now...

Uhh what?

I'm freaking engaged, that's what.  

I met this boy and I love him and we're getting married.  Two months from yesterday.

Now I can post about all the goings-on with some context.

Soundtrack: C'est la Mort by The Civil Wars

This song was recommended to me by YouTube yesterday and I've probably listened to it over 50 times in the last 24 hours.  It's got that desperation of Phantom of the Opera's 'All I Ask Of You' and the sweet sentimental of 'Grow Old with You' from The Wedding Singer.  But it's got these haunting vocals, killer harmonies, and a message that sinks in so deep that I got light-headed the first 15 times on repeat. 

Whatever happens, wherever you go, in life and in death, don't go without me.

Giving up

I probably could have/should have/ would have posted this a while ago, but I'm a stubborn girl who hates to admit defeat. 



Let's just say losing isn't always a bad thing.

Hot Springs



Not looking forward to this



I really do loathe the cold.

I feel like that has to be a disclaimer to really appreciate how lovely it was to trek up to the Goldmyer Hot Springs yesterday.  I pretty much live in constant fear of potential cold and do my darnedest to prevent any from affecting my little body, so getting me out the door in the first place was a bit of a sell.

Once we got going, though, I realized that 1)  the trail riding form of mountain biking is WAY more fun and way LESS terrifying than downhill, slick-rock, and big jump mountain biking 2) there's a great sound I never knew of a bike tire slicing through the frozen layer on top of mud puddles, and 3) it is possible to continue on even as frostbite seems to be setting in to fingers and toes.



I've Arrived!



Four miles up a not too steep incline, the snow had gone from patchy to present and a little crispy on top.  We parked our bikes, checked in with the couple WHOSE JOB IT IS to man the electricity and real world access-free cabin at the Springs.  Lucky me, there was only one nakie in the hot springs (oh what, didn't I tell you it was clothing optional?) and I'm rill good at averting my eyes when man parts are sloshing about.

Goldmyer has three levels of hot pouring from the springs.  Super duper hot in the cave; hot tub hot just outside, bathtub hot just below.  I dabbled in hot tub, luxuriated in the cave.  Bathtub in the wilderness in the middle of November is a bad idea I would never consider.



On our way out, toasty on the inside and full on roast pork and PB&J Luna Bars (Porter knows how to pack a lunch), we passed a group of 12 backpackers headed up to the springs.  I'm just hoping they weren't thinking clothing optional. 



"12 naked backpackers in an enclosed bath tub!"



You win this time, Bratten.

First World Problems

Sometimes I go about hating on life and the little inconveniences that feel like they are destroying peace and ripping to shreds any semblance of joy and happiness.  Then one of the lyrics to this high school kid's homework assignment rap song pop into my head and I kick myself for my lack of perspective.  It doesn't matter that I missed my exit; it's not the end of the world that my socks are a bit rough even though I used fabric softener; that person eating with their mouth open or blowing their nose super loud doesn't actually affect me at all.

I've got some first world problems!

Going curly

Is it so much to ask for curls?  You know, the scrunch and dry style, footloose and fancy free, automatic body and charm waves.  Like Rachel McAdams has.  And Charlize Theron. And Keri Russell.  The list goes on.  People who know how to do their hair.

Call it a grass is greener syndrome, but my stick straight, won't hold a curl for more than 10 minutes without a bottle of Aquanet hair just doesn't fulfill my need for volume and personality.  I can only tease so much, you know!  I want to be able to get out of the shower, load up on whatever product is necessary and not worry about rain or sweat or humidity bringing me back to flat.

So last week I tried pin curls, which I haven't tried since Elementary school and, despite a very L'Oreal moment right when the pins came out, I think I could make this work. 

Pin-up girl

"Because I'm worth it!"

Getting wavy

If not there's always a perm. Not a corkscrew 'fro, a wavy perm. (Though if I'm totally honest, I still frequently look at my mom's kick-awesome perm from the early 90's and know that someday I will go there. Andlove it.)

Classy Knudsons



Isn't my mom a BABE?!

"And be not faithless, but believing."

I wonder how Thomas felt after he confirmed for himself that Christ had, in fact, returned.  Ashamed at his lack of faith?  Exultant at the presence of the Lord?

Several months back, I had a crisis of faith where I felt that I knew that God wanted me to be a temple worker and I just plain and simple didn't want to.  Call it lazy, selfish, or poor in spirit, I just plain didn't want to commit to six hours a week.  Every week.

But I did!  And I'm so glad I did. I'm the youngest on my shift by probably 30 years, so I'm like a pet to most of the little old ladies who have been doing this for years. My Tuesdays are now really long and sometimes require me to shimmy into a skirt or end a conference call in the temple parking lot, but it is amazing to feel the very real shift from working in the world and working in the house of the Lord.  I haven't seen or felt any miracles yet.  I don't feel like I've evaded guilt.  I just feel... good. 

Bumbershooting Ray

Beard bands are apparently all the rage in today's hip music scene.  Not always my jam, personally, but I stumbled onto Ray LaMontagne in something like February and haven't been able to live without his smoothly raspy voice since.  I love almost every song (which is unusual due to my music ADD). The guy used to work at a shoe factory and one day heard some song that gave him the crazy idea to become a musician. Not long later, he was at the Key Arena mainstage at Bumbershoot crooning to my heart in person.  Seriously, who is this guy?

I just love him. I love his lyrics.  I love his presence.  I love his way with guitar.  I even love his beard.

Here's a few of my favorites:

            
Seriously, how great is that beard.

King County Budget Madness

	Just finished a ravishing 2.5 minute appeal to the King County Budget committee asking them to streamline budget requests for human service organizations. This is where our communities' movers and shakers can be found. If you're mad at Wall Street, President Obama, or the local parks because now they charge for parking, this is where you can have an impact. You gotta, you oughta, you betta show your face where decisions are being made.

Fall Felicity

Fall is here. Last year, I was surprised/confused/angry/devastated/immobilized at the cold, wet, dark.  This year, I'm prepared.  I am actively going out and doing, even when it looks like midnight at 6 pm.  And, for the times that I just can't, I've reactivated my Netflix account for some quality inside time [I'd deactivated it months ago because it was sunny outside and I couldn't justify screen time].  My inaugural watch was Episode 2 of the seriously awesome and at least for the first few episodes, very uncomfortable college drama, Felicity [I still remember that part where the whole dorm hears her tape about her feelings for Ben and it was like preparing for a scary scene in a horror movie waiting for the moment of pure awkwardness in episode 3].  I was prompted to find the Pilot the night before Netflix could get their act together and my account recharged, so I had to watch it on one of those Asian pirated video sites, see below (loving this anime cartoons and Chinese character translations. It's a great frame to Keri Russell's oh so out of control and amazing hair).

Episodes 2 and 3 reminded me of two things: One, how quickly new Freshmen make best friends. Brooke and I decided, two weeks into being blindly matched as freshman roommates that we were best friends, and have remained close since.  Many of my best friends from college I met my freshman year.  There's something about everyone starting brand new that the slots for good friends aren't filled yet.  Felicity also met all the stars of the show in the first few episodes (except the coffee shop guy, who I'm excited to meet later this fall).


Secondly, how about these turtlenecks, eh?  What says fall better than heavy cable knits?

In honor if Fall, Felicity and her many, many sweaters, I pulled my one cable knit mock turtleneck sweater out and finished episode 4. People (and by people, I mean I) just don't wear these enough.

Good hair and good company

Great news: I'm not hating my hair today.  I don't most days, really, but there are enough times I just have no control over greasiness, part, or ends curling in or out or curling at all that I can't claim to love love love it all the time.  But today is a good hair day.

Also to report: I successfully drove to Utah straight through the night, gallivanted with some seriously spectacular friends and newborns, attended General Conference, and drove on back last night without dying, all with this guy:

I love me some sunshine, Fall leaves, healthy nostalgia, and a dreamboat to take it all in with.

Happy October!