Month of Thankfulness

The last day of November is prompting me to be thankful, being this is the month of thanks and all.

I'm thankful to be blessed enough to build a house. What a grown up accomplishment.

I'm thankful for clean dishes.

I'm thankful that Mike is a sports fan, so I don't have to pick the teams, I just pick his. Go Thunder?

I'm thankful for only a 3% tax on food in Utah.

I'm thankful for Christmas lights/trees/candles.

I'm thankful for the $15 worth of JCPenney gift certificates that I won.

I'm thankful that after 19 years, my parents finally finished their basement. And oh, was it worth the wait. Gorgeous.

I'm thankful for teapots.

I'm thankful for my commute that gives me time to read the scriptures.

I'm thankful for my four beautiful sisters.
I'm not thankful that two {TWO!} of them are moving out of state at the end of December.
But I am thankful that they are following their dreams!

I'm thankful for the suddenly rare desire to blog. Documenting my really busy, boring life is so unappealing...except when its not.

I'm thankful for The Family Stone. Let's just vote Ben off the island.

I'm thankful for this scene at Thanksgiving.

I hope everyone had a great month of thankfulness. On to the next.



It's weird. Being back in Utah. Which is weird. Because I spent my whole life here until 2009. And then we moved on. And we built a life. Far away from everything and everyone we knew and loved. And it was hard. We had our downs. But then things went up. And kept going up. And I had an awesome job, and the perfect house and great friends. And we all know, that just when things start to get good. They change. And we moved. Spent 3 months in Washington D.C. Which was just a really long, humid vacation for me.

Now we are in Utah. We've been back for 3 months, and it's weird. Things are slowly getting normal again. But things are still out of sorts. My gym attendance is spotty and making dinner has become less frequent. It's November 18th and my Christmas tree isn't even up. This is so not me. All I know, is I get up and go to work every day. And then I come home. Most of the time feeling highly unaccomplished.

Is it weird that I was alone in the elevator the other day at work and thought...Please get stuck, please get stuck, please get stuck. Just for a few hours. How awkward of a thought to have. Mike says I'm weird. But sometimes being stuck in an elevator alone for a little while is better than the real life monotony waiting for you when you get off.

Looking for a home has made things just crazy. You never know from day to day when you will be spending your evenings walking through homes that "have potential". Homes come on the market and then disappear just as quickly. Most end up going to investors. Everything is a short sale. And its just plain hard.

So yesterday, we decided to build.
We signed some paperwork, handed over some money and tomorrow we get the final okay from the builder.

So many thoughts continue to go through my head as we have made this decision. But all I know is, when I woke up this morning, I still felt good about it.

How do you know when you finally found the place that you want to live? How do you know when you have found the ward and the stake that the Lord wants you in? Well we don't know. But what we do know, is we have been trying to find a home without success. And we're tired. So we're doing this. And we are excited to finally have a plan. Finally be able to (in 5-6 months) have some semblance of a normal life again.

And slowly be able to once again feel like Utah is home.


To Good To Be True

The house we put an offer on over the weekend.
You know, the perfect one in the perfect location with the perfect price?

It ended up being a meth house.

House shopping is the worst.
Oh and stupid Utahn's that think meth is awesome. Yousuck.

And I put on my gym clothes and got distracted with blogging instead.
Not only do I have nothing to say other than I hate you stupid meth people, but I get to feel guilty for telling the world about it because eventually I'm going to have to walk back to my bedroom and put on my real clothes again.

And fold my nice clean gym clothes up and put them back in the drawer.

It happens.