Amateur Blogger

Amateur blogger - (n) a person who keeps a Web log (blog) or publish an online diary on an extremely sporadic basis.


For example: "Mary is such an amateur blogger. The last time I blogged was two months ago."


So... here we go. A quick run down of event of the past two months in a series of what I'm sure are long-awaited updates from OAL (our amateur life... yes, I'm totally nicknaming myself. Cool, right?)


I'll do you some justice and split it up among multiple posts. 

Amateur Sister II

November 2010; Annapolis, MD. 

I like to call us the alpha and the omega. We are the beginning and the end of our family.

Is it lame that I got teary-eyed watching my not-so-little, youngest brother rock the house at his last band competition of the season? 

My baby brother is growing up. I moved out when he was six years old, and that is how I will always remember him - as the kid who loved to hang out in a box on Christmas (remember that? It got very sweaty and very smelly very quickly). The kid I took to the pool every day the summer we moved. The kid whom I chased around the house. Now he's the kid that goes to homecoming dances, busts out sweet skateboarding tricks, and totes around an instrument the size of a small refrigerator. 

Seriously, where have I been? When did this happen? Where is that little kid? I suppose while I was busy getting a degree, husband, and job, he decided to grow up. I couldn't be more happy with the person he's decided to become so far. The picture below is from his baptism. I'm was so proud of him then and still feel that same pride when I think of him passing the sacrament on Sundays. Keep it up, Hunt-stud. Before you know it, you'll be going off to college and serving a mission. I can't wait! 

January 2004; Yorktown, VA

Amateur Christmas Movie Watcher

Was Halloween a mere 9 days ago? And you say it still isn't even Thanksgiving yet? Well, I say bah-humbug to you Christmas-celebration haters. Mimicking the great poetry of Emma Lazarus, I say to give me your jazzy holiday tunes, your glittery decor, your over-abundant masses of cards in the mail yearning to be read, the glorious sounds of your choral sing-alongs. Send these, the Christmas spirit, baked cookies to me, I lift my lights to adorn the evergreen tree!

Why not start early this year? We always talk about trying to make the feelings and sentiments of the holiday season last through the year, and I can't think of a better way than to emphasize the upcoming holidays of Thanksgiving (only 14 days away!) and Christmas (44 days!). I'm doing my part by listing out all of the Christmas movies I want to watch. Time well spent, right?

Don't answer that.

So I like lists and I like movies. Sue me.

First, the must-sees:
- Christmas Story (easy - TBS will be playing it non-stop, so I'm bound to catch it)
- Elf (see above)
- Family Stone (one of my favorite movies of all time for some reason. It was the first and only movie I ever went to see by myself)
- A version of the Grinch Who Stole Christmas (I'm partial to the original)
- Home Alone (one of Scott's most favorite movies of all time)
- It's a Wonderful Life (because it most certainly is, isn't it?)
- Miracle on 34th Street
- A version of A Christmas Carol (and perhaps a reread of the literary version as well)
- Nativity Story
- Polar Express (perhaps SIL Julie and I will also learn how to play the theme on the piano, too)
- Holiday Inn (not just because our wedding reception was also at the "holl-a-day eeeeeen" <--- name that terrible rap song!)
- White Christmas (hello, true classic!)

Next, the hopefully-there-is-time after the must-sees (or I will make time):
- Shop Around the Corner (what You've Got Mail, another top 5 for me and Scott, is based on, along with Jimmy Stewart again? Can't say no to that)
- Little Women (another personal all-time favorite)
- The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (because it just feels so Christmas-y and being Mormon, I have to find some way to include C.S. Lewis)
- You've Got Mail (why not? I watch at least a few times a year anyway)

And finally, the if-I'm-really-bored list (because I really like the actors and the settings):
- While You Were Sleeping (gotta love Bill Pullman)
- Preacher's Wife (hello, Denzel! And an awesome soundtrack to boot)
- The American President (great cast and set in DC)

So what are your favorite holiday movies? Anything I'm missing, folks?

Amateur Ragnar Relay Runner

About a month ago, Scott and I received a random message from our friend Richard. The message was a little hazy, something about late notice, a race lasting 24+ hours, 12 runners, 36 legs, and a reflective vest. Needless to say, we hemmed and hawed a bit. Scott needed to do a single looong run for his marathon training; I planned on going to SunFest in Ocean City with my MIL. It didn't look like it would work out.

The next day we got a desperate text, and before I knew it, Scott committed us to the race in a three-word comment on Facebook (my husband is a man of many words). A week and half later, we found ourselves standing in the chilly morning air of Rocky Gap National Park with a hundred other crazy people. Time flies when you have no idea what you're getting yourself into.

With that as some background, I'd now like to tell you a story. A story of 197 miles, a giant white van, and six people, two-thirds being complete strangers.

First, the van. The back bench was for sleeping (aka my bench); the front bench was for recovery, complete with baby wipes and tennis balls (aka the grossest); the front passenger was the navigator; and whoever didn't fit any of those roles got to sit in the middle. Most notably, the van did not smell good.

The key to this story are the six Dental Runnin' Rammers runners the van carried:

First, Richard, aka "Pepto." Our fearless leader, runner number six, and owner of the much-coveted captain's shirt. I can't think of a better guy to wrangle up a team. He also completely schooled his last leg, setting a PR. 

Then we have Heather, aka "the volunteer." The leader's other half and the only one from our van to take on another leg (our team only had 11 people, not 12, so three people had to pick up extra legs). I'm pretty sure Heather had another nickname, but it escapes me at the moment. Heather was also runner numero uno and rocked it like a hurricane. Basically, she's my hero.

This is Spencer, aka "VERY hard." Spencer was runner number three. The first leg for this runner had difficulty ranked at the hardest level (very hard). To be sure, we didn't forget it. Spencer was also our videographer and drove the giant van like a champ. His past life working for the UPS definitely came in handy.

Now for runner number five - Josh, aka "The Pecerciser." Although the Ragnar had people from all walks of life, most people were pretty hard core (present company included). The hard core dudes typically ran sans-shirt, and not even a blind man could ignore the -1% body fat on these guys. Whilst driving by one particularly cut runner (you could seriously see how this guy's muscles worked. It was like watching a Discovery Channel special on the human body), Josh commented that this was the kind of guy his wife dreamed of. The ultimate pecerciser.

Then there was runner two, Scott, aka "the Hulk." Seriously, you don't want mess with this guy; just look at that mug! Scott's hulk-ability was so intense that not even his own toe nail could keep up. I can't lie, he totally killed it. That black little piggy did not go to market, but stayed home. It couldn't handle the hulk-ness of Scott overtaking the Ragnar.

Finally, there's me, yours truly, aka "livin' on prayer." I was the fourth runner. Right around the beginning of the race, I mentioned we should have a quick prayer. Then just before my second leg (around the o-dark-thirty of night), I asked Scott to say a prayer because I am deathly afraid of the dark. I kid you not, my most-hated household task is turning off the light before bed. My adrenaline rushes like no other, and how do you expect to fall asleep with nerves running like crazy? 

Any way, back on track: my third and final leg comes up, just before the dawning sun. This time, I say a desperate prayer for motivation. Even though I probably (definitely) slept the most (another nickname could've been sleepy - the most repeated phrase was probably "yeah, Mary's still asleep back there"), I was struggling. My mental and physical wills were shot. Six miles and a couple of hills stood between me and the sweet comfort of a very smelly van. Those six miles may as well been 50. 

Yet, I said the prayer and my teammates pulled me through the entire way. God granted me with incredible motivation in the form of five very cool cats. 

The Ragnar is probably one of the coolest things I've ever done. I mean, I've done a lot of cool stuff - like band in high school, or wearing pajamas all day - but this completely takes the cake. While Richard may have gotten other people to do it if we skipped out (actually, he probably couldn't, but nonetheless), I'm glad he asked us. I can't think of a better way to spend a weekend (except for maybe at a spa... but I digress), than with a group of hilarious, supportive, stinky, sweaty, and sleep-deprived friends, both old and new.

So who is in for Ragnar 2011? All the cool kids are doing it (even the ones with their eyes closed; sorry, Rich. It was the only group one I had).

Amatuer Dinner Conversation

Talking about one's daily high and low point was a common break-the-ice question asked among BYU co-eds (at least in my day). Answers ranged from terrible exams and over sleeping to gifts of homemade cookies and a sweet new job on campus. I now continue to pose the question, typically around dinner time, mostly interested the daily happening of my family, but also just to spur some decent conversation. While my husband detests it (his low usually consists of me asking the question), I love it. With that, here are a few recent highs and lows:

First, many food highs (shocking, I know!) soft pretzels from work's "Recharge Wednesday" (aka extended cafeteria hours); then a meal which included a french cheese plater, escargot, ratatouille, and creme brulee. Let's just I'm saving up for round two. 

Unfortunately, there was a food low where a terrible raspberry soufflé got even worse when we attempted to save it with chocolate. The pictures are too graphic and disappointing. No one really wants to remember such a sad event.

Moving on with some more highs, not only did I get to visit Panama City, FL (aka heaven) again for work...

...but I also went to see this year's tour of So You Think You Can Dance. I'm thinking the American Idol Live concert this summer was a gateway drug to such behavior. None the less, those dancers are crazy awesome.

Another high was reading Julia Child's My Life in France (read it, asap. France + food + Julia Child = a party in 300+ pages).

The reading low was Diane Rehm's autobiography, Finding My Voice. Diane is one of my heroes, so I had some pretty high expectations. If you love her, just continue listening to her. Do NOT read her. Let's just say a great radio personality does not translate well into great literature. If you've never heard her show, check it out! I promise you, it will not disappoint.

So, what are some of your highs and lows from the last few weeks? I'm thinking my high today is realizing how sneaky I am with this awesome 3-in-1 post. Food, concert, and books all in one night! Aren't you lucky?

Amateur Reader

Yes, I know it is the middle of the month. Give a gal a break.

What I read in August:

The Help by Kathryn Stockett and The Kids are All Right by the Welch children.

First, The Help.

The Help has long been on my list - from various good ratings on GoodReads, a great interview with Diane Rehm, and a mention from Scott's cousin last year. I finally put it on hold at the library and am so glad I did.

To answer my friend Allison's voice-mail (also a day late and a dollar short), yes, I would definitely recommend this for book club. I would have loved to discuss this with others! I'll start my review with my favorite quote from the book:

“In the kitchen I fix some grits without no seasoning, and put them baby marshmallows on top. I toast the whole thing to make it a little crunchy. Then I garnish it with a cut-up strawberry. That’s all a grit is, a vehicle. For whatever it is you rather be eating.”

I think this quote is a great presentation of Stockett. She has a few different narrators, all female, but at opposite ends of the southern spectrum at the height of the civil rights movement in the Sixties. One is a single, white, young adult (Skeeter) and the others are older black maids (Minny and Aibileen). The premise is as follows: Skeeter, restless upon college graduation and subsequent unemployment (all resulting in living back home with her parents), approaches Aibileen about helping her write a book. An anonymous book filled with stories from black maids about their experience with various white families, and especially their relationship with their white female employers. Some stories are terrible - always getting blamed for stealing, raising and loving children who are taught to hate these women, etc. However, most are uplifting - most white women realize that couldn't do a think without their help. That their maids are in actuality their cornerstone, their confidants, and a true friend. This anonymous book is a vehicle for their emotions - the stories flow from these women like the milk and honey Moses received in the desert. Some of the stories are topped with ugly, decaying moldy bread; others with the aforementioned marshmallow and strawberries (and a crunch. Every story has a bite to it, to be sure). Each one has it's own flavor and texture. Each woman has her own, unique voice. It is a beautiful story with wonderful characters. Kudos to you, Stockett, for a job well done.

Next, The Kids are All Right

It was okay. I adored Diane Rehm's interview with the all of the kids (another Diane-inspired pick), so decided to see it all for myself. Their story is a sad one - father dies suddenly, leaving his widow with 4 young kids (5 to 16, roughly). Not only does his surprising death send them into a tailspin, but he left them with loads of debt; and they only come to discover that their mother has cancer. She also dies after barely surviving many invasive treatments, leaving them (for all intents and purposes) orphans a few years later. This book captures their look back on those years and beyond, with sections written by each child. It is interesting to look at how the same memories differ, and how each child deals with the situations before them in their very unique and individual way. Liz and Diana are writers by trade, so their portions are more lengthy and better written, but not stellar. It is a quick read, and I am on a huge memoir kick right now, so I liked it well enough. Two stars. If you're running out of things to read, love the eighties and the upper class society of New England, then this your book. If not, listen to the interview. It is a riot.

Happy reading! I've picked up two memoirs again for this month, so be prepared.

Amateur Home Buyer

Back in June, we finally put an offer on a house (after roughly four months of searching). Then we waited. And we waited some more. And we kept on waiting. Then, finally, we heard back (it was a short sale, ironically named for how ridiculously long the process takes). At first, the counter offer wasn't ideal and didn't seem right. But after tweaking some of the terms, it all appeared to work out in the end. It seemed like a no-brainer. On paper, it met all of our standards. Had the right number of bedrooms, bathrooms, and was the right location for the right price. We signed the papers, but didn't send them in right away.

We had to give our final answer of official acceptance on Tuesday.

For some reason, we were hesitant.

We hemmed, we hawed.

And hemmed and hawed again.

Come Tuesday morning, my dear husband says a prayer, asking specifically if we should buy this home.

Immediately I hear "Don't do it."

I'm sure I don't really have to tell you, but that wasn't exactly the answer for which I was looking. I was looking for it all to go smoothly, for this house to be the end of search, the answer to our prayers. I was looking for a reassurance and comfort about this huge decision.

But the answer hung in my mind like a coat in an empty closet. It was obvious. Don't do it.

I told Scott, and we discussed. How did we not receive this answer earlier? How did we feel okay with everything yesterday? Is it just nerves? Why? Why shouldn't we do it?

All I knew was that I couldn't ignore it. I knew our answer. I also knew that if we have faith and follow this prompting, we will be in the right place. While I'm sure everything would have been fine if we just went ahead with this house, it was not the best (or right, for that matter) choice. It wasn't the place for us.

We didn't go through with it.

It wasn't easy, but we gave word of our final decision. After hitting send, I truly felt a burden had been lifted. Instantly, I had zero regret and no second thoughts.

I can't even begin to express the gratitude I have for the power of prayer, faith, the Priesthood, and the Gospel. I am grateful for the promptings and personal revelations I receive from the Spirit. It isn't always easy to listen to the Spirit, let alone be open and aware enough to hear it. I think President Faust describes it perfectly in this latest Message:



I hope everyone can have this kind of experience in their life. What a blessing it is to have this source for peace and guidance.

Let the search begin (again)!