tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78039182962905753292024-02-18T20:38:15.990-06:00Sparkle Sparkle ShakeI wish I could wear sequined cheetah print everyday.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-58910563954675446072011-12-29T01:24:00.000-06:002011-12-29T01:26:32.236-06:00I Got Married<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/33586904?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=ffffff" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen></iframe>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-19504605771819333472011-04-18T22:20:00.002-05:002011-04-18T22:29:01.537-05:00I never thought that I cared much about aging...... but when the male employee at the hipster pizza place in town asked me if I was <a href="http://beautyandthebeastmaster.blogspot.com/">Jana's </a>mom on Saturday, I seriously contemplated <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">botox</span>. I mean, yes, Jana has a very youthful look, but she's only 2 years younger than me and he thought I was 20 years older than her! I used to say that I "liked" my eye wrinkle crows feet because it means I smile a lot, but maybe it's time for some wrinkle cream or something.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-58674282295694894362011-03-16T17:14:00.001-05:002011-03-16T17:16:33.198-05:00Making PlansAnyone who knows me, knows I'm a planner. So naturally, Gard and I have been making all sorts of plans for our life together (knowing full well that life never goes according to plan). We have a lot of similar ideas about things we'd like to do, but there is one thing we can't seem to agree on: motorcycles. He loves them, I hate them. Luckily we got that worked out over g-chat today.<br /><br />me: i wish you could watch this Sunday Morning with me right now<br />Gard: me too! what are you learning about?<br />me: it's about a 100 year old ski racer who rides a motorcycle<br />Gard: what?? how did they interview me in the future?<br />me: ha. you can have a motorcycle when you turn 100<br />Gard: before then<br />like 80<br />at the latest<br />me: ok, 80<br />Gard: but only if you're not still around<br />me: ok, fair<br />Gard: i'm buying one the day you check out<br />me: i'll leave a motorcycle for you in my will<br />Gard: haha<br />me: fine by me<br />Gard: ok<br />me: deal<br />Gard: no point hanging out by myself<br />me: you can ride your motorcycle around<br />and then it won't be as much of a tragedy when you get run over<br />Gard: haha<br />me: because you'll be coming to see me<br />Gard: thanks hun<br />me: you're welcomelindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-70935900795728275952011-03-03T21:44:00.005-06:002011-03-03T23:11:53.051-06:00Who would've thought?<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqk27J6OSoWhfOHlxnBkA5LHO43bVlZ1BK0lEEGOgQgpxh8miWkJH0ZalMscAPX2oH1KHrLfFr_sV2rUbKnOaCsB0dfRJzR-r6JbUnkR-YnKESCAjYf26dhSLto8l6fwf-mnwOABwmJk-n/s1600/IMG_5319.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580087066272050162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqk27J6OSoWhfOHlxnBkA5LHO43bVlZ1BK0lEEGOgQgpxh8miWkJH0ZalMscAPX2oH1KHrLfFr_sV2rUbKnOaCsB0dfRJzR-r6JbUnkR-YnKESCAjYf26dhSLto8l6fwf-mnwOABwmJk-n/s320/IMG_5319.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">A few minutes after we got engaged.<br /></span><br />A year and a half ago,<em> </em>I was at Sunday dinner with my parents and we got talking about dating. One thing led to another and I ended up <a href="http://casa-de-dereon.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes-i-hate-being-girl.html">laying in my mom's lap crying</a> (yes, at 26 sometimes a good cry in your mom's lap is the only thing that will make you feel better). I just didn't get it. How did people fall in love and get married? It all just seemed so far off for me. Little did I know, the boy I would end up loving was already very much a part of my life, the time just had to be right.<br /><br />I was busy looking for the guy I thought I wanted. I thought I'd marry some guy who was studying business or dentistry (maybe because that's 95% of the guys at BYU?) or maybe some guy who loved sports and dressed in business casual and had all of the same interests as me. I knew lots of those guys and they were all great, but I often found myself being self-conscious and trying to force something that wasn't there. It just wasn't working.<br /><br />So imagine my surprise when I found myself falling for Gard (who was not what I was looking for, but way better for me in so many ways). We'd been friends with for a couple of years and in that time I'd become so comfortable not only around him, but more comfortable around me- more comfortable in my own skin. I was able to be myself with him. One of the first times that Gard and I went to lunch together (a year and a half or so before we started dating), I picked apart my entire sandwich and did a bunch of things I'd never do in front of a date and remarked, "It's a good thing you're not trying to date me." And that was the trick- he wasn't trying to date me, we were just becoming friends and that made all the difference.<br /><br />It didn't matter that he adored all things outdoors and I'd only spent a lifetime total of 4 nights in a tent. I didn't get hung up on the fact that while I occasionally enjoyed sporting events, he was unfamiliar with the term "first down". Whether or not Gard liked The Dixie Chicks (he doesn't), I still liked them and whether or not I loved to ski, Gard still loved it and still loved me. I quit looking for all of those things I thought I wanted and found all of the things I needed (and didn't even realize it!) in Gard. I quit looking for the guy in a suit who had all the same interests and was able to look at Gard in his skinny jeans and t-shirts and fall in love with his kindness and sense of humor and intelligence (and adorable nerdiness!- the cool kind, not the weird kind) and testimony, etc etc etc. And miracle of all miracles, he fell in love with me!<br /><br />It's not like Gard was looking for me either. I'm sure he thought he'd end up with a girl who loved to rock climb and ski black diamonds and who maybe knew a thing or two about science. But that wasn't me and ultimately he didn't care. Even though I still pick apart my food and have only skied 3 times in my entire life and get overly excited about stupid things and talk way too fast for any one's good, he likes me. Somehow with all of our differences, we understand each other and make one another happy. So a few weeks ago when we were baking in our pajamas and I turned around to find him on one knee in the kitchen, it was a resounding, "YES!" (well, after I said, "Really?! Wait, you're supposed to tell me nice things."). Who would've thought?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVCv1eVV25a_awv8vy-0kg0pWUDlcdSapUuxEQr94TkQuZuzpcvSMbT1BixWK8shcWhyphenhyphenybri9BUK1EbMRDZOyqyYvO03_VWk6hiOc8bEPnG2_FsJbJC6_Bvdmu-RUWKWqhJ6_iNVipXit/s1600/IMG_5329.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580087432741097106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVCv1eVV25a_awv8vy-0kg0pWUDlcdSapUuxEQr94TkQuZuzpcvSMbT1BixWK8shcWhyphenhyphenybri9BUK1EbMRDZOyqyYvO03_VWk6hiOc8bEPnG2_FsJbJC6_Bvdmu-RUWKWqhJ6_iNVipXit/s320/IMG_5329.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">Calling Chickee to share the good news.</span><br /></div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-12945892813265043122011-02-28T21:10:00.002-06:002011-02-28T21:22:38.821-06:00So I finally read the first Harry Potter...And I thought it was okay. I mean, I enjoyed it, but I haven't been in a huge rush to read the second one (much to Gard's chagrin)- I know, I know, that makes me unimaginative and boring or something, but they're just not my cup of tea. Anyway, Gard keeps telling me that I need to read them so I understand his Harry Potter jokes. My reply is that the majority of his jokes don't involve Harry Potter, so I'm still in no rush. To which he replies, "What if I got into an accident and the only jokes I could tell were Harry Potter jokes?" Okay, fine, then I'd read them.<br /><br />Oh yeah, and we got engaged and I couldn't be happier about it! More on that to come.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-79743061945496079642010-10-04T13:18:00.001-05:002010-10-04T13:20:32.836-05:00Note to self:Do not apply your Burt's Bees lip balm with your finger and then rub your eye. The "soothing tingle" that the tin promises for your lips does not feel so good in your eyes.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-18581739711359727412010-09-30T17:48:00.015-05:002010-09-30T18:53:43.413-05:00B-Day weekend turned sister reunion<div align="center"> Gard had this great idea to go to his family's beach house to celebrate his birthday. So after a <em>TON </em>of convincing (yeah right), I was on board. After a turn of events, Gard's birthday weekend with friends somehow turned into a Rozier sister reunion with none of Gard's friends. Good thing Gard is easy going (or maybe there was so much chattering between me, Nat, and Whit that he didn't have a chance to tell us otherwise?). At any rate, I think all parties involved had a great time. How could we not in such a beautiful place? <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522857236172865058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8i0ZDdTyMfwopUM0_id4Q7pW8cGU8YTm-pnZNWyqdKcHPvYICKHMkNzL_q2_lGRJ5S14u_AKz2JDFyg1cM2Zp2dGxMKWAhUx7p7YrP6Ield-3oJAeIjCA5JpbmZXKs6ZdCUoDsNLzyHf/s320/IMG_4237.JPG" /> <div><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522856899677693618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UF1eCAM752wj9rAcCIAA3ybPyzymUiusk0JqW2xSrqHr3FShbkbGHRmjVwoojW0ukO_n7PSJqoDu8KanrijbYg6cI59LFSh9pa8L8zoLaBhUajuwwQai9tHzJj_qLhRPCen1tXlQg0Ll/s320/IMG_4229.JPG" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522856703388614386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCm3NO85VBu54ty7fQ3qBgEZF2i2J1WO5as9T7pi8ZTBKWwQ3vsh2m4EG7BfVdcXdkswy_hf-lJ1oYdjJhI3Q8xHHyqGI5-2QSdHrHP7WqZYweF0L2eBrPSMccmbifcmzTCzHc56L1BBTS/s320/IMG_4226.JPG" /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522856259184022354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMRLz3DyjMKVAUUtuzEBpPFfR0oA-yCcILPvGcg4A-csqo-k7NVR8fW2Wbt8zmE2b1nkw-xQ7bubEgD9HlSDW0dw59zL1J1f1b1jfaPHTYPnQ286gczKOPu2j-fQ5x8a7w3PaPCz7bR2D/s320/IMG_4224.JPG" />Doing what we do best (well, besides talking).<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522856054625098082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRonORwlXB1TD27zXTdwX76aXL6YpVsX3NRu3n-DpE1zZDMSvdJb7RV0mc2KwmJbr4nixAw55toKz4aBB-Q0FFMG7bhJC0-lT9UwC_BggTWE2yxlBy8PcGX282l-9eDsDv0Y4mc5q4z19/s320/IMG_4225.JPG" /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522855595731238498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9fXX1zHJRehTGf1Qk9-UHhyuWJ5jDHgDIOy13oPwvgPl7TRcK9lVVg7jMIJmUgwmeoAyvoPJWIDMg0jtzLGK8RhB5ifBS68QEtQPTsGUYdzwQf3U9bQ-m9SmK1-I-ObdPKuL56zfQp37/s320/IMG_4259.JPG" />Twin ninja hoodies. Apparently we like to <a href="http://get-weird.blogspot.com/2009/10/sadie-hawkins.html">match in my family</a>.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522855272722621698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrR33nCWBwq4vDkxvXEIEPx7oxFsPhCZ9JFpftYS4eMCsP22lEX1DIvm3_CW_cfP6J1Kjx4xsVgKQZ2Ta0r_COzn8ZMkyGTuOP0q0kue74jo4w4b4LNkO8K0SHcAm-zuipDx7P2_aEL9tG/s320/IMG_4248.JPG" /> Yes, believe it or not, that's me in the middle of the ocean on a kayak.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522854801650695042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB00igL6o0GcPp3meLRRSpvtZZPqtUqLjhs_XzZao1DXAeg1FF1hclpJjY6RxLW-mTAWNFa_fTYV70Np1Mr0qIxxxdTmpwmgNfIopowTCwVtoCMPthvDzTbKy9vIA5OhWebQkY87B0e-TC/s320/IMG_4247.JPG" /> </div></div></div><br /></div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-4488500228360914172010-09-27T19:57:00.002-05:002010-09-27T20:06:05.300-05:00I think it's time for an intervention or something.<div align="center">It's almost 7:oopm and I'm just getting ready to leave work. Yes, sometimes I have a tendency to work too much, but that's not the issue I'm tackling here. The issue is that I just moved a large pile of paper to find chocolate stuck to several documents that go into patient's medical charts. Oops. That, coupled with finding rainbow sprinkles stuck to my chest when I took my bra off the other night (those Banbury donuts are just <em>TOO</em> good), just screams for a cleanse. Okay, I'm not crazy enough to give up sweets or anything (because anyone who knows me knows my appreciation for all things sweet), but maybe I'll just start with some vegetables for dinner. Luckily I like those too. </div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-36313785356903751922010-09-21T20:39:00.002-05:002010-09-21T20:43:40.584-05:00Further evidence that I'm a 76 year old woman trapped in a 27 year old's body.<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuVg6yfPKesMLlWoGxxyObzKn2KpqY0dAgPuE9DmMC8tu5scF1oTTgXPYrM4WRgxf7soyvJm1okgumHZgTse_ljF37f-zxxugZKnUwa7EnEXDEXpcWFLPkgLztdZ_ccmiPdHnC1syWZcoi/s1600/sunday.gif"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 102px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519546746385230674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuVg6yfPKesMLlWoGxxyObzKn2KpqY0dAgPuE9DmMC8tu5scF1oTTgXPYrM4WRgxf7soyvJm1okgumHZgTse_ljF37f-zxxugZKnUwa7EnEXDEXpcWFLPkgLztdZ_ccmiPdHnC1syWZcoi/s320/sunday.gif" /></a> I think Sunday Morning is the best show on television. News? Check. Fun facts? Check. Sketches on things ranging from the Hoover Dam to toothpick art to pop culture? Check, check, and check. What more could I want in a television show?<br /><br /></div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-12869385781087454502010-09-16T18:06:00.002-05:002010-09-16T19:14:41.917-05:00I take back all the mean things I've ever said about LAXI think I've flown into/out of LAX a handful of times in my life, but for some reason I had a total aversion to that airport- that is until this past Tuesday. I'm typically a glass half-full kind of girl, but whenever I heard someone say something about LAX, it was usually followed by a quick, "Ugh, I HATE that airport. It's just so big and busy and such a pain," or some other exaggerated response to that effect. Well, I take it all back.<br /><br />On Tuesday, I was at LAX at 7:20 am (so obviously I was in an awesome mood after waking up at 6:00am). I got in the security line to be herded like a cow up to the TSA attendant to go through the huge rigmarole that is now airport travel- still in a totally awesome mood, I assure you. As I approached the TSA podium though, something was different. The attendants were smiling. What?! And on top of that, they were handing out compliments like it was candy. "Oh, Ms. Rozier, headed home today? You sure look nice!" Then I saw one TSA guy look at a lady's ID and say, "Oh, you've decided to go blond. Good choice, it looks great!" Then the lady at the next podium looked at another guy's ID and said, "Wow, nice smile!" For a second, I expected Ashton Kutcher to jump out, but then I remembered that it isn't 2003.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-64629112792955411992010-06-21T18:03:00.004-05:002010-06-21T18:10:54.692-05:00Some people think Christmas or Thanksgiving are the best days of the year...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-e99T_EcWQFFNUjGA5zex9SR88VFFdX9FZi8Zucx7BdRhLUEgxkNkRg5UKIGbAC3p4JZIUsw6Mus9cQ5mEyoDB9i6W9hjxcjpWyNaqlsrJAtBTQphEmcQ0SQlcNh9mFw1H4vCrvamKz64/s1600/Xu5g0iIyhoowa68viVFq6M54o1_400.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485367622636556994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-e99T_EcWQFFNUjGA5zex9SR88VFFdX9FZi8Zucx7BdRhLUEgxkNkRg5UKIGbAC3p4JZIUsw6Mus9cQ5mEyoDB9i6W9hjxcjpWyNaqlsrJAtBTQphEmcQ0SQlcNh9mFw1H4vCrvamKz64/s320/Xu5g0iIyhoowa68viVFq6M54o1_400.jpg" /></a><br /><div>...I beg to differ. If I had to pick my favorite day of the year, I think it might have to be summer solstice. I mean, 15 hours of sunlight, does it get any better than that?! I think I'll celebrate with a grilled hot dog (well, let's be honest, I've been celebrating the warm weather with hot dogs for weeks now). So maybe I'll add a quick jog in the park as part of my celebration. After all, it'll be light until like 10pm or something wonderful like that!</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-89540253726130729852010-06-21T01:25:00.002-05:002010-06-21T01:32:38.266-05:00"Dad is da bomb"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAT5Csdl-xWAon18g05QJE9QVSIYJmaZxQix3doa41egg83c1pfHcTi9KTCV6VlSTDlqMqSjgZFL25qi2tFnOVm8rKXXDB8JeHk7bbwJdH4C8OjIXGk3mbEfCrt7SBAzTkKFSD4jc7BxO/s1600/IMG_4142.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485110975338509042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAT5Csdl-xWAon18g05QJE9QVSIYJmaZxQix3doa41egg83c1pfHcTi9KTCV6VlSTDlqMqSjgZFL25qi2tFnOVm8rKXXDB8JeHk7bbwJdH4C8OjIXGk3mbEfCrt7SBAzTkKFSD4jc7BxO/s320/IMG_4142.JPG" /></a><br /><div>A few years back, my dad learned how to send text messages. Shortly thereafter, I started recieving texts with phrases like the title of this post. I couldn't argue- my dad really is da bomb.</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-61367471787400017202010-06-03T18:20:00.002-05:002010-06-03T18:23:13.106-05:00official start to summerI've had a grilled hot dog every night for the last 4 nights. If that doesn't scream summertime I don't know what does.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-79704835961662884542010-03-15T17:49:00.003-05:002010-03-15T17:54:31.377-05:00"It's your birthday?!"<div align="center">"It's your birthday?! Happy birthday!" I think I heard this roughly 297 times at work today. The best part is that it was from the same 7 residents. Sometimes having short-term memory loss isn't a bad thing because then you get to be excited about things like birthdays over and over again.</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-79226048412390598692010-03-09T00:50:00.006-06:002010-03-09T01:02:49.839-06:00Once in a Lifetime<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxW9V-ybKH-poszvf-GxEzXxfwR0LlIQ6jgrhodSk1fbembUEyjSsEsq9__LoevoHz2_3ai4CUsLfpoj7wzMtB5U182tYkPwDmsIsnsxG_OknPCLU4Uk7Z0Mum2H3iooBOGNxo3wA4prY/s1600-h/IMG_4030.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446524498820998098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxW9V-ybKH-poszvf-GxEzXxfwR0LlIQ6jgrhodSk1fbembUEyjSsEsq9__LoevoHz2_3ai4CUsLfpoj7wzMtB5U182tYkPwDmsIsnsxG_OknPCLU4Uk7Z0Mum2H3iooBOGNxo3wA4prY/s320/IMG_4030.JPG" /></a><br /><div align="center">I know I pick on Utah a lot, but there are some really great perks about living in Salt Lake- namely, stake conference in the Tabernacle. Oh and did I mention that our ward was the choir? Yes, I sang in a Tabernacle choir- not THE Tabernacle choir, but I was so excited about sitting in those choir seats and singing with that amazing organ, it may as well have been. I tried really hard to pay attention to the speakers, but my mind kept wandering and thinking about all of the wonderful Saints and General Authorities who have sat in those seats.</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhn0eFEMBCxlyfwXRRxtlJkqLZdRC0SQn2BIWge9pcDw2mk5arKHVFz3R0BUDl4ZgPm196CAZkYU7slxLWxXRUo20bY-DXB9oB6v8zRF2VF12O_qREZcw3kkuLMm7AyoSX3eM546BT5_g/s1600-h/IMG_4033.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446524953380562546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhn0eFEMBCxlyfwXRRxtlJkqLZdRC0SQn2BIWge9pcDw2mk5arKHVFz3R0BUDl4ZgPm196CAZkYU7slxLWxXRUo20bY-DXB9oB6v8zRF2VF12O_qREZcw3kkuLMm7AyoSX3eM546BT5_g/s320/IMG_4033.JPG" /></a></div></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsj-4yUV3ygm2yAji5f8Y2ezQ_9JSfJ5l5W_vxiCsbagpgemO3od_WVJG618zpJRaXLe0vn-is6BHblOIWnzzajDkHXIRJDzTIs0UQslxSIWavSFhwdI-Iq8qyKZLgEjKdXGw_z037RJPs/s1600-h/IMG_4029.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446525433762932722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsj-4yUV3ygm2yAji5f8Y2ezQ_9JSfJ5l5W_vxiCsbagpgemO3od_WVJG618zpJRaXLe0vn-is6BHblOIWnzzajDkHXIRJDzTIs0UQslxSIWavSFhwdI-Iq8qyKZLgEjKdXGw_z037RJPs/s320/IMG_4029.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTf20s_4hqAh6QeiXwLTlnzni-daS3z43DsRenkP33SR7z88MnCjb0S1ENpg08a-i6sWiDCVWb-2piE3aeYMqQVYt-senefZ0xEccUZwfSATg9ntfJn0UDgCw3NCz0GcVc0oWOhmgqPTn/s1600-h/IMG_4035.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446525794874129730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTf20s_4hqAh6QeiXwLTlnzni-daS3z43DsRenkP33SR7z88MnCjb0S1ENpg08a-i6sWiDCVWb-2piE3aeYMqQVYt-senefZ0xEccUZwfSATg9ntfJn0UDgCw3NCz0GcVc0oWOhmgqPTn/s320/IMG_4035.JPG" /></a>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-63427638484742706922010-02-26T00:24:00.003-06:002010-02-26T00:28:15.934-06:00I think the lecture went well?<div align="center">Well, at least the professor invited me back next semester- so that's gotta count for something, right? Or maybe, it was the fact that I brought candy? I figured graduate students still like treats, so even if my lecture was boring, at least they had something yummy to snack on.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">P.S. In all seriousness though- being a professor is my DREAM JOB. I really love my job, but being back in the classroom reminded me how much I really love school (and what a big nerd I am.)</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-40965415329600954902010-02-24T00:39:00.001-06:002010-02-24T00:40:39.097-06:00I'm going to be a guest lecturer in a graduate social work class at the University of Utah on Thursday.<div align="center">Does that mean I'm a grown up?</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-5665520285838224132010-02-17T01:28:00.003-06:002010-02-17T01:30:22.458-06:00I'm never sad to wake up to a box of donuts on my doorstep.<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNbwxQDW0j7AegKk_dlMmhCtIYhN_b3ploJOuGt66cYMV-44seDyR__5jSd_WEkw-0Cc-udtdjIASaPiCt6vzXCb5yKHuC5kYqsRxK0OjntTpitfMtr3bpPlO-oqnOL1D15LL8ZtwUh9W/s1600-h/2010-02-16+13_25_05-762499.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439111118721599986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNbwxQDW0j7AegKk_dlMmhCtIYhN_b3ploJOuGt66cYMV-44seDyR__5jSd_WEkw-0Cc-udtdjIASaPiCt6vzXCb5yKHuC5kYqsRxK0OjntTpitfMtr3bpPlO-oqnOL1D15LL8ZtwUh9W/s320/2010-02-16+13_25_05-762499.jpg" /></a> Dare I say they rival Judy's Donuts in Clovis?</div><div align="center">Perfect way to start the day.<br /><br /></div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-83395572679946133172010-01-26T23:49:00.004-06:002010-01-27T00:04:03.933-06:00I needed something to get me through these last few winter months.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBz5QyHPvpoF2vQRqLhxQcJ_TSE45tTWM5BMgmieclOUbtH8WnjnQxCDJbTgNoSYJK_h_xY0iF0W42k9gCMDsBwrWvbiVgDXJm7kWU8DMlifc2DliTRvxXyUcIoHjrl2ZKFJvNq4V7Z0qc/s1600-h/Hawaii.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431296064554184306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBz5QyHPvpoF2vQRqLhxQcJ_TSE45tTWM5BMgmieclOUbtH8WnjnQxCDJbTgNoSYJK_h_xY0iF0W42k9gCMDsBwrWvbiVgDXJm7kWU8DMlifc2DliTRvxXyUcIoHjrl2ZKFJvNq4V7Z0qc/s320/Hawaii.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center">So you may have already figured out that I'm not a huge fan of winter. In fact, I don't really hate things, but I might hate winter. </div><div align="center">So in an attempt to think warm thoughts, I booked a trip to Hawaii!!! It's not until March, but it's all I can think about. Hopefully tomorrow when I'm scraping snow off of my windshield in freezing temps, it won't be quite so bad 'cause I can just imagine myself on the beach. March cannot get here fast enough.</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-21236261506845303442010-01-20T01:38:00.002-06:002010-01-20T01:43:00.267-06:00Conundrum<div align="center">I went to the dentist last week and he told me that I should drink out of a straw to prevent discoloring my teeth. But then my dermatologist says I shouldn't drink out of a straw to avoid wrinkles around my mouth. So I guess I have to choose? Wrinkles or stained teeth- it's a toss-up.</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-73373876993671595752010-01-01T20:07:00.011-06:002010-01-03T12:42:45.656-06:00Hard to believe it's been 10 years since we were worrying about Y2K.<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">We wanted to avoid having our house trashed like <a href="http://casa-de-dereon.blogspot.com/2009/01/remember-when-we-thought-that-few.html">last year</a>, so we opted out of throwing a New Year's party. Instead, we got a few friends together for some dining, dancing, rooftop celebrating, sparkling cider drinking, midnight kissing, and snowy hot-tubbing (platonic, snowy hot-tubbing). Welcome 2010, I can't wait to see what you've got in store! </div><div align="center"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZPyIB4f_hMf8QOt8ikIKtPES6ydN_UAVVGko_4HVoTa6kcXZa0rKRCUYxSJ32vEW9fUKQRsjbk5jCl07HRwaAPUnBdQp96i016JgYeW58RFoZBMLBL77UCTU-CsqIzye12DqSlT-xFQzK/s1600-h/IMG_3933.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421962590223636226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZPyIB4f_hMf8QOt8ikIKtPES6ydN_UAVVGko_4HVoTa6kcXZa0rKRCUYxSJ32vEW9fUKQRsjbk5jCl07HRwaAPUnBdQp96i016JgYeW58RFoZBMLBL77UCTU-CsqIzye12DqSlT-xFQzK/s320/IMG_3933.JPG" /></a><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421962119056344498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dqRPWAma2K67HQb942uwUdicK0fpxcfkhyUY-khRwiBA1wnUbmmgnXXlNkgN2fSIaIaOlztDYk3L171ALqSO9FQ1Hj2DSAFNxlVls6Xlo6wh72Omt125VrVxkEWb1Fb1LteWQc4rRslI/s320/IMG_3959.JPG" /> <p align="center"> Wore my bow tie for the occasion (compliments of <a href="http://sheaandsyd.blogspot.com/">Shea</a>).<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckuESzXUuAZKhm2r3PzXDaYRzJ2gwSJIIIvt5BOzg8AA_QgACmJ8uGGQzAzY-4g9Fnw5uXm6iFskQFg1WXXJsxRU5lin4zUiKZZUb44Y6E-sAf3Ie0GNcOL14TO0bVmLVZCut8wu25ney/s1600-h/IMG_3961.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421961457343581778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckuESzXUuAZKhm2r3PzXDaYRzJ2gwSJIIIvt5BOzg8AA_QgACmJ8uGGQzAzY-4g9Fnw5uXm6iFskQFg1WXXJsxRU5lin4zUiKZZUb44Y6E-sAf3Ie0GNcOL14TO0bVmLVZCut8wu25ney/s320/IMG_3961.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmP-v33GW3eg2MfOpivgQiP-98OASMMU1WigU8K3sH2istdMzdH0Q3su2q822ubIJkJAg5FzkUUvX59iA2Sc2EphV9CMTYxjkF9PqxY8h0GibJU_vOHSwxGxz0Ta-py3njcWguoBNBSy6a/s1600-h/L1010212.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422585372981564018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmP-v33GW3eg2MfOpivgQiP-98OASMMU1WigU8K3sH2istdMzdH0Q3su2q822ubIJkJAg5FzkUUvX59iA2Sc2EphV9CMTYxjkF9PqxY8h0GibJU_vOHSwxGxz0Ta-py3njcWguoBNBSy6a/s320/L1010212.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi49xnbG-oe54R5zuqxtu47j-vuGiXAthcBlMzgsqjCj4397NGpDWMhzeSAM51vtD3pSLVd8OcHuJS2CHch_RliHaNHX9MORfWgfHsWpxPuqyiNjD_kWdee9fUcGUSjwKzxX5OT2GgFADYZ/s1600-h/img_8467.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421960870552027122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi49xnbG-oe54R5zuqxtu47j-vuGiXAthcBlMzgsqjCj4397NGpDWMhzeSAM51vtD3pSLVd8OcHuJS2CHch_RliHaNHX9MORfWgfHsWpxPuqyiNjD_kWdee9fUcGUSjwKzxX5OT2GgFADYZ/s320/img_8467.jpg" /> <p align="center"> </a><span style="font-size:85%;">** Photo from the Belvedere rooftop via </span><a href="http://beastmasterbl8ordie.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;">Beastmaster</span></a><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nmzEd2ygLjppJF8BDUSCQsNbSBZbCODP3A5FpJpUhlXycGWY3apy76W3YGyytYuoWpXh5OjJ-sSWh29zF08cbRfnNAXUobbvjm5KxooUzh9KC7tL9A6CY1XSsY_8qHjZLwfl8DTV5Ttj/s1600-h/IMG_3977.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421960092697375554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nmzEd2ygLjppJF8BDUSCQsNbSBZbCODP3A5FpJpUhlXycGWY3apy76W3YGyytYuoWpXh5OjJ-sSWh29zF08cbRfnNAXUobbvjm5KxooUzh9KC7tL9A6CY1XSsY_8qHjZLwfl8DTV5Ttj/s320/IMG_3977.JPG" /><br /><p align="center"></a></p><p align="center">Always nice to end the night with a good soak. </p>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-26855957549567614692010-01-01T20:04:00.005-06:002010-01-02T02:05:00.672-06:00New Year's 2010<object width="400" height="265"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8495400&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8495400&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="265"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/8495400">New Year's 2010</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2436023">rebekah romney</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br />**Brought to you by the lovely <a href="http://rebekahromney.blogspot.com/">Rebekah</a> of <a href="http://rebekahromney.blogspot.com/">Monkey City</a>.lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-13463973056544545832009-12-31T00:19:00.003-06:002009-12-31T00:28:43.322-06:00Senior moments<div align="center">One of the best things about working with people with Alzheimer's is that you never know what you're going to get when you show up in the morning, so it's always exciting. Sometimes I'll have a cute little grandma give me a hug and tell me I'm an angel and then turn around 20 minutes later and say "Help me break this window or I will kill you" (just happened 2 days ago)- only to come back in another 15 minutes and say hello with no recollection. Needless to say, it provides for a lot of laughs. </div><div align="center">One of my favorite old ladies is the grumpiest lady in the whole community, but I just can't help but love her. Today, she had me in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">stitches</span>.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><strong>Me</strong> (as I walk by her in the hallway): Good morning!</div><div align="center"><strong>Old lady</strong>: Shut up.</div><div align="center"><strong>Me</strong>: Did you just tell me to shut up?</div><div align="center"><strong>Old lady</strong>: No, I said "Have a nice day."</div><div align="center"><strong>Me</strong>: Oh, that's what I thought. (And then I gave her a big hug)</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-2400414964690849762009-12-28T23:41:00.003-06:002009-12-28T23:54:24.518-06:00Utahans love terms of endearment<div align="center">Call me crazy, but I think terms of endearment (i.e. sweetie, honey, sugar, etc.) are supposed to be used with people that are dear to you, not by the man at the Taco Bell drive through. "Here's your taco. Have a great night sweetie." What? Did he just call me sweetie? For all he knows I'm not sweet at all.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Okay, okay, I don't really care that much. Maybe it stems from the fact that I'm not super comfortable using terms of endearment. I once had a boyfriend that told me that this bothered him. True story. Maybe I'll make that one of my 2010 goals "Use more terms of endearment". Then I'll be a true <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Utahan</span>, darling.</div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803918296290575329.post-71526631512355350872009-12-18T02:18:00.003-06:002009-12-18T02:27:36.263-06:00I forgot what it feels like to be warm.<div align="center"> Luckily I'm headed to Southern CA for a reminder. Can't wait to catch some rays (I'm in serious need of some Vitamin D- and a tan). While the sun will be nice, the real highlight will be catching up with these lovely ladies. High school flashbacks, here I come!<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416489345249756834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7M1leCIrnWOb7nr6t8PBU7awYfy-XfjVuBLWHP-IXiLl7pL5PeCbiKa-uFWlK195nJ8mXcKViD7WN759Ua3wtWusgR68mqjUB-ZbZDqyNBZv9GQQFr7ylZ8UtPAQa4BCVWwLOXOoZ2YA/s320/IMG_2128.JPG" /></div>lindsay larkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405555413795064497noreply@blogger.com1