Soccer Game Water Break

Enter the caption contest now! It’s so exciting isn’t it? If you need the rules for this supposed-to-be-weekly contest, click here: Caption Contest Rules Shmules.

Last Contest’s Winner: Mom! Any time there’s a shout out to that little poodle we once owned, there’s a really good chance of winning. High five for that. And thanks for all of the help you’ve given lately Mom. You’re the bestest, hug.

A List of Life Right NOW

  1. Listening to a Frank Vignola station on Pandora and it reminds me of the night in Harrisburg, PA when a house up the street from where I was had a jazz band playing: a humid summer night, eating dinner on the lawn with friends, listening to live jazz music from somewhere over the fence, but not nearly as relaxed as I am right now.
  2. Despite the lingering sickness, I enjoyed playing some soccer tonight, spending time with my friends.
  3. Just read the last 100 pages of The Help so I’m finished with it for my book group tomorrow; I definitely recommend it if you haven’t already read it.
  4. Enjoyed the flowers in my front room that came from my hot boyfriend.
  5. Enjoyed rereading the cards that came with them.
  6. Made myself a grilled bacon, tomato and cheese sandwich, which I washed down with some apple juice; I declared the meal to be yummy.
  7. Thought about getting some laundry done; didn’t do any of it.
  8. About to turn the “smoke machine” on and go to bed… apparently sleeping with a humidifier on is supposed to help a sore throat… oh and it does, but this one also comes with a blue “night light” which makes my bedroom feel like a rave. Party on and good night!

There IS Such Thing as Too Much Soccer

Let me share with you a quick summary of the schedule that I followed on Saturday.

1:00 a.m. Get home from bike ride to Arts Fest and Gateway for movie, and shortly fall asleep in my contacts.
6:30 a.m. Alarm wakes me up.
6:50 a.m. Leave house mostly dressed in soccer gear to drive to West Jordan and finish getting dressed on the freeway (thank you cruise control, I am safe).
7:20 a.m. Arrive at soccer fields, put on shinguards, wonder why my contacts are blurry.
7:35 a.m. Soccer game begins; we are very tired, but manage to win 3-2 and somehow my jersey and shorts have dirt on front and back.
9:30 a.m. Watch our division 2 team play the game after ours (I’m on the division 1 team and we all try and cheer for each other); realize that I have dirt in my hair and under the elastic waist band of my shorts.
11:30 a.m. Leave the soccer fields.
12:00 p.m. Wash off all of the dirt.
12:35 p.m. Arrive at Mick and Tracy’s to watch the sad, sad U.S. vs Ghana World Cup Game… sad.
3:00 p.m. Fall asleep on the couch in their basement.
3:30 p.m. Wake up; play with kids, talk to siblings and Mom.
5:30 p.m. Make a trip to REI with Maren.
6:30 p.m. Get home and change back into soccer clothes.
6:40 p.m. Go to Cami’s “birthday bash.”
7:30 p.m. Leave the bash to drive to indoor soccer.
7:40 p.m. Arrive at soccer to learn that all of the games are 40 minutes behind because of a major injury in a previous game.
8:50 p.m. Finally start playing my game originally scheduled for 8:10 p.m.
9:50 p.m. Go to Tony’s Bar for Cirbie’s birthday party.
11:00 p.m. Leave Tony’s Bar to drive back to indoor soccer.
11:20 p.m. Play soccer game that was originally scheduled for 10:40 p.m.
12:10 a.m. Play fourth soccer game of the day that was originally scheduled for 11:30 p.m.
1:00 a.m. Leave indoor soccer to go home, shower and go to bed.

I want you to know that I have come to the realization that I am on too many soccer teams. This is a very sad thing for me to admit because I play soccer with all of my friends. I am addicted to the social aspect of it. Thankfully, my body is happy for the cardio although it is unhappy for the sore muscles.

I told one of my friends that I won’t be playing with her for the next indoor soccer session. It was a sad conversation for both of us but it had to be done. My back and toe have since thanked me. I’m glad they did because I did it for them, not for me.

I am in a group on Facebook. It’s called “I Can’t I Have Soccer.”

The end.

What I Learned From Skinning My Leg

I scrapped up my leg in my soccer game last Friday night. In the words of Maren, I “grated [my] cottage cheese.” It wasn’t a very pretty sight and it was my own fault for sliding on the turf. But guess what? We won. And we didn’t just barely beat Park City. We beat them 4-1. After losing to them earlier this season in a shootout, that was a much better outcome. I was happy for it. Despite the scrapped up leg. Winning makes me happy. And winning with my team, who has so uch fun playing they laugh the entire game, makes me even happier.

The greatest lessons I’ve learned in my life so far have left me bruised, scraped, and broken. At the time, it’s terrible. It hurts to shower, your shorts stick to the broken skin, and you probably get down on yourself for making the decision to hurt yourself in the first place.

But then, you are granted hindsight.

What a gift, right?

And with hindsight, I can see that the wound was because of my own hustle. And because of my own hustle, I felt good about the game I played and helped set my sister up for several goals. The scrape isn’t so bad anymore.
That’s why I wouldn’t take anything back.

I wouldn’t take back the relationships that left one of us bruised.

I wouldn’t take back the struggles in some of my college classes.

I wouldn’t take back the summer spent in Pennsylvania.

I wouldn’t take back the nights in high school I would walk around the block, waiting for the moon to set.

I wouldn’t take back the time I crashed my bike delivering newspapers in the snow, or the time I peed my pants camping because I refused to use the outhouse, or the lessons I learned about how me and Ambien don’t mix, or even the afternoon that I learned I didn’t make the Madrigals choir and was instead in women’s chorus. I LOVED women’s chorus.

When I sat the bench on the soccer team in high school, it just made me want to succeed in basketball more.

When I barely graduated with my bachelor’s, it made me want to graduate with honors for my master’s.

When I didn’t succeed like I’d imagined myself, it made me want to work on becoming a better person with the time I have right now to invest in ME.

That’s a long list and I know I got carried away, but do you think I’m right? Have you been bruised and it hurt at the time, but then, God gave you hindsight and you realized, if you ate more bananas, you wouldn’t bruise so easily?

I’m Healed… Kind Of

It’s been six weeks.

That’s a long time to baby an ankle.

Let me give you some really good advice: do NOT sprain your ankle.

I’m not talking about just rolling it, or twisting it so it hurts a little. I’m talking about the type of sprain where you can’t even put weight on it for hours, where it swells up like a golf ball instantly and where the bruising drains into your toes and runs up your shin, where you can’t balance on it even with a brace AND shoe on, and where you cut your other leg shaving because you foolishly tried to balance on the bad leg in the shower. Don’t do that.

It’s frustrating that after six LONG weeks (they’re never short weeks when you can’t do what you love), my ankle still hurts. It’s also still swollen. But it’s been SIX weeks and do you know what that means?

I can play soccer again.

The doctor said so.

So I will wrap it, put on a brace and go running tonight because if I’m REALLY out of shape (instead of just sort of), I will be worthless in my game this Saturday morning.

Aren’t you excited for me?

I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So much so, I just used THIRTEEN exclamation points. That’s a lot for a girl that hardly uses any because excessive exclamation points are the bane of my existence (as are LOLs).*

*Did you know that there’s a Greasemonkey script that dumps extra exclamation points that might appear on websites? Yeah, I know, it’s totally nerdy that I know that, but also grammatically COOL that I do.

Weekend Highlights – Late Night Movies, Late Night Soccer and Nothing Early Morning

Friday: I survived work. It was one of those weeks where this was a MIGHTY accomplishment. Go me. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do that night, though. There had been a possibility of a gaggle of girls at my place, but that fell through because of my inability to actually call anyone. I blame that on my phone dying and the need to break in my new phone before making massive amounts of phone calls. Then there was a possibility of a sleepover with the nieces, but that also fell through. It was also possible that I would watch Jarv’s and Jennie’s kids for them, but they recruited Laina to help out (who has WAY more patience than I do so I’m sure none of the kids were sent to sit in the corner in the garage for time out—wait, I would NEVER do that; they just sit in the corner of the LAUNDRY room, better).

Instead, I coerced my coworker to bring her HUGE deli sandwich left over from lunch over so we could save money on dinner. She came with her daughter who gave the cats a workout chasing after toys. She also took videos on her mom’s cell phone of my ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS cats playing with these toys and sent them to my phone. Cute, right?

After they left, I sat around for a while watching TV and could have taken the opportunity to go to bed early, but that right there would be proof enough that THE END OF DAYS WERE NEAR. Instead, I crashed the little party at Pete’s and G’s where I remembered that I’m mad at my brother for moving out of state and taking his wife with him. Grrr. We semi-watched Enchanted, but I kept on getting up to go and check out things like Pete’s new GPS device, Pete’s and G’s new fireplace, and of course to discuss finances with Pete.

I got home late. (Surprise.)

Saturday: I got up around 9:30, had some quick breakfast and then dressed up for Laurie’s funeral. It was good to see so many people there to pay her respect and offer support to her family. Also, I had NO clue that this friend of mine had an affinity for mooning people. I think if I had found that out while she was still alive, I probably would have found out by experiencing it. The stories were funny enough.

After the funeral: errands. Being an adult is über exciting.

Then it was off to Mick and Tracy’s to watch their brood of five. After pizza, a movie and starting a rock band which performed on Emma’s bed, they all fell asleep just in time for my Mom to come and relieve me at 11:00 p.m. to race to my soccer game.

I LOVE the late, late soccer games. If I didn’t have to sleep, I would run around ALL NIGHT LONG because I have the energy to do it. (Except that lately, my lungs haven’t been cooperating so well, but oh well. Must be getting OLD.) We crushed the other team and I had two easy goals in the process. Thanks Mom for your help!

Sunday: I have my new ward so FOOLED. They think I can sing. Well, okay, I CAN sing, but that really just involves me being able to read music and sing on tune. That doesn’t say anything about the tone of my voice. I AM NOT A SOLOIST. And YET… I am singing a solo next week in church. Permission to laugh now. I know, seriously. I fit just fine in a choir, but our ward choir director asked me to sing the last line of the hymn ALL BY MYSELF. I said sure, because, hey maybe somebody will come up and talk to me afterwards.

Somebody: “That sure was brave of you to sing that solo.”

Me: “Why thank you.”

Somebody: “I hope they don’t ask you to do it again. But it WAS brave.”

Me: “Right… what’s your name?”

After church, it was dinner at the parents’ and a little celebration for Thane’s birthday. This is my cool little brother who used to wear TONS of BYU paraphernalia. That used to be our bond—the cougar fans in the Campbell clan. But his blood eventually turned red and we only had our baby pictures left to bond (and fight) over. So instead, he let me play soccer with him. I suddenly realized that my cool brother was also NICE because he was willing to put up with me on the field.

We then finished out the weekend by watching Step Up 2 at Ster’s. Talk about QUALITY entertainment.

I went home that night and had an Epsom salt bath while I drank chamomile tea and read a book. I AM LIVING THE LIFE.

I had NO idea… I thought they were just stretching

Belgium "stretching"You might think that this is a picture of the Belgium men’s soccer team stretching. You MIGHT. But you’d be totally wrong.

This is actually a picture of the Belgium men’s soccer squad taking a team BATHROOM BREAK.



That’s what I learned last night. The conversation went something like this:

Mick: “Abe had to pee when he was up to bat at his last tee-ball game.”

This is where Mick stands up and mimics Abe (who is five-years-old): holding the bat, holding himself, holding the bat again, and back to holding himself.

Mick: He hit the ball this time, Nice! Then after he ran the bases–because my boy does not get off first base to go potty–I took him over to the port-a-potty and had to wait in line.

This is where the conversation started wandering off into the topics of how men can pee wherever. Suddenly, Jarv jumps in…

Jarv: That’s why you have him go and “stretch.”

Oh yeah, they ALL do it. Ask the men in your life. Ask them this: “Hi man in my life. Have you ever gone down on one knee (many may now be afraid about where this conversation is leading at this point) to stretch in order to relieve yourself?” If they don’t understand you, try this: “Hey you, have you ever peed down your knee on a soccer field?” They can commit to this: YES. I even asked Thane.

Thane: I did it last week.

Thane is not a five-year-old.

Last time I peed in a field, it required a bit more than just going down on one knee.

The procrastination queen

I am currently trying to complete finals for my Tech Writing graduate classes. This requires designing a brochure for an imaginary store, Hot Tootsies (no, I did not pick the name), and writing a paper on how to design for the web for the other class. Both are due today. Ask me if they’re done.

Ha, clearly, you don’t know me. They’re not done. (If you guessed correctly that they weren’t even close to complete, you deserve a gold star, but I’ll only give you one for your forehead if you tell me that you guessed correctly.)

Did I do my homework over the weekend? Friday night there was a very important fashion show and movie to go to after going to the gym and doing some furniture shopping. Saturday , there was the first soccer game in MONTHS! that I had to attempt to play in followed by setting up a hammock in the backyard (I fell off), filling the hot tub, going to lunch with James, Maren, Kasi and Martha, hitting up the gym with Pete and James, more furniture shopping–this time with mom, then helping out at Mick and Tracy’s with their brood of kids including the newborn, Kate. Sunday was busy with accompanying my mom (she’s a mean violinist) in a neighboring ward in the morning, then going to my block of church meetings, followed by dinner with loads of family, selling my funds to pay for my condo (Pete helped me out), and then of course we needed to test out the hot tub now that it had warmed up.

Sunday night at 10:30, I finally started on my finals. Who thinks they can procrastinate better than me? Who?