My best shots

Yep, if you click here you will see some of my best photos. Enjoy.

Give me a miniature horse & I give you my heart

I want to get one of these and keep it in my back yard. 

I want to get this miniature horse fitted with a saddle and put a baby doll on its back ...

Maybe this is a waste of blog space but I want one of these. I honestly didn't know they really existed. I wasn't in to horses because they're so complicated -- even though I've always wanted to ride one, just once, for the experience.

But yes, these are adorable. You could totally keep a miniature horse. Yes I do.

Passing out at work is fun to do

Yawn. Work was dragging the other day. I went in at 7 a.m. and I didn't go to bed till 3 the night before. How do I make the time pass by? Well the word "pass" definitely factored into how work "passed" by last Friday.

Are you looking for a way to make your job more interesting? Are you trying to make the time fly while you sit at your desk job? Are you looking to make an impression as well? Looking to get noticed at work? I have found a way to make all these things happen. All you need is a bathroom floor.

I was sitting at my desk that afternoon and suddenly felt the need to vomit. I'm a polite soul and so I jumped from my desk and ran to the bathroom. Actually, I didn't run, I stumbled, while holding onto various objects to keep me from falling.

Everything was spinning. I walked into the bathroom. My cheek smacked into a stall door, I slid to the floor. I felt like dying, I thought I was dying.

I was so hot, so nauseous and I was completely deaf. I put my head between my legs . . . didn't work; its not a ladylike position, it wouldn't work. And so I rolled to my right and lay curled up on the floor.

I was actually starting to feel better, the cold floor was making the sweat cool, I was thinking about stretching out but my peace was interrupted by a couple women eager to pee -- women are always peeing and so the bathroom is always occupied.

"Is she ok" said one woman to another (of course, as women we like to pee in pairs). This was lucky for me because as they assisted me to my feet, it required the strength of two.

As soon as I stood up I was assaulted with that feeling of death again. My deafness was replaced with blindness. I couldn't see. They walked me over to a couch. The walk seemed to last forever and by the time they sat me down I felt death knocking on heaven's door--cause that’s where I'm going. The couch felt amazing, I didn't know there were couches, always a good thing to learn. Maybe passing out was worth it?

I now knew where I could take a nap . . . oh and EVERYONE now knew who the New Media intern was. I had found a way to be noticed. I always thought hard work and innovation were good ways to get noticed but apparently laying on the bathroom floor can get you places too.

Somewhere among my dying thoughts I had the presence of mind to be embarrassed; the attention was embarrassing, the weakness was embarrassing, all of it was very embarrassing; especially, when they asked me if I was pregnant.

They were pushing to call an ambulance but I assured them I would go to a doctor immediately. I called my boyfriend; he picked me up, took me home and I slept for a few hours. I was a little loopy the rest of the night but basically fine.

So, if you want to get noticed at work, if you want to make thing more interesting then just go pass out on your bathroom floor, it worked for me.

My blank pages are getting some color

So, this weekend has lots of promise. Erin Topper is coming to visit and spend the weekend with me. Brandon's son Michael will be here this weekend. Madison and her Fiancé, Israel will be here too.

Lots of things planned including a possible trip to the Festival of Colors on Saturday, maybe a trip to the Salt Lake and a trip to Temple Square.

Next weekend hold promise too. I will be working Saturday but Sunday I landed tickets to the afternoon session of GENERAL Conference for Brandon and me. I am super stoked; although, he may not feel that way. Also, Madison is having an engagement party Friday night that Brandon and I will most likely be attending.

And then, the Sunday after this I will be in Maryland for a day and then North Carolina for Madison's wedding. After all this things will slow down but its all pretty exciting.

Looks like I have plans for the immediate future and some plans for a more distant future. I will be going home for July, coming back to SLC in August and may go on a road trip to either California or Las Vegas and then I will start graduate school at BYU, which will be my life for the next two years.

So, there you have it. I finally have a few things to look forward to. The pages of my future have been water colored; they're no longer as blank as they once were.

Get back on that horse, fool.

I admire those that have addictions but still keep trying even though they are constantly assaulted by these addictions, assaulted by others' judgments.

I fall; I get my act together; I climb back on the horse, only to fall off, again. The person riding next to me doesn't fall or; at least, doesn't fall nearly as often as I do. I can't understand why they don't.

Is it because they're a better rider than me? Am I lacking somehow? Or is it something else? Sometimes it is the rider, but sometimes it’s the horse, sometimes it’s the environment surrounding the rider and the horse.

We can be no judge of what causes others to fall. While some ride upright, tall, in their saddle; there are those of us that find our horses trotting too slowly, shaking us off or galloping quickly in the wrong direction.

We can't understand what obstacles the rider deals with. I look at friends, I look at siblings, I look at past relationships and I remember seeing them fall.

At first, their reasons for falling were ridiculous to me. Smoking? Why did they start in the first place? Drinking? Don't they know any better? Pornography? Why would you look at such things?

But then, with age and time, I began to fall myself. I fell harder and more frequently. Oftentimes I fell for the reasons that I had judged others so harshly on.

My horse hasn't been the best, my training has been a little lax and sometimes the grass covers an unforeseen hole on my path.

My point is that we don't know what others weaknesses feel like, we don't know what drives them to their decisions but all we can do is support, love, admire and respect them each time they fall and still get back up on their horses.

There are so many who fall and don't get back up. I admire those that fall, sometimes for the same reason every time and still get back on, still keep trying.

Radio LIVE ON!

While I own most of Jim Croce's music, it still gives me a thrill of excitement from my hip bones to the tips of my fingers when a song like, "Don't Mess Around with Jim" comes on the radio.

Some believe that the radio industry is dying but I think it is living and will continue to live. I-tunes, grooveshark, Pandora . . . all of those things are amazing, but in the end I prefer the random shuffle of music on the radio.

I like flipping the stations and either hearing a new song or flipping to an old song that has many memories for me.

My determination to hate SLC has died off

I've taken hardly any pictures since I have been in Utah. I've just been really busy and honestly, I was determined to hate Utah and so I felt no photos were necessary.

But Brandon took me to an area by the Great Salt Lake last night and I took some pretty neat photos with my little Cannon camera of the sunset. Wish I had grabbed the big SLR but the little Cannon (for what it is) did a pretty nice job.

Brandon has taken Sam's spot, while I am here in Utah, as my model, along with his dog Tucker. I guess these photos were really just for fun and to prove to myself that Utah isn't really that ugly (but the Salt Lake does smell . . . really, really bad).

I'm allergic to your PDA

I'm sensitive to your public displays of affections. I break out in a rash, a very contagious rash, and my nails start to grow at an incredibly fast rate. Ok this is not true but too much public affection is just disgusting.

I used to think I was sensitive because I wasn't getting any but I can get and get plenty of affection from my man.

My problem with couples is that they are so obsessed with each other that they can't see beyond the sphere of themselves.

I've noticed a decided selfishness and a grotesque increase in affectionate noises between loves who display just a little too much affection in public.

I don't mind holding hands, I don't mind even a kiss or some flirting but when company is present, please keep it to a minimum; especially, when the company is there to see them, communicate with them.

If they are dating that person, then they can spend tons of time doing those affectionate things, while I'm not around.

I mean, it's kind of like me having food on my table when a guest comes over and then eating that food and not offering them any of it. But not only do I withhold the food that they want but I also eat the food with as much gusto and noise as I possibly can make.

But, being etiquettly adept, you would offer me some of the food on your table when I came over. So, looking at this situation logically, just as you'd offer me the food, I should expect that you would share your man too, when you're so blatantly "eating" (aka kissing, rubbing,) him. So, if you want to make out in front of me or flirt in front of me, then you better not get upset when I try to get in on it.

Of course I would never really do this but too much PDA is uncomfortable, rude and inconsiderate.

So, get off your man when I come for a visit or don't get upset when I join in your fun.

Thats me in the background!

Ughhhhh, go Jimmer . . .

Ugh if I ever run into Jimmer Fridette, while at BYU, I am going to plant one on him -- and I'm not talking about my lips - - I'm talking about a fist, in his mouth. Actually, I may just kick him in the shin, maybe then I really wouldn't have to hear about him anymore.

Ok, so I don't really have any particular qualms with Jimmer. I guess its really not his fault that I see, hear, eat, drink his name everywhere -- he's practically being shoved down my throat.

It might be the fact that I'm interning with Deseret News or it might be the fact that I'm attending grad school at BYU in the fall, I'm really not sure which or if its either that factor into the constant assault on my ears with the name Jimmer, but I really think we need to give his name a break.

Why don't we try out a different name? How about Kaitlin Prettyman? That falls from the tongue rather nicely, wouldn't you say? I mean it’s a normal first name with a very attractive last name. And just as the last name is attractive, so are all the people that own this last name.

I think Jimmer's name could use a break. And if you don't want to use mine how about we use names like Gov. Gary Herbert who just helped pass a law making it even harder to access government documents, or how about Gaddaffi a man who is causing the deaths of thousands because he won't stand down as leader of Libya.

I don't know, should'nt we focus on more serious things than Jimmer Fredette and his girlfriend or that he didn't serve a mission or how great he shoots a basketball? But I am speaking blaspheme here, aren't I?

So, in order to preserve my name and life, I will end this post by saying, "Go Jimmer!" :P

Because of this I am beautiful

"Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake . . . shake your booty." Did I just quote this song? Why yes, I did. I have a booty to shake. Actually, I have quite the booty to shake.

I now begin to realize that the horrific monster that wondered the halls of high school and sought refuge in work at the office during college is no longer a monster. The monster is not a monster but a woman, an attractive woman at that.

I'm still startled when a seemingly attractive or even seemingly unattractive man says that I'm beautiful (I can be no judge, we all have our unique brand of "hot" "sexy" "beautiful" that we apply to the members of the opposite gender).

Bear in mind, I'm not talking about my Grandma anymore or the old guys in church; I used to get compliments from them all the time, back in the "ugly days". They were probably hallucinating from their meds or in my grandma's case, not wearing their glasses.

But now, men with good vision tell me I'm beautiful and I don't know what to think. I used to always think it was a ploy, an easy way to get in an average girl's pants. But now, now I don't know what to think.

I know we are all beautiful children of God, but I always thought I was the exception. I was the ugly duckling that would always be ugly. Something happened a long the way. I'm not ugly.

I still look in the mirror, I still see this chubby wannabe but at the same time I realize that I have a lot to offer.

But its more than just a butt, a chest, a waste-line, a decent wardrobe; I've developed a mind, an air of confidence. I'm a woman on a mission, no longer a girl with no ambition.

While I am still kind, while I still listen, I feel no shame in sharing my opinions, I feel no shame in sharing who I am really am. I hide behind no mask; I act how I want. I think this makes me beautiful, makes me desirable.

Really, I could only change so much physically. I think the true beauty is that I've become who I have wanted to be. While the refining process will never be finished, I still like who I am aspiring to be and because of this I am beautiful.

Super moon brings super feelings

Super full perigee moon this weekend. This will be the first in almost 20 years and there won't be another for almost 20 years. Do you know where I was the last time we had one of these?

I'm not really sure. I was 2-years-old. I was probably in Richmond, VA. Can I imagine where I will be for the next one? No idea.

I will probably be fatter, have more wrinkles. For all I know, I could be in a foreign country, covering a national crisis.

Maybe I will be barefoot, in the kitchen, with a bun in the oven -- and I'm not talking about a literal bun in an oven.

Will I be on my back, looking at the moon, surrounded by a passel of brats I call my children; or will I be in the arms of yet another lover; or will I be in Afghanistan, fearing for my life because the light of the moon exposes me to enemy eyes?

Maybe my imagination is getting away from me, but all these things could be possible . . . well kind of.

But my imagination is what comes to life when I look at the moon. Romance, mystery, atmosphere; the moon brings on so many feelings. A "super moon" will just intensify these feelings.

Wonder how crazy I will get?

Not much to say

There is so much I could say about this weekend. A lot of hurt. "My man" showed up Friday morning. He was great for about ten minutes and then that greatness came to an abrupt stop.

I found myself crying Friday night, in the park, by myself. I didn't need a lot of communication, a lot of hints to notice he'd pulled away. All the plans, the hopes I had for that weekend seemed to end. But while those ended, a lot of the insecurities and all the unknowing melted away. He made it easy to walk away.

But I felt as I had felt just a year ago. I used to walk in the cold, in the park, by myself and tear up. I was in love with a man that didn't love me back then. Of course he was just "first love" lameness but those always seem to sting the most, probably because they're the most embarrassing.

I never trusted this last one; I actually expected what was coming; he's done this to me plenty of times before. I guess, in the long run, I'm just thankful I never fell for him. I was always dating other guys while talking to him. Towards the end I felt torn. I just couldn't give him my all, and now I see it was for good reason. I would've dated a man with a lot of baggage. And while I was willing to accept that baggage as my own, maybe I am lucky I didn't. It would've been a heavy burden to shoulder.

At least I got to see the Briscoes and their cute kids! That weekend I realized that I missed the guy I'd left in Salt Lake City, the guy who treated me like a princess, the guy who was always giving, always wanted to make me happy.

I guess I have Matt to thank for helping to make me realize how much I missed my Salt Lake guy, Brandon. And while the relationship is still very confusing, and while I'm still struggling to understand if its right, I still feel its better than what flew to see me last week.

I think what upset me most was losing my scriptures. I'm highly upset about this. Those scriptures were amazing. I had so much highlighting and notes written in them. They will be highly missed.

And so, I could dwell on this creature, this confusing, selfish person that I pity more than anything else but instead I will think of happier things. I went on a picnic at the park a couple days ago, it was ideal. Made me smile :)

I'm just scared I'll reach for the wrong things or push away the right things. Ever feel this way? Its a common occurrence in my life.

The Weekend :P

Meh. There will be no photos.

THE weekend!

So, in case you don't know, this guy is coming to visit me tomorrow. This isn't your everyday visit either.

I felt that this is a pretty big deal and I should write about it, since he is flying from Washington to Utah, just to see me.

I feel special. I feel like really special. I feel so special I'm singing, right now. I'm feeling special and I am singing, at work. Ok, so I'm not really but I'm starting to get excited!

So excited! I've been waiting to go to Rexburg for months and I've been waiting to see this guy, Matthew Herman Breyman, for months, and now its all happening in one weekend.

My mind might explode. To hear what happens, read my blog on Monday! There will be photos too!

Nations under objectification

The Pope has released a new book about how violence should never be carried out in God's name, "Violence Never in God's Name."

How do you feel about this? Not the book, not the Pope, but the topic presented. Honestly, I've never put a lot of thought into this topic. I've heard it briefly discussed.

Practically speaking, we see examples of violence dictated by God through out the scriptures such as the killing of Laban by Nephi, the near sacrificing of Abraham's son, and the destruction of those that blasphemed against the Prophets and God.

But what about people who hijack planes and crash them into world trade centers, killing thousands of innocent people? They claim their actions are in the name of God; are they?

Do we, as members of the church, condone war? Do we believe its ok for us to kill others --even innocent civilians-- because we are protecting our country? Then again, when has President Thomas S. Monson ever openly condoned war?

What are we fighting for? It seems we fight for and over money, greed, power and corrupt leaders.

And how do we justify fighting for these things, how do we become so numb that we can take a gun, point it at a man and shoot him? I know how; we turn our "enemies" into objects by labeling them as "those Germans, those Chinese, those Koreans, those Libyans . . . those whites, those men, those Mormons, those Americans?"

We take the actions of a few corrupt leaders; a few corrupt dictators and we use that as ammo to destroy nations. Do we feel justified in killing and fighting because God has deemed it necessary or because we don't feel guilty killing people who are "not like us"?

Are we just watching out for our neighbor or are we butting in where we don't belong? Are we truly "just protecting our country" or are we the reason for these attacks. And are we not initiating attacks of our own?

I'm asking a lot of questions, using a lot of "quote marks" because I feel that we (I'm not just talking about Americans, I'm talking about our world and Nation) believe objectifying those who are "different" from us makes these brutal acts acceptable, its not because we feel zeal for God, feel an inspiration from God, or is it? You tell me.

We are taught to love one another. We aren't taught to just love Americans. And while we pick up guns and shoot someone in the name of liberty and freedom do we think about their liberty and freedom?

If only we could follow Christ and love all around us, but we've all become so twisted in the web of lies, deceit and greed that surround us that we can't grasp that all the people in this world are sons and daughters of God, just a we are

You ask me what my opinion is and I can't say that I really have one. I don't pretend to understand; maybe I don't want to understand. I simply read my scriptures, pray, try to follow the promptings of the Spirit, which lead me to men who truly have the Spirit, men who have a genuine love of all those around them.

Torn between two men

I must like causing myself unnecessary pain. I seem to have a unfailing tendency to involve myself with men that can't take me anywhere, nor do they plan to take me anywhere--to my benefit, they are hot

Recently I spent practically every night for four months talking on the phone to one man. A man who had attempted to date me before but he always failed because he couldn't let go of his ex-girlfriend.

Of course, I've been dating the whole time while I talked to him but nothing serious. But alas this leads to my dilemma. My friend, Taylor, whom I spent a majority of my time with for the past few months, has a Landlord.

This Landlord had been one of our friends through out our adventures together. Somewhere along the way we began liking each other. Actually I'm pretty sure he liked me from the start.

He was my first real valentine. It was a fun date. I felt special. He always has a way of making me feel special. He wants to do things for me. I can't help but soak it up a little. No one has ever wanted to do anything for me.

So, it would seem that this wouldn't be a problem, right? Why not just fall in love with him, date him, and marry him? It's not that easy. It never seems to be that easy with me. The Landlord, Brandon, is 30-years-old, divorced, lives in Utah and has an eight-year-old son. Not bad? I can handle those things but there's still Matt.

And so, of course, you are now asking, why not date Matt? Well, he's got a lot of addictions and a consistent inconsistency with women, which makes it hard for me to put my hand in his hand.

Complicated? Yes. Am I dating both? Yes. Should I be? No. Do I know what is right? Not really? Will I do what is right? Probably . . . not.