Cousin!

Several people asked me to post about embarrassing moments. Well, I'm sorry-but I just don't have any. I do ridiculous things on a regular basis so that embarrassing moments are all just blended into one big, fuzzy conglomeration of humiliation. I can tell you about two moments in my life that were particularly humiliating. They were both my cousin's fault. You remember the one I waited to get baptized with? We'll call her Sara. Cuz that's her name---except I just call her Cousin. Well, we did a lot of things together; wear matching outfits, play and coach soccer, take flute lessons, take ballet (actually, that could TOTALLY count as an embarrassing moment since we were kind of awful)...anyway, we spent lots of time together.

Well, way back in the day, she lived in a little town in Wyoming. We're talking 500 population little. I used to go up and stay with her family for a week or so during the summer. One day, we were riding bikes home from the post office and racing---and I got really far ahead and was totally winning. Well, she was jealous (I think). So, when it came time to turn onto her street (the one and only turn in the 30 second ride home) she turned and just let me go right on ahead. And get TOTALLY lost! In this little town. Now, maybe I should've been bright enough to not get lost---but I kind of have the worst sense of direction in the whole entire world. So there I am, 4 years old, totally lost. Maybe I cried a little bit. When I found my way back to her house----five minutes later---they hadn't even missed me! It was like it was no big deal that I got lost and almost disappeared. My pride was wounded sufficiently.

Then there was the time I was supposed to take the trash out at their house. It was Sara's job to tell me where the garbage can was. Well, her being so helpful and all, she took me outside and vaguely pointed in front of her and said, "It's behind that tree." There was a very tiny tree (as in 2 feet tall) right in front of where she pointed, and a nice little flower pot right behind it. So, I emptied all the garbages into that pot. And no, it was not nearly big enough to hold it all. However, about 50 feet away was a large pine tree and a big dumpster hidden behind it. Apparently that was where the trash went. Oops. My only consolation in this was that Sara got in trouble for not showing me where to go---and I was not blamed for being too dense to think a pot was not the garbage can. And also, my aunt cleaned it up instead of me. Maybe she felt bad that she didn't miss me when I got lost.

So, in an effort to get Sara back for humiliating me, I'm posting the picture we had taken together when we were 16. I'm not sure why this picture was taken, or why we weren't allowed to smile and be normal teenagers in it instead of trying to look "contemplative." We both kind of hate this picture---but she hates it worse. So this is to get her back.

Goal!

Rychelle asked me to post pictures of "hot soccer dudes." Well really-how could I say no to that? Not everyone is aware of how awesome soccer really is---but if you see pictures of good-looking soccer players, maybe you'll be more inclined to appreciate the sport, no?

Frankie Hejduk---maybe not the best looking player. But his skill and 'don't mess with me' attitude make him all kinds of attractive.

Pat Noonan--you can tell just by looking at him that he's just a solid guy. I like that.

Brian McBride---my all-time favorite player ever! He met his wife when she came to one of his games and stayed to get his autograph. Awesome.

John O'Brien. Curly hair+red hair+soccer player=three of my biggest weaknesses.

Bobby Convey-the worst thing about him is he's off playing in Europe and I can't watch him as much.

Josh Wolfe---not much to say other than he's really hot, right? The guy in profile behind him is Eddie Pope---best defender ever and another of my favorites.


And here are some boys I've been privileged enough to actually play with.
My very first soccer team---I know it's kind blurry (my scanning skills are lacking), but if I have to point out which one I am we're not friends anymore.

One of my first BYU co-ed teams. I played with some of the people on this team for nearly 4 years.

The best team ever; Flava of Love. Yes, our team was named after a VH1 Reality Show. And we rocked---and took home the BYU Intramural t-shirt.

The Third

*Um, maybe I got a little wordy on this post. Just a heads up. I mean, I thought it was interesting...but that's cuz it was about me. *

Mmkay. I'm answering comments today fromCa-Joh who asked a few questions which were mostly thought provoking. Much like his blog. Thanks for that, Ca-Joh. Here goes:

Life's journey… how did you get to where you are now, and where do you want to go next. Is it completely wrong that I'm not quite sure how to answer that? My life has been much like my childhood---pretty great. I always knew what I wanted and since it wasn't TOO difficult or demanding---I managed to pretty much get it. Minus the part where I thought I'd be happily married at this point in my life... Hmm. When it was time to apply for school, my parents said I could go anywhere I wanted as long as I lived at home (don't worry---that was just for a semester---then I ran off to Nauvoo for a few months). Well, that worked out well since all I ever wanted to do was go to BYU (cuz that's where nearly every person in my ENTIRE extended family went/goes/will go). The only problem with that was that I went to BYU with every expectation of getting married before I left. Yes, I'll admit it. I fit the stereotypical BYU co-ed exactly. And I'm totally okay with that. I'm Utah Valley bred and it's all I'll ever be:) Anyway, I got to BYU and about a semester or two in I had to figure out what exactly I was doing there....besides finding a husband. Right. So I majored in American Studies---cuz I love American history. I did a semester "in-broad" at Nauvoo which was quite possibly the funnest/best/wonderfulest thing I ever did. I could probly write a million posts on that subject alone! I graduated very much single from BYU....now what? Well, why not sojourn for a year in Arizona. So I did. It was hot there. I like the heat. But I missed my family...so I came back. And now here I am----blogging about randomness on a frequent basis. And as far as where I want to go next....? Not sure. I'm happy where I am and my goal is just to keep being happy.

Barbaloot… where did you get such a clever nickname and do you have others that can be mentioned as well. I can't quite trace the whole naming process at this point. Basically, my brothers have a large amount of nick-names for me; some flattering, some not so much. One of them is Barbaloot Suit---which was an evolution from Barbala...which is maybe how my Chinese sister-in-law pronounces my name. Anyway, my nephew caught on to Barbaloot and it's kind of the cutest thing in the world when he calls me that. So that's my name:) As far as do I have any other nick-names...sometimes my brother calls me Babar the Elephant. Sweet, right? There's Barbie, of course. Some people I play soccer with refer to me as The Captain---cuz I probly told them to. Cuz I was the Captain. And I subscribed to a magazine at one point under the title Squadron Leader. Then changed it to Commodore. It's currently Admiral. And I made my roommate refer to my by those titles. Kind of sounds like I have a Napoleon complex, no? I don't. Swear.

Why do you write… pretty self explanatory, but it is always interesting to know why people choose to write and why they choose this medium known as blogging to do so. I just write for fun. It started when I was in my sojourn to Arizona and felt the need to talk about silly, random things and thought a blog would be a fun place to do it. I knew a few people that had one...and I enjoyed reading them so I made my own. It was just close friends and family reading for almost a year. Then, one day someone I have never met in real life but hope I get to someday, commented on my blog---and I was launched into the massive, addicting blog community from there.

Jokes… know any good jokes— now's the time to tell. Well, this video is possibly my favorite joke in the entire world. Maybe I'm ridiculously immature, but I kind of love it so very much.

K-I know that was real long. Thanks for reading it...if you really did. I promise the next post will have less words and more pictures.

Interruption

Okay, so nobody asked what my plans were for Saturday, May 23rd, but I'm telling you what I did anyway. The five gorgeous girls in this picture are my nieces and they were all baptized together on Saturday.
The oldest one turned 8 just six months ago and she waited for the other girls to turn 8 so they could all be baptized together. I hope their moms don't mind me putting a picture of them on my blog...but since they don't read my blog, I'm not gonna bother asking. The girls were all so excited to be doing this together. When I was 8, I waited two months for my cousin's birthday so we could be baptized together as well and it is still a great memory for me. I hope they always remember this day and have good memories from it.

It was a wonderful event and I had a lot of fun spending time with family. This is a picture of me with my 13 and 11 year old nieces---that are taller than me. Not cool. But hey, maybe when they grow out of those dresses they'll hand them down to me cuz I thought they were really cute and I want one, too.

Zwei

The continuation of installments comes this time for Camille who said: I would like to know more about the REAL Barbaloot, I want the neety greety. Please expand on what life was for little baby Barbaloot, what obstacles in life she had to face (ex. club foot, cleft pallate, speach impendiment, narcisism, klepto, double chin, flabby torso, school nerd, etc.) to become the Barbaloot we all love and adore.

The REAL Barbaloot, eh? Well, life for myself as a small child was basically pretty great. I am the twelfth of twelve children and the only girl. Suffice it to say I was more than a small surprise. My parents had just built a new home with a blue room for me to move into with my older brother. My name was going to be James Russell. My parents were never going to have to buy clothes for me cuz they already had more than enough. But rather than a Y chromosome, I miraculously got two X's.

I was born in the early morning, and once my dad was sure I was safe and sound he headed off to the nearest store and waited for it to open so he would be the one to buy me my first dress. Is it just me, or is that kind of the cutest story ever? And it just went crazy from there. I wore nothing BUT dresses for the first six years of my life. Serioulsy. I was even used as the introduction for a modesty talk in General Conference. Yep, I'm famous like that. Then one day I came home from school with a note from my teacher asking my mom to please let me wear pants or I wouldn't be able to play the games I liked at recess. Because, despite the fact that I wore loads of dresses, thought my middle name was Princess (seriously, till I was 5) and the go-to present for me from anyone was a doll---I liked to play FUN games. My favorite was a game my brothers invented where two people would get the biggest couch cushion they could find and run straight at each other trying to knock the other one down. Or the sledding game we played where one person tried to sled down the hill with two others coming from the side to tackle them. Fairly certain that game resulted in more than one nose-bleed.

As far as what obstacles I had to face, I thought about telling you how I overcame my narcissism, but I think having a blog is proof enough that I'm still not cured. Or, I thought of providing some anecdotes to illustrate the complete nerdiness that was myself as a child; like, going to the first day of school 30 minutes early (that's me being 100% alone in the Kindergarten classroom in my ABC dress...even the teacher wasn't there yet!) or being 1 of 6 kids in the ENTIRE school that was not punished for participating in the massive snowball fight, or how I have glasses and allergies which is HUGE nerd alert...but I think I've already waxed too loquacious for one post. Can anyone top those nerd stories?

Installment the First

Thanks and thanks again to everyone who suggested/asked/gave ideas. If you haven't gotten a chance to provide your own ideas, don't fret. You still can. I'll happily take them in as I don't relish the thought of blogger block again. Since the two first questions asked were of vital importance, I think it's a good thing I've decided to respond the comments in the order the appeared in my box.

Before we get to those---did anyone else love Ty Murray as much as I did? I mean, I'm okay with him being voted off last night cuz he never could figure out how to shake those hips, but I think he was just the perfect example of being both masculin and gentlemanly.

Melissa asked: If you were stranded - not an island in the middle of the ocean or anything, let's say you're stranded in the walmart parking lot in New Hampshire perhaps - and the only way to survive was to do some sort of ritualistic dance (that probably involved a lot of hopping and arm flapping) for some unknown reason -other than it would save you, which is the biggy here- would you do it? Keeping in mind that the walmart parking lot of New Hampshire town is probably just as crowded as any other walmart parking lot and therefore your dancing will probably be seen by lots of people (and security cameras.)

Well Melissa, if it were a New Hampshire parking lot, then yes. Heck yes. (I would probly look somewhat like the picture on the left.) You never know; the Gutzman's might find me and graciously take me to Dr. Marvin's vacation home where he would let me borrow his tooth brush and wear his pajamas. However, if it were some parking lot in a small southern town, then I'd probly surreptitiously move into the Wal-Mart where I would attract the attention of the local mysterious, yet strangely attractive, librarian and he would eventually agree to act as father to my illegitimate child.

And then we had Kristina who asked: If your ex-best friend tried to kill you, is it OK to punch him in the face until you break his nose, if your name is something like Mack Dauer?
Oh, it is most definitely okay. Now, if your name is Algernon, Hortencia or something like Frail...then I would advise against physical altercations in general and punching specifically.

BONUS: We have a celebrity question! It comes from John I-don't-know-your-last-name-and-really-don't-care-to AKA I've-never-seen-your-show-but-I'm-pretty-sure-you're-a-tool. Question: How can I ensure my kids will undergo life-long therapy sessions leaving them in massive debt?
Answer: Well John, it's simple. First, prostitute them to the media leaving them to constantly wonder if their worth is based on who they are as a person, or how much money they make per appearance. Second, become involved in an affair when you know PERFECTLY well that cameras are always on you, you will get caught, and everyone will know about it. Best of luck to you.

Stay tuned for upcoming installments!

Remember When I Used to Blog?

Yeah. I remember that, too. And then one day, I ran out of things to blog about. Bummer. If you have questions, topics, suggestions etc. feel free to send them my way as I could use them. I'm an open book. Or maybe a semi-open book. Keep in mind that this is a family blog. And by that, I mean my family (parents, siblings, cousins...) reads this and I will be disinclined to acquiesce to any request that could be incriminating. Incriminating about me, I mean. I'm happy to incriminate others if that's what it takes.