Tuesday, August 24, 2010


I've never been cool.  I mean, if I go into a cool store like Abercrombie or The Buckle (those are cool stores, right?), I feel like an impostor.  I've always been conservative, I wore dresses to school, and I really wish the zippers on my jeans were longer.  In high school, a cool car was a Toyota 4x4 or a Jeep Cherokee.

I drove a pale yellow, 1984 Ford 12-seater van which, through a series of unfortunate events, reeked of rotten milk and gasoline.  And, oh yeah, had a bullet hole in the back.

At a time when this hair was cool,

I am sorry to say, I had a bit of a mullet.  You are wishing I had a scanner, aren't you?

Last week was a family reunion on my husband's side.  Even now, as a grown-up, I am not cool.  Even as they included me in their activities, I felt like maybe I wasn't quite qualified to be there.  I mean, look at these people.


I mean . . . come on.  Wasn't even trying.

Honestly people, cool with a kid pack.

And the kids are cool.

Do you see the problem here?  Freaking darling!

Of course, there is Grandpa.  Maybe I'll just stand by him.  (:

But, really, even he is cool--check out the hat.  

I had a great time--all of us did.

Thanks for letting me sit at the cool kids' table!

That was pretty cool.


  1. WHAT.....all this time Justin's family was COOL!?!

    I liked hanging out with him as a kid because I always felt like he and his family were at least as DORKY as I was (if not MORE so).

    Or wait a second what if Justin was actually quite cool and I was the dorkier one.....Oh, Man my whole childhood is crumbling around me.....

  2. I have to say, I love this post. I love that cool family! Especially that cool Grandpa! (Remind me to tell you sometime about the time I mistook Bishop S for Spencer W. Kimball...)

    Okay, no, I'll tell you now. I was like 5 years old. Bishop S was our bishop, and just before Sacrament meeting started, he stepped into our pew to adjust the thermostat on the wall. He was kind of bald and kind of short (leave out those details if you ever tell him this, okay?) and President Kimball, the prophet at the time, was kind of bald and kind of short. Fully thinking the prophet had just stepped into our pew, I leaned over and whispered to my dad, "He's a special guy, right Dad?" To which, of course my father answered in the affirmative... "Cool," I thought. (And fitting to this post, no?)