Spring Break Photos!!!
Exciting, I know!

Steve found this $100 bill in the empty Hofbrauhaus parking lot.


We made this quiche for the St. Patrick's Day breakfast at Natalie's house.


St. Paddy's Day with the girls @ Natalie's house


St. George Temple


with Shannon & Clark in St. George


Valley of Fire

Ah, Spring Break (yes, it's great and mighty magnitude warrants capitalization) has come and gone. Steve and I had some excellent adventures, including trips to Lake Mead, St. George, and Valley of Fire. We also spent more time than was necessary playing Guitar Hero, which came with rave reviews from the second grade boys in my class. We also cleaned a disgusting oven, made an impromptu Easter dinner, and discovered a dead bird under the tires of my boat trailer.

So even though I didn't have a "gone wild" adventure, I still had a productive and relaxing week off from work. If anything, it was a delightful preview for summer vacation.

It's finally here! SPRING BREAK!!!!!!

I can't believe it's March already. Right now- at this VERY moment- my high school reunion is going on. Too bad it costs $80. I'm a little sad, but I can't really justify spending $80 to make small talk with people a.) I still speak regularly with, b.) I keep in touch with via myspace/facebook/blogs, or c.) don't remember at all.

When I make it to the 20 year reunion, hopefully it will go something like this...

So you know how you're supposed to be there 45 minutes early before a flight? Well, I was there 43 minutes early. And that JUST WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH, was it, Delta?

They would not let me on the flight. "Seriously?" Yes, seriously, because I was a whopping ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SECONDS late.

"Surely they must have been joking."
No, Delta does not joke. Not only would they not allow me on the flight, they refused to send my luggage on a later flight, they refused to book me on a later flight, they refused to book me on a flight the next day, and they refused to give me a credit. I wasn't even asking for a refund, just a credit. A credit to be used at a later date, for crying out loud!

What really ticked me off was the way the ticketing people snickered at me when they said I couldn't get on the flight. They were downright guffawing. It was just rude. And when I asked if I could get on the flight without my luggage, sending my luggage on a later flight, they accused me of being a terrorist. I could have been trying to make it home for a funeral, for all they knew. Who's the real terrorist here?



This is practically unheard of on Southwest. I've leisurely rolled up to the gate thirty minutes early. No luggage? No problem! If my luggage didn't make the flight, they'd deliver it later or let me pick it up myself. If I had to reschedule, no worries. My Southwest flights easily translate into credits.

Oh Delta, you and your expensive flights, your oily pleather headrests, snooty flight crews, and HOSTILE ground crew. Why do you have to be like this?

PS:
Apparently I'm not the only one boycotting Delta. A simple google search turned up this gem: www.boycottdelta.org. Delta seems to enjoy performing uninvited credit checks and arbitrarily terror-rating it's customers. Not me, Delta, I've learned my lesson.

PPS:
"Did I make it to my destination?" Why, thank you for asking. I ran through the airport like a crazy person (but not like a terrorist), and I called Southwest Airlines on my cellphone. Not only did they make me first on the standby list on their next flight out, they were incredibly nice and said they would "take care of me." Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, like a member of the mafia. Thank you Ingred, kind customer service employee from Southwest Air. Thank you!!!

I love my job.


This is the flier for the unit I designed for this next science rotation:


I love being a teacher and I am so grateful for those of you who have helped shaped my beliefs and practices:
Amanda, Aunt Dianne, Bethany, Jenni, Pam, Patric, Colleen, Ruth, Kim
and many, many more...

Haircut 2.0: or Diana is Genius, pt. 2



K, so I know that there are more important things in the world besides my haircut. But this is the updated version that Diana did today. I feared that the long layers kinda made me look like Uncle Jesse from Full House. So Diana did her magic again by cutting off the mullet-y bottom. She is awesome.

Thank you to the three of you who participated in the official Spur of the Moment 24 Hour Haircut Election. I went with #1, but kept it a little longer on the bottom and had the bangs a bit shorter. Amanda, I am glad you found a possible winner for yourself.

Here are the results:



PS:
If anyone is looking for a hair stylist, I can wholeheartedly recommend Diana, who will not only wash your hair with delightfully minty products, she is a sparkling conversationalist and a talented stylist.

Heather needs a haircut...
votes are welcome...

#1


#2


#3


#4


#5

Don't Cry For Me, John Krasinksi



Despite my love for The Office, I'm not afraid to say that License to Wed royally sucked. I'm not even all the way through the movie, and I'm thinking about just popping it out of the DVD player and sticking it back in it's little red envelope so it can begin its journey back to the Netflix warehouse.

Pretty much, John (or "Jim" as I prefer to call him) gets into awkward situation after awkward situation, to which he consistently responds by making his trademark "Jim" face... a shrug, raised eyebrows, etc...




At less than an hour into the movie, it is very clear that our friend Jim is about to get trapped into a marriage with a controlling shrew purely because he finds her HOT. Uh oh! Lesson learned.

Also, those mechanical babies were super creepy. We had those in Anatomy class in high school, and they weren't nearly as horrifying. That "mini me" version of Robin Williams was also super creepy. I wanted to call CPS on that kid's parents for allowing him to be in this movie. The ending- don't worry, I won't ruin it- was possibly the tackiest and worst movie ending I've ever seen. And that's bad.

No amount of cameos from the cast of The Office could cure this horrid movie.

One last thing. I think I'm entirely cured of my crush on Jim. Perhaps it was just his shaggy haircut that I've loved all this time. It's interesting to note that Ellen Degeneres also has this same haircut. My hypothesis is that this particular haircut is a magnet for women. After all, Ellen is dating Portia De Rossi.

Oh Jim, if you're reading this: the side part is just not a good look for you. It is unnatural for a man at that age to have the same haircut as a 19-year-old Mormon missionary.

Gotta Love Office Space
and
some unfortunate last names

Samir: No one in this country can ever pronounce my name right. It's not that hard: Samir Na-gheen-an-a-jar. Nagheenanajar.
Michael Bolton: Yeah, well at least your name isn't Michael Bolton.
Samir: You know there's nothing wrong with that name.
Michael Bolton: There was nothing wrong with it... until I was about 12 years old and that no-talent clown became famous and started winning Grammys.
Samir: Hmm... well why don't you just go by Mike instead of Michael?
Michael Bolton: No way. Why should I change? He's the one who sucks.



There really are some unfortunate last names out there. As a teacher and former Mormon missionary, I sympathize with unfortunately surnamed people. What's the most unfortunate name you've encountered?

Wise Words #5

This is from my beloved Paul Rudd's character in the movie 200 Cigarettes.

It's inevitable, you know? You make all these little compromises to smooth things along, and the next thing you know, you're on some macrobiotic diet and you're listening to Joni Mitchell... and you know what they say? They tell you, "you've changed," and "you're not the same person I fell in love with." And then they dump you!

and a special bonus:

PAUL RUDD: Look, I'm just going to go home and kill myself. Do you want to share a cab?
COURTNEY LOVE: So I can pass out and wake up alone on New Year's Day? No way, man.

Wise Words #4
This was submitted by Deanna. This is one of the many reasons I love her so.

Major Life Decisions
(or: If You Hold Hands with Mentally Retarded Children, They'll Never Learn to Make Their Own Decisions)

I have a M.R. (mentally retarded) kid in my class. At the beginning of the year, he would always try to hold my hand whenever we were going anywhere. Then, the special ed teacher told me not to hold the kid's hand anymore because then the kid wasn't thinking about where to go for himself. He was just coasting along without thinking.

Once in awhile I wish I could just coast along with someone else making my decisions for me. Driving is one of those times. Its so much easier to just follow someone else, whether it's a friend driving ahead of me or a friend navigating in the passenger seat. If I had a newfangled GPS, I could totally see myself accidentally driving off a bridge or something (it said "turn left NOW!").



It would also be much easier if someone else could make financial decisions for me. Buying a house has my head spinning; it blows my mind that I could feasibly be a homeowner... to own something so big and expensive and to have THAT much debt... wow. I'm also contemplating what to do about retirement. These two cute reps from some union-approved retirement agency keep coming around our school every couple weeks, and I have to keep turning them away because I don't want to accidentally sign up for something I don't understand just because the salesmen are hot.

I wonder sometimes if marriage appealed to me partly because it would have been sooo easy to allow someone else to make a major life decision once in awhile. But then I remember to have faith in myself and my ability to make intelligent choices. After all, I haven't signed up for a retirement plan... yet.

Heather loves Cocoa.
Seriously. Is anything cuter?

Man, facebook is running slowly right now. Don't they know I need to upload like, infinity number of photos from our super fun post-New Year's travels? That's okay, I'll post some here.

Wise Words #3

"We would have brought you some peanut brittle, except we didn't know if you had any food allergies... because YOU NEVER CALLED ME BACK!"
- Tyree

The moral of this story: Always call people back.

"Landed," by Ben Folds.
best. song. ever.


Here are the lyrics, provided for your enjoyment.

We'd hit the bottom,
I thought it was my fault
And in a way I guess it was
I'm just now finding out
What it was all about

Moved to the west coast away from everyone
She never told me that you called
Back when I was still, I was still in love

Till I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye, I tried
And I twisted it wrong just to make it right
Had to leave myself behind
I've been flying high all night
So come pick me up...I've landed

The daily dramas she made from nothing
So nothing ever made them right
She liked to push me and talk me back down
Until I believed I was the crazy one,
and in a way
I guess I was...

But I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye I tried
Treading a sea of a troubled mind
Had to leave myself behind
Singing bye-bye, goodbye I tried

If you wrote me off I'd understand it
Because I've been on some other planet
So come pick me up...
I've landed

And you will be so
happy to know
I've come alone,
it's over

But I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's by my goodbye I tried
Down comes the reign of the telephone czar
It's OK to call
Now I'll answer for myself

Come pick me up,...I've landed

Wise Words #2

"Um, just so you know, next time a homeless person asks for a handout, it's not a good idea to say, 'I only carry large bills.' And don't ask them if they have change for a twenty."
-Eric

Last night I had the strangest dream...

I was working at some kind of summer camp, which was a hodgepodge of BYU Music Camp (where I spent 3 summers as a counselor), my current school of employment, and Hogwarts (I just got the first HP movie from Netflix- I'm not some kind of HP freak). At the beginning of the dream, I was lobbying for my boss (a knee-shorts wearing, whistle blowing female PE teacher type, to approve a scholarship to sponsor an underprivileged at-risk kid to come to camp. I'm such a good guy, right?

It turned out that the "kid" who ended up coming to camp on scholarship was none other than David Spade. That's right. 45-year-old, long-hair-that-was-in-style-10-years-ago, David Spade. This sounds like it could be an Adam Sandler movie, no?

For pretty much the rest of my dream, I was assigned to keep David Spade out of trouble. We referred to him as "David Spade," as in, "Gee golly, David Spade broke into the commons room after hours again!" or "Gosh David Spade, will you ever learn your lesson?"

Then, on my afternoon off from camp, after waking from a relaxing afternoon nap (interesting that I take naps in my dreams, huh?), I went to the counselors' garage to get my car. Yes, in my dreams, camp counselors have a small garage where we park the camp Hummer. Yes, camp counselors drive Hummers around camp, golf cart style. There I found David Spade, sitting in the Hummer, ignition on, garage door closed. David Spade was trying to commit suicide!!!

For the remainder of the dream, I kept rescuing David Spade from his many, many suicide attempts. It was very Better Off Dead-esque, in that there was one outlandish suicide attempt after another. Then, at the camp awards at the end of the week, David Spade won the award for "most suicide attempts." Sigh.

The End.

2007 Year in Review

1) BUDDIES OF THE YEAR
All of the V.V. Vikings =)

2) LIFETIME SERVICE AWARD (longest friend) -
Wendeleeza, Briana, Ty

3) NEWCOMER AWARD - COOLEST NEWEST FRIEND?
he knows who he is =)

3) HIGH POINT OF THE YEAR?
being accepted to present at the 2008 National Educational Computing Conference w/ an awesome professor

4) LOW POINT OF THE YEAR?
Low point? Everything this year was peachy, right? haha...

5) BEST HOLIDAY?
I'm banking on New Year's because everything else kinda sucked.

6) YOUR SONG FOR 2007
Trusted, by Ben Folds

7) MOVIE FOR 2007
Walk Hard- The Dewey Cox Story

10) WHO DID YOU SPEND VALENTINES WITH?
my grandparents

11) BEST RELATIONSHIP?
Ummm...my friendships.

12) WHAT WERE YOU FOR HALLOWEEN?
Snow white

13) RESTAURANT OF THE YEAR?
Sammy's Woodfired Pizza

14) KISS OF THE YEAR?
a kiss on the cheek from a certain someone

15) BEST DECISION MADE THIS YEAR?
becoming a homeowner, which hasn't technically happened yet...

16) WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR NEXT YEAR?
I want to be a homeowner!

18) TV SHOW OF THE YEAR?
The Office, Scrubs

19) MOST LOYAL FRIEND?
Briana, Ty

20) BIGGEST CHANGE OF THE YEAR?
moving forward alone...

21) BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG AWARD?
No comment, but I think we all know the answer to that. Add "coward" while we're at it.

22) NEW YEAR RESOLUTION?
I WILL find a house.

Wise Words #1
(aka: WW #1)

This is the first installment of a new blog feature, where I dispense wise words from dear friends, in this case, Wendy. Suck it up, Jack Handy.

"If your name rhymes with Lacy or Stacy, don't marry a guy whose last name is Peterson. Just don't do it. You'll end up dead."

I normally don't do this, but "The Office" has dominated most of my conversations with adults today. So there. Love it.

I am considering a haircut.

Comments and suggestions are welcome.

How could you NOT love this face?

Dear BiggyB,

In this time of giving thanks, I am thankful for our friendship.

We lugged 14 paper grocery bags full of (heavy!) books all over Portland using public transportation.

You bravely played Joni Mitchell songs when I accidentally booked our chick band at a crowded biker bar.

Thanks for humoring my slight obsessions with: M*A*S*H, Jim from "The Office," and the Josh Joplin Group.

You "accidentally" forgot the "alternate lyrics" when you-know-who was there... Thanks a lot, jerkface. =)

Oh, and in related news... I left my phone on the counter when I went to return YOUR vhs copy of "Malibu's Most Wanted" to Blockbuster. You used this golden opportunity to call a certain person...

You spotted Steve Buscemi at Sundance. AND Eddie Murphy.

You taught me how to (literally) cross multi lanes of traffic without getting hit by a car (both as a pedestrian and as a driver). You also taught me that it's not cool to ride the brakes when driving on the freeway.

You help me forget to be sad.

I love you, B! Thanks for everything.

Dear Holidays,
Why do I love you so? Maybe it's the paid time home from work. Yes, that must be it.
Love,
Heather

Need an affordable one-of-a-kind gift for your favorite family member/ teacher/ sports fan/ musician? Have I got a website for YOU!

I am starting an online store. That's right... an online store. I'll be selling hand crafted glass gem magnets and possibly jewelry at some point.

I'm sure at this point, you're asking yourself, "Where can I find such a store amidst the internets?" Thanks for asking. Right here: www.heatherbee702.etsy.com
I'll have some items posted in the next couple days.

As an elementary school teacher, I can attest to the sheer delight of apron-wearing. (Yes, Briana, apron-wearing.) This prevents me from having tons o' junk (keys, memos, slobbery toys confiscated from kids, etc..) in my pocket, and then coming home only to discover that I still have the junk in my pocket. See, I typically don't like to bring the germ infested souvenirs of my day job into my living space.

Also, I occasionally misplace my keys. And teachers have a lot of keys- keys to the school, gate keys, classroom keys, copy room keys, filing cabinet keys, bathroom keys... There is nothing more humbling than desperately asking 20 seven-year-olds if they have any idea where your keys are. Now that I've taken up apron-wearing, I just leave my keys in the apron pocket.

And of course the most obvious benefit of apron-wearing is that I don't end up with paint/marker/snot on my clothing during the course of the school day.

This awesome apron-making blogger and etsy user is having a giveaway on her one-year-blogiversary. Check it out, folks!

Tonight, I enjoyed my Friday night routine, which usually involves watching "20/20" on ABC. Tonight's episode featured several impoverished families and the generous and immense help they received from 20/20 viewers.

While I sympathize with the innocent children (ie: victims) of poverty, some common themes run through the stories of the adults.
#1. They dropped out of school and gave up on education.
#2. They got themselves or someone else pregnant.
One family spent their welfare money on brand name gourmet donuts instead of anything resembling actual food. Another so-called impoverished family had every video game product imaginable, yet there were no books to be found in their house.

Why is so much help given to those who do little to help themselves? I’ve made all the “right” decisions in life, yet there are weeks when I cannot afford to put groceries on the table or gas in my car. Last year, I taught elementary school full-time and had two part-time jobs, while finishing my M.Ed. thesis.

My father passed away when I was a teenager, and I’ve worked to support my family ever since. I worked full time AND studied hard to earn scholarships to put myself through college and graduate school. I never gave up. I have a masters' degree.

So I chose to give back to my own neighborhood by teaching at the same impoverished school I attended as a child. With teacher salaries being what they are, I will never be a homeowner. I will never pay off my student loans. I am one paycheck away from being homeless.



Where is the help for those of us who’ve made responsible choices?

I've had the stomach flu, or something nasty, since last Friday. This means a lot of vomit. Gross. You know when you see someone throw up and it makes you want to vomit? Yah, I actually threw up in front of the kids in my class. Immediately after, some kids threw up. Gross.

My classroom = vomitorium.

All of this down time means that I'm slowly making my way through my Netflix queue. Right now, I have the first disc of Kids in the Hall Season 2, Shopgirl, and The Ron Clark Story.

116 movies to go...

CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF:

Teachers do not enjoy giving homework!!! Case in point... I just spent the last two hours of my weekend putting together homework assignments for the upcoming week. That doesn't even count the amount of time I will spend tomorrow morning photocopying and compiling homework packets. Plus, the more homework I assign, the more I will have to eventually grade.

One of my colleagues made a valid point about homework. He said that it is a "worthless grade," because we never know who is really doing the homework. Trust me, I have an idea. When a kid who can't even write his own name turns in a three paragraph essay, I have a pretty good idea of who is doing the homework... and it ain't the kid.

So my point? I'm pretty much OVER assigning homework. Although I feel that students need the opportunity to reinforce the skills we are working on in class, I feel like there must be some more meaningful way to do so. Any ideas are welcome.

Love,
Heather

Ahem. Let's be Netflix friends. It's really cool, I promise. Click on my cool hyperlink and it will take you a place where you can add me to your friend's list. I promise it's not about a free Macy's giftcard. haha.

This is a way for friends to recommend movies and it even lets you take a quiz about what movies your friends like. It's super cool. By the way, since joining Netflix, I have saved literally zillions of dollars on movie purchases.

B.N. (Before Netflix), I would buy nearly every single movie I wanted to see, which added up to about flobbity jillion dollars annually. And that's a modest estimate, because we all know those boxed sets of our favorite shows can sure get pricey. =)

"Don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future
Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures"
-by my fav band of the moment
The Postal Service (Thanks for the great CD, Ryan!)

So I'm back on the Netflix bandwagon! I finally sent back The DaVinci Code, which I've had since last November, with full intent of watching it, really. I finally saw it this summer in Germany.

I accidentally rented another French film, King of Hearts. Not that I mind French cinema, but I was really looking for a light-hearted British comedy, rather than the heart-felt dripping-with-feeling movie I got. That's all right though. It was about a WWI Scottish soldier who is sent to defuse a bomb in Northern France. Running from the Germans, he holes himself up in the insanse asylum, and the residents there crown him "king." With the rest of the town evacuated, they escape from the asylum.

Anyway, if anyone wants to be Netflix buddies, let me know. It'll be fun, I promise. And I usually don't rent drippy French films. Well, sometimes I do...

Dear Wendy, Deanna, and related parties,

Some of you have taken issue with my choice of footwear. And by "some of you," I mean everyone in the lower 48 states, including 94.1's Mark and Mercedes, several coworkers, and my mother. However, MY footwear leaves my feet feeling pampered, comfy cozy, and perhaps most importantly, fully intact... while your choice of footwear leaves your feet looking like this:


I've come to terms with the fact that my shoes are made of rubbery plastic. Why can't the world just let us be? (cue the theme from the 1970's version of Romeo & Juliet)

My point? My shoes are awesome. Are your shoes available in every color of the rainbow, in a myriad of styles? Didn't think so. So in the words of our friend Sinbad circa 1993, "BoooooooYAH."

Love,
Heather

I was just getting used to glorious indulgences of the weekend: staying up past 11pm, taking my dog to the park in the middle of the day, wearing jeans... And as I sit here blogging at midnight while watching TVland, I sadly realize that the weekend is over. Seven and a half hours from now, I'll be pulling into the parking lot at work, wearing sensible shoes and a blazer. Sigh.

I wonder if people in "9-5" professions (other than teaching) experience this same end-of-weekend nostalgia... or if it's just a school-related anxiety.

In any case, I'm really satisfied with my work this year. I have a big class with students that have all sorts of strengths and challenges. I go home at the end of the day proud of my students. I don't dread Mondays anymore. I feel jittery excitement when I get to go back to work. There are numerous possible reasons for this: I teach at my elementary school alma matter, I'm in a real classroom as opposed to a trailer on the outskirts of the actual school, I'm not bound by NCLB... this list could go on and on.

The point is, I'm really happy with the direction my career is heading. So there.

On a dear friend's myspace, my profile picture is ominously placed in this manner:


Is this not disturbing?

Kudos to anyone who can name the person whose profile ironically juxtaposes these photos.

I love the digital age because I can update my blog all out of order, but then my great-great-great grandchildren who will read this someday in their Jetson spaceship house will be fooled into thinking that I have a intricately detailed and organized blog which serves as a history of blah... blah... blah...

The point? I'll be updating my blog out of order. So check back and I may have awesome pics of Europe added post-vacation, and those entries will be located before my current tales of Seinfeldian nothingness. Have a super day!

I heard this awesome song by Ingrid Michaelson today on an Old Navy commercial. It's called, "The Way I Am." The lyrics are here for your viewing enjoyment:

If you were falling, then I would catch you.
You need a light, I'd find a match.

Cuz I love the way you say good morning.
And you take me the way I am.

If you are chilly, here take my sweater.
Your head is aching, I'll make it better.

Cuz I love the way you call me baby.
And you take me the way I am.

I'd buy you Rogaine if you start losing all your hair.
Sew on patches to all you tear.

Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise.
And you take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.

This song struck a chord (haha, music pun).

(If this is confusing and you would like me to elaborate, I can. Much has happened recently.)

You can hear part of the song here: http://www.cabin24records.com/ingridmi/mp3s/thewayiam.mp3
You can listen to the song here: http://www.myspace.com/ingridmichaelson
I recommend it. Please do it.

5 things...

aka: a random survey adapted from Wendy
(photos coming as soon as blogger-photo-adding isn't broken anymore!)

5 Jobs I've had
1. Custom Art Framer @ Aaron Brothers
2. teleprompter operator for the KBYU evening news
3. Camera Operator @ KBYU
4. Sports Broadcaster @ the 2002 Winter Olympics
5. Elementary School Teacher

5 Movies I Can Watch Over and Over
1. That Thing You Do
2. About A Boy
3. The Muppet Movie
4. A Christmas Story
5. Elizabethtown

5 Places I've Lived
1. Las Vegas
2. Provo
3. Nauvoo, Illinois
4. Korea
5. Germany

5 TV Shows I Enjoy
1. The Office
2. Arrested Development
3. Scrubs
4. M*A*S*H
5. South Park

5 Places I've Been on Vacation
1. Portland
2. Phoenix
3. France
4. Italy
5. Liechtenstein (not many people can say that!)

5 Favorite Restaurants
1. Cafe Rio!!!
2. BJ's Brewery
3. Cheesecake Factory
4. In-N-Out
5. Hash House A Go Go

5 Websites I Visit Daily
1. the onion
2. gmail
3. imdb
4. msypace
5. facebook

5 Places I'd Rather Be Right Now
1. Hawaii
2. Germany
3. asleep in my bed
4. Portland
5. Provo... NOT!!!! haha

Sunday, June 24, 2007: daytrip to Stasbourg, France

There is so much from Europe that I need to catch up on. I wish I had kept a detailed, entertaining, witty blog from the whole trip. Unfortunately, I did not. I did, however, take flobbity jillion photos (literally), which makes documenting my travels much easier.

The following video is from a daytrip to Strasbourg. This was my very first visit to France! I was so excited to cross the Germany/France border. Don't worry, I caught the whole thing on video tape. An unlucky few of you may someday have the opportunity to watch my 6+ hours of home video from the Europe trip. But for now, please enjoy an 8-minute video of highlights. (The resolution is pretty low because I had to compress it quite a bit... but you get the idea.)



Thanks to wikipedia, I discovered some interesting facts about this beautiful French city on the German border:
1) During Christmas celebrations in 1999, there as an al-Qaeda plot to blow up the Christmas market near the beautiful Strasbourg Cathedral. Thankfully, German authorities foiled this plot.
2) In 2001, during an open air concert, a single tree falling killed thirteen people and injured nearly a hundred. That must have been one HUGE tree, not like the puny ones growing in Las Vegas.
3) Strasbourg is home to "Arte," a French/German television network dedicated to the arts and to cultural programming.

This city is beautiful. I enjoyed a relaxing walk along the banks of the Ill River, which flows through the city. I also enjoyed a gorgeous view of the entire city from the top of the Strasbourg Cathedral via a plethora of stairs on a narrow circular staircase enclosed alternately by dark enclosures and cage-like metal bars. We were nearly 470 feet from the ground! It was the world's tallest building from 1625 until 1847. Even today, it is still the fourth tallest church in the world (or the seventh tallest, depending on the source). In any case, for a claustrophobe with a fear of heights, I felt a certain sense of accomplishment by facing not one but TWO fears.

This was my first visit to a European cathedral. In 1999, I visited the Cathedral of the Madelaine in SLC with the BYU Honors program; this visit was unfortunately colored by pious BYU students rudely commenting (inside the cathedral) on how they couldn't feel the spirit inside this building. How embarrassing. Visiting the intricately adorned Strasbourg Cathedral inspired within me a certain kinship with the architects and craftsmen who worked so hard to build this building of worship. LDS people often pay tribute to the pioneers who sacrificed to build temples. Is this not the same thing? Throughout time and across cultures, people have been inspired to create beautiful works of art/ music /literature /architecture to worship diety.

The view from the top of the Strasbourg Cathedral was breathtaking. As I continue to write about my travels in Europe, I will probably use the word "breathtaking" over and over again, enough to annoy the general readership of this blog. But it's the truth! I have seen so many sights that have literally taken my breath away. At the risk of sounding like a cheeseball, this has truly been a once-in-a-lifetime summer. Stay tuned for further updates.

Love, Heather

My plane left for Germany on June 17th at 2:20pm. The airport suggested being at the airport by 11:20am. I finished packing at 10:45am. I started out the packing my two suitcases in an extremely anal manner, even making a color-coded Microsoft Word document detailing where each item was packed in each suitcase. Towards the end, however, I was just shoving things in where they would fit. Some things didn't fit. Oh well.

At the airport, my mom dropped me off at the ominous sounding "Terminal 2," where international non-stop flights departed. My mom kept shaking her head, saying, "In all my 30 years in Vegas I've never been to Terminal 2."

Well, apparently she wasn't the only one. Walking into Terminal 2 of the McCarren Airport felt like stepping back in time to 1976. Apparently they have not updated (or cleaned) it since then. Even the parking ticket was yellowed. It looked like they bought rolls and rolls of parking tickets in bulk back then and haven't used them all yet.

My gate, Gate 4, was located conveniently right across from the miniscule and non-threatening security checkpoint. As I was about to enter the line for security, a man who was clearly dressed as a suicide bomber

made his way through the line. After he surprisingly made it through security without so much as a warning or stern frown from a TSA agent, I watched him like a hawk to make sure he was going to a different gate than mine. Seriously, if you are going to an airport, why dress like a suicide bomber? Didn't his wife/partner say something like, "Hugo, better pack your suicide bombing vest in your checked luggage. You don't want to call attention to yourself."

Anyway, the flight was pleasant. I sat next to a beautiful German exchange student who spoke English effortlessly without any trace of an accent. I would have probably thought she was American, had she not told me she was German. This 17-year-old girl spoke several European languages and had seen many more countries on the globe than I had. The plane hadn't even touched ground in Europe yet, and I was already feeling like a stupid American.