so… we’re here to inspire.

There is this one laugh that I have that I hate.  And every time that it happens when I’m around good friends, especially Anna Davis, I say, “God, I hate that laugh.”

Sometimes, Ms. Davis beats me to it, saying, “God, I hate that laugh.”  You would, too.  It’s this one-beat, high-pitched, loud, “eeeeHA!”

It’s the worst.

Luckily, that’s not the laugh featured in this ah-mazing video.

I tell you, I could not be more proud of my friends, Michelle Cassel and Ryan McAfee.  I think they are just the bomb.org.  I have the hardest friend crush on them.  I’ve spoke of them before.

They made this video featuring Adventure Cycling… where I work… the organization I love so, so much…

Wait, before you click!… Look for me!  I make a laughable [not that one i hate] appearance at 2:03…

I love it.  I love everything about it.  I hope you love it… more than you know.

[more than you know.]

ghetto hikes and ghetto bikes and polica.

In an effort to blahg more, here I am.

It’s just because I want to share more.  I sit at a computer all day, almost every day, and I find all of these things and want to share with someone, laugh with someone, dance with someone.

And so my effort starts here.  Sharing more.

This is the funniest thing I’ve seen lately: Ghetto Hikes.

My favorite, thus far…

From Ghetto Hikes, to Ghetto Bikes…

I am constantly amazed at how awesome bikes are… what they do for different people.  The same vehicle, so different to everyone.

And then this song, because I love it…

[okay, two… i very much love this band…]

[haters gone hate. blahggers gone blahg.]

make your body happy through exercise.

Being sick all weekend has lent itself to a-lot of movie watching.

And while it’s a huge bummer that Evan and I didn’t get to get out there this weekend for the last bit of the Big Sky Documentary Film Fest, we did get to see some good ones.  And my fave shorts are online!

I am slightly in love with this guy… mainly because he’s hilarious… but also because I met his super sweet uncle before the showing…

And then there was a short about people who love the Insane Clown Posse.  Yep.  I really didn’t think I would want to see this film, but it was one of my favorite films…

It’s a different life, for sure.  But, who are we to judge, right?  A family is a family.  Good for them for finding something like that.

That is all right now.

I promise to start blahgging more in life soon.  Not as much for you, but for me.  I like it.  I like it a-lot.

Here’s this, though.  Something to end with…

Something I need to remind myself of pretty constantly.

[xxo,lovelies.]

like she was. like it was.

The other day, I had to drive to an appointment across town after work.

Traffic in Missoula can be surprisingly frustrating when not traveling by bike.

The lights are longer.  Which is completely frustrating.  Most days.

The other day, I was sitting at a light for the third time in a row… I was now waiting in the front row.

Frustrated, already late for my appointment, I put my hand in my head and huffed.  I look into my side mirror and noticed the car in the next lane, one car behind.

It was obviously a father and his daughter.  The girl, maybe age 6 or 7… possibly 8… full of joy, wonder.  The dad, exhausted.  He yawned a couple times, but was ever so engaged with his daughter.

They were smiling, laughing.  Why?  Because they were doing some kind of copy-cat-dance-move thing.  It was ah-mazing.  The girl would do a crazy dance for about 30 seconds and then point to her father saying something that looked like, “Now you.”

The father would then imitate his daughter’s crazy dancing for about four seconds before they both broke out into laughter, giggles.

I could not stop staring.  It was so precious.

After about four rounds of dance-copying, I, too, was giggling out loud.  Watching, though the mirror,  the father with his pursed lips, dancing like he was a Britney Spears back-up dancer, was just too much.  His daughter couldn’t take it, laughing so hard and covering up her eyes, leaning her head back, like she hadn’t just asked him to do it, like she was embarrassed, like it was the BEST, like it was the funniest thing that had ever happened to her.

A car horn honked… then honked again… the light was green.

I drove on to my appointment.

Happy for the traffic.

—–

This morning, making breakfast, after having a fort night…

I was in my boy shorts undies and a sweater… and I might have had my pearls on from last night because there was a dress-up code to enter the fort.  [i went as the queen of england in her pajamas.]

Cooking breakfast in my undies and pearls, a song came on that I couldn’t not dance to.  [oh, shhshh all you literary geniuses… i know there are fivethousand errors in my ways.]

I started dancing and then looked to Evan across the kitchen.  He was manning the stove section of the breakfast.  I said to him…

– Do what I do.

– What?  Dancing?

– Yeah, you copy me.

– Okay.

I danced as ridiculous as I could.  I danced as funky as I wanted to.  I was a child.  I was the BEST.  I was embarrassed.  I was asking for it.  I was loving it.

We both could not stop laughing.

– Okay, your turn.

– Okay, dance like I do.

Dancing in the most ridiculous ways.  Lots of elbows.  Lots of dramatic drumming.  Lots of hands on the hips and dramatic circles.  And all in a kitchen surrounded on three sided with windows.  A show for any neighbors lucky enough to be unbusy enough to watch.

I don’t know who it was more fun for… The Maker-Up-Er or The Copier.

Laughter took over and we couldn’t contain ourselves.  Tears.  Laughing.  Loving.  Dancing.

The song stopped and we looked at each other.  Out of breath, sweaty from dancing, cheeks hurting from smiling.  We went on cooking breakfast and everything tasted just a little bit sweeter with a side of ridiculous childishness on the side.

[thank you car dancing father/daughter duo for your inspiration.]