Taylorsville Dayzz 2008: Otherwise known as Why I Did Not Attend My 10 Year High School Reunion
I had nothing else to do one morning after being rudely awakened by the sprinklers other than dry out and take artsy-fartsy photos of random pyro stuff. My sisters are artsy, I am not. Putting my camera on BW mode is as close as I ever get.

Pyrotechs do not like sprinklers. Especially when the groundskeeper fails to TURN THEM OFF.

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Hiking Timp

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The first problem with 100 Things arises
I have a large book collection. I love my books. I refuse to give any of them up.

In the Time article, a woman is mentioned who although has whittled her shoe collection down from 36 pairs to 20, still counts her entire collection as ONE item. That could be classified as cheating (because it is), but it makes me aware that everyone who has the guts to undertake this Challenge is different. She could very easily give up all her books but refuse to part with her shoes, so the question is, can this apply to me? The 100 Thing Challenge is not a race, nor is it a set of pre-agreed upon commandments that everyone must follow exactly. It is just a way to unload extra baggage and persue the difficult goal of self-minimization (is that a word?)

The following items have so far been cut from the team, eliminated, voted off the island, not given a rose or have to take off their jackets and leave Hell's Kitchen:

  • 19" flat screen behemoth of a computer monitor (I got a flat panel)--DI
  • one IKEA floor lamp (I have two and have ever only used one)--sell?
  • one tall glass orchid vase (nothing fits in there)--DI
  • at least two messenger bags (I have a lot)--DI
  • all of Wyatt's toys without a squeeker--garbage

I haven't gone through my clothes yet but I will post that elimination list when I get to it.

The 100 Thing Challenge
In an article in this week's Time magazine entitled "How To Live With Just 100 Things" (http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1812048,00.html), the author states:

"Excess consumption is practically an American religion. But as anyone with a filled-to-the-gills closet knows, the things we accumulate can become oppressive. With all this stuff piling up and never quite getting put away, we're no longer huddled masses yearning to breathe free; we're huddled masses yearning to free up space on a countertop. Which is why people are so intrigued by the 100 Thing Challenge, a grass-roots movement in which otherwise seemingly normal folks are pledging to whittle down their possessions to a mere 100 items."

Anyone who has ever helped me move knows firsthand that I have a lot of crap. I attempt to jettison anything unneeded or no longer wanted shortly after each move, but that only lasts for a short time. I always seem to accumulate enough more crap to replace everything I had gotten rid of, thus eliminating the point of the initial purges and bogging down each subsequent apartment even more.

In college, I owned one pair of jeans, one hoodie, some t-shirts and one pair of shoes; after a stint at Old Navy and managing a Gap, I now own over 20 pairs of jeans, 36 pairs of shoes, 5 pairs of khakis and too many skirts to count. After a winter in Jackson Hole (and a mother who is obsessed with knitting), I have two BOXES of hats, gloves and scarves. I have a 5-piece dining set even though I eat in front of my computer and never have any visitors, however, this dining set was my late grandmother's and I don't have the heart to get rid of it....yet.

I'm tired of having rubbermaids and boxes chock full of stuff that I might use someday. Enough is enough. If I can sell my fabulous Honda Accord and be happy with taking the bus, I can attempt to take up the 100 Thing Challenge! I think. Well, I'm going to try.

If anyone wants some free size 8 ultralowrise Gap jeans, hit me up. Or else they're going to the DI.
More pictures from Arches

This is my favorite picture from this trip. I have this thing for taking touristy pictures of me sitting down amongst very large/impressive works of nature/man. The first time I went to NYC, I got a stellar shot of me sitting in the middle of an island in Times Square at night, looking up at the signs. This one is better.

Me being kamikaze. We were 2 inches from dropping to our death and remarkably unfazed by that.

Really creepy general store in really creepy ghost town. Seriously Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

One of the few pics where both of us look decent at the same time. That's rare.