Festering Wounds and Wedding Festivities

Monday night was a bachelorette party for Lyndsie Smith, my good friend and pseudo-sister. It was wonderful to see a bunch of my friends and ex-roommates who are now married and never hang out anymore. Like Emarie and Sarah. I also made friends with a photographer, Natalie, who took our roommate pictures once. It was fun, but not nearly crazy enough. Apparently the same could be said of the bachelor's party, which ended in a testimony meeting. No one even had to catch and kill a pig as a rite of passage. Next time...

Due to the time-consuming nature of my unpaid day job and the oppressive dryness that is Utah summers, I have to exercise at weird times. On Tuesday I went running at 5am without contacts on an unfamiliar street with limited light and extremely uneven sidewalks. Long story short, I ended up skidding along the concrete and getting a decent abrasion on my leg. Which then got extremely infected. So I've been dealing with that all week. 

Before the infection set in. 

Wednesday was the rehearsal dinner. Thomas' parents were diplomats in Sweden, so his Mom set up the table accordingly - thus I was sitting with complete strangers: a bridesmaid/husband, a family friend of both families, and Ryan's mom/dad (a PT). They turned out to be quite enjoyable company and I feel like we all got to know different sides of the family better. Also a group of strangers has never wanted me to get married so badly.

Story 1. For some reason, my table was front and center, as in blocking Thomas/Lyndsie from the rest of the tables. I was wearing my bridesmaid shoes to kind of break them in, and I told them as much when they pointed out a scuff mark on the back. Thomas replied, "Breaking them in?! What, did you run a marathon in those things?" Drama queen. He also tried to uninvited me to the wedding, that punk.

Story 2. At one point, the emcee was introducing different parts of the family, so we could have an idea of how everyone knew the couple. I was there as a bridesmaid, but Lyndsie's family has this joke with me. Because I remind them so much of their missionary son, Jake, we decided that I'm his replacement "Jacqueline" until he gets back, and am kind of adopted into their family. So when the guy asked for siblings to stand up, Mama Smith was urging me to stand as well, but the other two brothers were in the back corner, so it looked like it was just me standing and it was awkward.

Story 3. Before the dinner started, Mama Newell told me at one point, music would start playing and the groomsmen would all start dancing. Then the bridesmaids were supposed to join in. Then we had about a minute to get everyone in the room to start dancing. When it happened, I was the only bridesmaid to start dancing and turns out it was the wrong song. Two minutes later, it happened again, and that's when I was supposed to join in. This is why you don't invite me to nice things.

Lyndsie and brother, Clayn.

 Part 2: The Wedding. I drove up to SLC with the Coveys, the Sagers, and Mama Sagers (who I ate dinner with the night before). We listened to Hamilton, a crowd favorite. The sealing was done by Neil L. Anderson, so that's cool. He talked a lot about how this is an age of disposal, where things are discarded easily and marriage should not be so. Half of the wedding party served under PRoney and met him in Nice, France.

We took a couple pictures outside, but the groomsmen weren't wearing their green gingham shirts or bowties, so it was limited for now. All I wanted was one selfie, but Thomas looked over from the middle of taking family pictures and mouthed: "You're last." Don't worry, I got it.

Our car had a late lunch at Cubby's, which was delicious. I highly recommend the Dragonslayer. And Mama Sagers said anytime I want to hang out with a 48 year old woman, call her up.

Here it is. The sassy couple. Love 'em. 

 We met back up like an hour later to set up for the reception. We took lots of bridal party photos that I'm excited to see. The photographer was funny - I liked her a lot. There was a string quartet and a random door on the lawn and lots of snacks with a loooooooonnnnnggggg line. And no dance party, which we were disappointed about because Thomas loves dancing and we didn't get a chance to see Boden get super sweaty. Last wedding, he looked like he just got out of a swimming pool.

Okay. The bouquet toss. Normally, I really don't put too much effort into this silly tradition, but this time was different. First of all, when it was announced, everyone's parents that I had met over the past few days started chanting my name. Second, I know there were other unwed bridesmaids, but they were scarce to be found, so it ended up being me among all the small female children. Third, these kids were vicious. They started smack-talking me, telling me they were going to get married first and there was no way I was catching it, blah, blah, blah. I caught Lyndsie's eye and said Throw it high. Game over. I dove over half of the kids and smashed the bouquet, but it was firmly in my grasp.

The night ended in a lighted balloon send-off, which was magical. Let's do it again sometime, single friends Ben, Corbin, Boden, and I.

Butch stole my phone while I was taping him. Not even mad.

The rest of the week was still exhausting with Fall Camp, but it ended a tad early on Th/Fr/Saturday. Porter came to hang out one day. The next day, I found him napping in my bed. He helped me bring all my stored boxes to our house so I could unpack. Friday night, Hannah and I watched a mix of Naruto (BELIEVE IT!) and She's the Man, a classic. Saturday, Greg and David Monson took us shopping. Later, Hannah's friends came over to watch The Other Guys, which was okay, but not as good as I expected. And I just found out that our church is 12:30-3:30, which is the literal worst. Not only because it is super late, but because every other week, I have to do rehab from 12-2ish with the football guys.

We Blitz. All. Night.

Last Sunday I tried to go to church, but as soon as I got on campus, I vaguely remembered the bishopric announcing a special stake meeting for the next two weeks. I went to the place that I thought it was and ended up going to a different ward entirely. Ah well. It actually was perfect because it ended at 11:30, just in time for me to get to my afternoon clinicals.

If you've been watching the Olympics this year, you'll know the U.S. is killing it. My friend Chris bought a shirt that says: two time world war champs, and I'm jealous. But you may have noticed some circular hickey-like bruises on Michael Phelps, among others. It's from "cupping". Essentially, you just suction cup your muscles and it's supposed to suck the toxins out, increase blood flow, and separate your fascia. We've been trying it out because we have the suction cups. (We also have the glass version, where you use this cool gun thing to suck more air out). I'm skeptical, but I'll let you know what our athletes think.

Cupping for days. 

 I have a roommate now. Brittany got kicked out of her apartment, so she's been chilling in the dorms with me. She's probably one of my favorite roommates because basically we get home and shower and she'll watch Netflix and I'll work on my comic book and sometimes we'll talk for a few minutes, but nothing crazy because we're both exhausted.

Wednesday I got off a little early, so I hung out with Cam. We checked out an apartment he's interested in renting from a delightful woman named Shirley. Then we went over to Luz's house for dinner. She's a Mexican woman that his old roommate's friend converted on his mission and somehow this random group of people started eating dinner at her house on a fairly regular basis. I wasn't mad because she's a great cook.

Selfies on the daily.

Thursday we had a scrimmage at the stadium, which is always fun. Although I have a lot less to do there, than in my rehab sessions. We bring all the injured guys out for the scrimmages so they can watch and maybe do some stuff on the sides, but not really. So I try to give water to people who are already flooded with water by the other ten athletic trainers assigned to them. 

Also, Kevin's family rap is finished. And just in time, because he's got like a week left before he leaves. Word is that Derek caught a fish and his reception went swimmingly. And the bathroom at home is finished. Also, Steve, the sassy head trainer, found out I'm from the East Coast, and decided that explained it all about me. Not sure what that meant, but he let me borrow his sweet BYU flat brim during practice, so I wasn't mad. 

Heading to the stadium for the scrimmage. 

Friday, we were off at like 1, because the whole team was going camping. So I took a nap and showed Matt my comic book so far. I took Rachel May out to eat for her birthday and she helped me pick out bachelorette gifts. Then we went to the stadium, where Remember the Titans was playing for free. I ran into Bryson and Vay, some delightful fellow Lyonnaise missionaries. It was a fun time.

Saturday I was kicked out of my apartment at ten (with very little forewarning). Luckily, Amy and Hannah were already on their way down to help me move in to our new house. We basically dropped our stuff off and Hannah came with me to treatment for an hour, where we were fed lunch and she sassed everyone almost as hard as me. Then, we kicked Alexis' cousin out of our room (she was just couch hopping anyways, and there's another spare room she can sleep in). Another girl was moving out of Alexis' room, so we moved all her stuff back in there. And we tried to make ourselves at home. Which was a lot easier after we had food.

Spock, DJ Vay, Nomes, and Poutine. 

The Biggest Hickies In The Land

I work for thirteen hours a day at football camp. Then I work out. Then I get home and want to do zero things. On the daily. But it's super fun - I get to stay inside and do rehab during practice instead of running around giving water to people like the other students. I drink so much chocolate milk. Steve, the head AT (who's not technically my boss), is notoriously difficult because he likes to run a tight ship and also likes to give people a hard time. We get along well. He even let me wear red socks in the training room, which is a serious no-no. The guys are also very polite and fun.

Phelps' cup therapy, if you watch the Olympics.
I'm not a believer, but placebos work too. 

All the students were supposed to introduce ourselves one day, but a few of us missed the memo, so we didn't get to. Somehow everyone already knows who I am though, so I'm not mad. Although I did write this rap:

My name is Naomi, you can call me Hutch
You can even call me Nomes, but I don't like it as much.
I come from a land filled with colorful trees
I'm a Nutmegger, all the way from C-T!
I'm delightfully crazy, a master of sass
And if you can't handle it, you can kiss my -
BASketballer extraordinaire
I write up comic books with incredible flair
And did I mention I rap? Now, let's all be thankful,
I'm not talking about singing, I'm talking 'bout ankles!
I'm the best freaking taper that this world's ever seen.
Just kidding guys...I'm second to Steve!
I'm here, let's be clear, as Brett's protegee
His rehab's top notch, so stay out of his way
We can't have you chokin' cuz your hamstring's broken
You'll be back in a flash from this fire we're stokin'
So just try me out. I heal wounds like a Saint.
And in everything I do, I go hard in the paint.

In other news. I am still working on the comic book. The script is all written and I've got 14/22 pages sketched up. My bridesmaid dress for Lyndsie's wedding fits wonderfully and she as impeccable taste. She's also done a very admirable organizational job even while she's been in Brazil all summer and Thomas has been in England. Mallory Layton and I saw Suicide Squad and I really enjoyed it. The soundtrack is great, the movie could have been better, but it's still really good. And I ran eight miles yesterday.

Take It Back Now, Y'All

Well, folks. It’s been quite the ride these last couple of weeks. And suffice it to say I’m getting way worse at this weekly letter-writing thing. I finished up my last week at Pfizer. This included the following:

• A site-wide intern video shooting, where we all were supposed to yell, “We are Pfizer Summer Student Workers!” due to the editing rights being usurped by a bunch of nincompoops from the only sane person on the squad. I’m no longer upset I will never have access to that video.
• The competition for my heart. George won with an epic poem (after Alex withdrew from the competition, the lame-o) that went something like this: NAOMI. Nice. Ass. Oh. Myocardial. Infarction.
• A two-hour ice cream social with unlimited ice cream, underweight Frisbees, enough sun to burn only one shoulder, and the championship kickball and soccer games (which I was not in.)
• More bread. Better bread. Homemade bread. And spices I stole from that restaurant in D.C. Also an understanding that wax paper should NOT in fact be placed under the bread as it’s cooking. Bad. News. Bears.

From my favorite Pfizer Pokestop. Which is a really comfortable couch.

• A fluffernutter lunch and enough free food to kill me. Shout out to my workout crew, Qin, Andy, John, etc.
• Distribution of Temple House Open House invitations, which I conveniently received a mere two days before leaving.
• My final half-day spent eating popcorn and watching the Emperor’s New Groove with my old boss Bruce, who, if you remember, hasn’t seen a movie in living memory. You’re welcome, Bruce.

It wasn’t as good as last summer, but I had fun. Holla back. I cleaned stuff out, packed stuff up, and ate all the gummies in our house. Saturday, I got to spend the day with a lovely woman who wants to be an Olympic sharpshooter one day (and will probably do it). Maureen and I drove up to the Hartford temple to help place crystals in the chandelier for the Celestial Room. It’s a good thing we went, because the other 8 ladies were…less helpful, we’ll say. And Maureen is wonderful and delightful and I can’t say enough good about her.

Please send plane ticket for the dedication.

Kevin spoke in the Singles Ward on Sunday, so I actually went. He did a good job calling me out because he gave 2 talks this summer and yours truly gave nada. The bishopric came to hassle me about it, but what they don’t understand is that I love speaking in church! Also speaking. I like the sound of my voice way too much. I also really enjoy social experimentation. Crowd manipulation. I like to figure out what works well for people in various situations. Alas, if they had only tried harder, I would have been all too willing.

Now let me tell you about this week. I’ve been emailing with my boss, who has been very vague on details. The best I got out of him was to fly in the beginning of this week and show up whenever I got to town. I flew in late Monday, slept at Ben’s, and had ‘jetlag recovery’ on the forefront until Joy could drive me to Provo later. Then I woke up to a few texts from my boss’ secretary saying, Where are you? We need you here now. Great. Mallory Layton sped over, we dropped my stuff off at my future house, and I dropped in to the training room, khakis and a “THUG LIFE: Drop the T and get over here” t-shirt, since all my BYU stuff was packed.

 They gave me a break day one, and everyone thought it was funny anyways. Since then, I’ve been working 12-hour days, eating like a king, and living in the dorms. Which no longer have Wi-Fi in the rooms, so I have to go down to the common room to do Internet things. Ugh. But if you have any question about my eating habits, let me give you some insight: one day they just had to-go boxes for us, each packed with an 18 rack of ribs, mashed potatoes, 2 steaks, and beans. There’s usually more fruits and veggies and chocolate milk involved, but they were only to-go boxes.

Otherwise, basically all I’ve done is work out, eat Oreos, watch Olympics, and work on my comic book. Coming soon to theaters near you. (We hope.)

First season swag.