happy halloween

Sue Sylvester

"You know something Ohio? It’s not easy to break out of your comfort zone. People will tear you down, tell you you shouldn’t have bothered in the first place, but let me tell you something - there’s not much of a difference between a stadium full of cheering fans and an angry crowd screaming abuse at you. They’re both just making a lot of noise. How you take it is up to you. Convince yourself they’re cheering for you, you do that and someday - they will! And that’s how Sue Sees It."

in the footsteps of greatness

I went to the BYU football game yesterday, and ran into a few BYU greats.



On the walk into the game, I literally almost ran right into BYU's President, Elder Cecil Samuelson. We did that awkward dance of, "Are you going left, or are you going right?" then he sheepishly said hello. I thought it was cute.

I'm sure Elder Samuelson had much better seats, and he probably got a free catered meal. I starved while watching the Cougs (they won by the way):



After the game we went over to the Brick Oven to buy some soup, and guess who was also in the takeout line? Oh yes, the great Lavell Edwards! I was too embarrassed to say anything to him. But I thought it was cool he was smart enough to call in his order, while we had to wait for them to cook ours.

The best moment of the day, however, came when seeing this man:



REALLY? Really... bare feet in the stands of Lavell Edwards Stadium? That's just wrong.

opportunity to serve

(props to Shanna, as i'm totally copying her blog and posting it here, only with my name attached. we are working together to help our friend here at work)

i am not a fundraiser-er.

in fact, i loathe fundraisers. i hate asking people for money. i'm not a sales person and i definitely am not a fan of being asked to "donate" $20 for a tiny box of candy bars for the local elementary school.

however, i love serving.
i love helping people.
i love providing as much assistance as i can.

so yesterday, when i found out that a good friend and co-worker's family's home was completely destroyed in the wildfires in auburn, CA... all i could think was how could i help this family?

they came home from church on sunday and only had a few minutes to gather a couple things - a file of original birth certificates, a family picture from the wall and a diaper bag was all they managed to take with them. all of the rest of their belongings - clothes, dishes, appliances, photo albums, wedding keepsakes, blankets, music, furniture - everything.

e v e r y t h i n g is gone.
ashes.

so, while i do not like asking for money, or fundraising in an manner, i feel like they need help.
this is an opportunity to serve.
i have started a collection for this family and, if you feel so inclined, would gladly welcome any other contributions.

they need anything and everything - they have to rebuild their lives from scratch. luckily, they have the gospel in their lives and have maintained an eternal perspective of things, but i'm sure it's not easy. clothes, dishes, blankets, gift cards, cash, anything, i'm sure would be greatly appreciated.

we am sending a package to them on friday, september 11.

if you would like to help,
please contact me at
leigh.dethman@gmail.com
to arrange pick up and/or drop off.

but most of all, please keep this (and the other families affected)
in your prayers.

i think that will help the most.

carefree

care·free (adjective): free from care: as
a : having no worries or troubles
b : irresponsible
c: getting a pedicure with the girls (hooray for red toenails!)
d: eating zucchini spice cake with cream cheese frosting
d: jumping into the pool with your clothes on



The birthday weekend is officially a wrap. Tonight was just what I needed: a carefree night with the girls. We started with pedicures, then grabbed some dinner at The Soup Kitchen, followed by some amazing zucchini spice cake at the Nook. Those girls sure know how to bake. We then meandered over to Bishop's house for FHE.

After dancing with Steph (She's a great coach -- 'step-touch, step-touch, now shake those hips') and chatting with practically the entire ward, we somehow ended up in the pool with our clothes on. So much fun.

Definitely a night I'll always remember.

raindrops on roses

These are a few of my favorite things, and I was lucky enough to have them all on my birthday:

- waking up without an alarm clock
- fresh raspberries from lovely roomies for breakfast
- jokes in ward council
- night games at the nook
- Bishop Hale
- girl talk with Marf
- funny notes in sacrament
- hammocks
- lasagna
- mile-high mud pie
- cherries
- twinkle lights
- the grandma house
- emilia delmar
- girl talk
- new friends
- old friends
- bad blind date stories
- homemade ice cream
- the Batman kids serenading me
- phone calls
- text messages
- FB wall posts
- T-HO
- apple beer
- diet coke

Who could ask for anything more? Thanks to everyone for making 28 a great day.

introducing...

Mr. and Mrs. Finlinson!


Had an amazing day at the Salt Lake Temple with this lovely couple.

The new Mrs. Finlinson looked beautiful, with beaded buttons and a knock-out smile. Joe was happy as can be, with his lady by his side.

It was nice sneaking away from work for a while to go to the sealing (and I love that I have a job where they are totally cool with that). I can't wait for the wedding dinner tonight.

K girls. Who is next?

alta is for lovers

After surviving a busy work week (LDS booksellers convention) I'm rewarded with a return to a place that brought many a good memories -- the Alta.


I moved into the Alta during the summer of 2003 (right after I graduated). I stayed for about a year and a half. I begrudgingly moved after I grew tired of the long commute to Salt Lake City every day. Oh how it was hard to leave the Alta.

Favorite memories:
- Michael Jackson dance parties
- NCAA Football on the Playstation
- The spy
- Bishop Hawkes
- Dumpster diving at the bookstore
- Movie nights
- Spying on the parking lot make out sessions from our living room window
- Fro Yo
- Plastering "Alta is for Lovers" posters all over the complex (and then replacing the poster multiple times on the door of apartment 214 after they were offended and kept taking it down)
- Our refrigerator tribute to the Alta lovers:


Tomorrow night the BYU 77th ward is reuniting at Bishop Hawke's house. Luckily a girl in my current ward was also in the BYU 77th (not when I was in it) so I have a buddy to go down to Provo with. It should be a fun time!

who needs sleep?

I've tried to blog several times today. I've started several sentences, only to push the backspace button. I've tried to write out one of the many witty stories I've encountered the past few days. But I just can't do it.

Everything I write is incoherent. I'm delusional, living off of three hours of sleep. I don't recommend it.

freedom?

Like clockwork, I woke up at 8:45 this morning thinking I needed to get ready for church. Only this day I didn't have to. I don't have to go to morning leadership meetings anymore. I don't have to be at church until 1 p.m.

I didn't even set an alarm. I wanted to sleep as long as possible, unsure of what to do with all this new found free time on a Sabbath morning. In fact, I'm still trying to figure out what to do with all my free time every other day of the week as well.

Who would have thought this transition would be so rough?

addendum

I had another first this weekend I forgot to mention.

- ate a cherry tomato (I was told it was like candy exploding in your mouth. I beg to differ).

what I did this weekend

- braved Thai food for the first time (and survived)
- slept in a king size bed
- swam in the California ocean for the first time
- wandered on gold-spreckled sand
- spied on crabs in the tide pools
- earned a new nickname
- attempted several self-timer shots



- toured a random LDS chapel all in the name of love
- played several rounds of two truths and a lie and would you rather
- ate at In 'N Out
- stayed awake the whole entire 12-hour drive back to Utah
- watched a beautiful sunset.





- cemented my tan for the year
- watched (500) Days of Summer with, let's just say, some GREAT neighbors.
- didn't do a lick of work for three whole days (not even an email)
- had a blast with two great friends.

Cheers to San Diego. Here's to another trip soon!

rescue...

How would you rescue an iPhone trapped in the A/C vent of a car (more specific -- trapped in the floor A/C vent, so when you sit in the front seat and the phone rings, your feet vibrate)?

You could be like us, and shove a hanger with tape up the vent and wiggle it around. Alas, that didn't work.

Or you could be like J's friend, and park on a really really steep hill, and then call the phone over and over again, so the vibration slowly makes the phone fall down back out of the vent (I just can't believe I didn't come up with that idea myself).

Or, you could be like us and drive to the BMW dealer and plead for the iPhone's rescue. Don't hate ... it worked!

My phone will be back in my hand tonight at FHE (Guess I better go).

And if any big wigs at BMW are reading this, you really should put some sort of cover over the vent to block mishaps like this from happening again.

BMWs, iPhone's and air conditioning

So I think I have THE worst luck in the world.

I went to go visiting teaching tonight with J. She's driving her fancy BMW. My phone falls out of my lap and onto the floor. I'm reaching all around trying to find it, and am having no luck.

Finally, when we get to the house, I really start searching. I move the seat forward. Nothing. I move it back. Nothing. I lift up the floor mats, and you guessed it, still nothing.

J keeps calling my phone, and it sounds like its right underneath my hand. I can feel it vibrate. I can hear it's coo. But I CAN'T SEE IT!

As luck would have it, there are two tiny vents underneath J's seat. And me, being the lucky person I am, my phone decides to slip in there. It is now comfortably sitting in J's A/C vents. I have no idea how to get it out. I'm nervous its lost forever. And that was an expensive phone. I think the Lord is trying to tell me not to have an iPhone.

That's what I get for trying to do my visiting teaching.

Oy.

So e-mail me or call me at my office if you need me.

back to reality

Coming back to work after 9 days of heaven on a Florida beach is pure hell.

So tired.

Let me explain. I return to Utah a new woman. Well, not a new woman, but a stress-free woman. My co-workers even noted how relaxed I seem. My escape to the land of alligators (didn't see any) and sharks (had a few experiences with those) cleared any and all stresses in my life.


Then I had to fly home.

I went the cheap route, and booked a flight on Expedia. Yes, the cheap route, for $440. Good thing room and board was free. Ya see, when you go the cheap route, you get stuck with multiple stops and layovers. In short, I arrived at the airport at 6 a.m. Eastern and arrived in Utah at 8 p.m. Mountain Standard Time (that's 11 p.m. Eastern, folks). Talk about a long day of travel.

Oh and to top it all off, they lost my bag. The airline bag service called me at 2 a.m. to tell me they were waiting outside my house to deliver it back. The good news is I fell right back asleep.

Now I'm playing catch up at work, and am having a hard time getting motivated again. I finally made it through all my e-mail. Now I have a week's worth of newspapers to comb through (I read the Trib, D'News and USA Today every day in newsprint, lots of other pubs online).

I need a vacation from my vacation.

Good thing I'm off to San Diego next week :)

UPDATE: falling arms

Oh and I may or may not have a huge headache, stiff neck and lower back pain. Awesome.

beware: falling arms

So I may or may not have had an unexpected run in with the parking garage barrier arm.


And I may or may not have the worst headache ever. Stupid parking garage.

reuinted

Oh how I've missed you, bed.

A week away has taken it's toll on my back. Now the carpets are clean, the smell is gone, and my bed beckoned. After a night of laundering blankets and sheets, my bed is once again inhabitable.

Many thanks to Em for letting me sleep at the Grandma house.

working from home

I think I'm attempting the impossible. I am working from home today. I did sneak into the office for a few hours this afternoon, but came back to the house to keep watch as several craftsmen of all kinds work on my mess of a house. The carpet guy I can deal with. He's quietly downstairs in the stank putting the basement back together again and cleaning up the mess. It's the tile guy upstairs that makes working from home impossible.

Don't get me wrong. I'm used to working in chaos. I've penned stories in a newsroom on election night, in a full basketball arena at deadline and called in a story in the middle of a chaotic fire. But trying to type in my living room while the tile guy blasts away? Impossible.

So instead I blog. My boss is going to love that.

grateful

It's amazing how much a little note or personal e-mail can change someone's day. I've been an extremely lucky girl the past week or so. Despite some frustrating days at work and the stress of not sleeping in my bed for a week now, I've been lucky enough to be lifted up by several friends, both publicly and anonymously. First it was a plate of cookies with an anonymous note the night my basement flooded. Then came several sweet e-mails from girls in my ward telling me of their love and appreciation. These folks went out of their way to express their love, and I so appreciate it. It serves as a gentle reminder to me that we all need to forget ourselves in the service of others, for the loving service rendered to me has left me truly uplifted.

the scariest shower ever

Would you step foot into this?

'cause I refuse!

Imagine my horror when my landlord said it should "be OK" to just shower in the nasty shower without a ceiling for the next week or so. It should "be OK" to look up and see the rotting wood. It should "be OK" if maybe some little surprise falls down from the insulation above while I'm washing my hair. It should "be OK" for it, right?

Our shower, (yes, we only have one shower at my house) has been falling apart since the day we moved in. Then after Tuesday night's floods (that should be another blog post later. For now, think rain water, wet carpets and fun) our landlord came over and finally believed us when we said the shower was bad. It's not normally a good thing when the ceiling starts caving in and tiles fall off. And its never a good sign when there is visible water damage on the walls surrounding the shower.

Come to find out our toilet upstairs has been leaking. Yes, EVERY DAY it has leaked since we moved in. The pipe was cracked. So every time we flushed the upstairs toilet, water crashed down to the bathroom below and pushed on those shower tiles with such force that they finally gave up. Poor tiles were tired.

Hopefully we'll have a new ceiling for the ghetto pink shower downstairs. And cross your fingers we have convinced the landlord to put in a shower upstairs. It should be a fun few weeks of repairs at the Hubbard house.

archeology dig

This weekend I whipped out my old laptop and combed through my documents folder in search of some old music I thought I had lost. Sure, I found the music, but then I uncovered a treasure chest of awesomeness. We're talking e-journal entries a-la Doogie Howser from my freshman and sophomore years of college, letters to friends back home, and hilarious religion papers. I wish I could post some things I wrote on here, but really I'd be too embarrassed. One letter made me cringe. I found myself sounding like Peyton on One Tree Hill, with sentence after sentence crying about how people always leave. Next up all I need to do curl my hair and slap on a black leather jacket and I will really be the next Petyon.

Other unearthed treasures include my first resume (wow, if I read that now as an employer, I wouldn't hire me), notes from my first and only PR class (which I could use now!) and a detailed journal entry of going to a hockey game and seeing my ex with his new fiance. Awesome!

Hello, home

HI MOM! I see by clicking on to Google maps street view that you're home. Or, at least you were home when the creepy Google folks took a picture of our house. I think Mike and Susie were over visiting as well.



Next time I get homesick, I'm just clicking on to Google maps and looking at the street view. Yes, it's a little creepy. But cool at the same time.

early riser

I'm not known for rising with the sun. I'd rather put the blanket over my head and sleep for another hour.

My best friend and former roommate knows this, and was shocked to find me on Gmail chat this morning at 6:17 a.m. Yes, 6:17 a.m. Check out our conversation:



Arron knows how much it pains me to get up before 8 a.m. When I was a reporter, I could sleep in until 9 a.m. sometimes and roll into work by 10. Ah the good ol' days. Now I arrive every day by 8:30 a.m. And every Friday I have an 8 a.m. meeting, so I show up an hour early. I hate Fridays.

Especially Fridays like today, where I didn't get home from work until 9:10 p.m. Talk about a long day.

I'm SO sleeping in tomorrow. And not even setting an alarm! Boo yah.

conversations with a 2-year-old

Today I had my first real conversation with the Gav on the phone:

Me: "Hi Gavin."

Gav: "Hi... hi... hi. Leigh. Hi. Leigh."

Me: "What are you doing buddy?"

Gav: "(incoherent mumble jumble)"

Me: "Oh really?"

Gav: "Where's Leigh .... 'tah."






Thanks, Betsy, for calling me on a day Gavin actually wanted to talk on the phone! Man that boy's a genius. He knows I live in Utah.

brunettes have more fun

... that's what my friend M tells me.

word of advice #1

Here's the first of what is bound to be many insightful tips from the life of a new publicist: Read your email over at least three times before sending it to a reporter.

Brilliant tip, yes, this I know.

Too bad I haven't learned to follow it yet.

Case in point: I sent a press release out to several Texas media outlets today about an author on tour there. It wasn't until I sent out the release to about five reporters that I finally noticed I listed the location as Forth Worth, Texas. Awesome.

karaoke dreams shot

Oh Pat Benetar, where art thou? Apparently not on the playlist on the fancy karaoke machine Meg rented for her birthday party last weekend.

My favorite karaoke song, Love Is A Battlefield was not one of the hundreds of choices, leaving me to Sheryl Crow with Jon Waters and Jen Flanary, Barry Manilow's Mandy with Meg, and several other group numbers.

But my number? No where to be found.



I'm telling you, that crowd missed out.

a lot of love to give

I have a big heart.

No, I'm not bragging about how compassionate I am. I really do have a really big heart.

Can you die from a big heart? No idea, but I do know my doctor is nervous. Apparently my aorta is enlarged. Normally I go in and get an echo cardiogram once every 2-3 years. I went in today for my routine test.

Everything else looks good. The old problems are still there, but haven't gotten worse. But for some reason my aorta is large. Now the doctor wants me to come back in six months for another test.

Oh joy.