Sunday, December 09, 2007

Why You Should Never Ask Me to Cut the Pumpkin Pie

Where to begin. The last two weekends have given me the chance to enjoy myself as a single gal, along with my four favorite other single gals (G, you don't count as single anymore, otherwise you'd be included in my favorite single gals).

The week after Thanksgiving, my friend Nicole hosted a Thanksgiving feast extravaganza. She made a turkey and a cornucopia of tasty delights. Emily and I were assigned to bring the green bean cassarole (one of the now THREE things I know how to make; the other two being cinnamon rolls and omelets). Although I think we overestimated a bit when I said we needed six cans of green beans for five people. Cause, you know, people really like green beans.

The turkey was amazing.

My butt was amazing.

And this is what happens if you spend hours creating a home-made pumpkin pie and then ask me to cut it. I think Nicole still hasn't forgiven me for mutilating her pie like that.

Speaking of Nicole, her 26th birthday was last week. To celebrate, we got all gussied up and headed to the Cheesecake Factory that just opened in Salt Lake.
Yanaj, Me, Nicole, Emily:
a study of the phenomenon known as Tan By Association.

Elizabeth and Me
Yanaj and Me: my favorite gal to pose next to because she makes me look the most tan.
Sorry, Yanaj. Your alabaster skin is lovely.

They might be little, but they're good for something: holding the beeper during our ninety-minute wait. And also motorboating.


My goal is to one day be as tan as the wood behind me. I'm only a few shades off.

You know its love when you lick the whipped cream off your friend's arm. Maybe not love, maybe just really good whipped cream. What I love about this picture is that Elizabeth's laughing roar is forever frozen in time.

Now this is love.

I'm not one to toot my own horn (I have construction workers to do that for me) but I love my shoes. However, it has to be said that wearing open-toed heels during a snowstorm is not the ideal choice. But that's a sacrifice I was willing to make, and I think it paid off.

After spending all that time getting dressed up, I felt it was important to post a picture of me at my happiest: eating fresh snow. I also helped build a snowman for the first time in my life.

We named him LaMar, may he rest in peace. More to come.

8 comments:

g said...

I love that one of the three things you know how to make are my cinnamon rolls. that makes me haaaappy.

cropstar5 said...

your shoes are fabulous indeed!

$teve said...

Nice...and you said motorboating. I didn't see you in the picture with all of you though. I saw four girls and a wood-laiden wall. I guess you must have been taking the picture or something. :)

Erin said...

your shoes are fabulous...but in that same picture so is your almost butt cheek. ew la la.

Scratch Subtle said...

Don't knock the whiteness. It takes months of hiding in the shadows to un-tan like that. And what's more you didn't even notice that I was laying next to you in the snow . . .

Andi Mae said...

Laughing out loud at your pie cutting...

I miss you. Come visit.

hizznizzle said...

Sarah, I didn't know you were hispanic. That is el greato!!

JandKBaxter.blogspot.com said...

Hey Sarah! Looks like you're as hot as ever! I see you have your humor well intact. I think about our Arcadia days with fondness. It's fun to think back.