December 17, 2009

Bring on the Books!!!

Friends, Family, Loved Ones, Neighbors, Fellow Mormons, Fellow Americans, Comrades in Collegiate/Non-Collegiate Circles, Partners in/or just finishing final-ridden hell, and all others that find themselves directly or abstractly related to myself.....I'm done! Another semester and week of nazi-induced finals are done, finito, reached their inevitable conclusion, R.I.P.'d in the cemetery of my cerebrum, etc. Did I pass, you ask? Please do not ask trivial, complicated questions in the height of my celebratory blog please. Who cares about grades right now, all that matters is I'm done...and I survived. I might look a bit worse for the wear, but supposedly I'm 'smarter' now.

Things I look forward to doing with 3 weeks of study free living:
Read all the books my little eyes can consume, and then if they give out I will take up brail.
Watch vast amounts of movies, undoubtedly none of them being educational.
Play with new bird (name still pending)
Enjoy a land free of snow. God bless you Hurricane.
Eat mommy's cooking till my gizzards writhe and evetually give out.
Those are just a few, my agenda is pretty full.

Here are some random pics of the recent month:

This was at a live nativity near Matt's house. It was amazing! They made this entire river bank/park into a walk through Bethlehem. Best part was no-brainer the free hot chocolate and homemade rolls. Yes, that is me petting a camel. I had to get physical with quite a few tiny tots to get some one on one time with the hairy devil. FYI: camels are crazy soft.

That is Lee sleeping on my bed. Find anything strange about this image? She sleeps in the weirdest ways.

*I would also like to give a shout out to my dearest friend Eric James (Erica Jane), who won the 'ugliest' award at a recent party. Congrats you cute little boy, you never let us down.

December 9, 2009

Pilgrims and Voldemort

Yep, that's veronica just casually holding a pistol, such a scarface pose.

The only person who ever consistently hits anything

Look how happy we are before the run, so naive.


Could there be a better holiday? This, in every way, is a rhetorical question, because it is an obvious 'NAY! There could not!' The entire tradition is based around food. I don't know any of those Indian-befriending pilgrims personally, but I do indeed appreciate what they have done for the quality of living in my November days. It's just all in all my favorite holiday. Fun Fact About Rachelle #7,892. This vacation based trip down to So. Ute was another success. I know, my new obsession with firearms has got to be controlled, and quick. First came the always feared, always regretted, but always participated-in Turkey Trot. Seriously never fails to be the hardest run of the year. Sorry you puked your innards out Em, you're still a lady in my eyes. The fam dam then did the annual skeet shooting out past my favorite pliggys, ate pie whilst shooting, and then proceeded to the home front, where linnie lou lived up to her infamous title as best chef in North America (refer to recent Parks & Rec episode). My favorite, and fairly new tradition added to the Ballard & Co Thanksgiving Table is that of the hate-fest. Last year me and a couple of my DNA-binding comrades, aka siblings/cousins, decided instead of doing the traditional every-person-says-what-they're-thankful-for-before-devouring-mouth-watering-delicatessens, we should all say one thing we REALLY hate while we are eating. It is now a smash hit and I usually laugh an adequate amount for at least one side serving to come out of my nose. Kudos family, kudos. Later that weekend we went paintballing. My very first paintballing experience. Memorable. Painful. Colorful? I actually thoroughly enjoyed the paintballing practice, until I actually got hit in the last game. I'm not going to condemn myself and say that I was a clean-mouthed saint upon being struck...for I was not. Even Linnie lou joined in, she being the reason I was hit 3 times. Thanks mother, your protective instincts for your young cannot be rivaled.

Little G-ma thelma was a trooper, a hypothermic trooper

Cute little Andy Pandy fell into the river between games. Hence the nudity. Bless his heart. Don't worry, we made sure he didn't surrender in vain.

Lastly and Highly most importantly comes the topic of the newest member of my fave five. that adorable little bird is soon to be in my life, apart of me, the Watson to my Holmes. I believe him coming into my life is a very symbolic testament that the heavens are happy with my current life choices. Don't ask how I got that interpretation, it's all very metaphorical. But, here is the dilemma. Bird needs a name. I am all set to embark on our feathered journey together, it must have a name worthy of the adventures we are likely to pursue. So, I'm open to suggestions. The top picks as of now are: Suki (gilmore girls fans will appreciate), Voldemort, and Professor. Please add any others you see fit. We don't know the gender of these birds unless we do a DNA test, I figure this to be a benefit seeing as you may pick any feminine or testosterone filled name you choose.

November 24, 2009

Nothin But A G-Thang Baby / Mommy - Myth? Nay, Legend

What is this you ask? Me, Rachelle, Ms. Ballard if you will, taking a loaded weapon and firing of her own free will and choice? Yes dear readers, this is not a cyber hoax, it is me. It's me, shamelessly practicing my Obama-inhibiting second ammendment right to bear freaking arms. I perhaps appear to be hypocritical to a few specimens that have the pleasure of knowing me well. I have never been a lover of guns, and if given the choice on a multiple choice survey or a government sponsored ballot, I would vote for the disintegration of all guns. Never have loved em. But, after complaining about school for 1,739 hours to Matt and calling it 'stupid' over and over (yes, I know, my verbiage should place me in a scholastic literary hall-of-fame at this point. My brain is fried. don't judge me) Matt took me to a shooting range, placed that 40cal in my stubby costco-hotdog fingers and let me go crazy. Can I just say that It felt great, nay, it was intoxicating/prodigious/euphoric. I know understand all the hype. Although I still do not endorse the whole hunting practice (do not put antlers on me and hide all of my orange all southern utahns, please), I did, however, love this arena of steel and powder. Can I just say that I think I loved it because usually, when the relate-ives go shooting clay pigeons (why are they called pigeons and not hockey pucks?) I usually .... well, suck for a lack of better words. BIG time. Those infamous little devils are wiley and refuse to be hit by my bullets. But at this Get Some Guns and Ammo I was at the top of my game. If you'll notice my 'grouping,' as Ted at the shop told me it was called, is quite good. All of the shots on the hostage were aimed there, FYI. Skanky hostages deserve a lesson or two, Ya win some Ya lose some.
In the end and most importantly, I fully suspect my street cred to up 52 points.


That's what friends/roomates/classmates, etc know my mother as. They all just call her mommy. All of you that know her will be bored because the amazingness of the woman is already concreted in your cabeza no doubt. Also everyone knows that I only have friends because of the endless benefits mommy provides. If I was a missionary, peeps would be begging to be my comp - because of my testimony and people skills? False, because of the packages sent by mommy, easy. Fact: I am blessed, aka spoiled. Fact: Mommy has made my college life a breeze. Fact: If you ever hear me complain you have every god-given right to not only slap me but to paralyze my very tongue. I get frequent little goodies from the home front and they are always desirable little delicatessans. Let me just boast for a moment on how amazing mommy is just this week:

She MADE this cute little coat rack.

she MADE this jewelry frame

She brings me favorite of all the gifts. ZITS and Dilbert, what would my morning be without you?

You'll notice in the box some granola, cleaning supplies, new tubberware (I do NOT feel bad that I can't spell tubberware. I feel like it aids the feminist movement), and all sorts of little goodies.

Thanks mommy SO much for everything. You're a diamond in the roughest patches of humans and only the Book of Life in the C-kingdom will ever know t'why I didn't recieve any of your domestic abilities or general sweetness....I blame father.

November 3, 2009

REM was right. It's The End of The World As We Know It


It's a great month. I actually love it. A couple of my favorite people were born this month. Please, don't feel saddened if you're not a scorpio, it's not your fault, it's your parents. Among these people is my dear old dad, my paps, pappa bear, punky brucester, etc. If you know me I have probably bragged about my father to you. It's not something I'm proud of, it's a sue me. One thing that I refrain from adding in the list of 'my dad is better than your dad at....' is his overwhelming naivety of the technological tongue. He is clueless, bless his heart. But, for the big boys fifty third, whether because a lack of gift ideas or a distinct sense of humor, his gift this year was a blackberry. Yep, a blackberry. Those cute, trendy little life managers the size of cracker. I find this hilarious. I'm excited about it. So, get the man's number and email and send him any fun little tid bits you want and we can imagine together the hilarity of him trying to find out how to read slash open it. Good luck pops, expect many a game-face sent from my blackberry to yours.

On another note, life has been crazy nuts. School, housing, friends, etc. It's just been a bit hectic. I pride myself in not getting stressed out, and I have been bordering that ever cursed word and I'm ashamd and baffled. So, yesterday after my run, (in a beautiful, fall stricken SLC mind you, quite warm too = god loves me) I was lying on the grass median that runs through my street doing a bit of needed stretching. *sidenote: I'm terribly unflexible. I hate it. I found out that despite my constant struggle with it, it will never become easy. It's genetic. Thanks parents. Thanks a heep. Anyway, I was laying there stretching my lower lumbar and I stopped and just stared at the sky for a bit. It was mesmorizing. I just layed there thinking nothing thoughts for about 5 mintues. I love the sky. So, I have thus been making it a regular goal, to lay down and just stare at the big, beautiful sky for 5 minutes a day. It really puts things in perspective I think. So, if and when you're having a rough day and feel like you've been asked to handle Job-like struggles, just go outside, (preferably not at noon-ish, the sun hurts your eyes then) and stare at the sky or 5 minutes. That's it, just 5 minutes. I put my stamp on that and guarantee that it will help. Also, try not to do it when the lawns been recently watered. Still a nice experience, but a little less than supreme when the realization hits you.

October 18, 2009

Fall Break and Ballard Gal Good Times

*The colors on my blog make me queezy. It's SO sad and hard.
There has been a lot of debate in my little cabeza about this blog lately. Ok, the term 'a lot' is a bit of an exaggeration and I'm being a bit dramatic=sue me. But the debate consists of two sides: A - write more, delving into quirky, yet true memoirs, or B-keep doing as I'm doing and attempt to build my resume for Pebbles In My Pocket by using pics and short explanations of distinct happenings. I mean, cause you get both in this here blogging world, and I admit, I feel the pull from both sides. Admitedly I like seeing others pics, but on the other hand, I also enjoy those who write more and delve into their 'inner chi' so to speak. Uh Ho, maybe shell shouldn't blog when going on lack of sleep, eh? With this gut-wrenching truth said, I'll just go with option B and tell you a bit about the chosen photos and t'why they are important in my small, yet optimistic existence.
So, I got off school for a week for fall break. Yep folks, I said a week. Gotta love the U and it's blatant desire to blow off the student's education. Thus I traveled down to the land of my inheritence and played with all the crazies. All my home boys are getting back from their missions, so it's fun to play with everyone again. Have they changed you ask? Weird? Awkward? Socially funked? Nope, not a mince of a change. Poncho came and played one night, and I think you can tell by the look on her face that she is a leetle bit questionable concerning the people and activities of H-town.

Callin, Isaiah, and Tyson Gubler in a lot of hard-to-explain attire

The sisters came up for our annual girls trip. We're missing the newest Ballard gal, Emily Althea. We missed ya em. We usually go to witch's night out at gardner village, but the crowds were cramping our style. So we opted for a Park City fiesta. Did not let us down. We downed Melissa's fantazmagorical (real word, serious biz) nachos and got pedicures. The sweet little viatnamese women found it necessary to keep telling us how bad we needed to get these every month. Yes, ok, we have hoofs. Our feet, thanks to our gene pool, are dry, peeling things. Not very appealing. Their english was hardly understandable until they started telling us how bad our feet looked, then all of a sudden they spoke with a refined english tongue. cute

October 5, 2009

End of an Era

Ah....I don't even really know what sentiments I want to portray. Am I happy? A bit reminiscent? Sad? Wistful? Nay, who is really ever wistful, I just always like to think I am. The word you're looking for when that adjective nearly escapes your lips is tired, you are tired. Stop trying to romantisize it. Thanks. (that's mostly for me, FYI). Mmhem, Anyway, back to the tale at hand. It is the end of a distinct tally in the timeline of my life. Things that I love are finding subtle ways of meandering, ever so gracefully and nonchalantly as could be imagined out of my life. My back pack has finally seen its last zip up (and zip down for that matter, the zippers are broken). T'will never hold my Chris Farley weighted load of books again. We've had some good times together. I realized recently that I have had the same back pack, book bag, papoose, or whatever name makes you feel most school-girl-ish, since I was in 6th grade. I have names on the back from when I let my peers write ever so contemplative quotes like, 'You da bomb!' and 'Ur a QT!' etc, etc. But, on the other hand, where one zipper closes another opens. I LOVE my new one. It has a pocket for positively everything even Survivor Man could possibly need. Costco, you've done it again. Renewed my faith in the ever ridiculed American Consumer Dream!

Next on the 'God Be With You Til We Meet Again' agenda is my beloved Farmer's Market. Yes, I have a slight obsession. It's an entire city park filled with crazy humans (mostly hippies, an obvious r.b. fave) celebrating funky crafts, local music, and best of all F.O.O.D. Fresh fruit, veggies and an overwhelming amount of tasty little tid bits to take your palette for a trip down flavors splash mountain. It's last week is this week and I'm feeling tons of euphoria. The I'll miss that all-you-can-eat mango salsa.

(whitney and poncho at F.M. sorry it's fuzzy, taken from the mobile)
Next we have my new adventure of longboarding. My roomate Jo (god bless you J-dog), is a PHENOM longboarder. They go 'sliding' up at the stadium quite often and I want to be good at it SO bad it makes my innards queezy. I've been trying, but I'm just more dangerous than I am gutsy and more clutsy than coordinated. I know what you people who know me are thinking, 'bone-breaking-ballard should just simmer down.' don't fear, I wear a helmet. but with the weather getting more and more freezing by the milisecond, I fear my hopes of becoming the next lord of dogtown will have to wait till next season. But no fear, we have atleast a couple more weeks.
(me and jo)

(Jo and Andy) But, with everything getting freezing balls cold I must say I love SLC in the fall. Love it. Too bad the english language often lets us down for variety on emotions, so love is all I'm left with. SLC's general vibe was meant for the fall time. Too bad it's the best and shortest season, a good month, maybe, before hell, fire and damnation begin in the bitter form of freezing snow puffs. Anyway, it's so beautiful up here right now, and the smells, ah! the smells! Have you noticed that your memory is spiked so much by smells? I have noticed that my memory is particularly active in the fall time. It seems I'm constantly being swept up in moments the minute I step outside. A lot of times I can remember what it's reminding me of, but just as frequently the smell is just familiar....great, and familiar.

September 12, 2009

Some Other Happenings - That have nothing to do with school

Thus more I am alive and well in the BAMF citay of SLC. Here's just some thangs I've been up to.
Utah Utes football game opener against the Aggies = no brainer victory (no offense to my L-town peeps).
Poncho and I have been into candy bar posters lately. We are still in complete bafflement as to why they are not around like they used to be. They are a classic and should be shared with all those whom you love. After all, it's a card AND a treat.
Shooting the Tube: This is a my fave new adventure. There's this huge pipe by parleys canyon where a couple of Einsteins decided to build a sort of retractable dam. Thus, after the water fills up, people pile into this HUGE tube and release the dam, shooting you out into a pool of water (and a couple rocks, but no worries). It's the best thing since my beloved Wet n' Wild shut down. It shoots you out crazy fast, so be prepared, I also recommend you bring a pan to sit on, works wonders.

Me and Brian at U game

To some of the boys who helped us move in

Barb = that exotic devil

Jo and I before shooting the tube....

Random. But I just love it and it hangs in our home proudly

coming out of the tube

Me, Poncho, and Jo. Look at poncho's sad little arm. She's just so small and helpless;)

Emily, Mallory, Miko and Haylee post shooting

Seriously, how cute

The infamous tube

Jeb, Jo, Myself, and Miko after shooting tube

That dog shot the tube. CRAZY NUTS

Some of the boys

The roomies and myself (and britt) took some photos one evening and they were all themed. This one is you just saw a smurf, and he looks interested.

Lord Of The Manor (or treehouse)

Da Dada DAAAA!!!! The tree house
living room

kitchen slash back stairs

hallway concealing our rooms

front stairs

Front room

dining room

Bunk Buddies!! Yep, there's bunk talk atleast thrice a week.

Barb's bad A- chalkboard wall

Back stairs

Yep, I know, it's been 97 years since I last posted and the people will have it no longer! So, I've gone ahead and grown up all big and moved into a new place. Yes, the nostalgia from when I was just a wee lass, barely big enough to hold up my own head ( wasn't too long ago, I have a decent sized cabeza) is killing your sentimental hearts. No fear, I'm still jenny from the block. But let me share a bit about it with you: It is called 'The Treehouse." It is appropriately called this because you have to walk up a flight of stairs to get to it, whether you go from the front or the back. I LOVE IT! I have phenom roomies and we have far too much fun together. Poncho (the lil one) and I are bunk buddies, and then theres Jo and Barb. It's a quirky, cute little place and we had to do quite a few repairs. For instance: The toilet, upon moving in, would only flush about every 75 minutes. You say, 'biggie?' I dare say yes, yes a humongous biggie. Timing one's bowels is no easy task on a day to day basis. But, with the help of some man-scouts in our ward we can now relieve whatever we wish whenever we wish. Anyway, here's some pics of the place