Truth be told, I'm about 45% as into music as Steve is. He loves music all the time, I do not. Don't misunderstand me though, I love listening to my favorite songs and artists when the mood strikes. Steve's mood for music happens to always be struck. Here are some songs that I consistently love almost always.
1. The Swimming Song - Vetiver
2. I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
This may be my favorite song of all time for two reasons. Number one, I like it every time I listen to it. Secondly, it reminds me of swim team, the first boy who told me he liked me (which was big for me) and people who love each other (like Steve and I and maybe others). It's pretty great.
3. The General - Dispatch
This is a very important song from my mid-teens. My cousin Heather graciously helped raise my younger siblings and I, with a firm fist and speedy cookie making, and would take us camping with during the summers. It was the best to feel cool and part of the hip-cousin scene. She would always have a CD burned especially for that trip. This song was on one of those CDs. Heather also introduced me to many important alternative bands of the late `90s and `00s that I never would have known about otherwise. I owe her much.
4. Big Machine - Goo Goo Dolls
I love this band. I don't care what anyone else has to say about them. I thought they were awesome when I was younger and I still do now. They also wrote a song for an awesome movies I loved when younger, and I may still love now, Treasure Planet.
5. Lost and Gone - Guster
This is a rare album. It's one that I like every song listed and am willing to listen to on repeat for several hours. I once played the album while snowboarding at Beaver which was one of the coolest music-inspiring experience. It seems to be snow music. I don't normally have music tied to specific activities but if I ever snowboard again in life, you can be sure I'll be listening to this album. Thanks to Chelsea McMahon Navas.
6. Is This Love - Bob Marley
This is a song Steve and
I love. We call it our wedding song. I love songs that have lyrics
pertaining to things I know about and simple melodies that don't blow my
mind. It's perfect, and it makes me think of Steve.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
You don't need a gender when you're rich.
I was talking with my sister Rachel earlier this day. She is the firstborn, and I the second. Here is a close-to-verbatim of our conversation:
S: We would be so rich if mom and dad had stopped having kids after the first two
R: (Posh male/female voice) Ah yes, I've just been with all the ladies at the polo club.
S: Are you a girl or a boy being rich?
R: I'm obviously still a woman, hanging out with the rich ladies at the club.
S: You don't need gender when you're rich obviously.
R: Gender is a poor man's game.
There are a couple genders in our family, namely the most important two: male and female.
Sometimes we will joke about how life would have been if our parents ceased having children after the the first two excellent girls. This is a game any sibling can play no matter what the birth order. It's always an interesting game to play at siblings' birthday parties.
So as we discuss the benefit of the first two children in our family, I thought it important to mention how rich we would have been with only a four-person family. Loaded, I tell you, simply loaded. I don't think it's so much about my father's occupation (software engineer) as it is about the sheer lack of people to care for. Less mental strain as well. However, there are cons to consider:
I'm glad things worked out the way they have for the Russak family. Excellent work mom and dad. Way to go Rachel, Sarah, Moriah, Matthew, Anna and Michel. Steve also comes from a larger family and I am quite fond of his awesome upbringing. So thumbs up Kent parents and Katie, Kara, Lisa, Steve, Bob and Will. Families are essential, siblings are very important (and fun) and being filthy rich isn't everything.
I'm still not sure if I'll make it to having more than one child though, pregnancy is essentially important yet filthy hard.
S: We would be so rich if mom and dad had stopped having kids after the first two
R: (Posh male/female voice) Ah yes, I've just been with all the ladies at the polo club.
S: Are you a girl or a boy being rich?
R: I'm obviously still a woman, hanging out with the rich ladies at the club.
S: You don't need gender when you're rich obviously.
R: Gender is a poor man's game.
There are a couple genders in our family, namely the most important two: male and female.
Sometimes we will joke about how life would have been if our parents ceased having children after the the first two excellent girls. This is a game any sibling can play no matter what the birth order. It's always an interesting game to play at siblings' birthday parties.
 |
| Sarah's side |
So as we discuss the benefit of the first two children in our family, I thought it important to mention how rich we would have been with only a four-person family. Loaded, I tell you, simply loaded. I don't think it's so much about my father's occupation (software engineer) as it is about the sheer lack of people to care for. Less mental strain as well. However, there are cons to consider:
- We would still be living in Salt Lake instead of my favorite place, Cache Valley
- I wouldn't know many of the awesome people I do now (mostly including the man I married)
- We certainly would have been robbed more than zero times (as has been the case in Smithfield)
- I think I'd be an evil snob
- You have more friends as a child (very important as you may not make friends in school)
- It's always loud and raucous, which equals everything important to kids
- More fun on holidays, birthdays, outings to the zoo and pretty much every activity
- A ton of secret codes and inside jokes that aren't funny to anyone else
- So much love
 |
| Steve's side |
I'm still not sure if I'll make it to having more than one child though, pregnancy is essentially important yet filthy hard.
Reading Playlist 1: To read like a champ
Each week, we pick a few songs and load them into a Grooveshark widget for your reading pleasure. If Sarah complains about the playlist, she's joking.
This week's songs are all the songs I could think of about boxing. Plus some songs that make me think of boxing. I've been feeling a little demotivated lately, and nothing makes you want to run up a hundred stairs or run behind a fat man on a bicycle in a pink track suit than boxing songs.
1. "Eye of the Tiger" by Journey
Thanks to Rock Band, my nephew knew all the words to this song when he was 6. My sister said once, at a hockey practice, he got exhausted and lay on the ice for several minutes. When it was time to go, my sister persuaded him to get up and skate to the rink doors. As he skated away, she heard him mumbling something. When she asked, he said he was singing "Eye of the Tiger" for motivation.
A couple of weeks ago, I rode my bike along with Sarah while she went jogging. I tried singing this song to help her train. She told me to stop it.
2. The theme from Rocky
Whenever I see long staircases, I get this song in my head.
3. "Turtle" from the Cinderella Man soundtrack
Cinderella Man is probably my favorite movie. Watch the clip from 1:07 to get the song title.
4. "The Warrior's Code" by the Dropkick Murphys
This is a song about the boxer Mickey Ward. The Dropkick Murphys, in my estimation, are some of the most authentic folk musicians of our time.
5. "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC
How did they ever play this on the radio? The intro is longer than a full minute. Still, it's a great one to get you pumped.
6. "Arco Arena" by Cake
This one has nothing to do with boxing. I'm pretty sure of it.
7. The fight music in Punch-Out!!
This is what I envisioned when I agreed to ride my bike while Sarah jogs. If you haven't played Punch-Out!!, you're missing out on the best (only?) boxing game from the NES.
8. "The Body of an American" by the Pogues
"But he never threw a fight when the fight was right, so they sent him to the wars." You can't tell what Shane McGowan is saying 70 percent of the time, and 20 percent of the time you don't even want to. It's all poetry in my book, though.
This week's songs are all the songs I could think of about boxing. Plus some songs that make me think of boxing. I've been feeling a little demotivated lately, and nothing makes you want to run up a hundred stairs or run behind a fat man on a bicycle in a pink track suit than boxing songs.
1. "Eye of the Tiger" by Journey
Thanks to Rock Band, my nephew knew all the words to this song when he was 6. My sister said once, at a hockey practice, he got exhausted and lay on the ice for several minutes. When it was time to go, my sister persuaded him to get up and skate to the rink doors. As he skated away, she heard him mumbling something. When she asked, he said he was singing "Eye of the Tiger" for motivation.
A couple of weeks ago, I rode my bike along with Sarah while she went jogging. I tried singing this song to help her train. She told me to stop it.
2. The theme from Rocky
Whenever I see long staircases, I get this song in my head.
Cinderella Man is probably my favorite movie. Watch the clip from 1:07 to get the song title.
4. "The Warrior's Code" by the Dropkick Murphys
This is a song about the boxer Mickey Ward. The Dropkick Murphys, in my estimation, are some of the most authentic folk musicians of our time.
5. "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC
How did they ever play this on the radio? The intro is longer than a full minute. Still, it's a great one to get you pumped.
6. "Arco Arena" by Cake
This one has nothing to do with boxing. I'm pretty sure of it.
7. The fight music in Punch-Out!!
This is what I envisioned when I agreed to ride my bike while Sarah jogs. If you haven't played Punch-Out!!, you're missing out on the best (only?) boxing game from the NES.8. "The Body of an American" by the Pogues
"But he never threw a fight when the fight was right, so they sent him to the wars." You can't tell what Shane McGowan is saying 70 percent of the time, and 20 percent of the time you don't even want to. It's all poetry in my book, though.
Friendship Campground
By Steve Kent
Sarah and I went on a hike Saturday. We drove up Logan Canyon to Right Hand Fork, which we followed until it turned into the Left Hand Fork of Blacksmith Fork Canyon. I don't know why they throw that extra "fork" in the last one. I think they should just call it Blacksmith Canyon, but I guess I didn't find it, so I don't get to name it.
The maples were on fire in Logan Canyon, figuratively (thankfully, since it's been such a bad year for fires). They were a nice, dark red. The kind of red on Calvin's wagon. Right Hand Fork was already a dusty tan color, and we stopped at a crossroads with hunters on it. I noticed our tires were a little low. Luckily, we got a battery with jumper-cables, tire pump, spotlight and USB ports built in for our wedding (thanks, Sid and Paula). We named it Bruce.
As Bruce buzzed around on the dirt, filling our tires, I lectured Sarah on hiker safety during hunting season. According to the rules of hunting, unless you're wearing fluorescent orange, you're fair game. I forgot our orange at home, so I told Sarah to look less delicious and duck if she saw hunters.
The trail was dry, and while it had a few bumps, our Ford Focus made it
through like a champ. If you drive through in your sedan, the worst
hazard on the trail will be the stink-eye from hunters in massive
pickups who were feeling tough until they saw you in your Ford Focus.
A few miles from Left Hand Fork Road, we stopped at a small campground for the hike portion of our hike. We saw stepping stones in a line across the stream, pointing to a dusty slope. The slope led to the foot of a light-brown cliff, slightly overhanging. We hopped across, and sure enough, we found bolted climbing routes. I couldn't see the anchors, so I wanted to hike around and rappel off the top to find them, but Sarah objected. We hiked around anyway, but didn't find the anchors. There were a couple of dry old trees at the top. Trusting them as a natural anchor would be like handing the rope to a wily old man and telling him not to let go.
On the slope, we saw a pheasant, the size, shape and color of a football. I might have kicked him, but I was trying to be stealthy so I wouldn't get shot, and I've never been that good at football.
As we drove toward Hyrum on Left Hand Fork Road, we passed Friendship Campground. There was nobody in it. There were people in the miles all around it: people swarming around on ATVs; people brushing down horses; people squinting through rifle sights, checking for orange trucker hats. You can't blame the campers for spreading out, though. We passed enough camp sites up Left Hand Fork to accommodate the entire population of Hyrum, with room left over for Nibley.
I figure some day, when Sarah and I are feeling friendly, we'll go back and pitch our tent in Friendship Campground. And if the ATVs bother us, I'll hook Bruce up to some speakers and play "Have You Ever Heard a Digital Accordion" by the Lovely Eggs until they leave.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
The Dream of The 1890s.
I like to crochet. That's about as crafty as it gets for me. It's clean, simple and ready to go whenever you are. All other crafts I have attempted before this turned into half-finished projects guiltily stashed in a closet. Take sewing for example. I like the idea of sewing, you make something really useful in bright colors and as a gift it's just about the coolest thing you can give. A well sewn blanket makes others oo and ah, a pair of jeans would send most anybody over the moon with astonishment.
My mother loves sewing and sewed her way into legend during her early years. Costumes for church productions, clothes for herself (including the astonishing jeans), wedding dresses and even little miniature clothes for Barbies. She had it all, and still does in fact. It's her ultimate dream, I believe, to have an army of seamstresses slave away to accomplish her daring designs while she takes on the most beautiful, awe-inspiring projects herself. This dream would be hard to beat, particularly because it includes an army of seamstresses.
When I got married, I was worried I would have to step it up, craft style. I don't like most crafty things, I dislike decorating and I become miffed when I see women who are so craft-tastic act as if it's 'nothing'. Crochet is my gateway into the world of crafty women as I see it. It's the only d.i.y. activity that I find joy instead of shame and guilt in. And that's okay.
Women, wives and mothers come in all shapes and sizes, right? I believe so. Why should it be any different with the level of crafty, homemade skill that a female possesses? It should not and is not as far as I'm concerned. Though no one ever actually told me I'm a failure at homemaking, these thoughts and conclusions came after an intense, internal battle with my developing role as wife and soon-to-be mother.
So continue on Pinterest crafters. Strive to can your way to food storage security my hippie friends. Make all the hair flowers, aprons and quilts that you can. I applaud what you can do because you like to do it. I don't.
I like to crochet. That's about as crafty as it gets for me. It's clean, simple and ready to go whenever you are. All other crafts I have attempted before this turned into half-finished projects guiltily stashed in a closet. Take sewing for example. I like the idea of sewing, you make something really useful in bright colors and as a gift it's just about the coolest thing you can give. A well sewn blanket makes others oo and ah, a pair of jeans would send most anybody over the moon with astonishment.
My mother loves sewing and sewed her way into legend during her early years. Costumes for church productions, clothes for herself (including the astonishing jeans), wedding dresses and even little miniature clothes for Barbies. She had it all, and still does in fact. It's her ultimate dream, I believe, to have an army of seamstresses slave away to accomplish her daring designs while she takes on the most beautiful, awe-inspiring projects herself. This dream would be hard to beat, particularly because it includes an army of seamstresses.
When I got married, I was worried I would have to step it up, craft style. I don't like most crafty things, I dislike decorating and I become miffed when I see women who are so craft-tastic act as if it's 'nothing'. Crochet is my gateway into the world of crafty women as I see it. It's the only d.i.y. activity that I find joy instead of shame and guilt in. And that's okay.
Women, wives and mothers come in all shapes and sizes, right? I believe so. Why should it be any different with the level of crafty, homemade skill that a female possesses? It should not and is not as far as I'm concerned. Though no one ever actually told me I'm a failure at homemaking, these thoughts and conclusions came after an intense, internal battle with my developing role as wife and soon-to-be mother.
So continue on Pinterest crafters. Strive to can your way to food storage security my hippie friends. Make all the hair flowers, aprons and quilts that you can. I applaud what you can do because you like to do it. I don't.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
I think I ought to tell you.
If you want to have a baby, try and remember that feeling that got you into this mess. After I found out, through the oh-so graceful pee-on-a-stick method, I was all giddy and excited. And then I became more and more pregnant and I honestly thought to myself "I don't want to be pregnant no more." This feeling came as a pretty big surprise to me. Steve can attest that I was all about having babies. I felt like it was the next big thing for me, and now for us. But oh my, pregnancy is a cruel taskmaster sometimes and is nowhere near the experience I've heard regaled by countless mothers after the fact. It sounded much more like a magical pony ride than an emotional knockout with physical duress.
I can say, however, that when I saw baby Kent on the sonogram I started to feel the excitement and happiness I was hoping for. Sure, the baby looks like an alien tadpole at that stage and sure, you still feel pretty horrible but I my heart started racing and tears started flowing as I saw the baby in real time, wiggling all around.That's when it felt real, not just like having PMS for three months.
Husbands are an essential part to any pregnancy. Not only because their initial investment, but also their continued sponsorship throughout. My sponsor is the best. Steve constantly reminds me of happy things, about the baby being here and that he things I'm beautiful all the time. I don't know if body image is as big of a deal for anyone else, but I have just about lost it more than a couple times as I've watched my body change. I'm fairly controlling with my weight, how I workout and what I eat as I'm positive 75-99% of women are. I never thought I'd be 'that pregnant lady' who didn't enjoy the magical changes coming over my body. But I sure didn't and don't. It's a process, one I hope to conquer but probably not till the veil of deceiving forgetfulness comes over me after birth.Being married is the best, but it takes work and thought and tears and cookies. Having a family is the best, but it takes time and tears and stretch marks and emotional jujitsu. So get married and have a family, it's the best thing you'll ever do.
Call me Rod Blogojevich
By Steve Kent
This blog will be a record of what happens when two people who are pretty bad at soliciting and following advice try to start a family together. In other words, it's a tragic-humor blog.
Sarah says I have to write every other blog post. I checked the blog's stats as I finished work a little after midnight. In the past couple of hours, it looks like at least 14 people have read Sarah's post. That makes this blog the most popular I've ever owned.
You should read Sarah's post, it's really good. If you haven't noticed, all the big colorful words in her article are hyperlinks. Also, some of the things she wrote don't apply to me. Contrary to her assertion, I am mean and hate some people.
I love Sarah, though. Partly as a result of this, she is pregnant. People tell stories about how wives can get cranky when pregnant; not Sarah. She bakes me cookies.
I'm a little scared. I've never been good at grown-up things, like filing taxes or remembering to vote. Part of me thinks I'll be a great father, and the other part has a lot of questions.
Part of me #1: Man, I'm gonna be great at raising a baby.
Part of me #2: Yeah? What are you going to do with a baby?
Part #1: I dunno. Play videogames? Eat sandwiches?
I don't even know what we'll name the baby. Thinking about it gives me weird feelings, sometimes. Right now, we're thinking of Dela, after the Beautiful Girls' cover of a song by that name. I listened to it four times in a row after my co-workers left the office tonight, and I almost cried. For those of you who don't know me, I'm really tough, so I rarely cry.
Even if we don't name her Dela, I think I'm going to sing that song as a lullaby.
Unless the baby turns out to be a boy. In which case — son, I apologize, if you're reading. I have other great names thought up for you.
BOSS US AROUND SEGMENT: If you've got advice for soon-to-be parents, leave it in the post comments. The most hilarious bit of advice wins a bag of Skittles. The most useful advice wins the successful perpetuation of the human race.
ADDED VALUE: Try saying the post title aloud.
This blog will be a record of what happens when two people who are pretty bad at soliciting and following advice try to start a family together. In other words, it's a tragic-humor blog.
Sarah says I have to write every other blog post. I checked the blog's stats as I finished work a little after midnight. In the past couple of hours, it looks like at least 14 people have read Sarah's post. That makes this blog the most popular I've ever owned.
You should read Sarah's post, it's really good. If you haven't noticed, all the big colorful words in her article are hyperlinks. Also, some of the things she wrote don't apply to me. Contrary to her assertion, I am mean and hate some people.
I love Sarah, though. Partly as a result of this, she is pregnant. People tell stories about how wives can get cranky when pregnant; not Sarah. She bakes me cookies.
I'm a little scared. I've never been good at grown-up things, like filing taxes or remembering to vote. Part of me thinks I'll be a great father, and the other part has a lot of questions.
Part of me #1: Man, I'm gonna be great at raising a baby.
Part of me #2: Yeah? What are you going to do with a baby?
Part #1: I dunno. Play videogames? Eat sandwiches?
I don't even know what we'll name the baby. Thinking about it gives me weird feelings, sometimes. Right now, we're thinking of Dela, after the Beautiful Girls' cover of a song by that name. I listened to it four times in a row after my co-workers left the office tonight, and I almost cried. For those of you who don't know me, I'm really tough, so I rarely cry.
Even if we don't name her Dela, I think I'm going to sing that song as a lullaby.
Unless the baby turns out to be a boy. In which case — son, I apologize, if you're reading. I have other great names thought up for you.
BOSS US AROUND SEGMENT: If you've got advice for soon-to-be parents, leave it in the post comments. The most hilarious bit of advice wins a bag of Skittles. The most useful advice wins the successful perpetuation of the human race.
ADDED VALUE: Try saying the post title aloud.
Monday, October 15, 2012
The Introduction of Kent Kingdom.
Congratulations! You've found your way into our musings that we shall share with you. I've never written on a blog before, and honestly I've avoided writing things that remind me of high school papers/essays so I don't have to be embarrassed. Steve is majoring in smarty-pants writing, however, so I think as his wife I must try to better my skills.
We decided we are an introverted,
people-disliking couple. That's not to say we are mean or actually hate
anyone. We just happen to prefer each other to anyone else and we don't
come across as "the couple to approach cause they seem so nice." That's
just not our style. We likely come off rather abrasively, like a medium-grade sand paper, not the rough grit that grinds away obvious faults
nor the fine tuning paper that brings out the smooth
texture right before finish. Somewhere in between those extremes. We
are friends with a more approachable couple and it works well for us. They
bring the innocence to our rough personalities, making others more
likely to approach us just by association. I'm grateful for opposites in
this world, otherwise we'd all have to try too hard to be every
personality type and end up not liking anyone.
P.S. I love the Crocodile Hunter. I am in no way trying to shame him, this is to honor him. His name is Steve and I married a Steve. I'm all about people named Steve.
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