Monday, October 24, 2011
Behold. My inner nerd.
I love inflicting Halloween costumes on my children. Juliet was old enough this year to decide what she wanted to be for Halloween. Bensen wasn't. But I am afraid he will be old enough next year -- so this might be my last epic Halloween costume.
Enjoy.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
So I ran 5k. Again.
Sorry this post is so over-due -- life got kind of crazy these last few weeks, but I did want to take a moment to write about my experience running the Susan G. Komen 5k. I had a lot of support from friends and family, and some great donations from loved ones and even folks I don't know. It is neat seeing people come together to help make a difference, and I feel like we did.
I am going to tell you the story of my 5k. And I want you to know that even though this was a struggle for me, I know that other's have real struggles in their lives, that those who have fought and are fighting cancer know how hard, lonely and awful it can be. I don't want my whiney post about hating to run to in anyway belittle that fight.
So. October 1st, 2011 I awoke early, got ready for my 5k, drove out to the starting point and waited for that gun to fire and send me off into delirious running oblivion.
Honestly, running that 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done. I have to admit, if running a 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done, I have had a pretty easy life. And I have. When I finally finished the 5k and sat down in my car I texted Brett "running that 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done." And now I will tell you why.
So I get there early, mainly because I get nervous when I go into a situation I'm not familiar with and I want to take stock of my surroundings and feel out what I'm supposed to be doing. And also because I didn't have any safety pins to pin my number on my shirt and I thought they'd probably have some and I wanted to get there early enough to find some. Mission accomplished. At any rate, there are a billion people there. In tiny groups, in big groups, couples, families, dogs (who weren't supposed to be there, shame on you!) and me. Kristina Foutz. All alone in the middle of this giant shifting kaleidoscope of people. And everyone is staring at me. And pointing. And one lady whispered loudly, "look at that doofenshmirtz here all by herself. Didn't she know when you come to run 5,000 miles you bring your entire extended family?" And then some people laughed and I tried to slink away but a huge spot light came down right on top of me and the guy on the stage said, "and we have a solo runner! Does anyone want to pretend to be her friend?" and even more people laughed.
Yep, I was waiting for that gun to go off and secretly hoping it would just shoot me in the face and put me out of my misery.
So somewhere far away we hear the gun shot and people start milling in a general direction. So I start milling that way too. Occasionally some guys in tube socks and wife beaters elbow their way through, trying to actually run in this mass of barely moving tiny groups, big groups, couples, families, dogs (who weren't supposed to be there, shame on you!) and me. I start feeling a little guilty because, well, I'm supposed to run the 5k right? But secretly I am relieved that it's impossible to run without being a major douche, and since I forgot my tube socks and wife beater at home I can take out the first k at my preferred pace. Slug.
The crowd starts to thin out and I realize I need to start running if I am ever going to get out of the walkers so I start running. Here's something depressing I learned -- my run pace is not much faster than most people's walk pace. So now that I am working twice as hard, I'm still not passing anyone. I'm as depressed as a little blue hornbill, imprisoned in some animal's ribcage, singing "I have got a lovely bunch of coconuts" (have you caught the reference yet or do I need to keep going?) to a surly lion who has usurped his brother's kingdom by murdering him and convincing the true heir that he was at fault and must run away or he will be hated by his mother and whole family. Who's name was Simba. From the LION KING. (I took you all the way there in case you didn't catch it)
Anyway, so I'm depressed. And running (very slowly) alone. This goes on for a couple more k, and up around the corner I see a bunch of bored looking cheerleaders. As I start to round the corner, they suddenly start to perk up and start doing a cute little cheer. I smile and wave at the cheerleaders, feeling my heavy heart grow a bit lighter. Two of the girls yell out "Keep up the good work! We love you grandma!"
I watch in horror as the most ancient lady I have ever seen passes me by, smiling and waving at the cheerleaders who continue to cheer her on. She goes around the corner and the girls all sit down again, bored.
So yes, I do run slower than a 90 year old grandma. This is too much for me. I finally turn the corner, leaving the dumb cheerleaders out of sight, and I walk. Because I ran a 5k the day before, and apparently you just aren't supposed to do that.
As I am walking, I look down a road and see more of the race. I can just cut through this block and take a whole k and half out of my run. It is beyond tempting. I see someone else who had the same idea turn down into the shortcut. This means it's okay, right? I can do it too? It doens't matter that he's carrying his shoes and his feet are bleeding, we're pretty much in the same situation, right?
I decide not to take the shortcut. Still not sure why I decided that.
So I start running again. I knew I was getting to the end because I could see other people, much more fit than I, running back towards me - searching for loved ones lost along the way. No one is running back for me, so I press on. Suddenly, I see the finishline! And there, between me and that last kilometer of race, is my beautiful white honda, waiting right where I parked it. So I veered off the track, hopped into my car, and drove home (picking up donuts on the way.)
Or I finished the race, and walked back to my car. You decide. Either way, donuts were involved.
I am going to tell you the story of my 5k. And I want you to know that even though this was a struggle for me, I know that other's have real struggles in their lives, that those who have fought and are fighting cancer know how hard, lonely and awful it can be. I don't want my whiney post about hating to run to in anyway belittle that fight.
So. October 1st, 2011 I awoke early, got ready for my 5k, drove out to the starting point and waited for that gun to fire and send me off into delirious running oblivion.
Honestly, running that 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done. I have to admit, if running a 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done, I have had a pretty easy life. And I have. When I finally finished the 5k and sat down in my car I texted Brett "running that 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done." And now I will tell you why.
So I get there early, mainly because I get nervous when I go into a situation I'm not familiar with and I want to take stock of my surroundings and feel out what I'm supposed to be doing. And also because I didn't have any safety pins to pin my number on my shirt and I thought they'd probably have some and I wanted to get there early enough to find some. Mission accomplished. At any rate, there are a billion people there. In tiny groups, in big groups, couples, families, dogs (who weren't supposed to be there, shame on you!) and me. Kristina Foutz. All alone in the middle of this giant shifting kaleidoscope of people. And everyone is staring at me. And pointing. And one lady whispered loudly, "look at that doofenshmirtz here all by herself. Didn't she know when you come to run 5,000 miles you bring your entire extended family?" And then some people laughed and I tried to slink away but a huge spot light came down right on top of me and the guy on the stage said, "and we have a solo runner! Does anyone want to pretend to be her friend?" and even more people laughed.
Yep, I was waiting for that gun to go off and secretly hoping it would just shoot me in the face and put me out of my misery.
So somewhere far away we hear the gun shot and people start milling in a general direction. So I start milling that way too. Occasionally some guys in tube socks and wife beaters elbow their way through, trying to actually run in this mass of barely moving tiny groups, big groups, couples, families, dogs (who weren't supposed to be there, shame on you!) and me. I start feeling a little guilty because, well, I'm supposed to run the 5k right? But secretly I am relieved that it's impossible to run without being a major douche, and since I forgot my tube socks and wife beater at home I can take out the first k at my preferred pace. Slug.
The crowd starts to thin out and I realize I need to start running if I am ever going to get out of the walkers so I start running. Here's something depressing I learned -- my run pace is not much faster than most people's walk pace. So now that I am working twice as hard, I'm still not passing anyone. I'm as depressed as a little blue hornbill, imprisoned in some animal's ribcage, singing "I have got a lovely bunch of coconuts" (have you caught the reference yet or do I need to keep going?) to a surly lion who has usurped his brother's kingdom by murdering him and convincing the true heir that he was at fault and must run away or he will be hated by his mother and whole family. Who's name was Simba. From the LION KING. (I took you all the way there in case you didn't catch it)
Anyway, so I'm depressed. And running (very slowly) alone. This goes on for a couple more k, and up around the corner I see a bunch of bored looking cheerleaders. As I start to round the corner, they suddenly start to perk up and start doing a cute little cheer. I smile and wave at the cheerleaders, feeling my heavy heart grow a bit lighter. Two of the girls yell out "Keep up the good work! We love you grandma!"
I watch in horror as the most ancient lady I have ever seen passes me by, smiling and waving at the cheerleaders who continue to cheer her on. She goes around the corner and the girls all sit down again, bored.
So yes, I do run slower than a 90 year old grandma. This is too much for me. I finally turn the corner, leaving the dumb cheerleaders out of sight, and I walk. Because I ran a 5k the day before, and apparently you just aren't supposed to do that.
As I am walking, I look down a road and see more of the race. I can just cut through this block and take a whole k and half out of my run. It is beyond tempting. I see someone else who had the same idea turn down into the shortcut. This means it's okay, right? I can do it too? It doens't matter that he's carrying his shoes and his feet are bleeding, we're pretty much in the same situation, right?
I decide not to take the shortcut. Still not sure why I decided that.
So I start running again. I knew I was getting to the end because I could see other people, much more fit than I, running back towards me - searching for loved ones lost along the way. No one is running back for me, so I press on. Suddenly, I see the finishline! And there, between me and that last kilometer of race, is my beautiful white honda, waiting right where I parked it. So I veered off the track, hopped into my car, and drove home (picking up donuts on the way.)
Or I finished the race, and walked back to my car. You decide. Either way, donuts were involved.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Today I ran 5k.
10:30 p.m. - I wanted to thwart the sun's evil plan to destroy me with warm sunshiney rays and get up before sunrise to do my 5k. So I decided to go to bed early.
1:30 a.m. - Woken up to Brett's pleas for help. Juliet, after two days straight of cake and icecream, rebels against all the fun and sugar by throwing up noisily and messily in her bed. Bensen thankfully sleeps through it. I miss my washer and dryer desperately.
2:00 a.m. - Back to bed.
5:00 a.m. - Brett is yelling again. I get up to investigate. He is still up working on his project. He is yelling at the computer. I am annoyed. Back to bed.
6:30 a.m. - Brett finally comes to bed. Dude is crazy. But at least his project is done!
7:00 a.m. - Alarm goes off. I can hear Bensen awake, playing in the bathroom. I do not want to get up.
7:30 a.m. - Get out of bed. Get dressed. Neti my nose (seriously that thing is a lifesaver)
7:45 a.m. - start my run. Bob Marley's 3 little birds play, and although there aren't any birds on my doorstep, I do look out at the rising sun, and get a bit of a giggle.
My run:
a: Bob Marley is still playing, and I actually run past Bob Marley.
b: I am running without any ID and there is this little bridge here that doesn't have a sidewalk. I start imagining that I get hit by a car and fall down in this reservoir. I am too weak to crawl out. I rig my cellphone so that it becomes a tracking signal and attempt to flag down the doctor. For a moment I forget that Doctor Who is a fictional tv show I have been watching entirely too much of recently.
c: run into Bob Marley again, only this time he triest to hand me some literature about his bible study group. normally I would love to hang around, chat, and let him down easy. But I am already hating my life with more than 3 k to go. I breeze right past him saying (probably shouting because I am wearing earbuds) "I have a bible that I read thank you!" Poor Bob Marley. His song is way over, and "Riders on the storm" doesn't make me want to stop for anyone. I skipped most of it.
d: run past Justine's house. I feel sad, because Justine has lived here for a year now and we should have been best friends but I stink at making friends and I just never put any effort into it. She is moving far away this week. Also a little mexican man starts walking towards me. But he doesn't try to hand me literature about his bible study group, so I like him well enough and huff out a "morning" as I wobble by and think it is funny that I am listening to Bambaleo while I run past a mexican.
e: I must have blacked out because I do not remember running down this street at all.
f: around k 3 I start thinking that I will cut across the green line labeled f and go home. It was a great idea, but for some reason I didn't do it.
g: I remember imagining getting hit by a car near the beginning of my run and now I hope with all my might I will accidentally run into the free way and get killed instantly by oncoming traffic. But for some reason I didn't do it. My ipod is playing "Why do I keep counting" but all I hear is "Why do I keep running"
h: must have blacked out again.
i: This is a funny ol stretch of road. Last month when I started "running" I couldn't get up it and back down to my house again without wanting to die, and now I am running down it as the last k in my 5k. Granted, your athletic grandma could outrun me at this point, but c'mon, that's some progress!
I decide to walk for a minute but there are these movers staring at me so I decide not to. They watch me the whole rest of the street so I can't walk or they will know how fat I am. For some reason this made me think of my brother Daniel, ducking behind a bush after a short sprint so noone would see him panting. He is in much better shape now and can bike hundreds of miles. I can barely run 3.
j: I start halucinating. I see a man on a motorcycle and think it is Justin Pratt. I know it isn't Justin Pratt because Justin Pratt is dead. I know that I am hallucinating because Justing Pratt isn't dead, he's just in UT. Justin Pratt the undead motorcycle guy speeds away.
But I'm on the homestretch now, and "Major Tom" is playing, and by golly the earth below me feels like it is drifting, falling, but I am coming home.
k: I hit 5k and cry walk back to my apartment.
8:30 a.m. - Victory is mine.
I know what you are thinking, isn't the 5k tomorrow?
Why yes it is.
So why run 5k today?
To prove that I can. Just in case tomorrow I can't.
1:30 a.m. - Woken up to Brett's pleas for help. Juliet, after two days straight of cake and icecream, rebels against all the fun and sugar by throwing up noisily and messily in her bed. Bensen thankfully sleeps through it. I miss my washer and dryer desperately.
2:00 a.m. - Back to bed.
5:00 a.m. - Brett is yelling again. I get up to investigate. He is still up working on his project. He is yelling at the computer. I am annoyed. Back to bed.
6:30 a.m. - Brett finally comes to bed. Dude is crazy. But at least his project is done!
7:00 a.m. - Alarm goes off. I can hear Bensen awake, playing in the bathroom. I do not want to get up.
7:30 a.m. - Get out of bed. Get dressed. Neti my nose (seriously that thing is a lifesaver)
7:45 a.m. - start my run. Bob Marley's 3 little birds play, and although there aren't any birds on my doorstep, I do look out at the rising sun, and get a bit of a giggle.
My run:
b: I am running without any ID and there is this little bridge here that doesn't have a sidewalk. I start imagining that I get hit by a car and fall down in this reservoir. I am too weak to crawl out. I rig my cellphone so that it becomes a tracking signal and attempt to flag down the doctor. For a moment I forget that Doctor Who is a fictional tv show I have been watching entirely too much of recently.
c: run into Bob Marley again, only this time he triest to hand me some literature about his bible study group. normally I would love to hang around, chat, and let him down easy. But I am already hating my life with more than 3 k to go. I breeze right past him saying (probably shouting because I am wearing earbuds) "I have a bible that I read thank you!" Poor Bob Marley. His song is way over, and "Riders on the storm" doesn't make me want to stop for anyone. I skipped most of it.
d: run past Justine's house. I feel sad, because Justine has lived here for a year now and we should have been best friends but I stink at making friends and I just never put any effort into it. She is moving far away this week. Also a little mexican man starts walking towards me. But he doesn't try to hand me literature about his bible study group, so I like him well enough and huff out a "morning" as I wobble by and think it is funny that I am listening to Bambaleo while I run past a mexican.
e: I must have blacked out because I do not remember running down this street at all.
f: around k 3 I start thinking that I will cut across the green line labeled f and go home. It was a great idea, but for some reason I didn't do it.
g: I remember imagining getting hit by a car near the beginning of my run and now I hope with all my might I will accidentally run into the free way and get killed instantly by oncoming traffic. But for some reason I didn't do it. My ipod is playing "Why do I keep counting" but all I hear is "Why do I keep running"
h: must have blacked out again.
i: This is a funny ol stretch of road. Last month when I started "running" I couldn't get up it and back down to my house again without wanting to die, and now I am running down it as the last k in my 5k. Granted, your athletic grandma could outrun me at this point, but c'mon, that's some progress!
I decide to walk for a minute but there are these movers staring at me so I decide not to. They watch me the whole rest of the street so I can't walk or they will know how fat I am. For some reason this made me think of my brother Daniel, ducking behind a bush after a short sprint so noone would see him panting. He is in much better shape now and can bike hundreds of miles. I can barely run 3.
j: I start halucinating. I see a man on a motorcycle and think it is Justin Pratt. I know it isn't Justin Pratt because Justin Pratt is dead. I know that I am hallucinating because Justing Pratt isn't dead, he's just in UT. Justin Pratt the undead motorcycle guy speeds away.
But I'm on the homestretch now, and "Major Tom" is playing, and by golly the earth below me feels like it is drifting, falling, but I am coming home.
k: I hit 5k and cry walk back to my apartment.
8:30 a.m. - Victory is mine.
I know what you are thinking, isn't the 5k tomorrow?
Why yes it is.
So why run 5k today?
To prove that I can. Just in case tomorrow I can't.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The blog entry that never was.
So I had this fabu idea. See, while I run I usually think of all these amazing things I can post on my blog. Seriously they are golden. People see me running along, laughing hysterically to myself and think, "dang, that girl has got some awesome blogging ideas going on!" But then I get home, shower, take Brett to school, do something with my children, put everyone down for a nap, sit at the computer and.......... nothing! Cannot think of one golden nugget from that morning.
So yesterday I had this brilliant idea. I will take a pen and shorthand all my brilliant ideas onto my arm as I run. People see me running along, laughing hysterically to myself, scribbling all over my arm and think, "dang! that girl has really got things together! can't wait to read this blog entry!" But then I get home, shower, take Brett to school, do something with my children, put everyone down for a nap, sit at the computer and ......... since you all are higher life forms than myself I'm sure you already spotted the OBVIOUS problem. You know, the scribble all over my arm, get home, shower part?
So today I get even more brilliant and plan to write everything down the second I get home. You know, before I shower? Oh, all the best laid plans. Because today is the day I am going to run 5 whole k (because I only have 3 more practice days, EEP!) but today is also the day I get out of the house FORTY FIVE minutes later than usual. So instead of the awe-inspiringly hilarious blog entry this was supposed to be, you can enjoy today's arm scribbles.
S.I.2.H = sun is too hot
I.H.T.S = i hate the sun
T.S.I.M.M.E = the sun is my mortal enemy
I.W.K.E =
I'm actually a little ashamed of this scribble. Please keep in mind that today was supposed to be my day of total triumph. Yesterday I ran a world-record breaking time of 26 consecutive minutes (totally smashed my previous record of 10) and today I was supposed to run minimum 35 minutes, maximum whole 5k. I was going to at least complete the circuit even if I was cry walking by the end. But today, well, I ran 18 min (just over 2 k) and then I cry-walked my apples home. And in my bitter throws of agony I did not think "I want Kielbasa, Eminem!" No, no. My animosity towards running, and the sun, and delicious sausage extended to the world population.
I.W.K.E = i will kill everyone
Then a firetruck went by, and seriously
T.I.S.S.A.A.F.T = there is something sexy about a fire truck.
So yesterday I had this brilliant idea. I will take a pen and shorthand all my brilliant ideas onto my arm as I run. People see me running along, laughing hysterically to myself, scribbling all over my arm and think, "dang! that girl has really got things together! can't wait to read this blog entry!" But then I get home, shower, take Brett to school, do something with my children, put everyone down for a nap, sit at the computer and ......... since you all are higher life forms than myself I'm sure you already spotted the OBVIOUS problem. You know, the scribble all over my arm, get home, shower part?
So today I get even more brilliant and plan to write everything down the second I get home. You know, before I shower? Oh, all the best laid plans. Because today is the day I am going to run 5 whole k (because I only have 3 more practice days, EEP!) but today is also the day I get out of the house FORTY FIVE minutes later than usual. So instead of the awe-inspiringly hilarious blog entry this was supposed to be, you can enjoy today's arm scribbles.
S.I.2.H = sun is too hot
I.H.T.S = i hate the sun
T.S.I.M.M.E = the sun is my mortal enemy
I.W.K.E =
I'm actually a little ashamed of this scribble. Please keep in mind that today was supposed to be my day of total triumph. Yesterday I ran a world-record breaking time of 26 consecutive minutes (totally smashed my previous record of 10) and today I was supposed to run minimum 35 minutes, maximum whole 5k. I was going to at least complete the circuit even if I was cry walking by the end. But today, well, I ran 18 min (just over 2 k) and then I cry-walked my apples home. And in my bitter throws of agony I did not think "I want Kielbasa, Eminem!" No, no. My animosity towards running, and the sun, and delicious sausage extended to the world population.
I.W.K.E = i will kill everyone
 |
| I.W.K.E |
Then a firetruck went by, and seriously
T.I.S.S.A.A.F.T = there is something sexy about a fire truck.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Cuz she's my Cuz, and she beat Cancer.
I'm one of the youngest of about a billion cousins, so unfortunately most of them grew up without me. I'm finding out now how pretty awesome they are. No one has had a lot of interest in me cause I just barely started being awesome in the last year or so.
Amber is definitely one of the awesomest. She is a fighter and a survivor.
Have you joined the fight?
I asked Amber to write a little somethin' for my blog and she (because like I said, she's awesome) obliged. So listen up nuggets! (And oh my nerdiest reference I have ever made. Please tell me you don't know what that is from or I'll die of embarrassment.)
______________________________________________
Finally, it occurred to me that I don’t mind being a survivor. Having cancer was a scary, difficult experience, but it’s one of many experiences that have made me who I am. I wouldn’t undo it if I could. Also, I have to admit…I got a pretty nice rack out of the deal. Yes, they’re fake, but I don’t mind. I actually really want someone to comment on them, some day so I can quote an awesome t-shirt I once saw: “Yes, they’re fake. My real ones tried to kill me!” I don’t mind that I no longer get the sore shoulders and back that my double E’s used to give me. I don’t mind that gravity has lost some of its pull on “the girls”. I don’t mind that I’m still alive and kicking. I don’t mind that I am able to watch my two little girls become two beautiful young women. I don’t mind that I was able to (with a little help from my hubby) bring three more gorgeous, brilliant, lively, wonderful children into our family. I don’t mind that I savor life just a little bit more than I used to. It’s a good life.
Amber is definitely one of the awesomest. She is a fighter and a survivor.
Have you joined the fight?
I asked Amber to write a little somethin' for my blog and she (because like I said, she's awesome) obliged. So listen up nuggets! (And oh my nerdiest reference I have ever made. Please tell me you don't know what that is from or I'll die of embarrassment.)
______________________________________________
I was five months shy of my 29th birthday when I received news that rocked my world. The large lump in my right breast wasn’t a cyst. It wasn’t a clogged milk duct. It was a cancerous tumor. And it wasn’t alone. In fact, it had several nasty friends, throughout my breast, and they were plotting my demise.
The surreal feeling that followed that revelation never did really leave. Today, 8+ years later, it still seems strange to me that I’m one of those “one in eight” women that we’re always hearing about. But I am.
Several things have occurred to me since embarking on my cancer experience. I’d like to share a handful of them.
First of all, it occurred to me that we really, really, REALLY need to be careful what we wish for. I was an overly busty girl who always wished I could get a breast reduction. Boy, did I get my reduction!
Second, it occurred to me we’re, each of us, more than just a sum of our parts. My amazing husband was key to putting that fact into perspective for me. His unconditional love and devotion carried me through the emotional turmoil of the flat chest and the bald eyebrows and the shiny head. He saw ME. He helped me to see ME, too. In turn, I now try to see others as they really are, not just as a sum of what I can see…their parts, but as a whole, divine creature.
Third, it occurred to me that there’s a certain coolness about having had breast cancer, especially having it so young. Pink ribbons are trendy. Facebook makes the news for breast cancer awareness gimmicks. Celebrities have famously battled the disease. We even have our own month. Breast cancer awareness is hip! I love it. I hate it.
I love it because I own stock in it, now. I’m invested. If they find a cure, I won’t have to worry about my daughters (I have 3) or my sisters (I have 4) or my other much-loved women (I have hundreds!) having to go through what I did. I wouldn’t have to worry about it coming back. That would be nice.
I hate it because I know SO many people who have struggled with cancer…skin cancer, lung cancer, bone cancer, brain cancer, lymphoma, leukemia, testicular cancer, oh, and a handful with breast cancer. I hate that breast cancer seems to be THE cancer, the popular cancer that gets all the attention. Cancer is Cancer. All cancer is scary. One in three people will get it in their lifetime. I wish we could take the enthusiasm surrounding breast cancer awareness and support and apply it universally to ALL cancer. I’m so grateful for events like the ACS Relay for Life. It’s an event where no particular cancer is in the lime light. We unite and battle ALL cancer, and celebrate ALL survivors.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
An Update, an illegal video, and a flavor seizure.
1. Update
I can now run 2 miles. Apparently I couldn't before now. I want to kill myself. Literally. In a non-literal kind of way. Go donate -- don't make me suffer for no reason!!!
2. I made this illegal video.
3. A flavor Seizure.
Can you say labor day tradition? 3X fast?
Monday, September 5, 2011
Will work for donations.
The Fine Print: Raffle is open from 9/5/2011 until 9/28/2011 at 11:59 CST. To enter click the link below (PayPal account not required) or send payment via PayPal to kriskrisphotography@gmail.com. Minimum number of entrants required (okay it's a tiny minimum but still!), so pass the word! There are no limits to the number of times you enter. Winner will be notified before midnight on 9/29/2011 via email. Included photography services are 1 hour of photography coverage by Kristina, disc or emailed files of ten (10) digital negatives with personal printing license agreement, and travel within Salt Lake and Utah Counties (UT), Lubbock County (TX), Sacramento County (CA), Boise and Ada Counties (ID) on any non-holiday date Kristina has available between 9/30/2011 and 12/31/2012
If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to email me at kriskrisphotography@gmail.com or leave a comment below.
For a sample of my work please visit my facebook page.
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