Georgia Fun

To see more fun pictures from our day at the lake, check out my in-law's blog! (link under family blogs)

The First Ever Blog Awards!

That's right ladies and gentlemen. The blog awards are here. These are the rules: 1. once you're tagged you have to do it and you have one week to post. No silly cop out excuses (this will ensure that at least someone will have an update frequently). 2. you have to use pictures found on blogs. No digging into old photo albums or pulling something off your memory card from eight years ago. 3. you can't use an 'award' somebody's already used. So that's it. Scan through blogs and let's see what kind of quirky awards we Cunninghams can come up with.

BEST AND WORST HAIR
Best hair: Jenny
Out of all of my sisters' friends that came over, Jenny was my favorite. When Cali posted this picture in June it reminded me of how much I wanted to grow up and have Jenny's big beautiful hair.
The real reason I never got those lucious locks is evident below. For the Hall of Shame for worst hair I give you....wait for it...Mom on the Island of Kauai.

I'm not quite sure what mom is saying in this picture (if you enlarge it you can see she's talking), but if it's something along the lines of "Holy moly, I just saw my reflection in the camera lense and the atomic mushroom look isn't working today" she wouldn't be too far off. Good thing she wasn't hitchhiking or people would slow down looking for a traffic accident and wonder why dad was walking with a road flare. I didn't think a picture like this would survive, let alone be posted by mom herself in the fall of '07.

Well that was fun, but now whom to tag. Hmmm..........I think I'll tag Cami. Take it away Cami Re! You have one week to post your Blog Awards.

I feel the weight bearing down upon me

Okay, now I don't want to make it sound like concrete work is the hardest job out there, but let's be honest - it can be pretty tough work. And you don't have to just ask my dad and brother, you can ask any one of my sisters. You read that right ladies and gentlemen, my sisters, and our mom, have all poured, mixed, sprayed, dyed, shot, tested, and stamped concrete. Not to mention the setting up and wrecking of forms. Those hands that may sport manicures have had their fair share of concrete burns, and those bodies that look great in high heels, and better in bikinis ;-), have sweated and ached from the blistering heat of Puerto Rico and Mexico to the bitter cold of Colorado and Wyoming. And when you're a Cunningham (or married to one) you're expeted to to work faster, stronger, and harder than any man out there. There are no excuses, you are a Cunningham.
This brings me to my funny story. I'm working down here in Georgia where it's no stranger to sweltering summers, however these last few days have been overcast and rainy. The concrete company contracted to do work on the outer perimeter of the site showed up Monday. And boy were they tough looking dudes! Not many skinny laborers can get away with a skin tight button-up shirt with the sleeves torn off and unbottoned down to the navel. Rrrrrrrr. Or the shorts and naked lady t-shirt look. And the whole James Dean cigarette hanging out of your mouth look was a killer too for most of them. I informed dad that they were here. As is the case with all visitors, he charged me with keeping an eye on them. Such a task is as appealing as keeping an eye on a herd of swine. But I did as I was told.
Later one of the workers was spotted holding his hard hat under his arm. Our OSHA representative approached him and reminded him that hard hats had to be worn on our job site. The man's response was priceless. Why hadn't he been wearing a hard hat and why was he so reluctant to do so? In his own words "It's too heavy."
What? Had we not been so flabbergasted I might have brought up my sister wearing a hard hat all day as she manned a concrete pump while pregnant and with morning sickness, and the supervisor could have pointed out that if the laborer coudn't bear the weight of his hard hat
how was he supposed to pour concrete. Wow.
All I can say is "Buddy, maybe you should be looking for a new job. One that requires zero hard work (and hard hats)."

Life is too short!

People just don't understand me. In middle school that bothered me a lot, now it's more of a complement.

I'd heard people say "Life's too short" when they refused to let inconsequential things darken their day, but now it seems to be my sole explanation for the way I live my crazy life.

Do you realize that at 22 years old, I'm almost a third of the way through my life? It's a life that's already had more diversity and adventure than your average 50 year old, but there's so much more I want to pack in it! At the age of 13 normality was my goal, by 17 it was my enemy. Nothing seems so awful as living a normal life. Going to school, getting a job, trying to work your may up to the top of that job, making big plans so that one day you can take that dream cruise or vacation. Living the same mundane routine every day looking somewhere in the distant future for that hazy goal. Not me.

I've been taking a lot of criticism for our decision to move to Hawaii in December. I'm "weird" and "overly optimistic". I've been told things like "my friend hated that school", "you can't adjust to island life, it's not what you think", "the cost of living there is so expensive", "you'll never see your family" (they obviously don't know my family), "if some disaster comes you can't leave, you're trapped", "there's too much water", and I could go on and on and on. I've heard it all. The best so far is the accusation that I don't want my kids to grow up righteous (you can't make this stuff up). I was seriously told that leaving "Zion", aka Southeast Idaho, was just begging for rebellious children, because every kid that grows up there is righteous apparently.

Now I've added more gasoline to the flame because I haven't officially been accepted to BYU-H yet....but I bought two non-refundable one-way tickets to Honolulu. I'm now "hasty", "impulsive", "crazy", and a "fool". As if people didn't understand me before, now they really don't. So here it is: life isn't stopping. Since the first tears I shed on the airplane September 19, 2007 I've been dreaming of getting back. But dreaming only gets me so far and here's my shot and I'm taking it. So what if I don't get accepted? So what? On December 30th seat 17D on Horizon Air will be occupied I promise you. I've been asked a lot "So what are you going to do in Hawaii if you're not in school?" Does a question like that even merit a response?

Look around, Life's Happening! I learned a long time ago that "someday" never comes to you, you have to chase it down. I've spent too many days thinking and pondering over things I could've done, things I probably should have done. I don't want to do that anymore. From now on if I want something and I know in my heart it's the right thing for me, I'm taking it. Heaven help anyone or anything that stands in my way. If it's money, I'll find a way to earn it; if it's fear, I'll conquer it; if it takes work, I'll roll up my sleeves and get it done; and if it's critics, I'll drown them out.

I guess I can't be normal and wait around for someday, I have to be crazy and foolish because life is just way too short.