On Holiday.

Dear Reader,

I realize I have been gone for quite sometime, now. Mostly because I have been working over 50 hours each week and in doing so have come to the conclusion that I could never be a workaholic. I just had to do it for a little while to get data for this continuing review with the Department of Defense. No big.

But I know what you're thinking: "What is Miss Katseanes doing now?" Well I will tell you.

I recently went on holiday to Boise, Idaho (the land I love). Going home is especially fun because we try to fit everything we love to do in the short time I am there. My vacation was a total of two weeks, but for one week in the middle, I went to St. Louis, MO to visit my brother and his family.

Here is a small collage of various media eluding to the many things we did:

Holding baby Amarra, my new niece.

You may be thinking karaoke, but no. This is definitely a guy playing live music and my dad just asked if he could sing a song. And then he sang two.

Trying to get a good picture with Marshall. It should be an Olympic sport. Sorry about the flash.

We went to a Cardinals game. Super fun.

Nathan and Me playing tennis.

We did many more things, I just haven't gotten the pictures from my family yet. Overall, it was the most amazing vacation, and now I am rested and ready to go back to work.

Sort of.

Not really.

Work

Sometimes when I'm at work I find myself wondering why I like this.

Sometimes I do things...

... that are crazy.

The most recent, or rather the most apparent (to myself, anyways), is my habit of waking up at 6:00am and exercising every morning. Perhaps "habit" is too strong. The moderately often occurrence..? That's better.

It all started when my good friend Henry Taylor made a New Year's Resolution to go running every morning. I asked if I could tag along and he kindly allowed it. Then he got a job for which he had to commute every morning and he stopped running with me, but I kept going by myself and have continued to this very day. But here's the deal: sometimes running is borring. It's true. I said it, ok?

So on Monday, when my co-worker and friend, Tabitha, invited me to play basketball with her the following morning (today), I jumped at the chance. Upon walking into the gym at the Richard's building, we found 5 or 6 guys shooting some hoops at one of the baskets so we went to the far hoop and started playing around. Eventually they came over and asked if we wanted to play a game with them and we said that we would love to so we divided into groups and started the game. I was a little nervous because I haven't played basketball since I was a freshman in high school. These feelings quickly left as I made the first basket, and then the next, and the next. In fact, I was the only person on my team to score any points. It was AWESOME! This could be on account of the fact that Tabitha is significantly shorter than myself or that the guys we were playing with are not very good. Attribute it to what you will, but I'm going to go with skill. Pure skill.

Death.

It's finals week.

In case you didn't know.

Surprise, surprise...

People, let's be honest - it's no secret that I hardly ever write on my blog. And let's face it: the majority of what I write is of little importance. So it came as quite a surprise to find that 30 people have read my blog this month.

30.

I am impressed. Truly. That's like 2 people per day reading my blog. I thought my audience had dwindled to include only Christopher, Matisse, and occasionally Lexi. But you have proven me wrong.

I would end this post with hallow promisses to write more and think of whittier and more interesting things to write about, but we're being honest here. I don't want to ruin the moment.

Hello Moto

In our lab at work we have a white board that we use to display important things such as:

• Biomass results
• Mathematical equations
• Items people have borrowed from our lab
• Plot maps
• Notification of lab activities
• Pizza requests for Pizza Pfriday

There is a recent addition to the board that brings joy to me every day. Although I have not spoken of this before on my blog, it's no secret that I want a motorcycle. I want one SO bad. I've had a couple discussions with my parents about getting one, and their reaction is the phone-equivalent of a pat on the head and a "no" with a smile.

I hate that.

My co-workers are also aware of my desire to be an awesome moto-owner and last week this picture showed up on the board:

I've been wondering lately...

Why is it that everyone I have previously admired (crushed on) or have dated seems entirely repulsive now..?

It must be some sort of defense mechanism.

...Hmmm. Interesting.