Carpe Diem.

This is one of those coming to age posts. I know that most of you will leave at this point because you were hoping for more naked men - I understand and respect that.

Lives are like novels. As cliché as it may sound, we spend each day writing a chapter. In each chapter we introduce new characters, dive deeper into others, take adventures, or just keep traveling on the same path. In Mrs. Funston’s freshman English class, I learned that the climax of a story is when something happens in the plot that changes it so dramatically that you know nothing will be the same after. In other words, everything will be different.

 In life stories, I don’t think the climax is one certain event. It may be in yours, but not in mine. In my life, my climax is a series of events. I think the climax of my life, so far, was this last year. I learned so much about myself, I grew up, I took chances, I felt risks, and I accepted consequences – good and bad.

Before I moved to Italy I had never been on my own. I had not been to camp and I rarely had sleep overs, always making up excuses on why I could only have a late over or calling my mom in the middle of the night to pick me up. I had gone on the skateboarding tour for months away from home, but I always had (at least) my Father present. I graduated from high school and leaped into a surreal experience. I went from always holding my family’s hands, to flying my way to a foreign country where I did not know anyone, the language, where to go, or what to expect. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. I was scarred, but never did I ever regret doing it. Italy changed my life. Of course the culture and aspects of a foreign country were striking and eye opening, but suddenly I was forced to make decisions between good or bad, motivate myself to succeed at school, fix my own meals, and wash my own clothes. It sounds silly, but I was forced to grow up. Forced to experience. Forced to find out who I really was. In Italy I realized what mattered, what made me who I was, what I wanted to be, and how lucky I am.

 

This summer I discovered a lot about myself. I took my mindset from Italy and become conscious of where I stood. I had my first real job - and Market Street will never be the same. I made new friends and created stronger friendships with the old. I also lost a few. I gained confidence as I stood up for myself. In my favorite book The Perks for Being a Wallflower, Charlie says, “We accept the love we think we deserve.” I finally learned what that meant, that I deserve the world and not to let people pull me down or make me think otherwise. I realized who made me feel good about myself, who I could be myself around, who I could trust - and who didn’t/couldn’t.

In Love is a Mixtape, Rob Sheffield wrote “She worried way too much what people thought of her, wore her heart on her sleeve, expected too much from people, and got hurt too easily. She kept other people's secrets like a champ, but told her own too fast. She expected the world not to cheat her and was always surprised when it did.” It was on page thirty-one that it dawned on me that this is exactly who I was.

Now look at me.

(please note that the stress from packing did not result in alcoholism.) 

 Ha. But really. Tomorrow I leave to San Francisco to study at the Academy of Art University.

When you are little you talk about what you want to do when you grow up. You draw pictures of your dream room in notebooks, you plan your prom dress, go from wanting to be a princess, to Hannah Montana, to a teacher. Then one day, you realize that you REALLY can become anything you want. I cannot tell you the exact day I figured out that I could be a photographer as a career, but I can tell you that once the seed was planted in my head I could not stop feeding it nourishment. I kept telling myself the negatives: the lack of pay, the uncertainty, what will people think of you choosing art as a job? Will they think you took the easy way out? All of those are still in the soil of my ambition, but they are pushing me harder. Prove them wrong. Be happy every time you go to work. Put your best out there. Make someone notice. That small seed that once sat in the back of my mind is now a tangled vine, large and ever growing. Consuming.

Some gardens grow forever without being taken care of. I sit here saying that I am so fortunate to have the full support of my family to chase this crazy dream of mine. I hear the stories from people who graduated from high school with me about how they went to college because that is just what is expected of them, status quo, what else would they do? My parents sat me down when I graduated and told me to enjoy it. They believe that education is important, but take my time. If I don’t go to school right away, that is fine, but make sure that whatever I am doing, I am doing with my whole heart and taking advantage of every day. How many people can say that their parents want them to be nothing but happy? My Mother comes from a family where the in state University was the only choice and if she wanted to go, she was going to pay for it. My Father moved across the country because he wanted to ski and Utah had better slopes then Michigan. Two completely different outlooks, backgrounds, and stories – but they both agree on doing whatever they can to make sure my life is perfect. I could not be anymore grateful for what they have done. My parents have (and constantly continue) to support me finically, emotionally, and confidently. Here is a shout out, because I could never thank them enough for everything they do for me. I want to be them when I grow up. 

Thank you for the constant support, love, friendship, and help from my family and friends. You are the true reason that I have the opportunities I do in life.

San Francisco: I hope you are ready.

Here is to this crazy thing called life and how addictive it is to live it with arms wide open, Carpe Diem. 

it's gone by so fast

Where has the time gone? It seems like just yesterday I was drooling over the first hottie of the 2012 London Olympics. I still have cute guys to share, but since the game is closed, in celebration of such a wonderful display of sex appeal and abs, i am going to post the rest of the athletic gods i have stored in my secret files.

First off, here is the "German Kiss." In celebration, these two were so excited that they kissed each other. Seriously the cutest thing you have ever seen two guys do in matching suits in a canoe? : ) 

Aldo Montano - Italy - Fencing

Alexandre Despatie - Canadian - Diving

Azizul Hasniawang - Malasia - Cycling

Camille Lacourt - France - Swimming

Giuseppe Lanzone - U.S.A. - Rowing

Horia Tecau - Romania - Tennis

Hugo Parisi - Brazil - Diving 

(Cannot wait to see you in your home country next Olympics, Hugo!) 

Philipp Boy - Germany - Gymnastics

Richard Petherick - New Zealand - Field Hockey 

Well, I do not know about you, but I am practically in tears I am so sad that it is over. It has been fun. I will probably be looking back at these last few weeks over and over again. Let's get a round of applause for our beautiful athletes! And of course, you dedicated fans! : ) 

Cheers to another sexy Olympic Games! 

Ladies, meet the Australian water polo goalkeeper.

I am in a food coma. After a delicious dinner with chocolate dessert, it took all I could to do more tonight than lie in bed and sleep off the pounds I just tasted. I was about to say, “Hey, one night without wont be to bad” until I cam across James Clark’s photo. 

Ladies, meet the Australian water polo goalkeeper!

I have searched for information, but it turns out that James is a bit mysterious. (Could we ask for a hotter characteristic?)

I did find out three things: he was born March 22, 1991, he is six foot five, and most importantly – this Aussi babe is single! 

Another thing I found while researching the heart throbbing beautiful sport of water polo was a picture of the entire Australian men’s team:

Just think, if you date one - you have to go to ALL of those games and look at ALL of them. Maybe you can even host EVERY team dinner at your house. Your treat. ;) 

I have kind of neglected my male readers, so respectfully I pulled up these two cute, nude, photographs of the U.S. women’s water polo team just for you guys! (I know, I am so thoughtful.)

Aren't they cute!?

Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy and sweet dreams! 

just going to the cinema

I am so dedicated. Look at me, posting from Denver, Colorado, after a long day running a skateboard event and driving a few miles. I sit here, sweaty, smelly, hungry, and tired, writing just for you.

All for you, because I know that there are a few of you out there (Cheryl) who will die of heart ache if you do not have a piece of Olympic eye candy to drool over each day.

This is for you.

Gustavo Lima sails to us from Portugal.

Isn’t he lovely? Look at the way he dangles from the side of the dock, lightly sprayed in the face with ocean and grace. You can practically hear the seagulls and sirens cooing on the bays. (A little too dramatic? Get over it.)

He is a bit older than a few of the ones before, thirty-five, but we can all handle that. He was born in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil so his thick Spanish accent and thick Spanish hair will look great on your arm. (Do note: he only speaks English.. not Spanish. But I am sure he has an accent.)

He is six foot one of handsome.

Gustavo’s hobbies include surfing, karting, (?) cycling, travel and “going to the cinema.” How cute is that, he likes “going to the cinema.” Simple as that. That practically means that he likes dark rooms where he can put his arm around you and kiss your forehead, holding your hand. When is the next showing!? 

brief in words, but definitely not lacking in sex appeal

Good morning Verbaledudette. It is merely 11:03 a.m. and I am already doused in sweat. 100 degrees weather in Utah is like sticking your head in the oven. You can just forget about make up, because by the time you put it on it will already be dripping down your chin and onto your shirt making a nasty stain.

Today’s hottie is going to be brief in words, but definitely not lacking in sex appeal. Coming all the way from Kristiansand, Norway I introduce you to Andreas Thorkildsen. 

This blonde babe was born April 1, 1982 and is a profession javelin thrower. He is the first make javelin thrower in history to be the European, World, and Olympic champion. His personal best is 91.59 meters.

He practices kissing his gold medals so he is pro when he puckers up to you. 

Andreas was bred from winners. His father, Tomm, was a former javelin thrower and his personal coach. Mom, on the other hand, was the nation champion in 100-meter hurdlers in 1972.

"Hey baby, check out my arms! I am too cold to not wear a hat, but I can help it not to wear a shirt for your enjoyment"

While doing some research I thought that Mr. Andreas had a girlfriend. All of these pictures had a blonde girl clinging to his arm. But after praying it wasn’t true, I discovered multiple sites claiming that this golden coup had broken up. “Thorkildsen's relationship with the Norwegian hurdler Christina Vukicevic generated some unwanted publicity on his part… In March 2011 Christina Vukicevic and Thorkildsen announced in Norwegian media that they no longer were a couple.” And there you have it ladies, he is single and ready to mingle.

The smolder

"Good morning honey, I just took a shower and I made you breakfast while I was naked"

I am just about to leave on the Concrete Rodeo Tour (that skateboard thing I am apart of) in Colorado until Sunday. With that said, posts may be sporadic or maybe not existent for a few days. Do not fret though, I will make sure we catch up and not miss a hottie. Every day will be made up for in good time.

**Also, I have had some comments about where the women are. I will throw one in soon. I am sorry for the over dose of men. I just cannot help myself. ;)

(did you notice how I said this was going to be brief and then the post turned out to be longer than most? Haha.. awkward) 

young, exotic, and a professional

When you here “Egypt” the first things that comes to mind are pyramids, dead rich guys in beautiful tombs, and current political uproar. I am about to change that. From now on when you hear the word Egypt you will think of the ever so sexy Saleh Gomaa.

First lets talk about his name. I do not know how you correctly say it, but the way my mind is pronouncing it, it flows like silk off my tongue and I cannot help but smile. Try it. We need to bring in his beautiful skin tone. I sweet mix of olive and tans make him look mysterious and rugged. His features outlined in dark shadows. His hair is thick, wild, and perfect for running your hands through it.

Now that we acknowledged his beauty, let’s talk facts. He is just barely twenty (his birthday is August first) and plays midfielder for the Egypt soccer team.

Young, exotic, and a professional “football” player – marry me now Saleh? 

Nole doesn't need a pole

Do not ask me how to say his name, but we don’t need correct enunciation to be able to understand how cute Novak Djokovic from Belgrade, Serbia is.

Born May 22, 1987, Novak stands a tall six foot two and is a right-handed tennis player. He started his tennis career at the age of thirteen and made his debut as professional only three years later.  

Ladies, he also has a sweet nick name: Nole. How cute!? 

You know how I like those man butts. Tennis just got so much hotter. 

Do all tennis players ALWAYS have their shirts on? I better start watching closer.

favorite postion is:

After a deep, almost comatose, power nap, my Mother surprised me with a beautiful meal of pasties (like gourmet hot pockets) and rocket salad. The meal was inspired by the U.K. See, in my family, we have been having a meal from a different country participating in the Olympics every night for dinner. Last night I made Middle Eastern food, Gabrielle made French previous, and so on. Aren’t we cute? But really, it has been a lot of fun to learn about the different cultures through food. But it also has been really fun to learn about the different countries through men.

With that said, let me introduce you to Jack Green.

This twenty one year old was born October sixth in Maidstone, Great Britain. He is a tall cutie, standing at six feet four inches.

Jack is apart of the Great Britain track team. When looking up his biography on Google, one of the stats about him was titled “Favorite Position” and instantly my mind went to the gutter. After I read below this forward sub heading I soon realized that the British author who wrote the bio was not giving me Mr. Green’s favorite positions... in bed... but rather his position on the team. His favorite position is hurdles. (“Oh, I have never heard of that one before!” – said me secretly.)

In the semi finals of his event this year, he fell. Rather, he tripped hard core over the hurdle. This was disappointing that I chose a loser for this post, but upon Googling (is it grammatically correct to remove the “e” with adding “ing” when referring to Google) images of him I realized that although he did not succeed in his Olympic sport, he is a BIG WINNER in hotness. 

This is a photo of Jack picking up his stumbled over hurdle. Look at that man butt. Mmhmm. If we got to look at this shot every time he fell, I would never want him to do well. 

Now Verbaledudette tries to stay at a PG-13 appropriate level when dealing with language, subject matter, and of course photographs. 

BUT i found something I just had to share.

 A photographer for GQ Magazine photographed five British Olympic Athletes naked. Lucky for us, Jack Green was one of them. 

You are so more than welcome. 

 Cheers! 

there is no disability visible in his sexiness

Oscar Pistorius was born in Johannesburg, South Africa, on November 22, 1986 without the fibula (that is the long, slender bone running along the outside of the leg from below the knee joint and down to the ankle) in each of his legs.

His parents made the heart wrenching decision to have his legs amputated below the knee. Doctors said that having the amputation done before Oscar learns to walk would be less traumatic for him and would greatly improve his chances of mobility in later life. Six months later he received his first pair of prosthetic legs and within days he had mastered them.

Oscar may be missing his legs, but that does not hold him back from being not only an Olympic champion, but also – pretty damn cute.

This man, who constantly is smiling, is sponsored by Nike and Oakley. You know what this means for you ladies? You marry him – free sports bras, shoes, and sunglasses for life! What more could you want?

Cheer him on through the games and would you quit drooling already? 

why did i leave italy?

So I know that I missed a day. It is passed midnight and is technically Sunday already – but this post is going to count for Saturday’s. Everyone just turn a blind eye, but only for a second, because WO BABY look who I found for you:

Clemente Russo is an Italian boxer. Now I could only find out a little bit of information about him: He is thirty years of age, from Marcaianise, Italia, and was a silver medalist at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. But what I lack in information, I found in photographs. Enjoy. : )

Ciao Ciao. 

the qualifications of a triathlon have been changed

I am sitting on my couch in a multi colored flower apron (that is two small for me) surrounded by four empty cartons of Italian gelato, watching some fit girls run track on the television, and pursuing the internet for hotties with bodies. That is how I found Francisco Javier Gómez Noya (the name itself is a sex symbol.)

He was born March 25, 1983 in Basel, Switzerland, but he is Spanish at heart (and blood – his parents were both immigrants from Spain.) Now living in Ferrol, Galicia, Spain, he is a triathlon world champion. That means that he can run to you, swim to you, and bike to you.

 And can you just look at his soft eyes, hot body, and that Spanish accent that you can practically hear through the pixels of his Latin lips?

 That is what I call a true triathlon. 

bollywood bad boy

Now do not get me wrong, I love my job, but the feeling I get when I come home from a great concert (My Morning Jacket) and your work texts you (even though it is 11:00 p.m.) and tells you that you do not need to come into waitress tomorrow (Friday) is wonderful. I love my job as much as the next guy, but I still love the idea of not going to work as much as everyone else.

Moral of the introduction is that I did not think I was going to post a hottie today. I did not think I was going to make the deadline (midnight.) But thanks to unemployment tomorrow, I do not feel guilty staying up and researching cute boys – for your sake of course.

Tonight’s hottie comes to us from the colorful Bhuwani district in Haryana, India: Vijender Singh Beniwal. 

This bollywood bad boy was born October 29, 1985 (age twenty six) and is a top ranked boxer.

Now Vijender is a past Olympic champion, but most importantly after his Olympic win, Vijender soaked up stardom as India’s newest “pin-up boy” – meaning ^apart from boxing, Vijender took part in modeling. Ladies, this boy looks good with his boxing gloves on, with them off, and posing in sexy poses just for your enjoyment. He is also shy, Vijender tried to cover up his love for modeling and being sexy by saying his emerging into magazine covers was all just to "bring the game [boxing] in the limelight, make it as popular as possible and catapult it to its deserving place at the top.” Uh huh? We see right through you: you’re cute and you know it. 

Goodnight! And happy sleeping in (for me!)