You might not know it by looking at me, but this little white girl loves her some dirrrty R&B. Well, I don’t know if you would classify it as dirty rap or dirty R&B, I love both, maybe it’s more like poppy rap/ R&B with slightly questionable lyrics about big butts and riding the pony. BUT I LOVE IT. Can’t get enough. R. Kelly, Usher, LL Cool J, Paperboy, Ginuwine…Oh I’m getting giddy.

I think it might be cause I like freak dancing so much. SO MUCH. I’ve stopped fighting it. I’m not ashamed.

At all the church dances growing up (yes I LOVED CHURCH DANCES) Andrea was constantly halting her groove mid-song to give me a disappointed look and say, “Alison, come on, really?”

YES LITTLE SISTER, REALLY.

I didn’t like freak dancing with boys, ew no. (Though I do like freak dancing with Eric, muhaha). I was afraid of boys until I was 17 (that’s a total lie). I just really felt like I had a God-given talent for moving my hips. And who was I to waste such a gift? Not many people can perfectly mimic the hip thrusts from Garth’s performance of “Foxy Lady.”

Actually, it was probably my only form of rebellion growing up and that’s why I loved it. I didn’t drink, I didn’t smoke, and gosh darn it, I only kissed, but I KNEW HOW TO PUT MY THING DOWN FLIP IT AND REVERSE IT.

A week after Eric and I were engaged we were at a dance party, I believe it was one of the world famous Slow Dance Parties that we used to throw in Provo (and another one will be thrown Aug. 9). We started playing some sexy slow jams, and I couldn’t help it, I started getting down with my bad self. I got my freak on ya’ll. And in between my heartfelt commands to, “get’cha, get’cha, get’cha, get’cha, get’cha freak on!” Eric’s jaw dropped in what was probably horror but what I like to think was amazement. After a while he said, “I wasn’t aware you knew how to dance like that.” Very matter-of-factly. So I hip thrusted his behind outta my way and continued on without him.

Anyway, this morning on my run some especially great songs came on, and I was reminded of how much I love to shake what my mama gave me. Sometimes if I’m feeling particularly frisky and fresh on my run, I do a few moves for the cars around me while I wait at the crosswalk. Just one way I like to give back.

I have no real point to this post, other than, I hope you have freak nasty weekend, and that when your mind is telling you no, but your body is telling you yes…you know there’s nothin’ wrong with a little bump n grind.

I know, I know, first I box, and now I Square. Consider my creative well dry.

Anyway, I just got off a totally loud and possibly inappropriate personal (personal as in not work related…geesh) phone call with Matt Clayton, and my and possibly your, wildest dreams have come true. Alison Faulkner gets her own column in Square Magazine.

Square Magazine, if you aren’t in the know or in the Valley, is a free bimonthly magazine that is distributed in Provo. Matt Clayton is the editor-in-chief, and he is a little doll. A 6’2 bundle of joy.

This is a treat because OBVIOUSLY I LOVE HAVING COLUMNS. The last column I had was in my high school newspaper, The Iliad. I wrote an article about why students shouldn’t have to wait to use the bathroom because it could lead to possible Urinary Tract Infections. I heard from a friend that their teacher publicly ridiculed my article. I provoked a teacher to delay their lesson plan to argue with my feeble words. THAT IS POWER.

So, I get to name the column and pick the topics and whatnot, so if you have any ideas I would love to hear them. I consider this just one of many necessary steps to world domination. World domination with love and kisses of course.

Some girl’s husbands are addicted to video games, some girl’s husbands are, sadly, addicted to porn, some girl’s husbands are addicted to big hits from a bong followed by episodes of The Family Guy…

My husband, however, is only addicted to a large Red Box.

HE LOVES TO BOX IT.

Granted, the first time I saw a Red Box…which if you aren’t familiar with, are these big red candy machines that dispense a huge selection of DVD’s for rent for a dollar a day…I thought to myself, this is an ingenious idea. The people of Utah are going to LOVE THIS. And they do. On any given Friday night throngs of underpaid, entertainment thirsty Utahns crowd the boxes and will stoop to renting a Duff sister movie if it’s all the box has left to offer.

You can now find Red Boxes in front of many quality locations: McDonalds, Smiths, Maverick…but I’ve been holding off from the Box. Mainly because I cannot be trusted to return a movie in a day. Really, I had Lars and the Real Girl so long Hollywood Video asked if wanted to buy it. The idea of paying a dollar a day for a movie I will probably have for two weeks plus, is too much to bear.

But the other day, my sweet husband was tempted by the red siren, and now he has fully surrendered to her. In two days we have watched (all his choice) Drillbit Taylor, Beowulf, and Hot Rod. I know he’ll return Hot Rod today (which actually has a HYSTERICAL Footloose parody scene) and again I fear the box will prove just too tempting for him to resist.

I warn you now against this machine dressed in the color of Satan. It will steal hours of your life, encouraging you to watch movies that under normal circumstances you would have avoided with all your might.

And so, I leave you with this question, if the big Red Box got in a fight with Clifford, the big red dog, who my friends? Who? Would win?

I love you all

xoxo

Alison Faulkner not yet legally Robertson
(I do this so when you google me my blog pulls up! I’m a slave to SEO)

Sometimes when you get married people forget that you are still, in fact, a normal human being who needs…what normal human beings need.

LOVE!

Just because you get married and have a sexy little husband who dotes on you and tells you that you’re pretty everyday, it doesn’t mean you don’t need friends to call you and tell you that you are pretty everyday too! And they don’t even have to tell me I’m pretty, they could just call and say, “Hi, I care that you exist…and I bet you look great in your jeans even if your butt is a tinch (read: A WHOLE LOT) bigger.” That would work too.

I know I’m needy, I need. I need. Give give! Love love!

However, no one likes a whiner. No one likes the friend that stomps around saying, “Why don’t you like me! Why don’t you call me!????” Who wants to be friends with a guilt trip? NO ONE. (Yes. I realize this post itself is a guilt trip. I’m a paradox, watch me blow your mind!) I learned this lesson in fifth grade when Shannon Collins, bless her heart, sat next to me on the bus and for the duration of the ride to school said, “WHY DON’T YOU CALL ME, DO YOU LIKE ME? DO YOU LIKE ME?” And I wanted to say, “NOT ANYMORE!”

So, sometimes in life you have to take matters into your own hands. And last Thursday, when Eric was gone yet again, I did.

And so, without further ado, and sans further guilt tripping, I’d like to present you with my NEW BEST FRIEND (other than my beautiful husband Eric)…

SPRINKLES THE PONY.

First I cut him out of felt.

Then, like any good friend would, I nailed him to the wall. So I’ll always know right where to find him. I like his hair.

I pet Sprinkles and talk to him when I walk past. He is very understanding and a really good listener. And if I keep the bathroom door open, I can talk to him while I’m in the shower. It’s really nice to have another man in the house when Eric is out of town.

If you want, you can make the REALLY REALLY long trip to SLC and say hi to Sprinkles and sometime. I mean, only if you want to. We might be busy, but I’ll see if we can fit you in.

If you’re not in Utah, then you don’t know TODAY IS PIONEER DAY! And by the time you probably read this YESTERDAY WAS PIONEER DAY!

Pioneer Day celebrates the struggle of my ancestors and their deliverance into this mighty Salt Lake Valley over 150 years ago. In Utah, if you are a working drone like me, you get July 24th off as a State Holiday. WHICH IS AWESOME. In fact it’s so awesome, I’d like to take this opportunity to say a word to all the SLCers who seem to have that huge “Oh I’m so annoyed with all the Mormons” chip on their shoulder…GET OVER IT. I’m sorry about the liquor laws and I’m sorry your parents are mad at you for not going to church but, can’t we all just learn to get along? Love and kisses.

I chose to celebrate Pioneer Day with a sunny Pioneer Day morning run. Truth be told, I haven’t been much of a runner these days, in fact I’m supposed to run a marathon next month and I’m punking out and running the half…if I even run it. I’ve been feeling kinda down on myself for being such a slacker. “Remember when you used to run marathons and kick pain in the face and look like this!!!???”

I scream in my head as I turn over to hit the snooze button, again. “You’re weak Alison! Weak!”

I was in MAJOR need of a running confidence boost. A taste of why I’ve trained so many miles, and why I should continue to push myself. And this morning on my run, I got that boost.

Somewhere at about mile 1.5 of my 4-mile run I noticed that there were a lot of runners crossing the street up on 13th east. “Waz up?” I wondered. So I trudged up the hill and figured out that there was some sort of race going on. “Oh how fun! A Pioneer Day 5k!” I thought.

I have A LOT of respect for race coordinators and registration fees, even if I’m a has-been I still have a soul, and so I didn’t want to run rogue, but it looked like a small race, and it was on my way home, so I crossed the street and joined in on the fun!

I was running with some men, probably in their 30′s and they were HAULING. But, I was still fresh, and full of excitement so I managed to pick up my pace and keep up. I didn’t see any mile markers so I still didn’t know what type of race it was. But the police officers marking the course seemed pretty impressed/shocked, that this little girl was keeping up with these speedy men. The crowd was small, and people were staggered, but they were cheering for me and shouting for me! IT FELT SO GOOD! I got the rush you get when you’re on mile 23 of a marathon, and you want to die, and you feel like you might, but you also feel like a bad-ass because you’ve just run 23 miles before most people have even rolled out of bed and you only have 3.2 more miles to go. I WAS ON TOP OF THE WORLD. And then I finally saw a mile marker, and coincidentally enough, I was on mile 23, of the Desert News Marathon.

NO WONDER these people were so excited for me, I was on pace with the negative 3 hour marathon finishers, I could have possibly been in “first place” for the women. I picked up my pace a little more and saw a water station up ahead.

And what do you think I did?

Hell no I didn’t take those runner’s water! THEY EARNED THAT WATER. I didn’t have 23 miles under my belt. I barely had three. So I ducked out of the race and ran on the sidewalk next to the runners until I got home. But I cheered for them when they passed me.

And even though I didn’t run a marathon this morning, or anything near to one, I remembered why I have run them, and why I want to continue to run them. I know some people will never understand it, but you can’t beat that high you feel when you run across the finish line and realize what you’ve just accomplished. You feel powerful, you feel inspired, you are so happy about what you’ve just done, you are filled with love. In fact, I dare say, if more people ran marathons, there could be peace on earth. Or at least a lot more hot bods.

Anyway, I’m gonna stop being such a slacker and run more. And if you want to run more, or start running I have a few websites that can help…because I love to help!

halhigdon.com provides some really good FREE training programs for any race length you like. Hal Higdon won the Chicago marathon a bunch of times. He’s a gnarly old man with old school training methods, but I think his training schedules are a great way to start, especially for beginners.

marathonguide.com has a comprehensive guide of all the marathons that are going on in the world. Yes, world!

So happy running. Or happy whatever makes you happy. God bless the Pioneers and God bless you.

xoxo

Your Friendly Running Buddy
Alison Faulkner Robertson