A Video That You Won't Care About

Anyone else notice that I have been posting like mad lately? You're like, "Ummm yeah. You be clogging up my newsfeed furr dayzz with your nonsense blogging." So sorry. Just indulge me because I leave in one week and it's raining and I just got my first speeding ticket yesterday.

BUT. My Emma-Friend made this awesome video of nothing important. It's basically a manifestation of how loserish our friend group is. I love it more than Pop Rocks.

Other things I be lovin' recently.



Rip snorting (this is a Shane verb) around on the moto's with my papa. Good time had by all.



My last request before my mission? Cinnamon roll at Bette's. It was oh so necessary

Harvesting white strawberries. It's either that or the slugs get em so don't judge.



The crazed look in my eyes (if you can see it behind the glare of my glasses) is a result of going out for ice cream, It's a big deal people.

Memorial Day, America, And Iron Man 3

It rained and rained and rained today. It was the type of day where you just wanted to snuggle up in your bed and cry a little. Which I did! Happy Memorial Day to you too.

But all craziness aside, I am so thankful for the men and women who have given up their lives in order for me to feel peace at home. As an Air Force brat I have a special place in my heart for those who serve their country. As a child I was so terrified that my Dad wouldn't come back from one of his deployments and my heart breaks for those who's fears become a reality in that regard. My gratitude is monumental.

I have always been crazy patriotic in a closeted sort of fashion. When people gripe about the country's multitude of imperfections I have to clench my teeth together so I don't scream, "Come at me bro! Don't mess with AMERICA!" or something horrific like that. It's not that I'm ig-nant of all the things that need fixing here. But the older I get, the more thankful I am for living in the good ol' US to the A. I suspect this love will only get stronger as I live in a third world country for a year and a half. Peru is going to offer me so much and I know I will be so happy there. But America is my home and it always will be.

Thanks again to all the families and individuals who have lost a loved one while they were protecting this amazing land. Your loss is not forgotten.

Dirt bikes and American flags.

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Also. Go see Iron Man 3. I literally silent screamed the whole time. Superhero movies are kind of my jam and Pepper Potts is my girl crush of the century. I held off seeing it for so long because I was worried that she died and there was NO way I was going to put myself through that much pain and heartache. SPOILER ALERT, She lives. Loved it.

Don't Hire Me To Sand Your Floors

As someone who was always a victim of "That's what she said" jokes, I am a little stressed out about the title. Is this a sexual innuendo and I didn't know it? Will people snicker at my naivety?

Deep musings aside, let's talk about the past week in the Ostler household. My parents had the genius idea of starting one of their dreaded "projects". Nothing makes me want to scamper away in a panic like my parents mentioning a little "project" that needs to be done around the house. It's not that I don't like to work...but it is. I mean, it's all fine and dandy if you have a set shift and you're getting paid and you go home afterwards. But house-projects are the exact opposite. You never know when it will actually be done, you don't get paid, and you live in the construction zone. 

This past week we have been re-doing the hardwood floors in the kitchen. Such an asinine job. (10 points to Hufflepuff for using such a boss word.) I would say that we were definitely in over our heads and we were all unpleasantly surprised by how intensive the "project" actually was. At first everyone was like, "hey! it's like camping up in here! woohoo!" but it quickly turned into "i am going to die from inhaling all of these paint fumes and no one will care."

It also didn't help that I was downright awful at everything. It's important to not let go of the sander while it's on because it will grind a giant divot into the floor. I also sanded over my fingers, cried because my poison oak flared up from all the dust, spilled stain everywhere, taped the edges all wrong, and ate all the good snacks. But I am good for things like high self-esteem and comedic relief, so I do have some worth. 

A silent cry for help that was drowned out by the screaming of five giant sanders.

My suggestion? Hire someone.

The Farewell Talk

This was the talk that I gave on Mother's Day at church. It was awesome to speak and even more awesome to be done and have people fawn over me afterwards. Now go hug your mother.

Hello Brothers and Sisters, and happy Mother’s Day. I feel so blessed to be able to speak to you on a day that celebrates womanhood. My name is Alex Ostler and I have been called to serve in the Cuzco Peru mission and report on June 5^th. I cannot even begin to describe my feelings in being able to bring the light of the gospel to all those who are searching for lasting happiness in a chaotic and scary time. Everyone has the ability to feel peace in a world that focuses on pessimism. I know that anxiety can be done away if we put our faith in Jesus Christ and trust that all will be made right in the end. The moment I opened my mission call I had an overwhelming feeling that this was where I was meant to go. I am already so in love with the people of Peru and the beauty that I will find there. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and scared about leaving my life behind for something completely foreign. But the Lord assures us in Doctrine and Covenants 68:6; "Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come."

I know that I will not only help others have eternal families, I will prepare to have my own. Serving a mission will teach me the essential attributes I need in order to be a better woman and mother. According to Sheri L. Dew of the Relief Society Presidency, a woman (with children or not) should have “heroic faith, keen sensitivity to the spirit, abhorrence of evil, and complete selflessness.” There is one woman who I know has all of these qualities and more. And that is my mother. I have never known anyone who cares so much about other people. She is always last in her mind and has a deep love for the scriptures. Her heroic faith has sustained our families through some confusing times and I try not to be too anxious because I trust in my mom when she tells me that everything will be okay. Her faith buoys me when I start to doubt and let the cares of this world override the joy that I can find in living the Gospel.

My mom may not have a fancy career or hold a large role in society, but her quiet and sincere life is one that I know will make her Heavenly Father proud. She is a scriptorian who loves the scriptures with a deep passion that is unrivaled by anyone I have ever met. I remember she would always be reading a beat up Book of Mormon in the car when she would pick us up from practices.  She knows and loves the scriptures and turns to them when she needs answers. When I was younger it annoyed me when she would pull out The Book of Mormon in mid-conversation, but now I see it as a symbol of her unwavering devotion to her beliefs. She is patient and shudders at the thought of contention and teasing, but at the same time she is a fierce protector of our faith, touching people with her testimony in any situation she finds herself in. And she is so fun. As you know my mother is a maniac when it comes to anything involving physical exercise; mountain biking, skiing, swimming, windsurfing, and more. There is joy in her life and it’s the kind that will never fade because it is rooted firmly in her personal testimony.

These are qualities that I fear I will never possess fully. But if I could come back from my mission with a tiny portion of my mother’s characteristics, I would consider myself very successful. My mother’s testimony has sustained me in moments of weakness and trial because I knew that she would never lead me astray. If this church was founded on a bunch of falsehoods than how could someone has intelligent and bright as my mother believe in it with her whole soul?  It’s like the stripling warriors in Alma 56:48, "And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying: we do not doubt our mothers knew it.”

In a world that constantly tells women that they need to be like men, its hard to understand our role. As a woman I have the chance to be soft, to heal the wounds of this world, and to bring beauty and love to my family and community. Although people may belittle women who choose to raise families, God knows and appreciates them. Satan however, is focusing his attack on the family. He is trying to make us believe that bringing children into this world is cruel and irresponsible. Life is hard and therefore children should not be given the chance to experience life. God’s plan revolves around us all receiving bodies so that we may learn and grow. He wants us to feel happiness and see beauty in life even when there is so much hate and ugliness that will surround us. Life is worth it! Children need to be brought into this world and I am so thankful for the women who take that responsibility seriously.

Since going through the temple I have come to understand the importance of gender. We are all so important, but that does not mean we have to be the same. God created man and woman to form partnerships that would replenish and bring joy to this earth. I have loved learning about the Mother of all Living, Eve, as I go to the temple. She made mistakes but this did not stop her from doing her very best. We will all fail terribly, but let us be like Eve and move forward with faith, hoping for a better future as we actively build up the rising generation.

Sheri L. Dew said that “Satan has declared war on motherhood. He knows that those who rock the cradle can rock his earthly empire. And he knows that without righteous mothers loving and leading the next generation, the kingdom of God will fail.” 

I love the image of women knocking down Satan’s power by living up to their fullest potential. I find it empowering that I have the ability to bring children into this world, raise them, and help bring them closer to their Father in Heaven. Not only do we have the chance to be influential in our homes, women also are needed in the world. Who else is going to protect the sanctity of the home and families, if not women? We need to be in our communities and businesses, serving missions and being a force for good. We need to work and volunteer and be social. There is so much good that women will do, especially in partnership with men who love and appreciate our differences.

 President Gordon B. Hinckley once said, “… Women are the creators of life. They are the nurturers of children. They are the teachers of young women. They are our indispensable companions. They are our co-workers in building the kingdom of God. How great is their role, how marvelous their contribution.” 

I bear testimony that God wants nothing more than for us to be full of joy. Families can bring us this joy. He has given us the opportunity to be sealed in the temple so that we will never be torn apart from our loved ones permanently. Life is hard and it is sad and gritty but I am optimistic about the future. I see bright things ahead for all of us. Nothing brings me more excitement and humility as being able to serve a full time mission in Peru. People need this gospel. I pray that God will open my mouth so that I may aide him in his perfect work. I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. His Atonement can and will wipe away our sins and guilt. The repentance process is a loving one, do not be afraid of it. It is the process we must all go through so that we may return to our Heavenly Father, who loves us more than you can even imagine. Thanks to all the people in my life who have supported me and made my mission possible.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen

Is There Poison Oak In Malibu?

The question to the above question is yes, there is indeed a lot of poison oak in Malibu. Of course I didn't know this when I decided to do a sunrise scramble up the side of a mountain in the dead of night.  MISSTAKKKE. (For you, Karrie-Baby.)

For anyone who cares to know, I am seriously seriously allergic to poison oak. You may get all factual with me and say that everyone gets rashes from poison oak and that I am not special... but you do not understand. My face swells up so I look like a water-logged body that has lip plumper smeared all over its eyelids. Terrible, my friends. Oh so terrible.
In middle school I had poison oak on my face for the first day of school....every single year. Pair this with American flag turtle necks, and the light reading of The Illiad, and I was a hit with the boys.
Oh and did I mention that the rash is everywhere? And I mean e v e r y w h e r e. TMI, but I need some sympathy, okay?

I'm sorry that I am a monster.

Besides this slight hiccup I still managed to have a extraordinarily spectacular weekend in my My Homeland, L.A. (Kenzie [who now lives there], thought it was irritating of me to tell people this in high school. Her eye rolls could be seen from all away across the room. This sassiness was obviously a result of her being born in Salem, the slums of all Oregon.)

Some high points of the trip;
~ The sunrise hike was truly magical. It was a miracle that we had so much energy after two hours of sleep.
~ Swimming with the dolphins in Malibu. Kenzie said my animal call sounded like a dying goat, not a chipper ocean princess. (New nickname for dolphins?)
~ Rollerblading at Venice Beach. I am pretty sure we saw a dead homeless man and there was also a dead pigeon.
~ Moseying around Santa Monica. AND GETTING DIP AND DOTS. They still sell those! Surprised? I was.
~Dinner at The Gratitude Café. Where everything is vegan and hippy. One of the dishes was comprised of raw kelp noodles. Imagine me making a gagging face.
~ The last day I was there was kind of a hazy blur. I was all drugged up on allergy medication (for the oak) and so I took naps every where I went. The beach, the middle of UCLA campus, typical.
~Cruising down on bikes to Marina Del Rey and eating Mexican food afterwards.
~ AND A NUTELLA MILKSHAKE AT THE COWS END. GO THERE. DO IT.

The hottest girl in L.A. Thanks for being the best hostess cake around.

Venice Beach. My type of scene, for sure.

The hike that still leaves me itchy.

Yes, there is poison oak in Southern California. And yes, I rubbed ice cubes all over my botay on the plane ride back. Sorry if you happened to be on Flight 575, it would have been horrifying to see. But all in all, my trip was a SUCCESS. Thanks Kenzie and Company for all the good times.

Happy Rain. (If you're in Oregon.)

Do The Creep

Let me start off by saying that I think The Lonely Island is about the sexiest male-singing group I have ever seen....and I still find the above picture irresistible. And when I actually write that down I understand how weird that is.

Hello my name is Alex Ostler and I am super creepy. Don't believe me? You're lying. Everyone knows I am a mega-creep.

Like, if you are a somewhat attractive guy and you say something like, "Hi" or "Nice bike", do not let me find out any information about you. Because I will find you on Facebook, show you to all my friends, and plan our eternal lives together. So please, for the love of humanity, if you aren't interested, don't tell me your name.

Also, I really like taking sleeping pictures. Feast your little eye balls on these beauties.

Still original after 100's of times. 

When I pull up my pants extremely high and tuck my shirt in it looks like I am just being typical, hilarious me. But lets be real, pants up to the belly button are really really comfortable.

My face makes this expression most of the time. To strangers as well as new friends who don't quite understand yet. 

If all goes silent in the house, look around. I will be in the closet, under the table, peeking out from the washer, or lying under a small blanket...watching you. 

In the eighth grade I begged my parents for a voice recorder for Christmas. I now have one. This just seems a little disturbing to me.

This could go on and on, but I need a small inkling of a chance to one day meet someone who will marry me and then find out how messed up I am. 

Sweet Dreams. Beware of the girl wearing high-waisted sweatpants, smiling like Gilly, hiding under your desk, taking pictures of you. She obviously needs some intervention. 

For My Mother Mother

To the mother who loves black licorice, sweat pants, and daily mountain bike rides. Thanks for all of the tacos, snuggles, and needed advice you have given me. (Even if I shrugged it off as "silly" and then came crawling back once I realized you were right.) Out of all the things I will miss while I am in Peru, it will hurt the most to be separated from you.

I now embrace the fact that you always sing "Are The Stars Out Tonight" by The Flamingos when you meet one of my friends. I didn't say I understand it, but I embrace it. 

Majestic.

My Mom is the best mountain biker you will ever meet. Luckily she gave birth to a model-child (me).

Brushing her teeth and blocking her ears from my Dad's bark-like sneezes... in the car.  Not an uncommon sight, surprisingly. 

Isn't she the cutest? This was while I was being a paparazzi with the iPad. 

I love my mother mother. There is not a kinder, happier, or more optimistic human on this planet. I am who I am because of her loving influence. And can you imagine if she wasn't in my life? Imagine how terrible I would be!

Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers in the world.

You are included, Mother Earth.

Beat-Down (In Other Words, I Windsurfed Today)

I love windsurfing about as much as I love leaving parties. Which is a lot. (Why socialize when you can take your bra off at home?) This sport is pure adrenaline. It is also pure pain and frustration. And today was my first time out on the water this season, accompanied by my professional of a father. Now a couple hours later, I am at home (bra-less, of course) and nursing my wounded pride.

Yes, I windsurf. And I drop that little factoid at any opportunity I come across. But never assume that I am actually good at it. That would be a falsehood, and very obvious if you saw me floundering like a drowning rat in the river. It's the type of sport that has an extremely slow learning curve, so I am proud that I can do it, but a little sheepish that it is so aesthetically horrifying, 

I have a lot of things to thank windsurfing for. My cussing habit, for instance, is the spawn born of fighting for my life and dignity everyday on the blustery waters of the Columbia. The reverberating echoes from my profanities would be heard from the shore if not for the fact that my mouth is typically full of water. 

Also, is it so impossible to have people I know pass me on the water when I am actually sailing? Granted, I am usually emerging from the frothy waters like a newly created Orc 57% of the time. But what about the other 43% where I look like a total balla? Does that not count for something? Why does no one witness the moments when I intentionally jump a baby wave? Or go rocket-speed fast? It's really quite unfortunate. 

And can we discuss how easy this sport looks for other people? My sexy friend Kenzie, for example. She fell off the hot tree and hit every. single. branch. Oh, and she will kick your booty booty windsurfing. I saw her father out on the water today and was reminded of how unbelievably talented my lady-crush is. This paragraph really seems out of place. Oooops. 

Kenzie, I would apologize for how creepy this is, but I have a feeling that you understand. 

This sounds like an essay full of complaints. It may seem to be that way, but I actually really do love to windsurf. When you finally get up and start ripping with the wind, you feel free. You feel like a dolphin or orca whale or sea leopard. You feel like a sea fairy. Or a unicorn that also turns into a mermaid.... You get the point. 

The author after being brutally battered. But the smile and shaka indicate her ridiculous excitement over sailing on her new quiver of sails. 

Dreamagical

I am home home home. And it is dreamagical. I have decided that is the only word that really describes this town. My days have had the loose scheduling comprised of mountain biking, moto-ing, eating Mexican food, and just doing Oregonian things. If you come from the magnificent Pacific Northwest then you are well-acquainted with the color green. You are also familiar with hippies who love plants and trees and the backroad hicks who equalize us all out.

Oooo... flower child? I wore this around all day and no one even blinked. Typical Hood River. 

For everyone's information, these table things took me forever to figure out. The better part of an hour was used to assemble them. So be grateful you selfish brats. This is what I would have deemed a "lazy post", but seeing that I went all "A Beautiful Mind" on these ridiculous picture-tables, I will just settle for a "semi-stupid post". 

In conclusion, the point of this post is to notify you that my hometown is better than yours. We have trees and rivers and horses and flowers. It's basically The Shire up in here, alright? 

Peace, Blessings, and Nature.