The past few days have just been a flurry of activity. It’s like I haven’t stopped moving since I arrived in San Diego!

Yesterday we finally began cooling down from the excitement of my little sister’s graduation week with some Father’s Day celebrations. First, my little girl wished her Daddy a Happy Father’s Day from afar:

It takes a pretty great Daddy not to remove that picture from Facebook due to embarrassment.

In the early afternoon, my Daddy and I went to see Super 8 (second time for me). It was totally right up his alley and I was excited for him to see it! He really liked it. What I didn’t like? The man in the U of O hat in our theater. As we left, I told him “No offense, but I don’t really like your hat.” He looked at me like I was insane until he saw that I was wearing an OSU sweatshirt. Gotta love some friendly rivalry 🙂

In the evening, we had my Stepmom’s grand kids over while their parents went our for some “grown up time.” They are so darn cute! I had a great time discussing possible zombie survival techniques with 6-year-old (I think…) Tanner. I also discovered that he is a fan of Titanic, therefore we are totally BFFs.

Now I am about to head out to have lunch with my favorite couple in the world: Sarah and Hans.

Yes, Sarah, I stole that picture off your Facebook. Deal.

Post-lunch, I have to get my booty home and get a workout in and pack since my Mom, sister and I are leaving for Canada tomorrow. I told you there is no time to breathe! And as soon as we get home from Canada, I am throwing in a load of laundry and packing again since ^^Sarah^^ and I are headed somewhere absolutely epic. But more on that later…

My Mom and I may be twins, but my Dad and I are practically the same person.

My Dad is the kind of guy who is loved by everyone. In fact, he was destined to have two girls, since he is far too sweet to raise a house full of boys.

My Daddy spent 21 years driving my sister and I to gymnastics every weekend, taking us on 5-day-long Disneyland vacations, and making sure that our house was always sufficiently silly.

My Daddy and I traveled all over Ireland and Scotland together. It was, perhaps, the best two weeks ever.

My Daddy stood in the pouring rain for five hours to catch me at every turn in the Portland Marathon. In fact, he drove for two days simply to see me run. My Daddy spent an hour in traffic trying to get me to the starting line of my first marathon. And after all that, he still met me at the finish line.