London

So far an amazing trip.......

Counting Down to London!

Well Hello!  I'm counting down to London this week.....just a few more days.  I've made my packing list and I've been scouting out what to see.  So far my list reads:

Tower of London/ Bridge
Crown Jewels
The changing of the guard/Buckingham Palace
Portobello Road
Borough Market
Harrod's
St. Paul's Cathedral
A pub, any will do
Afternoon tea

So, so many choices to pick from....I keep adding to the list! YAY! I will have to post pictures.

This was a blog I wrote for Firstwivesworld.com

I am in a good place now.  I pause to think as I sip my coffee in the local café.  I come here to write, to think, and reflect.  It’s my escape from reality. While sitting here I often reflect on what I refer to as my “past life” even though it was just about a year ago since my marriage came to an abrupt end.

It was a brutal divorce, as they so often are, and emotionally devastating.  How does one get over being discarded with the morning trash? Abandoned. I felt like a "whore" (excuse my harsh wording) who had reached her expiration date and was being shown the door.

Currently, I have moved on to create my own business in designing swimwear (Persona Swimwear) for women and continuing my education by getting my masters.  I’m well on my way to a career and independence.

It’s hard not to let my mind wander down a path of negativity, my anger fires up and I want to scream-to fight.

Even though I was treated badly, I realized they (the ex's family) do not determine my value.  I know what I’m worth.   I use this anger as fuel.  I’m not going to give up fighting for myself.  All the people from my past life may think I’m nothing, but their opinions no longer matter.  Mine is the only one that matters.

Independence.  Freedom.  I no longer have anyone to inspect my cleaning, ask about my productivity, give me a “to do” list, as if I didn’t have any goals or motivations of my own.  I used to be full of self-doubt, which the Ex used to “help” me and to give me “advice”.

During my marriage I would get horrible anxiety attacks, feeling I needed to be somewhere, to call my husband and report where I had been.  My heart would beat rapidly when I couldn’t make someone happy-a customer, a friend. Any expectations and I would panic. Could I make them happy?

Slowly after my divorce was finalized I started to realize I was safe.  I no longer wanted to make anyone happy, just myself. The other voice in my head lessened (the Ex's) and I could hear a different small voice ask “What do you want to do?” I had more energy.  I felt guilty, because I started to feel moments of happiness. I started to explore.  I dyed my hair red, bought anything with an animal print.

Who is this new person?  It's the new me.

Stanley Tucci is Engaged!!

My friend just called to break the news.  Stanley is engaged. I am in shock.  It seems everyone around me is either in a couple or engaged.  I am the last single standing.  (Please read this blog while playing a sad song in the background for the full effect).  I must continue on with my pity party.  Winter is setting in and I haven't felt like driving to pickup any dates, and they usually go dutch on dinner anyways and then want to feel a boob afterwards.  I've completely lost my dating mojo with winter and now with losing Stanley soon to the "institution".  Oh the drama of it all! Does that now mean my blog has officially lost one of its main purposes?!


It looks like "Hunger Games" star Stanley Tucci may be spending the holidays with John Krasinski. Why? Tucci is engaged to marryEmily Blunt's sister, Felicty, and Krasinski is, of course, married to Emily.

"Stanley is very happy with her," said a source who confirmed the news to Us Weekly.

The couple was reportedly set up by Emily -- who co- who co-starred with Tucci in 2006's "The Devil Wears Prada." She allegedly had a feeling Tucci and her literary agent sister would hit it off and the actor has made "several" visits to London to visit his now-fiancee.

Tucci, 50, lost his first wife, Kate, to cancer in 2009. Between them, Tucci and Blunt will have three children in their new combined family.


"It hasn't been easy for him getting into a new relationship," the source tells Us. "But Felicity is a lovely person and very warm and comforting.

 

Family

Hello! I was browsing through a few photos from this summer.  I thought this one was funny, everyone doing their own thing, but stopped for quick picture.  This is my younger sister Megan, who is holding her baby boy, if you wondered what was on her chest.  Then my niece, Scarlett, and my nephew Ian.  My other sister was taking the picture, she was visiting from Texas.  We are in Park City at the Olympic Park, going down the slides and trams.  I like seeing how each little person has their own personality! 

Anger is my Guide

It's amazing when part of your life comes together and the other parts falls into pieces.  Sometimes I feel like I have my fingers plugging all the holes in a dam.  My swimsuit business is coming together with a local retailer picking up the line for the spring, while my day to day job fell into pieces.  One of the owners went on a tirade not just about my facebook usage, but attacked me as a person.  I was shocked.  Then I went home and got angry.  Anger has become my friend.  It's motivating and works as a guide.  The next day I sat the boss down and we had a long talk.  It turns out there was nothing wrong with me or my performance, it was just an off day for him, which turned ugly.  But I was proud that I stood up for myself, without putting him down in return, and kept my integrity.

I'm just trying to be the best person I can be and why it may not be good enough for some people, it's good enough for me. And that's all that matters.

My new "Friend"

Okay. I have calmed down.  The dust has settled.  I do have my moments of melodrama.  It's my process. I totally freak out and then I take time to mull it over for awhile.  My recent "friend" is not trying to plot against me and single handedly trying to destroy my life.  So far his actions are ringing true to the "Let's just be friends" line.  He is taking the time to get to know me for me and not just based on my sex appeal (or lack of). He's been calling to genuinely ask how my day has gone.  At first I was still suspect with his chipper greeting of "How was your day", but now it's quite charming. My "friend" wants to help me create a Podcast about my dating stories. (I wonder if he knows what he's in for?)  I've never had a man take an interest and support my creativity.  And he's an awesome cook. Ha!

I have to give him credit by making me stop and think.  How well have I known the people I have dated?  I never took the time to take it slow and get to know the person.  It was a defense mechanism to keep from getting hurt.....from connecting. I think I'm out of the "crazy divorce" phase and I'm ready to get to know my "friend".

Now I'm Pissed

***Warning: Major cursing will ensue***Now I'm angry today. How can someone push you away and not even try.  Fear.  I'm supposed to hang around and be friends?  It hurts when you go to hold someones hand and they drop it like a cold fish. Any affection. Denied. That makes me feel loved and valued.  Thanks.  Why would I stick around for that?  Even my God Damn friends will give me a freakin hug.  It's cold.  What happened in his life to put up such a wall.  It frustrates me when someone won't get out of their comfort zone because of fear.  Fear of being hurt.  I say, "Grow some balls and get over it."

It's the risk we take and I guess he's not willing to risk it.  I guess time will tell me what he wants to put out there by his effort.  I can either accept it or not.  But I don't want to go down without at least calling him on his shit.  It pisses me off.  I hate no resolution. Or maybe I just don't want to see the truth?

I guess he does not want to officially break it off because he doesn't want to hurt my feelings? Or maybe he's frightened of my reaction?  That I might curse at him.

So he wraps the turd in a gold wrapper, by putting the spin on it as "Lets be friends".

Or does it mean he wants to slow things down and build trust?  What?

He said he's not boyfriend material.  I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend.  I'm asking to spend time together and just enjoy the present moment. Eat dinner, watch a movie, have sex-that's it.  What's so hard about that?  What the Hell.  Men are confusing.  What's with all this thinking and talking.  Aggravating.

I need to just start mourning the loss of yet another, non-relationship.  Fuck I hate dating.

Why do I still put myself out there? Because the reward of finding a companion, will make it all worth it.  I'm enough, but I want to share my experiences with a friend.  I want to meet someone that takes the jump, gets out of their comfort zone.  Takes life by the balls and makes it work.  If someone is panicking now, then how do you expect them to stick around for anything else.  The first sign of blood and they shit themselves.  Why put yourself in this box?  You live in the box to avoid any pain or unpleasant experiences.  Hurt will still get inside. By staying in this box the only thing that is kept safe is the limit to your happiness.  Why limit yourself? You are missing quality life-changing experiences, ones where you have to get out of the safety zone to obtain them.   "Fortune Favors the Bold"

I'm Confused

Okay. I'm confused and I'm a little bit bitchy.  A nice combo.  I've been dating this guy "Jeff Goldblum" most of the summer.  I thought it was going well.  We went on picnics, he cooked dinner, we had great conversation.  Then his life turned busy with getting a second job to help pay for a few extra things for his son.  So his time became limited.  I understood and knew I would see him less. "Jeff" would still call and text.  The only catch is whenever I saw him, he seemed to be pulling away.  I would go to hold his hand and he would pull it away, simple, but noticeable signs.

This weekend he had me over and he cooked a delicious dinner.  We chatted and then the conversation grew serious when he mentioned that "This relationship mattered more to me than it did to him." That he wanted to "spend more time with his son and less time chasing women".  But I'm the only woman he is dating. I think. And I'm not high maintenance. I think. So I said "Let me understand, you don't like me and that I liked him more". "Jeff" said "No, I like you".  Ugh....all this "liking". Then he said "I just want to KNOW you".  Ouch. That we are now "just friends". Ouch. I wonder what I did to be moved into that category?  I think he just got scared and is afraid to let down any of his walls. Sad that so many people let fear run their lives. Missed opportunities because you are afraid of being hurt.

He just didn't like me that much.

It makes me feel like shit....confused....bitchy.  I just don't understand. Hurt.

Fall Harvest

The air and light has changed outside.  Everything seems to have a warm glow, the last fleeting color of the summer.  The leafs are turning to a rust color on the mountain side.  I can't seem to sit inside, I'm desperate to soak up the remaining light and any opportunity to just be outside.

With it being fall, it means it's time to pick out pumpkins.  My family and I went to a local farm to see the fall harvest and play "farm" games.  We watched pig races, rode around on a "cow" train in the corn fields and then slid down hay slides.  My niece, being two, would go down one slide and start laughing and then end up crying at the end of the slide.  It was hilarious to watch.

We ended up waiting and waiting in a long line to get on the tracker that takes you out to the pumpkin fields. It was so long you could tell it was starting to be past bedtime for the kiddies, because the shrieks increased.  We finally had to call it quits and bribe my niece with the promise of food so we could head home. We will have to go back another day.....hopefully soon.  I was looking forward to wandering the field looking for that perfect pumpkin.  My niece wanted a "baby" pumpkin. Ahh, too much fun!

Uncertainty

Uncertainty. It's hard to live with not knowing.  I have another appointment on Friday to check to see if my precancerous cells have progressed.  I won't know the results for awhile.  I know I will be fine, but I'm scared of the next steps. I have so many things floating right now that I don't have the answers to fix it or make it all go away.  It could be worse. I will have to keep going back for awhile. So I will have to learn to live with this uncertainty. I'm not sure how?  

Working on the Postcard for the Swimsuits

I've been doing homework and designing the postcard for the swimsuit business today.  I would love to be outside enjoying the last bit of warm weather. It's amazing how fast it has turned cold.  I had a nice weekend, I took myself to dinner, gallery stroll, and an outdoor concert.  The Copper Onion has these ricotta dumplings that I can't resist.  I like to go and sit at the bar, ordering the dumplings and a drink.  That's about all that I can afford at this upscale restaurant on a tight budget.  The concert was chilly, but luckily I had remembered to bring a blanket and wear a sweater.  The band was melodic and soothing, their voices echoing off the surrounding buildings and floating up into the crisp air. Sometimes I realize how alone I am and how comforting it feels. It's just me.  I'm starting to think that I don't want to get married again or have someone in my life.  I've been so disappointed.  Tired of feeling any sense of rejection, when I'm accepting. I can see myself getting older and spending my time doing only the things that I love. Exploring creativity.

The City of London

Sometimes life gives you a break.  A very welcomed break!  I'm going to leave my worries behind!  I found out today my work is sending me to London.  I've been wanting to get out of town and have been started to feel that I couldn't escape this Utah bubble, when "the boss" called me into his office and announced that he needed someone in London with a creative eye.  I'm being sent over to redecorate some of the rental properties.  So I get to combine my two loves, style and shopping!  I'm looking forward to seeing the London Tower and the Royal Palace....oh, the list goes on!  Things in life are looking up!  

Beautiful Song, Thought I Would Share

There is No Lion at the Door

The hum of the industrial fan drowns out the voice of the instructor.  I can see her mouth moving but I can't hear her voice. It's like drowning in water.

I want to get up and move. I need to be somewhere doing something. Anything.  Anywhere other than sitting in class trying to figure out a hundred different ways to categorize and define the word curriculum.

Feeling frantic that my life is slipping away as I sit. My heart starts to race.

Then I realize that I don't have anywhere to be-no crisis to advert.  No unpaid bills, no late assignments, nothing to straighten. No one's happiness to maintain.

Am I bored?  Is this a form of contentment?  Am I in limbo?

My body has been in a "Fight and Flight Response" for so long that I have forgotten how to just sit and be still.

Productivity has given me value.

In my marriage I had to justify every move and show a product. "Look at me! I baked a cake, cooked a gourmet meal, waxed the car, exercised two hours for a perfect body, and brought home a paycheck", I would eagerly report to my productivity parole officer (The Ex).

If things were not done up to his high standards there would be.....consequences.

My self-worth has been tied to how much I earned, how much I worked, how much I cleaned, how many tiny errands I could accomplish without having to bother the husband.  Because I gave him all my power, I valued him over myself.

I have a hard time being alone. It's too quiet.  I used to be able to sit down and write, and paint. Now it makes me nervous.  Nervous that my product won't be perfect and I will have to justify my time.  But now I'm in charge and I have to reassure myself that I'm okay just being me.   

How do I relearn to be still and listen? Enjoy my freedom.

It's the first time in a long time, that I don't have to look over my shoulder.

I still feel haunted, I tell myself there is no lion waiting at the door.....  I am safe. 

I'm Dating Jeff Goldblum

well, not actually.  But he reminds me of Jeff Goldblum and has the very same tone of voice......and glasses.  We just started seeing each other and he seems very creative, smart, and genuine.  The conversation is never dull.  It feels nice to have someone that I look forward to seeing.  Life has been great!  I start school again tomorrow-the homework begins and my social life will be over. (Hopefully not entirely)

The Venice Beach Swimsuit

The pictures from the photo shoot are back.  It was a fun and creative process.  I am extremely happy with the photos.  I feel grateful for such a talented and beautiful model, Adrianna, and for the photographer, Fumihiko.  Now onto the next phase of putting the business together! Exciting!!!

The Paris Swimsuit

Alice in Wonderland

Upcoming Photo Shoot

I'm a woman of few words now days.  I don't return voice mails, texts, and e-mails.  Communication is tiring.  What is my problem?

I need a break.

This weekend is the upcoming photo shoot for the swim line.  I can't tell you how excited I am about the photographer, models, and the styling.  I will definitely have to share when I see the photos!  You will be the first to see!

Abstraction

One of my paintings that I have been working on....slowly working on.  It seems I have been socializing more than painting lately.  I can't resist getting out and enjoying all the summer concerts.  There is nothing like having a picnic and listening to live music.  This painting I tried just using a palette knife, instead of a brush. Too much fun scraping paint across the rough canvas.

Down in the Trenches

Who is an expert on writing literature reviews?  Apparently not me. I seem to be confusing a research paper with a literature review?  Basically I have to state what the research and literature are saying about the Howard Gardner Theory of Multiple Intelligences.  I'm completely confused.

I think I will drink this weekend and rewrite the whole damn paper.  Or maybe I should drink less?

I am frustrated with the whole "song and dance" of life.  You have to play the game and play by everyone else's rules to get to where you want to be.

I have no desire to learn how to research.  I want to be a teacher.  Not a researcher.  If I'm paying for my education, could I at least have control over what I would like to learn?

Ahhh, venting.  And more venting.  I'll finish the paper and life will go on.  One step at a time.

"To Love Someone More than you Love Yourself". Beautiful scene from Good Will Hunting

Just So Darn Goood Lookin'

My Hand Slammed in the Door. Again.

Okay.  It's 3am and I'm still awake.  So given that's it late (or early) and I'm upset, I must warn you that random ranting and complaining is going to ensue in the next few paragraphs.

Never! And I mean never am I going to date another Ralph (name changed to protect the partially innocent) again. Nada. Huesta lego. This "Ralph" has decided to be a douche bag. For the following reasons, and I quote:

1-"I sense that you would like a relationship, what are your feeling on this?" (I sense this is a setup, if I had balls they would be in a vice right now)

2-"Because I just got out of a relationship, which was a mere seven months ago, I'm not looking for another one." (Bingo, the setup)

3-"There are just too many beautiful women in Utah, most of them crazy, but beautiful.  And I want to be able to date other people." (Hey, I may have exaggerated on the order of the direct quote, but I think I got the jest of it)

He does get two stars for actually laying it all out there in the open.

But I thought for a moment and just smiled and then I walked to my car, unlocked it, and drove away.

I don't want to be with someone if they don't like me enough to spend time with just me.  I'm not going to use my time and energy for someone that doesn't value it.

The whole setup just screams "Hey you aren't good enough, I don't want to settle, so I'm going to keep browsing".  Nothing makes a woman feel sexier.....jeez....%^$&*#

"Never make someone a priority, when you are only an option".

A Change of Energy

Sunlight peaks through the leafs of a tree as I gaze up into its branches.  I'm laying on my back watching the clouds lazily cruise by.  I'm enjoying this long summer day. It's perfect, all except my homework staring defiantly from the blanket where I had tossed the numerous books and notes.  I know I haven't made a dent in my looming research paper.  But I wanted to just sit still for a moment and not think, which is impossible for me.  My mind tends to wander.

As I'm laying on the blanket, a shadow casts over me and I look up to see a large man smiling a toothless grin down at me. I said hello and he said that he felt he should come over and tell me how beautiful I looked laying in the sun.  I said thank you politely and waited for him to leave.  But he didn't, he just stood there smiling, then he suddenly burst into prose, reciting poetry about my purple dress and gold handbag.  I must admit it was surprisingly clever. And as suddenly as the poetry began, it stopped and he quickly sat down on the blanket.  He was a strange and interesting person, wearing an old cowboy hat with black knit exercise clothes.  He saw me looking at his attire and he casually mentioned he wore it to practice karate in the park and when he went classic skating.

Then just like his poetry he loudly stated, "I need to change your energy to something positive."

I became nervous as to what this was going to entail.  I kept insisting that I was fine and thank you, but no thank you!  He didn't seem to hear my protest as he stood up and started clapping around my head, changing my energy.

He finished clapping and quickly sat down again.  He leaned in closer and whispered "God wanted me to come over here and give you a message.  He said "You have lost faith and hope in people. Don't lose hope." And with that he smiled, stood up, and quickly sprinted away, disappearing behind some pine trees.

For some reason his words lingered.

I might have still been in shock.  This strange little man with his strange ways. I have lost hope in people.

In loyalty.

I want to believe this strange, happy, little man.  I'm still searching.........

Why Men Love Bitches

From Publishers Weekly

Contending that some women are "too nice," comedian and radio show host Sherry Argov has written Why Men Love Bitches: From Doormat to Dreamgirl-A Woman's Guide to Holding Her Own in a Relationship. "I'm not recommending that a woman have an abrasive disposition," Argov writes, "The woman I'm describing is kind yet strong. She doesn't give up her life, and she won't chase a man." Her sassy book is filled with scenarios and advice aimed at making women subtly stronger and self-empowered. Argov's principles, which range from the farfetched to the downright absurd, include "If you give him a feeling of power, he'll want to protect you and he'll want to give you the world" and "A little distance combined with the appearance of self-control makes him nervous that he may be losing you." The book, which has already been featured on The View and The O'Reilly Factor, should make waves with its controversial view of relationships. 

Once again I found myself at Barnes and Noble.  A friend recommended this book, and so there I was in the "Self Help" section.  One of the gentleman that worked there, and a very good-looking one I might add, came up and asked if I need help finding anything.  I couldn't find the book, and asked him to help me find "Why Men Love Bitches".  I could tell he was trying very hard not to crack a smile.  He quickly found the book on the shelf and then turned and asked.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you interested in this book?"

I said coyly.  "Well I've noticed many of my friends act like they don't care about their boyfriends, and the boyfriends seem to be chasing them.  I want to know how it feels to be chased for a change!"

He nodded and turned to leave, but quickly said "I don't like to be treated that way, but let me know if it works, I'm here Monday through Friday from eight to five."

As far as I was concerned, the book was already working!

Stay Calm, Everything is Under Control!

I like to picture myself as a modern day Mary Poppins.  Children smile and get excited to see me when I visit.  I bring all my clever games in my magical bag and the children scream in delight.  Then there's reality, as I picture my niece whacking me in the head with a pair of binoculars, not once but three times. Almost like a wild monkey. I just smiled and laughed thinking she would recognize that it wasn't proper etiquette to whack your aunt in the head.  Yes, she is only two, but I was surprised what force a little arm like hers could carry.

With my vast knowledge of children I debated what to get my nephew for his birthday (no binoculars), I interrogated my sister and she told me to just take him candy shopping. I thought, no sweat I have this.  I'm a regular Van-Trap singing lady with the hills and shit. Then somewhere in between here and there two other children were added to the mix. My other nephew and my crazy monkey niece, whom I love all very dearly I must add.  If I can't make fun of small children, who can I make fun of?

My sister insisted on going, probably because she was worried I would accidentally kill one of them, so we all piled into the car.  We soon discovered that all these kiddies weren't going to fit with all their special seats.  It took about another half an hour to secure all this techie gadget seats into another vehicle.

We were ready to go!

Surprisingly all was quiet except for a whine or two as we drove down the street headed to the old fashioned candy store, Smith and Edwards-a Utah tradition. I looked back at the kids and smiled slowly glancing at the large hornet crawling up my nephews arm.  I quickly put a hand to my mouth to muffle my screams.

Urgently I whispered to my sister "Pull over there is a hornet on Ian!"

I was tempted to jump ship, but I'm one of the responsible adults.  The car slowed and I jumped out screaming "Chinese Fire drill!"

It was like a fun game and I tried jerking the doors open to get the bugger out.  But the doors wouldn't open.  The child locks were on.

I screamed "The child locks, hit the button".

I heard the click and I flung open Ian's door and the hornet whizzed by my head to freedom.  I should have had a hooded cape on, I just saved the day. Yeah!

We silently cruised down the road again.  I decided to lay down the ground rules while we were in the car and I had their full attention.  "If you feel the need to pee, poop, or throw up, you can tell me.  Then I will tell your aunt Megan and she will take care of it. "

Pulling up to the candy store, swarms of people were picking up snacks for a day of boating on Willard Bay.  The kids jumped out of the car and quickly grabbed my arms-they had been trained well.  The massive candy section was close to the front and I could see the kids eyes lock on their ultimate mecca.

We grabbed a basket and their tiny hands eagerly clawed into the barrels of candy.  Dum-Dums, Pez, Bubble Tape, mini meals made out of sugar, and Pixie Sticks all seemed to make their way into the basket.

After the kids started to slow down and felt they had at least ten of everything, it was time to check out.  Forty bucks later and happy smiles, the candy store made for an entertaining and memorable adventure with my family. Always grateful to play the "Crazy Aunt Em".

Homework Has Taken Over my Life

Life has been full of....homework.  And more homework.  I enjoy a little, but not too much, and I'm currently at the "too much". (With one class) At times when I'm swamped I just want to drive to the airport and jump on a plane to Venice and never come back.  I'm sure it would work, I could sell fruit or something?  

I start my thesis writing class in a week.  It's everyday at 7am for three hours.  Now that will be fun.  I have a feeling I will be visiting Starbucks quite a bit.

After I finish my research paper for the term I should post it up here so you all can read it.  It's very exciting.  It's on Albert Bandura and his Social Learning Theory of modeling and imitation.  

I wouldn't do that to you.......

The House That Porn Paid For

My delicate powder blue, vintage inspired dress started to feel constricting.  I tugged at the neck.  Then started itching my arms.  I wanted to ripe it off.  A large herd of women with amazon legs and large plastic breasts were smothering me.  I was a nun in a crowd of scantily clad, bleached haired twenty somethings.

This party was my cousins idea.  "A chance to get out and mingle with the local Vegas community" she casually mentioned, but neglected the part that this community happened to be in the porn industry.

The owner of the house stood at the bottom of a sweeping staircase with a few women embracing his arms.  He was a modern day Hugh Hefner.  No one could really say exactly what he did in the porn industry, but being that he was a mere five foot four, I was guessing he was a distributor rather than a participant.

This was quite the house, with views of the Vegas lights, marble floors, and all the bells and whistles one could ever hope for.

Many of the guests clustered around the indoor basketball court, golf screen, bowling alley, dance floor, or hot tub.  I was half expecting to hear cheesy "porn" music pouring out of the speakers, but noticed a DJ spinning at his station on the dance floor. I walked over to the buffet impressed, but then I saw a spread of "Donnettes" on the table, imaging this would be something the photography crew would eat during a shooting break.  I knew a man had picked out the assortment of powdered, glazed, and chocolate Donnettes. Cheap and easy, just like the crowd.

Powder sugar coated the sides of my mouth as I snacked and watched people get in and out of the pool.  It seemed the more people drank the more clothes would come off. I started to scratch at my high collared dress again.

People would go into a room for awhile and a few would come out, then two more would go in, odd behavior.  I wanted to leave.

Around four am I was becoming deliriously tired. I had already attempted the "I'm tired, let's go" phrase, several times to my cousin, but each time she skillfully ignored me. This time I casually walked up and yanked the golf club out of her hand, threw it across the floor, and said. "It's time to go."

Leaving gaping mouths and a screen full of green grass and sand traps.

With my wild hair and smeared mascara, I was convincing.

I dragged my cousin and her boyfriend to the car. We were short some pants, shoes, keys, and phones.

"If it's not on you at this moment it ain't coming with you." I repeated loudly like a patient flight attendant, pointing to the door.

Shoving them into the car, I forgot I had no idea where I was going, I accidentally drove a half an hour the wrong way, ending up in the Vegas desert.  I was tempted to leave their limp bodies, but I figured that wouldn't be very nice.

Finally finding my bed, and leaving my friends like two year olds asleep in the car, I peeled off my dress, grateful I didn't have an "audience"and fell asleep.

Vegas, cheap and easy......but always unexpectedly entertaining.

Stanley Tucci cast in 'The Hunger Games'

Stanley Tucci cast in 'The Hunger Games'

by Karen Valby

In a move bound to delight even the most wary of Hunger Games fans, Lionsgate announced today that Stanley Tucci (The Devil Wears Prada) will play smooth-talking interviewer Caesar Flickerman in the film adaptation. Flickerman is a pivotal supporting player throughout Suzanne Collins’ best-selling trilogy. It is he who’s charged with introducing Jennifer Lawrence’s Katniss Everdeen, as well as all the other tributes, to the Capitol audience. If the tributes are able to ingratiate themselves upon the audience in their brief time with Flickerman, they up their chances of survival.

Flickerman cuts a garish figure — in the 74th Hunger Games, his hair, lips, and eyelids are dyed powder blue and he wears a blue suit peppered with blinking lights — and, like most in the Capitol, has had extensive plastic surgery. The Hunger Games goes into production this month and will be in theaters March 23, 2012.

Escape from Sanity

Sometimes life throws you a few curves.  Even in just a day! We all have our way of escaping.  Some people have a glass of wine with dinner, some listen to music, some exercise, and I like to go to Barnes and Noble and skim through books.  I find that the books in the children's area make me smile and remember when life was so simple.  I love the brightly colored scribbled cartoons and the pages with swatches of texture, feeling the patch of soft velvet.  It reminds me of my childhood, spending hours engrossed in a book, dead to the world.

Strolling through the "Marketing" section I decided to gain some insight and picked up a few books.  I made my way over to a few wooden chairs in the corner.  I hunkered down for reading.  A book about marketing to women was fascinating, I was so enthralled I almost didn't notice a "gentleman" sit next to me.  He squirmed to get comfortable and let a little gas slip out.  I glanced at him through the corner of my eye.  He didn't seem phased.  It was an accident, it happens.  I continued to read and he decided to unleash.  Now I did the full head turn combined with a steady dirty look.  He still didn't seem to be concerned.  That was enough.

I escaped to another area and walked through the "Self Improvement" section.  I noticed a woman whose face was all flushed from crying.  Then I realized it was my friend "Christie" that I had met through other friends in Vegas. I vividly remember her coming back to the hotel room with blood gushing from her forehead.  She mumbled that she had been hit in the head with a Police baton, but didn't explain as to why.

I was startled seeing someone I knew in my area of town.  It was an unexpected surprise.  I asked what was wrong.  She hesitated and then decided to mentally "unleash".

She revealed that she was living in the Psych unit and decided to walk out.   She walked a few blocks to this Barnes and Noble.  She told me that she was raped.  Then she told me she had a miscarriage.  Then she told me that she had driven to a Buddhist monk temple in Los Angeles. Then drove back to live in the Psych unit.  Her story had so many twists and turns I was lost.

I figured she had been through so much in life and mistreated by men that she didn't know what reality was anymore.  I bought her a hot chocolate and convinced her to go back and continue getting help.

I put her in my car and drove her back.

As I watched her walk into the Psych building, she quickly ran back to my open car window and made me promise to come and play dodge ball with her and the other group in the ward.  I agreed, picturing myself running around getting nailed with a large rubber ball.  She happily skipped back into the building.

Christie literally needed an escape that day and found a few hours of peace at Barnes and Noble, a friend and a cup of hot coco.

Alice In Wonderland

I'm still debating what to call this particular suit.  Alice in Wonderland, Jackie O, or the  Blue Bow?

The Paris with Peekaboo Shorts

Venice Beach Bikini

Looking Forward to Friday

Can it be really happening?  This Friday I will be receiving the finished samples to my swimsuit designs.  It's been a long process to get this far.  The sampling phase is a practice run for the production company before they go into doing a "run" or producing the suits in quantity.  It has taken me about three to four months to actually find a company in the United States that had advanced sewing techniques to be able to sew the underwire and bra cups into each piece. 

The next few steps will be both time consuming and nerve racking, but I'm determined to get through it and find myself on the other side, swimsuits in hand!  I'm planning/hoping for a soft launch to the public in July and for retailers this fall. 

I can't tell you how excited I am to see the commerically finished suits!  It's like having one of my paintings come to life!  I will post pictures of the samples soon.....

Sometimes You Must Set Yourself on Fire

A loud inhuman wail came from the kitchen.  I froze.  I peered around the corner to see where the sound was coming from.  Inaudible voices softly murmured. I could see my grandmother standing away from my father  her hands placed firmly on her hips.

I had never seen my father cry like this.  His breathing erratic through his deep sobs and free-flowing tears.

Suddenly he slammed his fist on the counter, making my grandmother jump.

"Why would you do this? Don't you love all your children?" He said with a tormented expression while gazing at my grandmothers face. Searching for empathy. Understanding.

His fist shoots into the air, trying to battle an unseen monster.

Silence.

"You have given me nothing. The last thing you could do is leave what you have to your children. " He vehemently spits the words. Years of boxed up fury.

It seems in my grandmother's household, not all children are loved equally.

My father played the role of the dutiful and caring son, while hiding the neglect.

This Trust and Last Will was one last punishment for daring to start his own life and leaving.

Leaving her.

He slammed his fist against the counter.  Grandmothers arms raised defiantly across her chest.

He knew this outburst was fruitless.  She made him feel like that tiny helpless boy again.  Embarrassingly wearing the same soiled jeans for years at school, being tormented by his classmates. His mother amazingly not seeing his need for affection or care.

This was her last chance to provide for her family.  To bring peace. If she had said she was sorry he would have forgiven her.

But she stared past him, seeming to examine the knick-knacks on the wall.

Viewing this indifference, his face steamed to a blustery red.

Screaming, "Why won't you listen? Why don't you love us equally? " Shouting everything that he wasn't supposed to bring out of the darkness.  It was as if he had unlocked the family safe, pulled out its contents and set it all on fire.

A hot brilliant flame she couldn't ignore.

I'm proud of my father for refusing to be a victim and for doing for himself what he needed to do-saying how he really felt.  He will never hear any apologies, but he had all the dirty laundry out in the open and off of his chest.

A Rough Week

This week has been a rough one. I'm sure I will be out of this rut tomorrow, I'm going out with my friend Chris and his friends, I think it will be a fun group and lots of laughs.

I haven't felt like blogging this week. I had a minor procedure at the doctors office, and I didn't feel well for a few days. It was mentally taxing for so many different personal reasons.

The doctor was checking for cancer.

I should have the test results back in two weeks.

She said that it's far off from actually having cancer, but if they find precancerous cells, then I have to go in and have another procedure.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I don't have to go back in.

It made me realize how fragile our health can be and that I don't want to ever go back to any doctors office.

Maybe when I can laugh about it, I will post a few funny stories about it and all that happened last week. For now I'm snuggled in blankets watching a movie and snacking on ice cream.

The Mormon Casserole

**I thought I would share with you an excerpt of my essay writing, this one is about my mother's Mormon cooking (sorry mother)**

Another meal she liked to torture us with was broccoli and cheese soup. I remember the day the recipe arrived. Hearing a light knock, I bounded down the stairs, swung open the door and came face to face with Rhonda Eddy. Her unsmiling face greeted me and she looked highly annoyed that I had answered the door, her swollen face staring down as she asked, “Is your mother home?”

“She’s in the bathroom, “ I replied confidently. We continued to stare in silence as I left her plump body standing on the porch, her sunken eyes piercing into my inner thoughts.

Toilet flushing, water running, mom rushed down the stairs, smiling in embarrassment. Ms. Eddy’s neck seemed to appear as she raised her head to greet my mother.

She proudly announced, “I brought you a new recipe to try.” And she slowly slipped a piece of paper past me into my mother’s hand, like she was giving away a top military secret.

My mother read, “Broccoli Cheese soup. “

It was like Hell had opened its’ gates, I just didn’t know it at the time.

My mom was energized to start testing this mystery recipe, because she piled us all into the car, drove to the store, and loaded the cart with the supplies. Lots of Velveeta cheese.

Mom boiled up a batch and strapped my two-year-old brother into his highchair. He couldn’t escape.

Then she began to test it on us.

Immediately there were screams of horror. Moans were heard throughout the room as I glanced at my sister gagging, which made me gag. My brother was smart and started to pour it over his body. A clever toddler method to avoid the concoction.

How could a soup go so wrong?

Then the threats started as we proclaimed our independence, joining together in defiance.

“You have exactly ten minutes to eat the soup! I’m setting the timer” mother threatened crossing her arms and towering over us.

I looked to my older sister for a solution. She looked panicked. Usually she had some clever idea of putting the food in her hand, mashing it, then sticking it under the plate and calmlyu walking the plate to the sink. Soup would be trickier.

She betrayed me. She started to eat it. Then my younger sister followed suit. Traitors.

I was left to my own device. I started to cry. Hoping mother would take sympathy. No such luck. She restarted the timer giving me another five minutes. I cried and squirmed, four minutes disappearing.

Counting down to the last minute. I did not want to be grounded. It was now or never. It was go time. I pulled the heavy spoon up and began to fill my mouth, figuring I could swallow it all at once. I gagged and spit like a rabid dog.

Then it came out my nose. Chunks of broccoli.

Mother was not pleased. By the look on her face and her set jaw, flinching intensed anger. I knew I was grounded.

Time was up. I was sent to my room to face the wall. My stomach started to growl in protest.

The Hymn of the "Mad Hatter"

I work in a small office with about four people. It's located in Utah, so everyone is conservative....that is except for me. I try to keep my liberalism on the "down low", but my bright red hair, wild outfits, and loud laugh quickly give me away.

My coworkers tease and call me the "Mad Hatter" from Alice in Wonderland. I would like to think that I don't resemble Johnny Depp with a large frizzy red wig?

Sometimes when we are having our weekly meetings my eccentric side unknowingly comes out.

We were discussing luxury hotels and our experiences and I mentioned that I like to have a custom food service available, the ability to call the concierge, requesting to have a bottle of champagne and strawberries waiting in the room.

A coworker said, " Wow was this when you were married?"

I realize that all of them have only been with one person their entire lives and have gotten married in the temple.

I held back the truth and just nodded. I didn't feel the need to tell them I had on occasion enjoyed flying to New York for the weekend with one of my many past boyfriends.

After the meeting, I started my "to do" list. We had a few light bulbs out in the office and I was tired of working in the dark. So I set some of the antiques and decorations aside so I could reach some of the bulbs. When I moved an old Mormon Hymn book, the owner laughed and said I probably didn't even know what it was.

I quickly replied, "I've been to church and used to sing the hymns every Sunday."

He looked surprised, and asked "Were you raised Mormon?"

I said "Yes." confirming that I was once indeed a Mormon.

He said, " Well how did you feel about going?"

I tartly replied, "Hungry!"

He looked confused. I said whenever I went to church the meetings were so long that all I can remember is feeling hungry. All you had for about five hours was a measly morsel of man-handled sacrament "Wonder" bread.

You think with all those people there would be at least one snack machine in sight. He laughed and I knew he was one of the fellow hungry church goers.

We did have something in common.....food.

Mark and Morgan

Thought I would share two paintings of two friends from when I studied with Jeff Hein in Salt Lake City. He's an amazing teacher. And it was an amazing opportunity to study with him. He's an artist I definitely admire.

Mr. Sex and the Underpants

Rushing to park in the rain, I quickly slide into the next available spot, jumped out of my car and neglected pulling the park break. Damn I was late. I hate being late, and I was currently working on fifteen minutes, so I didn't want to waste another minute by properly securing my car.

Unnecessary details.

My heels clicked on the asphalt as I sprinted across the street and up the restaurant's sidewalk. I realized I didn't want my date to see me running like a crazy person, I abruptly stopped and tried to smooth my hair out and catch my breath.

Little did I really know what smooth meant, I thought it was just something I did with my hair.

Inside the entry Mr. Sex sat waiting. Impeccably perched as if sitting was too much of an inconvenience. He slowly stood up and gracefully smiled as if he hadn't noticed my tardiness.

He was cool, calm, and collected. Smooth. Very smooth. His jet-black hair and olive skin gave him an exotic look. He was Persian. Mr. Sex had the eyes of Slyvester Stallone, relaxed with thick lashes over chocolate brown ovals. I was starting to feel self conscious, his designer jeans and Affliction plaid button-up shirt paired with his trench and scarf made me feel severely under dressed.

He was groomed to a "T"-nothing out of place. The shaved arms, the smooth manicured nails, the bleached teeth, the clean smell of fresh Cologne, and the cool relaxed tone of his voice.

Smooth. Very smooth.

While spooning my parsley-infested soup to my lips, I became paranoid that I had something in my teeth. I wanted to reach up and quickly scratch at my cuspids, but Mr. Sex would see. Surely he would understand the need of removing a foreign green object? Hmm...probably not.

I was nervous. Then I asked myself WHY?

I'm human. This clearly was a strictly superficial date, and I am far from perfect. So I stopped pretending to be and had a little fun with Mr. Sex.

Raising my voice, I asked "Are you into one-night stands", and I smiled coyly, confident my teeth were parsley free.

His face light up as if this was the true question he'd been waiting for. He quickly replied, "It depends on the opportunity. If you offered to come back to my condo now, I wouldn't say no." And he smiled coyly.

Then I said firmly, "Well I'm not. I would never do that." (The Shut Down)

His smile quickly faded and he tried to back pedal. Fast. Mr. Sex said, " You are a beautiful woman, I would have made an exception this once."

I thought to myself....sure, this once. Sure.

When you ask a direct and unexpected question, the first answer is generally the honest one....the second answer is always a lie. I was positive he was used to women swooning over him and listening to his every word. I wasn't one of them. I refused to be fooled and manipulated. I had a narcissist on my hands, and through dealing with my ex husband I could see through all of his false compliments.

Mr. Sex and his charm wasn't working and he was starting to get frustrated. He said normally he wouldn't order dessert, because of his diet, but he was feeling the need to splurge. (out of being rejected)

He strolled over to the pastry counter and bent over to examine the wares closely. His tight jeans revealed another level of Mr. Sex, a midnight black, silk "man thong" peeked out.

My eyes widen.

I quickly ordered a slice of the chocolate cake. To go.

Mental Abuse

Mental Abuse: What is it?

Last night I cracked open an old book of mine and stumbled upon an article I had saved by tucking it inside. It brought back thoughts that I had not considered for sometime. This article reminded me that it's going to take awhile to heal and to acknowledge the unhealthy behaviors that I might still be utilizing from my past experiences. I want people to be aware of what mental abuse is, so hopefully they know it when they hear it.

It mentions several points, which I have added a few personal remarks. This can be with a partner, friend, co-worker, or family member.

1. Never under estimate the power of negative words. They cause progressive, long term harm. Being told that "You should have higher standards", and "You look like half a million, but if you exercised you would look like a million". It may not be blatant mental abuse like calling someone "stupid", but it's more insidious-harder to detect.

2.You are always told that it's your fault. Nothing is ever right. Nothing is ever good enough.

3.You are more inclined to believe your partner than you are yourself. Overtime the put downs, start to make you question your own judgement. You lose confidence in your abilities. You can't feel the strength of your own convictions.

4. Your Partner Blows Hot and Cold. He can be very loving, but also highly critical of you. Telling you things like, "You never work hard enough" and "Why can't you just at least do the simple things right?" He is short on care and consideration. You can try to make him happy, but it's never good enough. You are like the dog in the relationship rather than an equal partner. You are living in a control-based relationship. The mental abuser struggles with his own feelings of worthlessness and uses his relationship to create a feeling of personal power, at his partner's expense.

5.You feel as if you are walking on eggshells. There is a real degree of fear in the relationship. You dread his outbursts, he may shout or smash things. You feel anxious.

6. You can heal. You are the loving partner that tried, against all odds to make it work, which has caused you enormous emotional damage. You struggle with anxiety and low self-worth. I know I constantly expect radical immediate change of myself, which is a common symptom. But with time and acknowledging the past wrongs, while constantly working to prevent falling into another controlling relationship, I will find a healthy and loving partner. Or feel completely comfortable living just with myself. It's now my choice. The important part is to take care of yourself and make yourself happy.

Things That Make Me Happy

The simple things in life are often what brings us the most joy, or you have heard the saying "simple pleasures". I love the warmth of the sun on my skin. Hearing the ocean brush up against the sand as seagulls lazily drift in the breeze. I love color, candy-red high heels, things that sparkle, polka dots and the feel of satin fabric on my fingert tips. Why not live everyday surrounded with the people and the little things that make us happy? Last Friday I enjoyed swirling my red hair up in a twist in an almost avant-garde style, a slight peacock feather tucked into the side, blending with the motion of my hair. You only live once, why not tuck a feather on the side?

I've had some extra energy lately, so I reorganized my closet and put on display my favorite accessories. It's fun to get dressed and assemble new outfits. Something to look forward to everyday.

I'm Cheating

I'm cheating on Stanley with Aaron Eckhart. (Well, not technically, but metaphorically. Don't get your hopes up too much!)

I've strayed from my preference of the nicely-headed bald man and have gone for the dimpled chin and square jaw.

(We'll call him Chris) We ran into each other at a night club. He was huddled in the corner with his friends, all seeming afraid that they might have to dance, when I spotted this cute creep in the corner.

I ran over and immediately pushed him with me up on stage, we both kept laughing at our horrible dance moves.

Chris was wearing a sweater. I asked, "Aren't you freakin' hot in that thing". He said yes, and I peeled it off of him, lucky for Chris that he had on an undershirt.

Shoot.

We exchanged numbers and he actually called the next day.

Not sure if I can technically claim we are now dating, because he's always working to pay for his school. (Which I do admire to avoid the gruesome student loans.)

But I think I might get to see him this weekend.

6'1, brown hair, brown eyes, and the cutest smile....with the dimples. Yeah, I might have a bit of a crush on this one.

And I must confess, he is an excellent kisser.....

Everything is Working?

As of this moment, my life is like a well-oiled machine. All the parts are humming along in perfect harmony. No smoke coming out of the engine, no gasket blown, but maybe a few wires have short circuited? (I had to throw that in there)

I was trying to think of something to bitch and moan about and I've come up empty handed. Whenever I try to get "bummed" about something not going right, I seem to have a "ying for my yang".

-I will never work again-now I have a job.
-The swimsuit line has died due to costs-They sent me over the wrong production quotes.
-I will never date or find love again-I have three dates this weekend. (leftovers for everyone!)
-My painting career is over and I will be a starving artist-I just sold a painting yesterday.

So! My career, love life, family, and health are well.

There's my report.

Thank God all is well!

Grandma's Curves

Nothing puts me in a better mood then spending time with my grandma. She's a great example of being a good person. Through out the years she has never forgotten my birthday and has always brought me a treat whenever I was having one of my two million mini-meltdowns this past year. She rarely gets angry-actually never.

She is always a lady.

Before leaving the house, her hair has to be fluffed and she has to be dressed appropriately.

When I was visiting her down in Southern Utah, I had mini-meltdown 2,312,001. I think it was over my cousin having a fabulous boyfriend (other people's happiness makes me very unhappy). I heard myself whine, "Why not me?"

Grandma tried lifting my spirits with chocolate, but it didn't work. So she stepped it up, demanding, in Grandma's subtle way, that I should go work out with her.

What? Work out?

Grandma quickly fluffed her hair, put on a lace-collared shirt, black nylon slacks, and pink sneakers.

I was surprised that a "lady" would exercise. And I was surprised again when we pulled up to "Curves", because a "lady" would never exercise in public.

But this was an all women's gym, so it was acceptable.

Grandma was filled with enthusiasm and jazzed to be working out together. I told her I would "spot her" and she looked at me strangely (ladies don't bench press).

The set up is in a circle and you quickly go from one machine to the other, with dancing in between.

The speakers blared "Let's Hear it for the Boys" as grandma quickly darted from one machine to the next, eagerly dancing to the music between sets. She explained it was important to keep her heart rate up.

She quickly stopped when she started to sweat (ladies don't perspire).

Her "cheering up" technique worked. I will never forget my Grandma working the machines in her lace-collared shirt and dancing.

I love my Grandma, the lady that she is.

Stanley and Sundance

A thick layer of smog and dirt covered the sun and hadn't left for weeks. I was ready for change and some sunlight, so I got in the car and headed for Park City. Having lived in the area for awhile I knew it would be clear blue skies.

As I was making my way up the canyon I remembered it was Sundance and a swarm of people would be taking up every last parking space. But I had a few tricks up my sleeve, or ten dollars in my pocket for parking.

I was able to park right on Main Street and wondered up the street staring at the crowds of people. A few bodies were lurking in the alley ways, which I assume were paparazzi. I stopped and visited a few of my old haunts and gallery friends.

As I was walking out of one of the galleries, I almost pushed into "Ray Leotta", yeah...I have no idea who that is, and then almost immediately bumped into a child actor from some whale movie? I guess Tatem (Tater-tot) Channing was still inside the building. See, I'm not up on all my celebrities-I should watch more TV.

I asked a man standing in the alley who these people were and he Cooley informed me. Then I realized he was paparazzi and I had to ask him one question. Have you seen Stanley Tucci?!

He laughed and said, "You just missed him."

DAAAMMMIT!

I stormed off. Jumped back into my car. And drove down the hill back into the smog.

But at least I did get that slight ray of sunshine.

The Friend Request

I thought my non-relationship was going well. We spent every weekend together and had a fabulous time over Christmas. He painted a "future" of trips, new places to eat, and telling me that he "Liked me." I would reply that "I liked him too!"

Things were peachy until I received a Facebook "Friend Request" from a girl I didn't know.

I remember him being open and mentioning that he was dating her and I told him I was dating different people as well, but with this "request" I realized that I was starting to care about him more than I let myself acknowledge.

I told him about the "request" and he was surprised as to why she would do that, and that he was still dating her.

Was he sleeping with her? I became territorial.

Everything unraveled.

I knew it was over when at my birthday party, he texted that he was "too tired to come and was going to crash".

I understood, because everyone goes to bed at eight o'clock on a Friday night! Yeah!

So digging deep and finding the stalker inside, I piled all my girlfriends into the car and did a "drive by". Sure enough, an unidentified vehicle was parked in the driveway. Ha! I knew it! My stalker was satisfied.

Two days later he calls. His tone of voice is already mopey as I ask him how he is doing and slowly he whispers, "Ok." And says, "He's not ready for any commitment and that he is sorry but he is going to have to go with the other girl. But that I've been alot of fun." as I pictured him patting me on the back.

It took me about another three hours to have it sink in that I had been DUMPED!

I would like to scream "Jerk!" and horrible icky names to try and make myself feel better, but I actually feel bad that he doesn't know what he wants in life, as far as marriage and finding someone to be with. Even with everything I have been through I still believe in taking that risk and finding a connection. It's the greatest feeling to "love someone more than you love yourself"-Good Will Hunting.

You can stay the same with the same relationship of just "watching TV and having sex", or actually build a life with someone. Why not take the risk? The joy in life comes from doing things that scare us and excite us.

It's all in the jump.

Too often "love" is a rendezvous of superficial affection. Nothing gained and nothing lost. To grow as people we need time and getting outside of our comfort zones to form a deeper connection.

I hope that he finds someone that makes him laugh, challenges him, and helps him find the beautiful things in life.

"Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."-Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ex and the city

I love Sex and the City, but I especially love this scene. This is how I felt in my marriage and I now often find myself in a similar situation. The show makes me really want to live, visit, or mail myself to New York City!

Finished Landscape

Haven't posted a painting in awhile. This is a small 8x10 of the Utah landscape. And well, today is my birthday! Yay! So far I'm having fun and doing nothing productive, except this blog.....it's considered productive-right?! I went to lunch with my grandparents, and my niece and sister came over and brought me a birthday cupcake and a lovley vintage headband. Tonight I'm going to dinner with a long time friend. Then tomorrow is the big ladies night out with a few bars and dancing. Good Times!

The Electric....Slide!

Having combed the lakes and mountains of Utah to find that special man and turning up empty handed, I reluctantly agreed to go with my friend Trudy to a "Mormon Standard" dance.

Yeah....I must be getting desperate.

I've gone to this type of dance before but it was when I was in my teens. I remember some of the rules which you were quick to learn because the "herd" would not let you forget. You weren't just scolded by one but by all.

-Modest dress, no cleavage, tangs, or short skirts

-Modest dancing, aka...no grinding and Elvis impressions

-No close slow dancing (to leave room for the Holy Ghost)

Arriving at the entry point, a large sign read all the points that I remembered in bold letters. I quickly looked down at my fuchsia pink sequin skirt and started tugging to try and cover my legs just a tad bit more.....I might just pass the guards at the door. Yes my skirt was originally a tube top, but I thought it would function as a skirt too. Resourceful.

Passing inspection, we gazed out onto the dance floor. People were spread out like eggs in a carton, slightly moving to an upbeat song. At first they reminded me of zombies, but then I recognized the song and the dance. You guessed it. The Electric Slide. Yes, the most asexual song out there, usually played while shopping at the grocery store.

The dejay must have been strictly instructed not to play any slow songs because it all stayed fast. I suppose the "guards" were worried it would become an orgy on the dance floor. So the dancers continued their dance as if they were being jostled in a car wreck.

Noticing that we were standing out by not standing glued to the wall we quickly blended in by pasting ourselves to a banister. We slowly scooted our way with the crowd making our way to what seemed to be the main attraction. The food.

It was a small buffet. A child's wildest dream: skittles, licorice, and punch. I guess the only high at this dance was going to be a sugar high. The "Muddy Buddies" were particularly my favorite. A treat that is not only economical but efficient. You put Chex Mix into a plastic freezer bag with chocolate chips, butter, and powder sugar and then violently shake the bag to evenly coat. Nothing fancy here, but effective.

Having gorged ourselves on all the delectables, we moved back onto the dance floor. As I peered into the mass of zombies, a man approached and started to scream at me. I quickly realized that his hearing was gone, which wasn't unusual for a man in his eighties.

He shouted, "What a lovely young lady" as his eyes darted to my sweatered chest. I smiled and said "Thanks", and slide away in another direction. He followed as if he had become a limb.

Another thirty minutes of this game and I had had enough.

The party was over.

With my belly full of skittles, Trudy and I headed back to the car, laughing about the odd mixture of people. She was also amused that I was able to not get kicked out of the dance.

I obeyed all the rules....maybe next time I will have to break a few.