Stanley Tucci & New York City

The website is Done! Persona Swimwear (www.personaswimwear.com)

2012-01-10T16:30:00.000-08:00

Hello! I have been working hours....and I mean hours on the swimwear site. Just when you think you are done, another item pops up!

It's been an interesting learning process with how to add the Paypal checkout system along with creating the "buttons" seen on the page.

I'm currently working on how move the site up in the Search Engine ranks. Any tips or ideas would be most welcomed.

Thanks for your support! Check out the site at www.personaswimwear.com

LIfe is busy, hectic, and fun!

2012-01-04T21:46:00.000-08:00

It's been awhile since I've posted, but it seems every time I post I use that very phrase! Life has been keeping me busy with grad school, I have a full-time schedule this semester, and will be actually going into the schools to observe elementary classes. This observing is preparing me to student teach. I'm actually enjoying working with the kids, they have so much energy and creativity. I feel lucky to have this opportunity to go back to school and find a career that I love.

London

2011-12-11T21:17:00.000-08:00

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

Counting Down to London!

2011-11-27T23:45:00.000-08:00

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

2011-11-17T21:48:00.000-08:00

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.

This is Mostly for Myself-to never forget

2011-11-13T11:27:00.000-08:00

I saw this post the other day, and it reminded me how far I've come emotionally in my life. It reminds me to fight for myself. You are your own expert, friend, and advocate. Never give your power away. Hold it close.

What is Emotional Abuse? Abuse is any behavior that is designed to control and subjugate another human being through the use of fear, humiliation, intimidation, guilt, coercion, manipulation etc. Emotional abuse is any kind of abuse that is emotional rather than physical in nature. It can include anything from verbal abuse and constant criticism to more subtle tactics, such as repeated disapproval or even the refusal to ever be pleased. Emotional abuse is like brain washing in that it systematically wears away at the victim's self-confidence, sense of self-worth, trust in their own perceptions, and self-concept. Whether it is done by constant berating and belittling, by intimidation, or under the guise of "guidance," "teaching", or "advice," the results are similar. Eventually, the recipient of the abuse loses all sense of self and remnants of personal value. Emotional abuse cuts to the very core of a person, creating scars that may be far deeper and more lasting than physical ones. In fact there is research to this effect. With emotional abuse, the insults, insinuations, criticism and accusations slowly eat away at the victim's self-esteem until she is incapable of judging the situation realistically. She has become so beaten down emotionally that she blames herself for the abuse.

Stanley Tucci is Engaged!!

2011-11-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-29T10:06:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-25T16:38:00.000-07:00

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"

2011-10-15T23:36:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-09T15:02:00.000-07:00

***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

2011-10-08T22:52:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-26T21:39:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-15T19:52:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-04T22:54:00.000-07:00

There is No Lion at the Door

2011-08-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-21T18:47:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-18T11:26:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-18T11:23:00.001-07:00

Alice in Wonderland

2011-08-18T11:21:00.001-07:00

Upcoming Photo Shoot

2011-08-01T21:20:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-24T15:11:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-21T13:29:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-18T12:10:00.000-07:00

Just So Darn Goood Lookin'

2011-07-05T13:51:00.001-07:00

My Hand Slammed in the Door. Again.

2011-07-03T02:36:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-03T02:19:00.000-07:00

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

2011-06-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

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!

2011-06-14T22:12:00.000-07:00

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

2011-06-08T20:12:00.000-07:00

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

2011-06-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

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'

2011-05-23T14:43:00.000-07:00

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

2011-05-16T22:19:00.000-07:00

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

2011-05-02T19:33:00.000-07:00

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

The Paris with Peekaboo Shorts

2011-05-02T19:19:00.001-07:00

Venice Beach Bikini

2011-05-02T19:14:00.001-07:00

Looking Forward to Friday

2011-04-26T15:31:00.000-07:00

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

2011-04-20T14:57:00.000-07:00

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

2011-04-07T18:54:00.000-07:00

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

2011-03-28T20:16:00.000-07:00

**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"

2011-03-24T14:24:00.000-07:00

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

2011-03-16T15:20:00.001-07:00

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

2011-03-07T15:56:00.000-08:00

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

2011-03-01T16:58:00.001-08:00

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

2011-02-22T19:43:00.000-08:00

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

2011-02-16T16:29:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-02-16T16:19:00.000-08:00

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

2011-02-07T18:09:00.000-08:00

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

2011-01-31T17:43:00.000-08:00

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

2011-01-26T18:18:00.000-08:00

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

2011-01-17T02:41:00.000-08:00

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

2011-01-13T15:24:00.000-08:00

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!

2011-01-10T17:04:00.000-08:00

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.

Me and My Dirty Dirty Picture

2010-12-30T22:15:00.000-08:00

(This painting is similar to the photo, but with a drape over the backside)

Walmart. It's fast and easy. I can upload photos and swing by to pick them up in an hour. Quick and painless.

So when I stopped by the photo counter, I was surprised when I told the lady my name and she gave me this strange startled look, like she just burped and swallowed. She quickly turned in her nylon pants, leaving a swooshing sound as she scurried away to another co-worker in the corner. She whispered something in his ear and they both turned and silently stared in my direction.

Their eyes accusing......

Then I remembered.

"Shoot." I said as I nervously smiled at the employees huddled in the back.

They had discovered the picture.

"Play it cool", I told myself as I saw one of them pick up the phone and loudly announce that they needed the Manager in the photo area.

The Manager and the employees discussed for a moment, when he headed my way immediately starting to tilt his head and cross his arms, ready to give me a good verbal lashing.

I pictured myself leaning onto the counter with a cigarette dangling from the corner of my mouth as I casually ask "What seems to be the problem", just like a dangerous Maverick, not to be toyed with in a cavalier manner.

But I can already feel my face creeping into a fiery red.

"Mama. We don't print "those" type of pictures. We are a family store." He states darning me to challenge his authority.

I quickly come to my own defense, eagerly stating that the picture was a nude, but it was only the backside of a woman, with a drape across her backside. This was a family-friendly modest nude.

And Gosh Darn it was for the sake of art!"

He lets out a burst of air, breathing a slight onion aroma over the top of my head, as he pretends to ponder the situation. He rapidly turns and marches away, as I imagine his heels clicking, he meets back with the rest of the employees for a pow-wow.

The formed pack are examining the photo, while making animated gestures.

The verdict: "Mama, (the Mama word again) we have determined that this is an unsuitable print because the drape does not fully cover the line of the woman's bottom. I'm sorry but I cannot allow you to have this photo."

Summary: In other words....too much ass crack is showing.

I smile, knowing this was a no-win ordeal, and promising myself that I will install the printer as soon as I returned home.

I'll be damned if anyone is going to keep me from painting this picture, I cursed to myself. They allowed the scene in Titanic, so a painting should fly, as I pictured the Manager watching the movie and singing along. I just knew he loved it, Celine Dion and all.

My face was now a burning bright red and I felt like I had just tried to shoplift porn from the local video store and had been caught. The Manager said my pictures of barns and horses were okay and that I was free to go.

But never bring back my dirty, dirty pictures!

The Christmas Review

2010-12-28T18:29:00.000-08:00

I probably should not write this because I'm ornery as Hell, but it's been over a week since I have posted a blog, and my orneriness doesn't seem to be going away.....its lingering. And anything that lingers can't be good.

My biggest complaint at the moment is trying to find a job that will cover my bills since I was laid off two days before Christmas. Unemployment doesn't cut it. I know I will find something, but it's looking pretty sparse. Dammit.

Insert numerous "Bitch and Moans" here.

Overall Christmas was fabulous. And I do mean fabulous, I don't use that word for just anything. (Okay, yeah I do) It was the first Christmas that I didn't have to worry about a spouse breathing down my neck and whispering, "When are we leaving", and me replying, "We just got here!"

I was able to spend quality time with my family, doing the usual large extended party that involves all the relatives talking, but not really ever to each other? We had the usual spread of food-a few delightful Mormon delectables. Baked ham, funeral potatoes, chips, jello with whip cream, and "all out mayo" macaroni salad.

Then my immediate family had snacks and put a puzzle together on Christmas Eve. I would like to think that I helped put the puzzle together, but the overwhelming thought process gave me a headache and I seemed to be more interested in continuously eating.......

In the morning we went over to my sister Meg's and had omelets and watched my niece open all of her gifts. She's at the entertaining age of two, where all the gifts are just plain snazzy. A giant dollhouse mansion, a kitchen set-complete with a fridge and microwave, and last but not least, a Sparkle Fashion Barbie.

I've never had so much fun!

My niece started to have a melt down when she saw me coveting her toys. She snarled her teeth, shaking her tiny fists in my direction, her head violently shaking, as she screamed, "No Emily! Mine!" I quickly got the point and laid down the Sparkle Barbie.

Maybe next year I will get a Fashion Barbie (pink Corvette included). We'll see if I can be good.....

The Impending Road Trip

2010-12-15T09:16:00.000-08:00

Before every date I spend at least an hour primping.

Showering, shaving, blowing my hair out straight, makeup, and of course the perfect outfit. Then I'm ready to go!

I walk out the door and put on a show of perfection ( As I imagine). I smile and laugh at all his jokes, looking fabulous. I can only put on this charade for about two or so hours, more if required.

Then I go home, put the hair in a scrunchie, throw on my reindeer Christmas sweats, and pull out the ice cream in full force-the salad at dinner just didn't cut it.

My charade has proven effective because I've been dating a very nice gentleman for about a month now.

So far so good.

He's quiet (I'm loud) and takes me out to dinner (I like food). He's already met my friends and heard all about my crazy family. CRAZY. He thinks I'm beautiful.

He steady and secure, which entails owning a house and having a job. A rare combo.

So "Dan" asked me to go on a mini break to Yosemite Park this next week. My mind starts to race. A ten hour drive to California. How will I maintain my illusion of perfection. I'm sure I will fall asleep with a half eaten hamburger in my lap and my head will fall back and let out a few loud snorts as I sleep.

He will see everything.

All my quirky habits and feisty temper.

This road trip will be the true test. I had to initially clear that there would be no camping of any kind and assured no animal will eat me on this adventure.

Who knows he may leave my ass on Highway Whatever. Is it bad I don't know how to get to California?

I do know the general direction......

Time to stop panicking and start packing......yes.....a week in advance!

Another Finished Painting

2010-12-07T11:32:00.000-08:00

Hello Everyone! I thought I would share with you another finished painting. This one seemed to just paint itself. I used a rag to wipe away the color in the grass, so you can see the canvas through the paint. I like the contrast of orange and blue. December has been very busy with life and work. I'm excited for all the holiday parties and spending time with friends and family.

Single Woman Needs a Good Home

2010-11-30T20:05:00.000-08:00

The ad would read something like this:

Single Woman Needs a Good Home
Special needs: expensive dental work
Needs affection and attention
Long walks in the park

I was at the dentist yesterday and by the end of my visit I wanted to beg any man to take care of me.

I wanted an easy way out.

No more sweating and quickly calculating my checking account to cover the costs.

Sometimes its too damn hard and expensive to be a single gal.

I feel that I now am starting to understand why women have to become "Gold Diggers". They have bills to pay, car repairs, health care, and any other crisis that might blow their way.

I nearly hissed at my dentist as he explained the costs for a cleaning, exam, xrays, and to replace an old filling. Without dental insurance: A cool four hundred dollars.

Sure! I said, as I dug through my pocket and produced a ball of lint. Then I asked if it was possible to buy a do-it-yourself dental book at Barnes and Noble to save on costs.

He smiled and a shallow laugh escaped from his throat.

I tried to calm my quickly beating heart by repeating to myself, "At least I will have my teeth when I am 75".

But it didn't suffice. My panic resumed.

So when short on cash the best way to fight fire is with fire.

I went shopping!

The five dollar shirt made my eyes look extra blue.

A five dollar shirt to forget about a four hundred dollar dental bill.

When all else fails.

Rationalize.

Graditude

2010-11-24T13:31:00.001-08:00

Typing at the computer, the snow frantically starts to blow outside the window. It was the perfect time to stay warm inside and finish my list of "to do's". I intensely stared at the important e-mail I was constructing. The wording had to be just write so it wasn't taken as too harsh or too soft....it had to be just right.

As I concentrated my nephew bust into the room and went to jump on the bed, missing it by two inches and slamming his forehead into the corner of the rocking chair. Howls and screams soon followed. I jumped out of my seat and let out a sigh of relief as I discovered lack of any blood. Just a nice solid bruise. Ouch.

Then I sat down again and started to find where I left off, when my other nephew stood by the window laughing. I looked at what he was holding in his tiny hand and slowly realized he was holding the garage remote. My father was screaming outside in the blizzard for someone to snatch it from my nephew. I had to laugh because every time my father approached the garage door to shelter heavy potted plants inside, my nephew would quickly push the close button.

It only took my father fifteen minutes or so to figure it out and then the jig was up. But my nephew sure enjoyed the torment.

Finding that I could not work with all the distractions, I stopped working. Why was I trying to work? My family was in town and it was a rare chance to spend time with my nephews. How quickly they are growing and changing. Soon they will no longer be interested in spending time with "Auntie Em" and the rest of the family as they reach the age of preteen angst.

I may not have a family of my own one day and so I realize this may be my closest chance to experiencing children.

I look at my siblings' families, and I admit that I am envious. They may scoff at my envy as my sister once again cleans poop off the rug, because her son doesn't seem to enjoy using a toilet.

The rug is more convenient.

They seem happy, secure, and they have each other. One does not realize what a rarity it is to have a "normal" loving family.

I'm grateful for my friends and family.

Relationships and memories are the only things we take with us when we die. It's the most important thing. Be kind to the poeple that care about you. Remember this holiday season to be in the moment and enjoy any precious time with family and friends.

Tomorrow it may all be gone and changed, but we have now. Embrace it.

All You Can Eat Sushi

2010-11-17T13:39:00.000-08:00

“Anyone who accepts a date with a gynecologist gets what they are asking for.” My sister teased just before I took off for my date.

So far I was interested. He was well dressed, offered to pick me up, took me to a nice restaurant -he was an intelligent doctor.

We went to sit down for sushi and he started to argue with the hostess about our table. At first I thought it could be charming, that he wanted the best seat for our date, but after relentlessly grilling the hostess and then loudly complaining to the surrounding tables, I started to feel like it was already time to go.

We ordered a few rolls and started to talk about our schooling. He filled me in on his education and the different clients he sees everyday. Telling me that the worst thing about being a doctor- is hair and bad...well...and I will spare you the details. All while I was ironically eating my “sushi”.

He asked about my background and I told him about my family and education and mentioned that I was divorced. He stopped me there and firmly stated.

“Let’s not talk about past relationships.”

I was getting irritated. I don’t like when a person tells me what I can and cannot discuss. I was polite and kept quite. Continued eating sushi….

Basically: I can narrow the date down to a few sentences.

“If you are good I will give you a free pelvic exam, with the breast exam included.”

“Don’t worry. When you get closer to 38 just come in and I can freeze your eggs.”

And the last but not the least favorite.

“My wife lives in Providence, and I don’t get out much, so I thought we could have some fun. “

I’m still trying to figure out how to end a bad date.

If I had the courage, pick up a glass of water and dump it over his head. But I’m still polite and don’t want to hurt any feelings. So, do you just sit and wait it out only to have it get worse when they try to put the moves on you? Or do I need to be more proactive and be really selective with who I say yes to for a date?

Why is it that when you accept a date a man automatically assumes he’s all set. She said yes, so she must like me, and wants to sleep with me. I thought dating was to see if you liked each other? Not an automatic in.

Oh well, another day another date.

Another Painting I'm Working On....

2010-11-10T12:33:00.000-08:00

Sometimes in life it's hard to find time to do everything you want to do, luckily I have been finding time to paint more. I took this picture of a little girl during my nephews birthday party. Her expression is priceless because she refused to smile for the camera but stood very still and shriveled up her nose and pouted. She did not want her picture taken because she had spilled food down the front of her shirt.

This painting with the brown is called the "under painting" and it provides me a map of where to put the color, so all my drawing is done, I just have to think about the color and that's it! I usually like to draw it all in and step away from it for awhile, just so I can look at the piece with fresh eyes and see if the proportions are correct. As you can see in this picture the legs are too small, so they need to be reworked.

I will post a picture when it's finished.....

You Can Do It! A Sneak Peak....

2010-11-03T12:26:00.000-07:00

Here's a sneak peek at one of the prototypes or construction swimsuits. It's been slow going and many changes have been made to get it to this point. The suits are so close to being ready for production. Some days it's hard not to get impatient and frustrated.

I'd like to think that I am a tough person. That I have all these redeeming qualities, but unfortunately I am human. I need to remember that and I need to remember that other people are human as well. Trying to manufacture my swimwear designs is proving to be challenging, not necessarily with the process, but in dealing with each unique individual.

Assumptions are bad, and I've come into this project with many. I assumed that because you have paid someone they would finish the job with perfect craftsmanship and on time. I'm learning that's not the case and my job isn't to just fix problems but to motivate and inspire. I have to look at each individual and see how we can best work together and then adapt into more of that person to help them do their job, all the while maintaining my boundaries and needs.

It's complicated and a mean bag of tricky!

I'm learning to set expectations and deadlines, but then find ways to help them meet these expectations, either by playing what I like to call "Good cop, bad cop" which encourages, then has to be assertive, and then encouraging again.

I am the cheerleader. Outfit, flips, and all.

The guy at Starbucks took pity on me and my frustration, handing me a free drink while telling me "Have faith in the God in people. "

Not sure what that meant, but maybe I need to find a different way to help the people helping me get where we need to go.

Finish the suits! You can do it! I shout, cheering them on.....it's almost there...

Then onto sizing and production we go! Starting with new challenges, which I hope to enter with a positive, open mind of possiblity and hope.

Freddy Krueger Pays a Visit

2010-11-01T11:19:00.000-07:00

Waiting in line, we could see our breath as we shivered in our skimpy costumes. (I guess my idea of a skimpy costume is not having a jacket.) Cresta, was a sexy cop in fishnet tights, Sean was little Red Riding Hood, and I was Satan. Or the devil, with a red tail pinned to my jeans and ears pinned in my red hair. My friends said I was the perfect devil, I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not?

We finally made it inside to see an array of dancing characters. The music pounded and lights flashed as we danced. It was hard to tell if you actually liked the guy you were dancing with because they were disguised so well. Others, no so well, in tight shorts and shirts off, supposedly trying to be a partially naked Rambo? You had to give them credit for being confident enough not to wear enough, if almost anything. Halloween is the only time you can validate going out of the house in hardly next to nothing. The people on the dance floor were taking full advantage of the opportunity.

I was dancing (badly) with my friends when Freddy Krueger came up from behind, I turned and came face to face with a large bloody mask and sweaty body. With a muffled voice he barked out that he wanted my number. It's hard to want to give someone your digits when they are dressed as a movie serial killer....not so much.

I did give my number to a cute New Yorker, dressed nicely in a button up shirt, a rarity in Utah, and glasses. He looked Jewish, but to my disappointment he wasn't, oh well. But then he started to crack terrible jokes. Apparently he is a gynecologist. Could I date a gynecologist with bad doctor jokes? I will have to ponder that one later.....

The night ended as we watched people getting arrested for public intoxication. Their drunken bodies getting tossed in the back of police cars like rag dolls.

Then I saw him....."Freddy" was being tossed in the back of a car, masked removed.

I sighed in relief, shivering in the cold and saying to myself, "Thank God I didn't give him my number."

A Creative Escape for a Rainy Day

2010-10-25T13:09:00.000-07:00

Turning off my cellphone, neglecting e-mails, ignoring unopened mail, I turn on the stereo and lights, while grabbing ingredients from the cupboard.

Butter, more butter, brown sugar, flour. And chocolate.

All ingredients mixed to make chocolate chip cookies. Need I say more?

It's raining outside and what better way to spend the day then to huddle inside with a warm steaming oven and the smell of melting chocolate wafting in the air, a glass of wine (or wine cooler, a cheaper version, but still effective) and French music softly cooing in the background.

Baking is a form of creativity and helps to get me in the mood to paint. It frees the mind of all distractions and worries.

Putting you in the moment. All senses connected.

Concentrating on one ingredient at a time. Mixing, folding, spreading melted butter onto each baking sheet.

Feeling spontaneous, I add a touch of almond extract and honey, letting the liquid drip onto the side of the dish, running into the thick batch of dough below....let's see what happens...how it sweetens the cookies.

I save what I like to call my "secret cookie technique" for very last, which ensures each bite has oozing amounts of dark chocolate melted into milk chocolate.

A silky combination.

The plan is to pile a plate of warm cookies and go into my studio, and start mixing colors on my palette.

Swirling white and crimson red to make a vibrant skin colored pink.

My brush will lightly flutter from piece to piece, laying down a layer of paint. One canvas is of a little girl in a multi-colored skirt with a pouting smirk on her face, while a new piece is of two girls on a bright purple scooter.

Color. I could swim in it.

It's days like this, that I can escape all the distractions of my life and lose myself in the quiet creative corner of my mind.

And with each bite of cookie any tension just.......melts away.

The Tedious Things

2010-10-13T16:59:00.001-07:00

It happens just when you are about to fall asleep, you hear a slight buzz in one ear. I'm thinking....

"It's Fall there aren't any mosquitoes." But then I hear it again.

I jump up this time, madly searching for the culprit.

"There it is!" I shout out loud to myself, as I see it's slight body tapping against the corner of the room.

I stretch to reach it. "Damn I'm not tall enough," I whisper, still stretching my short arms in the air.

The chase ensues for about an hour.

Sneaky little bugger.

But at last I capture it's body in an old t-shirt. Problem solved.

After finally falling asleep I wake up to the sunlight coming through my window. I'm in a pleasant mood and I hum to myself as I take a hot shower.

As I put my favorite sexy bra on I notice that one boob is hanging lower than the other. I realize the boob is not doing so well because I lost an under wire in the right cup. I'm stubborn and unbelievably cheap, so I refuse to toss it out. I come to terms with having a lower right boob. No one will notice. Or I guess just the guy at Blockbuster, who is always taking numerous darting boob glances. He will notice since he's done numerous inspections.

"Oh well. Life goes on." I say to myself again.

Still in a slightly fabulous mood, I apply my new concealer only to realize that "fair" is not fair enough. So I decide to take on the task of going back to Wal-Mart, one of my favorite places, and get a different color. This time I will get translucent. Apparently I have no skin pigmentation.

As I go to get in my car, I glance in horror as my eyes freeze upon the front of my car.

I curse and scream. "Where the Hell is the front of my car! "

I had completely forgotten that a large piece of Sh*@ took out the front bumper as I was driving home last night.

To make myself feel better I vowed to find the piece of sh&*, Google how to trace finger prints, take the prints to the police, who will casually give me the person's address, then track down this person that kindly left this piece of sh#@ in the road!

This absurd lie makes me feel temporarily better.

It's days like this where I wished I smoked or had some bad habit to alleviate my growing irritation. But then I come home, put on my comfy gym shorts, open a bag of any type of chocolate containing goodie, and pop in a comedy to watch.

Then all seems right as rain.

That is until I attempt to sleep again and I hear that slight buzz in my ear.

The Wild West

2010-10-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

I was feeling a little stir crazy this past weekend, so I figured, why not drive to Colorado? I have been talking with a gentleman that lives there for the past six months. We always toyed with the idea of finally meeting each other. I was sick of waiting and I was curious to actually meet. His pictures on facebook displayed a solid six pack which helped in my decision making process. So I put on a diaper and drove straight through the seven hour drive. (a discreet joke for those of you that know the astronaut story).

Part of living at home, is that everyone knows where you are at any given moment. So I knew when I announced that I was taking off for Colorado I would create a shit storm of questions. I was in mid discussion with my mother, when my grandmother came over, and then my sister, and then my brother and his wife. All starring at me wanting to know why I was driving to Colorado.

How do I look my family in the eye and tell them, I'm driving all that way to check out this new food place that serves chicken wings?

He looked exactly how I pictured him; tousled hair, sly smile, blue jeans, and a tight white t-shirt. Cowboy confidence.

My family, especially my mother, were concerned about me meeting some unknown cowboy in the middle of Colorado. I was relentlessly grilled on all his vitals. They were worried that my body would later be found in the woods, murdered.

They always have a way of sucking the romance out.

He made me feel comfortable in his home. It was clean, shiny and new. Not a scary hoarder and bodies in the closet as my family had warned. He actually cooked me dinner and gave me a tour of his.....tiny town..... with it's cute old fashioned buildings. I had a good time....but.....

He had a few yellow flags.

Here's the variations of flag warnings-or the levels.

Red Card: Do not continue contact. Psycho, smokes, doesn't want children.

Red Flag-serious deal breaker, which takes some serious consideration to continue the relationship (nasty temper, mean to people, bad hygiene, no job, etc.)

Yellow Flag-A concern, a small annoyance to take note to form the whole picture ( drives fast, curses too much, doesn't floss, etc.)

We will see with time if this cowboy's yellow flags turn into red flags. It's his turn to take the seven hour drive.

The Shirt Pocket

2010-10-05T15:18:00.000-07:00

When does slightly strange become too strange? I usually shrug must people off when they come into the gallery and may seem to have a few quirks, but what happens when they don't just pop into browse but have now made it a regular visit?

A gentleman has started to make the gallery his home. He seems to have appeared for no reason, like he blew in with the wind. Now he comes in three times a day and never seems to have the desire to leave. Or any sort of a home or schedule.

Besides talking your ear off, he loves to show people a newspaper clipping in his shirt pocket.

He slides it out and whispers, "I keep it close to my heart."

Ssstrange!

This is not just any clipping, but a picture of a very young violinist for the Utah Symphony. I wonder if she has any idea that he carries it around? Maybe it's best to remain in the dark?

I can understand liking a celebrity and starting a blog, but hey, even I don't carry Stanley's picture in my pocket. If I start, I pray my family has an intervention.

I just hope one day he doesn't slide out the clipping and I glimpse that the girl has been replaced by my face.

The Sexcapades!

2010-09-26T13:12:00.000-07:00

It's Autumn in New York City and I started to get the sense that it was also mating season.

I began to be enlightened as I was waiting on the sidewalk to meet a friend for lunch, an impeccably dressed businessman approached, grinning. He strolled passed and then paused and turned around as if he had something important to share with me.

"Hi!" He confidently stated, " You are my dream girl. I want to totally bend you over. If you would like to F*&$ please give me a call," and handed me his card. And with that he quickly turned and briskly walked away.

Speechless, I starred after him holding his card. Feeling offended, confused, and mortified. Was I wearing something provocative? No. I had a plaid shirt and jeans on. Strange. I also wondered if his approach ever worked?!

I chalked up the experience to a random event and decided to just meet my friend over at his apartment. As I was navigating my way, a few construction workers started to scream obscene things at me. Again, I was completely puzzled as to what would provoke such a reaction. I hadn't put on my pheromone perfume today? Hmmm?

My friend "Frank" was waiting outside and greeted me with a friendly smile. We hugged and patted backs. It had been awhile since we had seen each other and we had only met once. I used to date his best friend and we had met when his friend flew me to New York for a weekend. I sent "Frank" a text to let him know I would be in town and he offered to show me around and be my guide. Not knowing the city, I eagerly accepted.

We headed towards Broadway as he explained the lay out of Manhattan. He pointed to all the highlights as we tried to make our way through the hordes of people. It was fashion week, so many of them were towering women in spiked heels, with eccentric makeup, which all reminded me of what a modern day Geisha would look like.

We eventually made our way to Bryant Park, which is in the heart of the city. Trees lined the sidewalks and lush vegetation spilled over planters, as couples lounged in chairs reading newspapers and sipping drinks. We joined the midst of bodies, with our ice cold beers.

The conversation never seemed to wane as he had so much to tell me about living in the city, he also told me more about my past boyfriend and the long divorce he was still facing. We chatted until the sunlight started to fade and I remembered I was meeting another friend of a friend for dinner.

As he walked me back to my street, he suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into a dark secluded bar and started to kiss my neck. I laughed in surprise and at his spontaneity, but pulled away because he was still the friend of my last boyfriend. He assured me that no one would get hurt and that if we kept it all between us-his friend, and "Franks" wife would never find out.

What? His wife? "Frank" was married?

Nervously I laughed, trying to make light of the situation, while my mind flashed back to the memory of dating his friend, who told me he was divorced, but was actually still married as well. Not again.

"I need to head back to my apartment and meet some friends for dinner." I said, trying to make him believe my excuse to escape.

He casually threw out an idea "Why don't we head back to my apartment and you could give me a blow job." He smoothly stated.

"No." I firmly spouted. Quickly losing my sense of humor.

He again insisted and started to throw some sort of tantrum with his hands.

I waved goodbye and pratically ran away. He acted like his wife and sex were as meaningless and casual as getting a cup of coffee.

New York seems to be a place where every one's sexual lifestyle is open for public or private viewing. What's usually kept behind closed doors and in the bedroom seems to be out in the open morning, noon, and night in this city. The City that never sleeps.

Are you Serious!?

2010-09-23T14:06:00.000-07:00

"NEW YORK - SEPTEMBER 15: Actor Stanley Tucci is seen around Lincoln Center during Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week on September 15, 2010 in New York City."

Where was I??? I was just four blocks away in my apartment! I thought about going to check out the fashion scene and just hang around outside, but I knew it would be a mad house, so I opted for a burrito and a movie. Great! Just great! My one chance to spot Stanley and I missed it. Lol! And if I did see him, what would I do? I guess just stare like a crazy stalker person?

A Lazy Afternoon

2010-09-21T09:46:00.000-07:00

I'm about to head out the door again to stroll Central Park one last time before I head back to Utah. New York is teaming with people all going about their daily lives. It's amazing in a city full of millions one can still feel so alone. I'm trying to block out that this time last year my husband ended our marriage. I've moved on and keep trying to put time and miles between my old life and me, but sometimes the grief comes creeping back. I mourn the loss of the hope of unconditional love and trust. That if I do find someone I care about in the future that they too won't one day wake up and find me "human".

I watch a couple lay in the shade. The man is leaning over and gently pushing the woman's hair behind her ear. An intimate moment between the two and they seem so in love. I ponder if it's a new relationship and if it will quickly pass with the season.

Breathe. Savor the moment. I focus my thoughts, taking in the beautiful surroundings. I'm excited to meet my new friend for a picnic. I sit and wait on a park bench and I know he'll come around the corner with his dimpled smile and say hi with his slight Queens accent.

Today may have been the end of my marriage last year, but the present is a gift, a fresh start in a new direction. It just doesn't get any better than laying in the park on an autumn day. And maybe my new friend will push my hair behind my ear and for the moment we can pretend we are that couple in love.

I Might Have Been Eaten Alive?

2010-09-14T04:17:00.000-07:00

The sun is coming up and reflecting off the brick walls of my New York apartment. I can hear the swarms of pigeons perched outside my window, as my head is starting to clear. Everything is coming into focus-slowly.

I'm trying to remember last night. Swearing to my self once again that I will never drink again, embarrassed to admit that I was overcome with just two drinks.

My girl friend and I went out, on a Monday night, for a few cocktails and socializing. We met some fascinating people.

Now I'm awake and greeted by a very good looking Jamaican in my shorts. Oh boy......I'll let you know when I figure it out....later.

I'm going back to bed.

I'm in New York-Need I Say More?!

2010-09-13T06:20:00.001-07:00

Excited to be back in New York and exploring the city on my own. As many of you know, last time I came with a wonderful gentleman friend, who turned out to be married. One same very important detail that he forgot to mention.

This morning I think I am going to set out for some food, and not just any old food will do. I'm going to take the train from the Upper West Side (I think I am getting the terms down) and ride to the lower east side or below East Houston. It all sounds good in theory, but then I stop out onto the street and can't tell my right from my left or my east from my west. Shoot! I'm already starving...so the pressure is on!

I went to the neighborhood grocery store last night and was getting my nutritious meal of Frito's and Reese's Pieces when a bunch of guys started making weird throat noises and nudging each other. I worried I had a large bat in my cave or my fly was undone. Then I realized they just liked a redhead. Nice that they showed so much enthusiasm for Clairol #6 in True Red.

I'll keep you posted on my New York adventures this week.....should make for some interesting stories....hopefully not too interesting....for my sake.

A Caribbean Paradise

2010-08-30T11:34:00.000-07:00

Being from a "Jack Mormon" family I truly know what it means to travel "Mormon Style". A style that tries to maximize everything while trying to be cheap as Hell.

Cheap as Hell Mormon style has a few rules to follow:

1-Do not eat at any place over ten dollars per person.

2-Try to split any meal with at least two other people.

3-When staying in a hotel try to fit at least 3 to 4 people in one room.

4-If a grocery store and kitchen are available, buy all canned food as cheaply as possible. Preferably something with cream in it. (Mormons love cream; cream of chicken, cream of mushroom-well you get the point)

Keeping all this in mind, all thirteen of us (I probably forgot someone or added an extra person) we traveled to Puerto Rico. Our first excursion was hiking the rain forest and swimming in pools with a tumbling waterfall. My dad always manages to hurt himself in one way or another. This time he jumped around in the pool with genuine glee with all the other children and somehow smashed his chest on a sharp rock. He didn't seem too happy after that, his smile rapidly faded and his chest was a crimson red. It looked painful.

After exiting the rain forest and with a wet swimsuit, one of my favorite things to walk around in, we crammed into a small plane and like a mosquito, buzzed over to Vieques island. As we took off, my sister-in-law started screaming. I'm not sure if it was because of the fear of flying or knowing she would be trapped on the island with my entire family for a week?

Arriving at the rented house I noticed a towering fence and barb wire around it. I wondered why the wire was pointing in rather than out.....was it trying to keep people in?

I still like to fondly refer to the house as the "Sanders Family Compound" where people can get in , but they can't get out. Maybe my sister had tricked us into thinking this was a vacation, but really she had checked us all into a loony bin?

With good behavior, we had outdoor time on the beach. Playing in the surf, finding shells, and snorkeling.

I'm afraid to get to close to any sea life. It can either bite, sting, or possibly eat you. None of which I would think I would enjoy. Seeing a sting-ray was amazing. but did nothing to reassure my nerves. No one could hear my panicked screams through my snorkel. What good is screaming if you can't get a reaction?

When visualizing a Caribbean paradise one pictures clear sapphire water and sandy tropical beaches. Imagationing perfection. But I bet they left out the mosquitoes.

Mosquitoes are the enemy. Dousing my body with spray, and I'm not talking about the wimpy stuff, but the Deet birth-defect causing stuff, the mosquitoes would still swarm, refusing to leave any inch of my virgin skin unmarked. At times I could feel my body growing weak as they sucked the life out of me, I would open my mouth to cry out in desperation, and would suck their tiny bodies into my lungs. I was pissed and I mean pissed. I was determined not to let these bastards get me down. It was war.

Using all my brain power to out think them, I again hosed my body down with spray, camouflaged my skin with pants, a high neck jacket, and sprayed over the top of my armor, never minding that it was sweltering outside. At one point I broke down and cried...they were still everywhere, their nests lodged into each pocket of damp grass. I howled and flapped my arms, as other tourists curiously watched my exorcism freak show.

I managed to come away from the trip with at least sixty-five bites on just my two legs. Megan, my sister said, "You look like Quazimoto, but your face will probably heal normally after a few weeks."

I smiled weakly at her encouraging words, one eye swollen and two fresh bumps forming on my cheek.

Funny on a family vacation how you want to spend time with each other at the start but by the end you can't wait to get away. You decide you need a vacation from a vacation.

Those who know me, know that I have to find the sarcasm in every story, but this was a beautiful trip and irreplaceable time with my family. I feel so grateful to be able to see my niece and nephews play in the ocean. They grow up so fast, while we grow older. It's the moments like these that make life happy and make us forget all the hardships-divorce, mosquitoes, and whatever "stuff" comes our way.

The Strange Pervert in the Corner

2010-08-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

Learning to be single and alone can be tough. It takes some readjusting. I thought I was well on my way to mastering "aloneness" by having taken myself out to dinner without pretending to be reading or texting. I could eat alone and just eat.

Then I discovered that being alone in Vegas is a whole different ball game.

Wondering around the casinos I noticed that everyone was either in a couple or a group. It was Junior High all over again. I was the odd woman out.

I would get inquisitive stares. It was like a lone man wondering around a park full of children, people can't help but think he might be a pervert. I felt that being single and alone in Vegas stirred the same reaction. What would someone be doing in Vegas by themselves?

When sitting down for dinner the host always puts me in some dark corner, probably so I would not be embarrassed by my "aloneness". I feel like I should be wearing a hoodie and dark sun glasses, a cigarette dangling from my lips. Like a "Strange Pervert in the Corner."

Strolling through Caesar's Palace I discovered I was the perfect target for people selling stuff along the Colosseum shops. One salesman was so persistent I agreed to try the latest lotion claiming to make my skin look younger.

Smiling, he gently applied the lotion to my arm and nonchalantly mentioned in a foreign accent. "I would like to rub this lotion all over your body."

I smiled and wormed my arm away. Giggling nervously, I said I had a reservation and scurried off. He shouted after me to come back after dinner so we could continue, which I could only imagine what exactly that would entail.

Eating at Sushi Roku I could see from my table the "Lotion Man" trying to reel in other people. I noticed there was no way around him and my only escape would be walking past his booth.

I desperately schemed how I would pass him without grabbing his attention again. I noticed an exit just outside of the restaurant and slightly to the right. If I stuck close to the wall I could slip away undetected.

Finishing the last few bites of sushi and paying the bill, I dashed to my escape. Sticking to the wall as planned, I was just about to the exit, when my foot slipped.

I was falling forward.

"Shit", I loudly exclaimed.

I hit the ground hard.

My body slapping the floor echoed through the mall. Blank faces turned to gaze in my direction. I cursed myself for not seeing the steps.

I had been spotted.

Trying to regain my composure, I nodded to "Lotion Man" and continued out the door. So much for slipping away undetected.

Maybe I'm not as comfortable eating alone as I believed. And maybe not my eating alone had earned me the title of "Strange Pervert in the Corner", but my actions of an awkward escape?

The Vegas Result

2010-08-21T11:22:00.000-07:00

After driving six hours, or maybe it was seven, (I think I blacked out the time from boredom), I arrived in Las Vegas. The streets were packed with people walking the strip looking for the latest form of entertainment.

This excursion is what I like to refer to as my "big girl" trip. It would be my first vacation alone along with my very own hotel room. Usually I share with my girlfriends all cramming into one full size bed and splitting up time hogging the bathroom. This time there would be no one to help me with directions, tell me where I needed to be, and what to see or do. I was on my own. Time to be a "big girl".

The lobby of the Monte Carlo was bustling as I checked in. I went straight to my room to change. I was mixing business with pleasure, by attending the Magic Show, one of the country's largest fashion conventions. I had surmised that this would be a good networking opportunity and a way to gain exposure for my swimsuit line, so I wanted to arrive looking refreshed and stylish.

Two hours later, with every hair in place, my purple polka dot dress on, and trading in my sneakers for a pair of elegant high-heels, I set out for the convention. No worries, I thought, a taxi would save my feet. But then I discovered a taxi would cost fifteen bucks each way. "No way!", I said to myself. I'll tough it out by walking across the street to the tram and riding it over to the convention center. Brilliant plan.

Three large blisters later, feet throbbing, I was still walking around the MGM cursing to myself.

"Where is the God damn tram, and how the Hell do I get out of this casino?!" I whispered under my breath.

Reaching the lobby doors I signed in relief as I saw a taxi glistening in the sun. It was like a mirage, and I eagerly paid the fifteen dollars.

Arriving at the convention I tried to put on a pleasant smile as I grimaced through the pain of my aching feet. I handed out my business cards and introduced myself to numerous people. I was starting to look like one of the people on the street handing out girlie flyers.

Later that night my phone started to beep with text messages.

Yes! My hard work had paid off! People were calling to set up business dinners to see my designs.

Looking through the messages, I stared in shock, my eyes glued in horror to the phone.

There wasn't any appointments, but pictures of nude men!

Quickly, I shut my phone, shaking my head in disgust. Who would send such things? But I did have to give them credit for being smart enough not to include their faces.

The first day of the convention and I had ended up with blisters on my feet and a bunch of nudey pictures. Great! Just great!

The High Life

2010-07-29T18:41:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought no prospective dates were on the horizon, I met a gentleman (We'll call him "Bob") at Market Street Grill in Salt Lake. I was dining with my girlfriends, when I went to the bar to ask for change. He casually complimented me on my red hair and I smiled and gave a polite nod.

He seemed too old for me, so I brushed him off. "Bob" was persistent.

He shot out a barrage of questions. I laughed and decided, why not? Come to find out he was really intelligent and well-spoken. He spoke about the art world fluently and loved to travel-all my similar interests. Refreshing. So I gave him my number and returned to my friends, who probably thought I had deserted them.

Bob called the next day, which happened to be a Saturday and wanted to know if I would join him for drinks at Waldorf Astoria Spa and then a concert at the Canyons in Park City. It was hot outside and the pool/ alcholol was too good to pass up. And I wanted to know more about him-Bob was intriguing.

As I rushed from work to my car, I noticed a red spray on my windshield. I paused in alarm. Was that blood? I cautiously approached my car. It was in the inside! I immediately opened the door to see all the crimson red on the dashboard, the windshield, the stick shift, and a pool of red in the passenger seat.

It wasn't blood, but my cherry Dr. Pepper.

It had exploded in a rage about being left in a hot car. I thought the caffeine pick me up would be nice for later...but not this way. Realizing I was going to be late for my date, I figured I would deal with this fiasco later.

My tires screamed into the parking lot of the Waldorf. Bob had instructed me to just valet park. Engrossed in my latest rap CD, yes rap, I glanced over to reality.

My red reality. Oh no!

These valets are going to think I killed a small animal in my car. The only solution was to act casual-maybe they would not notice, or I could put my McDonalds trash over the puddle.

Yes! That would do! High class all the way.

Bob was waiting in the spa entry and smoothly greeted me.

The spa was clean, quiet, and cool. The director gave us a tour and I admired the live plants growing on the walls mixed with the smooth counter tops and soft white cushioned couches. Perfectly placed on the counters were hard back books of architecture, modern art, and other affluent topics. I thought to myself, I could just stay here for awhile and never leave....my new home.

In the ladies locker room I wondered around sniffing the free bottles of deodorant, shampoo, lotion, and assorted toiletries.

This locker room seemed too nice. I didn't want to take my clothes off.

Just as I was taking my swimsuit out of my grocery store plastic bag-my way of recycling, the spa attendant walked in.

She stared for a moment and gave me this....smile.

She continued her forced smile as she explained there was a fee for using the spa.

I laughed and said, "No worries, I'm with a member. "

She smiled again, this time firmly folding her arms.

She asked, "Under what name are they listed?"

I nervously laughed again and realized I had completely forgotten my dates name. Shoot!

I frantically laughed again, worrying she would pick me up and toss me out, plastic bag and all.

Then I confidently said "Bob Idol". She nodded and quickly left. I thought Good! Go check! I'm on the list! Big stinker.

After a few minutes and successfully putting on my swimsuit, the attendant came back. Same forced smile to report that I was indeed on the list. Ha! I gave my own forced smile. She demostrated how to use the locker and explained how to get to the pool.

I noticed a white robe in the locker and asked, "Do I wear that out to the pool?"

She smiled. Again. "No, that's for people getting treatments. "

I walked through the empty carpeted corridor towards the gleaming afternoon sun coming through the exit.

As the door swung open, to my horror I saw everyone enjoying their afternoon cocktails.

All in white robes.

In all my glory I stood in my suit for everyone to behold, with a knee-jerk reaction to suck in my stomach, and a strong pang of regret about the burrito I had eaten earlier.

I had two choices: scurry quickly by acknowledging my shame, or act like my lack of robe was intentional.

It was go time.

I chose to "rock it". I walked out and right to my smiling date. Who laughed and quickly asked "Where is your robe". Oh I didn't feel I needed one. Damn that spa attendant.

We laughed by the pool drinking raspberry mojitos and talking about all the places he had traveled. he asked me if I wanted to be his "bond girl" and travel with him. Tempting. I could just leave my life and toss all care to the wind. Then what? When he tired of me being his bond girl, what future would I have? Complete dependence-not an option. I had that happened before and was thrown out on my ass. Never again.

As we left the retreat of the spa for dinner on Main Street Bob asked if I wanted to drive because he hated driving at night. I nodded, but then quickly remembered the murder scene in my car. Let's take your car this time. And smiled. The forced smile.

Dinner was a dream. A cool breeze came off the mountain as we ate shrimp skewers on the balcony and talked about his childhood. He asked about mine and somehow the topic came up about my living at home. Bob seemed to have eaten a bad piece of shrimp because he grew quiet and asked for the check. I had become the "Skateboarding" girl.

I swore I heard Bob's tires squeal as he left me standing back at the hotel.

For an instant I felt disgusted with myself. What was my problem? A thirty-one year old back home with her parents.

Then I got angry. No one will ever judge me again. It is my choice. My decision only. I felt a way of guilt when I realized that I had judged the "skateboarding" guy. Karma is a bitch.

I'm happy spending time with my parents again. If you are happy where you are, that's all that matters. A person that really cares for me won't care what I do for a living, where I live, or what I drive....cherry Dr. Pepper and all.

I don't need the high life. Just my life.

The Text Break Up

2010-07-22T13:56:00.000-07:00

I received this exact text yesterday.

"I can take a hint. I'm out! Take care."

I was shocked to hear my phone beep and be greeted with this defiant message. Instantly offended I became angry that he would not even bother to call. Then I thought, wait....

Were we EVEN dating?

We met online through E Harmony and met over lunch at Jason's Deli. We had chatted on the phone several times from there and then he Facebook friended me. Soon after we grabbed a beer at a bar. We laughed and talked late into the night. Afterwards he walked me to my car and gave me a peck good night.

Then he called a few days after...and well, maybe that's where I became "The Asshole". I didn't return his phone call. I forgot. I was busy with work, art, starting up my business...yadda, yadda. Blah. Blah. You know the usual excuse drill.

Then I get this text. Is he being over dramatic or am I truly "The Asshole" for not returning his call. One ball dropped and I'm out-or he is.

I've been out of the dating scene for awhile and I was told by a bunch of twenty-somethings at a "Glitter Toe" party (a bunch of women get together and paint their toes) that I was indeed "The Asshole" for not immediately returning his call. In this day and age we have all these time frames to answer face book comments, calls, e-mails, and texts. I can't keep up!

I guess if one missed call means I'm out of this non-relationship, so be it. I just drove myself down to Starbucks for an iced-chai and now everything is right as rain.

Skating into the Couch Condition

2010-07-17T15:11:00.000-07:00

Running late, I dashed into the local coffee shop to meet "Jay", who I had picked up earlier in the week at the art supply store. "Jay" was sensual, the typical artist stereotype; romantic, slightly tormented, and brooding. I loudly explained to the Barista, " I need a sandwich without onions in case I get lucky." Laughing at my own joke, she quickly got the jest and snickered.

We intensely searched the menu, settling on turkey and cheese-a safe bet.

Unfortunately I didn't see my date in the corner, overhearing the whole conversation. Ouch...that may have hurt my chances. Smooth moves!

He was slouched in the corner pretending to stew over a classic novel. I must admit there is something alluring about a man reading a novel.

I smiled as he kindly kept looking down, so as to not acknowledge my previous conversation. "Jay" looked up with a wide charming grin. I gracefully sunk into the couch next to him and quickly noticed he was drinking water out of a camping canister. No coffee? No food?

I politely asked, "Did you order?"

He said "Oh, I ate before I came."

We casually discussed work and the weather, non controversial topics, when my meal arrived. I hate having someone watch me scarf my sandwich, a food item that is always too large to daintily fit into your mouth, so I offered to share. He politely hesitated-then quickly snatched up the sandwich. "Jay" was hungry. Good. A starving artist.

I felt very swanky as we soaked in the environment of a live guitarist strumming outside in the garden area, while we intelligently sat in our black clothing discussing culture.

The age difference started to show when I would say, "When I was your age I was working at such and such", "Or this is how I got started." And then I gave unsolicited advice-my personal favorite.

As we chatted I glanced over to see a skateboard on the ground. In disbelief I innocently asked if it was his skateboard. Maybe someone had left it at the table?

"Yeah", was his quick short reply.

I asked how far he "skated" over (not sure on the correct terminology) and "Jay" said over ten miles or so. I was shocked. But "Jay" said only because he didn't have a car. And that it was hard to sleep on his parents couch while also not having a car too.

Did I hear all this correctly? What?! My mind was spinning. Parents couch? That basically throws any intimacy options out the window. I guess we could always use the classic excuse of "Oh we are just cuddling and watching a movie". Not sure if I could regress back into my high school dating scenarios. I could not see a positive alternative to the couch....back seat of a car....no. Nooo!

While picturing the couch, my mind darted back to the skateboard. We could share it buddy style, frantically kicking our legs as fast as they would go in our acid-washed jeans and matching jacket. Total eighties flashback, but "Jay" was just a baby then, so he would not have shared such a fond memory.

We decided to check out the art walk downtown, so we jumped into my car, but first piled his book bag and skateboard into the backseat.

"Do you mind if I smoke?", he asked after already rolling and lighting a cigarette.

So he smoked. Interesting. I fought the urge to spray Lysol into the air and scream out yet another lecture on the hazards of smoking, especially a non-filtered cigarette.

Down town we strolled into galleries and greeted fellow artists. He saw a friend and they ran up to each other, hugging and rubbing. It was very intense...maybe they hadn't seen each other in awhile? I asked if that was an old friend?

"Jay" replied, "Oh we used to date, but the whole gay thing didn't work for me."

Fascinating. I was hip. I told him I had once danced with a girl, excluding she was my best friend. He nodded his head with a slightly puzzled look.

It was getting late so I said I needed to get home, not realizing he was at least thirty miles from his parents house.

It dawned on me and I stated, "Oh yeah, you don't have a car. I need to drive you home." "Jay" smiled at my clever recognition.

We quietly drove to his parents. Getting out of the car he hugged my head with a light squeeze, smashing my cheeks together, which strangley reminded me of my mother.

We retrieved his skateboard and book bag from the backseat.

After we said our goodbyes I asked myself, maybe an eight year difference is too big? I think so. I'm ready for a family and he's still finding himself.

Right then I came to terms. There would never be any skating off into the sunset.

Where Did I Go?!

2010-07-16T16:11:00.001-07:00

My Goodness! I haven't posted in a few days. There goes my damn promise to myself....to post everyday. Shoot! But I do have a date tonight! Yay! So far with him, in all our initial non-date interactions, we just stare at each other. Hmmm.....have to figure out what to talk about? I will have to dig up all of my old jokes, which I am sure will be very clever and impressive-or just scare the Hell out of him.

So many to posts to post! Is it bad that he is about eight years younger than me? When does it start to get pervy? I answer: Probably when I start asking that question! Yikes!

Well my lovely dears, I need to start prepping myself for the date. Hair, makeup, deodorant, and all the other good stuff. Have a fun Friday night!

Make it a Blockbuster Night

2010-07-10T15:48:00.000-07:00

Walking through Blockbuster looking for the latest entertaining movie I stumbled across a rare sighting. Luckily I had needed a mental break from myself, so I just so happened to be in the area.

I was walking the aisle and noticed a handsome gentleman (extra spicey hot) looking in the Action section. Action-yes! (In so many ways) Using my laser vision, I quickly assessed no wedding ring. Check. Hmmm...a possibility.

It's the reason I still believe in having an actual movie store and not a Redbox. The movie store is the perfect place to find other singles needing something to do on a Friday night.

Now was my time to shine! The planned approach: slowly move towards his section and come up with some charming movie question. Yes! That would work!

Making my way over....slowly....

slowly...slowly.

Dammit! Too slow! Oh no! He's moving to the front. He's at the register.

I missed my chance.

I walked to the attendant and asked her if he was indeed what I thought he was.

She nodded. "Yes. He is the only single man in North Ogden."

We stared at each other in silent understanding.

The other attendant walked over and said. "I already have him pegged, along with every other woman in North Ogden."

-Competition!

Cold Feet or Wet Feet?

2010-07-06T10:29:00.000-07:00

As I was walking through the parking lot, hurrying to work, my foot stepped off the sidewalk onto the lawn. Immediately my foot sunk into the ground. Dammit! Broken sprinkler head, as my leather shoe discovered. I tried desperately to shake off the excess water to no avail. The deed had been done. It was soaked through. Oh well, must continue walking and hopefully get to work early enough for coffee-my main priority.

So basically all day one foot was dry and the other one stayed wet. As I walked around talking to clients the one foot could be heard swooshing and swishing around the room. I overheard one man saying, "What is that noise?", as my wet foot echoed throughout the gallery. I quickly stopped walking, hoping he would not noticed that it was coming from the direction of my feet and then glance down and see that I had one dark shoe. How to explain?

Life can be tough and with one wet foot, it can be even tougher.

Words of Affirmation

2010-07-04T21:24:00.000-07:00

I have made a decision. To wake up every morning and think positive thoughts and visualize my future. So, I had the rather brilliant idea(stolen from somewhere I'm sure)of putting up words of affirmation on my wall.

Coloring, cutting, and uniquely designing each word, so that all would be special and positive. As I gently taped up the last artistically crafted word on the wall, "breath", my mother came in and informed me that I had misspelled "breath" and that I needed an "e" at the end. I was quickly deflated, but not defeated. I was not going to let an "e" hold me back! I walked over to my paper and scribbled an "e" out and slapped it on the wall. There! Done at last! My life complete and off to a positive start.

Somewhere in the middle of the night all my tape came loose and my words of affirmation fell on top of me. Not a good sign. I will use push pins the next time around.

Happy Fourth of July

2010-07-03T13:10:00.000-07:00

Wanted to wish everyone a very Happy Fourth of July. Hopefully you are enjoying a nice barbecue with family and friends. You just can't beat this weather. I'm working at the gallery today and then running over to Salt Lake for a Plein Air competition. Keeping my fingers crossed that I win the $500 bucks. That would be good. No, actually, excellent! And if I'm lucky, I will find something fun to do afterwards....the night is full of possiblities.

A Decision

2010-06-28T09:57:00.000-07:00

Many of us have been through some tough times, whether it be a death of a loved one, divorce, the loss of a job. We try to heal and move on....have hope. We go through the grieving process, and give it time. But what if it doesn't get any better?

You have probably heard the cliche "With time everything heals" or "Time reveals all". I do believe these sayings, but I am now finding that maybe we have to make a conscience decision to stop grieving. Enough is enough. Start a new thought pattern and block out the negative memories and past. By doing this are we just in denial and postponing the grief or does it let us move on?

Today I have made a decision to not be sad. To be happy and go out and do the things I love. If my memories of my marriage and all the hurtful things try to creep in, I will think of something else, forming a new thought pattern. If the feeling persists, then I will write my thoughts down and leave my worries and pain on the page. That's the plan for now anyhow.

2010-06-24T13:22:00.000-07:00

My mind has been stuck lately. It's amazing how we play an event over and over, thinking we will be able to fix it or hoping we won't repeat the same mistake. I keep turning over the end of my marriage. Asking questions like, "How did it happen", and "How can someone be so cold". As the divorce was taking place, I was in shock, not able to process the whole picture. I wondered why he put most of my stuff in the garage and to insisted on keeping my snow shoes, bike, and other outdoorsy items. All of these items were made especially for women?

Eight months later and my mind is finally able to see through the pain and put the pieces together. I'm trying to get the full picture of what happened. I now have a part of the puzzle. I believe he started an affair on one of his business trips, or possibly before. Instead of rescheduling his trip to Philadelphia so he would be able to attend my brothers wedding, he insisted it was critical that he fly out for the weekend. As soon as he arrived home he dropped the divorce bomb on me. What had happened?

Seeing pictures of him with his new girlfriend, I now understand that he wanted to keep my things so she would be able to use them. Some of their pictures together are of her drinking out of my camping coffee cup, sitting in my chair, using my sleeping bag, and petting my dog. I have been replaced.

I admit that she seems a better fit as far as common interests, but it still hurts that he was able to quickly move on with his life. No consequences for being an adulter and for the manner in which he discarded me. Eleven years of marriage and I was replaced in an instant.

Hoping to understand and heal. I may never understand. But I know I was able to maintain who I am under extreme pressure and handle the situation with dignity and grace. I enjoy redefining myself into hopefully a stronger person, and I know, with time, that I will be able to trust another person again.

Running to Quiet the Mind

2010-06-22T13:29:00.000-07:00

Feeling the air push past me as I run, helps to quiet my mind. Pockets of cold air swirl around my legs as I run down into a ravine along the dirt trail, but quickly dissipates when I hit pavement again. I run along the back of homes which line the mountain. Wildflowers are in bloom and I can smell the pungent fragrance of honeysuckle and rose. Sprinklers dust the perfectly manicured yards and the sound of their movement gives me a feeling of quaint familiarity. The simple joy of living in suburbia. The view along the bench is stunning, as the growing lights twinkle in the distance. I can still see the faint outline of the city as the sun dips behind the mountains. Running helps me to be in the moment, giving a sense of peace and a feeling that "everything is right with the world". And today it was.

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

2010-06-16T10:18:00.000-07:00

I've thought long and hard about what to write and how to start this blog.(Well okay, fifteen minutes over a whole bag of popcorn) I admit it's somewhat strange on my part to focus on Stanley Tucci, because he is a "movie star", but recently I have been through some devastating life experiences and have wanted to look for a light at the end of the tunnel.

In a nutshell, yes I used the word nutshell, I was married for eleven years. It was great. Fabulous! I loved having a companion to share my hopes and ideas. I was looking towards the future, when I came home and found my things in the garage. Apparently my marriage wasn't going as well as I thought.

I lost everything in a matter of a month. My house, my things, my marriage, my belief system, and even my damn dog.

Swimming in the dark hole of which was now my life, I needed hope, something to pull me out. I had been crying for hours one night and was mulling over my broken heart, when my mother, who had been constantly at my side, asked me what would make me happy. I laughed and choked on my tears and unexpectedly burst out with "Stanley Tucci and New York". My mother laughed in surprise and confusion. I explained that besides, thinking he was gorgeous, I also admired his creativity, acting, and his ability to push through some tough times himself....losing his wife and raising his three children. As far as New York goes, that would be a cool place to visit. The art "Mecca".