When the past catches up to you

Last night I met up for a drink with an old friend that I hadn't seen or heard from in 2 1/2 years. I think he moved to another planet or something. It was funny because even though so much time had passed, we still remembered how good of friends we used to be. The part that wasn't funny, in fact quite the opposite, was recounting what has gone on in my life over the past 2 1/2 years.

At first I had no intention of sharing any part of my sob story with my long lost friend, but warm kind eyes and an attentive caring listening ear allowed me to let my guard down enough to talk about things that only my closest friends and family know. I shook a little telling parts of my story, I hope he didn't notice, but at the end of it all when I knew no more details were required, my friend looked me in the eyes and said, "I am so sorry. I wish I could have been there for you."

Without hesitation I responded, "I don't. You wouldn't have even recognized me back then, I was a shell of who I am today. You couldn't have been there for me - I wouldn't have let you in. You couldn't have saved me - I had to save myself. I am the strong healthy happy independent woman that I am today because I learned how to be alone. Accepting that I am OK on my own, making myself happy, those were challenges that I had to overcome on my own. I'm grateful that we are becoming friends again today because I am better now than I have ever been."

2008 has been a fabulous year for me. I traveled a lot with friends and even made it outside of the country for the first time. I started back to school after a 10 year hiatus and have generally remained busy happy and productive. In fact, I even paid off my car this year! That's right, I OWN my car for the first time in my life! All things considered, my life is pretty damn good.

Here's to an even better 2009!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Popping My Snowshoeing Cherry

Some of you who frequent my blog or actually know me personally, know I love to go hiking. It is my little piece of sanity. In fact, one of my blog categories is Hiking. So what does a hiker chick, in desperate need of sanity, do in the winter time?

Snowshoe!

This was my first experience snowshoeing, but certainly will not be my last. I was a little worried that I would not be able to keep up with the group as school and the holidays have prohibited me from working out as much as I used to. OK, so prohibited may be the wrong word, but they have served as a convenient excuse anyway. I am happy to report that I did great. I kept up with the group, I didn't pass out or keel over. I did however have a goofy grin on my face the entire time. I couldn't help it, it just felt SO GOOD to be back out in nature, I had an endorphin high that lasted all day long.













We snowshoed The Pioneer Trail up East Canyon Road at the Little Dell Reservoir. This is actually the first hike I blogged about last may. I tried to get pictures of the same spots because I am a giant nerd like that.













After hiking I called up Karina the Russian to tell her all about out. I was bouncing off the walls explaining it to her. I told her that she had to come with me next time because it was so beautiful, the air was so clean and fresh, it felt so great to be out in nature, it was a killer workout but low impact cause it didn't hurt my knees at all and it was just so amazing!
She laughed at me and told me I sounded like I was glowing and that she hadn't heard me this excited since I got an unexpected text message on Christmas from a crush, good ol Mr. New York. I laughed and had to agree except the butterflies that this snowshoeing outing gave me were actually created by me, not by a man. So pretty much that makes snowshoeing fucking rule in my book!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

The aftermath of Christmas parties

My favorite part of throwing Christmas parties is getting to spent time with friends. My second favorite part of throwing Christmas parties, is leftovers. I had so much food and booze left over from my Tacky Christmas Party that I invited a few friends over the following night to prevent me from eating a whole plate of 7 layer dip by myself.
My small leftover party ended up being a lot of fun. Midway through the night, we decided to change the theme of this party into a pajama party. Which basically means take your bra off and get comfortable. I am proud to report that I have the best time for removing my bra out from under my clothes. Like, 5 seconds flat! Freedom!

I'm not quite sure why we decided my tree needed more decorations, but I think stiletto heels (or "hills" as Karina calls them) and bras made a nice addition.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have the "breastest" one ever!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

It's Official!

I am "officially" in a relationship with my BFF Karina the Russian. I suppose it was only a matter of time. I can't even tell you how many times we have been asked if we are "more than friends." Well now, thanks to the postal service, there is proof that we are in fact "more than friends."

Our first piece of mail together! To my family Christmas party no less! I was worried they wouldn't accept my new relationship... I am so happy to see them embracing it with open arms! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that even though we are "officially" in a relationship, we still are not lesbians. That's probably helping with the whole acceptance part. Honestly I think it would be great if we were lesbians, we already make such a cute couple and all. But, sadly, we are both big of fans of the penis so until the penis fairy comes around we are content to have our non-lesbian, best friends relationship.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Tacky Christmas Party

This year I let Christmas take over my tiny 1 bedroom apartment. Instantly I started regretting getting so festive once I realized that the only people who would be seeing my festive bachelorette pad, would be me and my cat. My simple remedy?
Throw a party.
Nothing big, just a few of my closest girlfriends. My place is tiny, any more than 8 - 10 would have been uncomfortable anyway. I chose a theme, which was inspired by my Mother.

Behold the tacky Christmas sweaters in all their glory!




Of course to thank my mother for letting us borrow a few of her sweaters, my sister and I took this picture which we printed out and framed for her.

I'm pretty sure my Mom thinks it was a giant party to mock her, but it wasn't! In fact, someone wanting to be like you is the biggest form of a complement. So that makes us saintly daughters. You're welcome Mom!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Corrupt Christmas Carols

Christmas songs get old really fast when you have heard the same ones your entire life. I have gotten to the point where I pretty much know every song played, word for word, without even thinking about it, yet alone the meaning behind them. Where am I going with this? Why am I writing about Christmas songs?

The other day I was driving in the car with my BFF, Karina the Russian. One of the trendy "top 40's" radio station decided to play a re-mix of the old classic "Grandma Got Ran Over By A Reindeer". Now I have heard this song countless times, I am pretty sure we even sang it in Elementary school for a Christmas concert. It has always been just a silly, funny, harmless song. That is, until I saw it through Karina's eyes.

Karina: "Are you listening to what this song is saying? This song is so messed up! Are they saying what I think they are saying? Listen!"

"She'd been drinking too much eggnog and we begged her not to go. But she'd left her medication and she stumbled out the door into the snow."

Karina: "Oh. My. God."

"When they found her Christmas mornin' at the scene of the attack, there were hoof prints on her forehead...

Karina: "Seriously!"

"and incriminatin' Claus marks on her back. Oh! Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas eve. You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa we believe."

Karina: "In Russia they don't have songs like this. This song is seriously messed up. Very bad. How freaking rude and crude is that? Instead of worrying about grandma they are believing in Santa? I mean that is just wrong. That is a traditional song? What is wrong with you people? That is just sick and wrong. If my grandma got ran over by a reindeer I would not be singing about Santa. Seriously American people are so weird."

She continued on like that for quite some time. I was practically rolling in my seat from laughing so hard. Mostly because she is right. It IS a pretty morbid Christmas song.

Luckily the remixed version of the song, with all it's electronic drum beats, stopped there and mixed itself on to a different song. I'd hate to think of what Karina would have thought if she heard the rest of the song go on to talk about Grandpa watching football and drinking beer or the dilemma of opening Grandma's gifts or sending them back. I'm sure that would have made her completely loose faith in Americans forever!

What did this whole experience teach me? Something about being desensitized to music, numb to the holiday hype, oblivious to the obvious... one of those I'm sure. But more importantly, it taught me about priorities. If my Grandma ever gets hit by a reindeer, I am hunting down that fat man in a suit, along with his freakishly gifted reindeer, and making them pay. Maybe in the form of extra gifts such as designer purses, clothes, and trips. But regardless...

He. Will. Pay.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Princess Party Hell

After spending Friday night partying with rock stars, I woke up mid Saturday morning knowing that I had another very important party to get going to. So I rolled out of bed and managed to get dressed. I sleepily walked into the kitchen to start some coffee only to look out the window to see 6 inches of new snow! I seriously considered just going back to bed, but the consequences of having to face my niece after missing her 3 year old princess birthday party were just too great.

My princess baby sister decided to play along and dressed up in an old bridesmaid dress. Here she is holding the birthday princess, her daughter Brielle.

A swarm of princesses buzzing around the birthday princess opening her presents.

There had to be 8-10 little princesses running around. Even my "daughter" Pasha made it, thanks to her father being an incredible sport. She was a little shy at first, but just like her mother, Karina the Russian, give her a little candy and she warmed right up! She did however feel the need to stay incognito to avoid the paparazzi.

I brought my makeup to the party and put blush, eyeshadow and lipstick on all of the girls. Of course the pink eyeshadow was the most popular color chosen. I'm slowly creating little monsters everywhere I go. Already both Brielle and Pasha ask me for lipstick every time they see me because they know a) I always have it on me and b) I am more than happy to put it on them.

So that is pretty much most of my weekend. Partying with rock stars one night and going to princess parties the next. Never a dull moment it seems. At least that is how it can seem if you only ever hear about the exciting parts of my life.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Friday Night with Hoobastank

Friday night Karina the Russian, my sis Staci and I went to the X96 Nightmare Before X-mas concert featuring Anberlin and Hoobastank.

Somewhere around 6 years ago, Karin the Russian had met the guitarist for Hoobastank while working for a hotel. She has often talked about him and how much she wished that she had returned his call way back when. So I suggested to her to reach out and contact him (through the lovely myspace world) to see if he remembered her, which of course he did - vividly! Long story short, we ended up hanging out with the band before they went on stage, we stood on the side of the stage while they played their set and partyed with them at the unofficial after party. Needless to say, Karin is "in love"... again. Unfortunately we didn't bring a camera and didn't think to take many camera phone pictures so this is our only "good" picture.

The band(s), their technical people and their friends were all amazingly cool. It's safe to say we had a VERY good time. I'd like to say that I have gotten to the point where I am not star struck by rockstars, but sometimes I still am. For example, I couldn't get up the nerve to go over and say "hi" to the lead singer of Anberlin. I LOVE those guys! In fact, 3 years ago I actually got to meet them, but for some reason I lost my nerve completely. He was sitting maybe 15 feet away from me too! Guess it didn't help that I was a little tipsy and they are a "Christian Rock" band so I am not sure if they even drink or not. Regardless, I just kept picturing making an ass out of my self by saying something stupid like "Hi! Remember me? We met 3 years ago. I LOVE YOU! I have all of your albums - memorized! Let's get married and have lots of rockstar babies!" then security would inevitably be called and they would have to pry me off of him and the whole time I would be screaming "I love you! Call me!" while shouting out my phone number.

Regarless of my chicken-shit-ness, we did have a lot of fun.

Rockstars, motocross guys, tour buses, Doritos, VIP section, lots of laughing... you know, our typical Friday night out.


Blogfully yours,
Summer

Tacky Christmas Sweaters and a Sing-along

Last night my family and I got in the holiday spirit and went to "The Forgotten Carols" by Michael McLean. Now for those of you who are not familiar with The Fogotten Carols, let me tell you, in Utah, it is a big freaking deal! My mother bought the tickets about 2 months in advance. It is a live performance of the book and the soundtrack which are about a woman who learns the true meaning of Christmas through a series of "forgotten carols". Very Mormon, very spiritual, a little cultish.

This was my third time seeing the carols. As a young teenage girl, I read the book and fell in love with the story and the carols. In fact, this year is one of the first years I have not listened to the soundtrack as I decorated my tree. It has probably been 8 to 10 years since I last saw the carols being performed, but I remembered it almost perfectly. Honestly I was a little scared to go. I'm far from religious but this show always seems to make me cry and I have had enough crying to last me a while.

I made it through the first 30 minutes; cool and collected. Then the stupid song about Mary letting someone hold her baby (the baby Jesus) so she could rest and it changed this lady's life because she could never be a mother, but it made her feel like one. Ahh! Tear jerker! My cute little sister sitting to my left, who IS a mother, takes one look at the tears that are running down my cheek, reaches over and holds my hand. She knows. She knows heartache and fear that I suppress. Always cool and collected on the outside but slightly tormented on the inside. At least when it comes to the subject of children. Then my Dad, who is on right, notices my snitch tears and puts his gigantic hand on my leg. Luckily intermission was shortly after that song so I was able to pull myself back together.

At the end of the concert, Mr. McLean who is staring and narrating the show, leads the audience in a giant sing-along complete with linking arms to the person next to you.

"Everybody now! We can be together forever someday! We can be together forever someday! We can be together forever sooommmmeeee DAAAAYYYY!"

*insert giant eye rolling and slight feeling of nausea*

I was definitely in the middle of my biggest nightmare-de ja vu-flashback of my upbringing. But it was, after all, Christmas and my Mother had gone to the trouble of organizing the outing. Anything to bring a little spirituality into her heathen daughters life.

Being in the middle of a Mormon concert has it's advantages however. Like the people watching. I swear to you I have never seen so many tacky Christmas sweaters in one place! As soon as the show was over I told my sister "quick! Grab out your camera phone and start taking pictures of the Christmas sweaters!"

Unfortunately the only pictures I was able to capture were of my own mothers hideous sweater.















Mom: "Why are you taking pictures of me? You're not going to put this on your blog are you?"

Me: "Of course I am."

Mom: "I want you to know that there is a whole womens center at my work who wears sweaters like this. You tell them the 50 year old women are rebelling!"

Me: "OK Mom."

Mom: "And you're writing about the concert too?"

Me: "Of course."

Mom: "...and you will only talk about it with...?"

Me: "Complete respect."

Mom: "Good girl."


Blogfully yours,
Summer

Frankenstein gets an A

Conversation with Karina the Russian:

Me: "Guess what honey? I just finished taking my math final and...you're never going to believe this, but I got 100% on it which also means I am going to get an A out of the class! The teacher graded our finals as soon as we finished them. It was all I could do to keep from jumping up and down in the middle of class! Can you believe it?"

Karina: "Oh my god! Honey that is so fabulous! You are such a little Frankenstein....or....um..."

Me: laughing

Karina: "Einstein! You are such a sexy little Einstein! You are like, the sexiest nerd I know! I bet all of the college boys have to put their books on their laps when the sexy nerd walks into class! I'm so proud of you honey! Seriously!"

Me: "I freaking love you!"

Karina: "I love you too my sexy-crotch-Einstein-college-girl!"


I have completed my first college course in over 7 years. My first math class in over 10 years! I am actually very impressed with myself. Honestly, I have never been an A student. I was more concerned with boys or working or being a social butterfly. I suppose the difference this time has to do with maturity or perhaps discipline levels. Maybe it is the fact that I am paying for the classes and I'll be damned if I will let that money go to waste.

No matter what the combining factors are, I got my first college A and it feels great!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Snuggles

Last Friday I watched the Jazz game with Karina the Russian at her place. Our "son" Bodie was being so adorable! I wrestled and played with him until he was finally worn out. He fell asleep snuggled up on my chest.


Apparently Bodie is a boob man, which I guess with two women as your parents, makes that not altogether surprising.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Dick Magnet

I've written about getting hit on by a waiter. I've written about drunken attempts at a complement. I've written about failed relationships and my horrible habit of creating memories through crafts. This has all been within the past 30 days. Sad thing is, I still have 2 more stories to share.

The first is a continuation to the night I received what is hereby known as my "crotch complement" by Limo Guy. That same night I was also getting picked up on by his Limo driver. Now Limo Driver considers himself a musician. He an older African American man who has an extremely deep, low, sultry bluesy voice. He insisted on telling me how great he is and how I shouldn't judge him just because he drives the limo. He is apparently a "really big deal." He claims to have written songs with Ice Cube and when he is on stage women just throw themselves at him. He is never interested in these women however because his momma taught him to be picky. Oh but with me as his muse he could make sweet sweet music. Chart topping music in fact. He would be sure to give me credit of course seeing as how I would be his inspiration and all.

Needing a diversion, I went to the bathroom. Limo Driver decides to "borrow" my phone to call his phone so that he would have my number. Lucky me! He has called no less than 5 times. He has text a few times too. I have never once answered or responded. I actually have his number programmed with a "DO NOT ANSWER" as the last name, but he still seems hell bent on trying to get me to make sweet music with him. I should also mention that after the party, Karina the Russian informed me that apart from his multiple drug addictions, he was also recently released from prison. Awesome!


Story two!
Last week I went out with a group of friends. I was standing next to one of my guy friends when a random guys walks up to me.

Random Guy: "Hey! Is that your boyfriend?"

Me: "No. He is one of my friends."

RG: "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Me: "Um... No."

RG: "Can I get your number then?"

Me: "That's a little forward don't you think? I don't even know you."

RG: "Oh... well... what do you do?"

Me: "I work in advertising. You?"

RG: "I'm in from New York. I'm a male dancer."

At this point random guy starts dancing for me. Dipping down low and bringing it back up again. I'm staring at him completely dumbfounded. I'm not sure if I want to laugh or cry. How can one girl be so lucky? I patted him on the shoulder, told him "no thanks" and went to the restroom so I could shake it off. I looked and looked in the mirror, but I couldn't find "Pick Up On Me", "Approach Me" or "Easy" written anywhere on my forehead.

This is my social life. I'm not going to say that I didn't or don't ever meet nice guys. I do. I am just on a major loosing (read: looser) streak lately. I suppose this where I tell myself that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet your prince.

Screw that!

This is where I tell myself to laugh. After all these guys ARE giving me great stuff to write about. PLUS not just anyone can be this big of Dick Magnet. It has to be some sort of talent, right? I mean, God gave all of us talents so maybe this is mine. Yeah! I'm so going to run with that thought! My parents were right, turning to God really does make you feel better.


Blogfully yours,
Summer

My Big Fat Mormon Funeral

The past week has been an incredibly challenging one for my family and for myself. Now that the viewings and the funeral are over I am finally able to sit back and reflect on everything that happened.

I'm not a super private person, but my feelings of regret and sadness I will keep to myself. Instead I wanted to share a few stories/memories that I will take with me.

My older sister deliberated on whether or not to bring her 9 yr old son (Daemon) and her 4 yr old daughter (Rowan) to the funeral but in the end was talked into bringing them. She and I walked her son up to the casket to say goodbye to his great grandpa that he had only met twice. We had all tried our best to explain to him that grandpa had died, but it was OK because he is in heaven with Jesus. When we approached the coffin, trying to stay strong but felt the tears about to fall (yet again), my nephew looked at his great grandpa with a studious eye, taking everything in, but all he said was "it's sad."

I went to sit down on one of the sofas aligning the room. Daemon came and sat down next to me. I felt inclined to share some of my adult wisdom with him, to comfort him somehow or maybe it was to prepare him.

"Wow... So I guess this is your first funeral... But unfortunately you will be going to a lot more in your life time because eventually everybody dies."

Not super smooth, I'll admit. But I was grieving and it was the best I could come up with. It didn't phase him however. He looked right at me and said, "Yes but they also live! People get born and they live and they live and they live. Then when they are older, like 89, they die. It is the circle of life Summer."

He said it so matter of factly. I just stared at him and the tears came unabashedly rolling down my face. Here I am trying to tell him about the harsh realities of this world. In an instant he spins it around to let me know that even though there is death, and yeah, that sucks, there is also life! My grandfather lived a long happy life and I would like to believe he would want me to do the same! In fact I know he would. So that is what I intend to do. Keep on living. Keep celebrating life. Learning from every experience, good and bad, cause that is what grandpa would want me to do.


Blogfully yours,
Summer

The hits keep on coming

First of all let me say a great big "THANK YOU"! I have been overwhelmed by the amazing amount of support, sympathy and condolences I have received. I suppose that death and grieving is something that just about everyone can relate to. Thanks for helping me feel less alone.

Tonight I decided to pull out all of my Christmas decorations. My mother is very big on decorating for the holidays and I suppose it is something she passed on to me. I don't go crazy for every holiday (although I do have decorations for all of them), but I do for Christmas. This year however, decorating took a horrible turn for the worse.

I opened up the first of my 5 large boxes of Christmas decorations. Sitting on the top, laid out next to each other waiting to be discovered were the stockings that my x-boyfriend and I made with love last year for Christmas. I broke up with him 3 weeks after Christmas. So of course I need to burn them or at very least toss them into the dumpster right? The evil part of me considered mailing my "x" his stocking back... Actually I am still considering it...

The part that upsets me most about seeing the stupid stockings is that it is complete dejavu. Last Christmas when I was pulling out decorations the same thing happened only with a different "x", but it was worse because it wasn't just his stocking, it was his AND his 2 daughters stockings! Damn. I loved those kids.

Seriously internet people, I am unlucky in love! Maybe I was wrong. Maybe single for the holidays IS the way to go. Who knows, the way things are looking, single forever looks like the way to go. Only buying presents for family, friends and myself, that's not so bad. Having only a stocking for myself and my cat - very do-able. And next year when I pull the decorations out I won't have this problem.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

The Blackest Friday

Originally I had planned to write a post about my crazy 4 AM "Black Friday" shopping experience complete with pictures of my friend Jenn and I all bundled up waiting in a line that wrapped around the building.

That experience didn't end up happening.

Friday morning I received a text from Jenn at 4 AM saying that she wasn't going to make it shopping because she was sick. I was actually VERY relieved because I didn't sleep well plus I was sick myself.

I spent the morning working on homework and then decided that I better drive myself to the InstaCare to make sure I don't have strep throat. While driving there I called my Dad to see if he would be home later so I could pick up my Christmas tree from his basement and would he be kind enough to carry it up to my car and are there still leftovers at the house? He let me ramble on with all my trivial questions and when he was quite sure I was done he cleared his throat and began.

"Summer I received a frantic message from your Grandmother this morning. I was at the temple so I called her back as soon as I got home, I actually just got off the phone with her when you called. There is no easy way to say this, but your Grandpa Hom died this morning."

I swear my heart stopped beating. Instantly I started to cry as my Dad told me all of the details that he had found out. This was my Dad's father and I by sheer chance was the first person he was telling. He hadn't even had a chance to process things for himself, hadn't even had a chance to tell my mother or even change out of his church clothes.

I rushed over to my parents house to see what I could do to help. My Dad hadn't eaten so I made him some food. He was coughing up a lung so I after my Mother and Sister got home to look after the phones, I took my Dad to the InstaCare where we found out he had Bronchitis and I have a strain of Strep. While sitting in the InstaCare waiting room my Dad started to write his fathers obituary. He turned to me and said "You know it's funny because I get to something I don't know and my first thought is I'll just call him up and ask. But I can't call him up anymore."

It breaks my heart to see my father like this. I am sad for my loss of a grandfather, but sadder for the loss of my father's father. My grandpa was 89 years old. He died peacefully.

Please forgive me if my posts are not updated as often as I normally try to do. I will be busy and distracted. I am trying to keep it together and stay strong for my family in the midst of semester projects and finals. This next week will be a challenging one.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Green Bean Casserole

Me: "Hi Stac. So I'm at the store and my Thanksgiving assignment is to make a Green Bean Casserole."

Staci: "Ha ha! You have to cook!"

Me: "Yeah and I am in charge of bringing the coffee too. Don't worry, I'm bringing the real stuff. None of the decaf crap. It's one of the 2 times a year that the family will break the word of wisdom and I plan to take full advantage. Oh, and I got the yummy creamer too! Anyway, I came strait to the store from class and I don't have a recipe for the casserole."

Staci: "So...um...why are you calling me?"

Me: "Because you are such an amazing cook! Ha! Kidding. You live with Mom and Dad and can get the recipe for me."

Staci: "Oh. Do you know where the recipe box is?"

Me: "YOU LIVE THERE! How would I know where it is? I guess the other option would be for you to jump online and google the recipe then text it to me or call me back with it."

Staci: "Yeah, I could do that. Hold on."

Me: "Holding. I can't believe that they don't have the recipe on the back of the cans of green beans. I was kind of counting on that but NONE of the cans, and I checked them all, had the recipe. I mean, what the hell?"

Staci: "The nerv."

Me: "I know! Don't they realize that there are people like us out there? So, do you have the recipe now or what?"

Staci: "Yeah, 2 cans of green beans, cream of mushroom soup, soy sauce, milk, and fired onions crisps."

Me: "That's it?"

Staci: "Yep."

Me: "Wow. I can't believe we had to google that. That's actually really sad."

Staci: "Someone put a comment that they are allergic to onions so they used almond slivers instead."

Me: "I'll do both. It will make it seem fancier or something."

Staci: "Cool."

Me: "Yeah. I better grab this stuff and go because I have been staring at the green beans for like 10 minutes now and people probably think I am a dense. Thanks for helping and being the one person who cooks less than me."




Blogfully yours,
Summer

Christmas sins & drunken compliments

Saturday Karina the Russian and I committed a sin. Well, not like a really bad sin (yes, I just used "like"), it was just the sin of putting up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving, which to some is completely inexcusable. I however, am pretty sure we will be forgiven after fervent repenting to the bishop and maybe a few hail Marys for good measure.

After putting up the tree and untangling strand upon strand of Christmas lights we decided to celebrate Karina's newly festive condo by getting dressed up and going out. We ran into an old friend who invited us to a house party. We knew this friend really well so we said what the hell, hopped in his limo and away we went. We ended up at this mansion cabin house on 400 acres of land. The owner had coyotes, reindeer, 5 ponds with some 4,000 fish in them, roosters and a whole bunch of other cool stuff. Anyway, too much details. We get there and we are having a great time but as the night progresses and the number of drinks increase, limo guy gets really tipsy and decided to...um...complement me?

"Summer you look greeeat! I mean jus look at those leeegs! And you have the hottest crotch area. No I mean it Summa. Bee-ute-iful!"

CROTCH AREA??? It was such an incredibly ridiculous thing to say and it caught me so off guard that I couldn't help but bust up laughing. Karina and I were practically rolling on the floor and the funniest part was I couldn't even get mad because poor drunk limo friend wasn't really trying to make a pass at me, this was his honest to god attempt at a compliment! Hmm... come to think of it, maybe it was a pass at me. Nah! I'm much more comfortable thinking of it as just a failed attempt at a compliment.



Blogfully yours,
Summer

Busted being a rocker

One of the cardinal rules of having a personal blog is to avoid writing about work at all costs. However, this was a little too funny to pass up.

Remember how my friend Sarah wrote about our Metallica concert experience in her column for In Utah? Well somebody at my office came across the article and decided to make sure everyone was aware of my stardom. You can imagine my surprise when my boss handed me the article and said "I never knew you were such a rocker."

I know it's a little blurry, but at the top are all of my co-workers initials. Standard policy is to cross of your initials and pass it on to the next person so that everyone gets a chance to see whatever important document is getting circulated. Also written to the right it says "Summer is totally famous."

I'm not going to lie, I was pretty embarrassed. I guess that is the price you pay for having famous friends. Funny if you think about it, I was able to strut my butt-rocker self through a restaurant, public transportation and a concert with my head held high. But knowing that my boss and co-workers read about me wearing "hooker gear" to a metal concert was enough to make me want to hide in my office. I guess it's because I try so hard to keep "Professional Summer" separate from "Rocker Summer". Well, the cat's out of the bag now. Think they'll be OK if I trade in my business suits for fishnet shirts and mini skirts?

Blogfully yours,
Summer

How Dark Are You?

For my Humanities class I read a short story called "Telephone Conversation" by Wole Soyinka. I really loved his use of sarcasm and the way he stood up for himself. So, I thought I would share it with you!


The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. "Madam," I warned,
"I hate a wasted journey--I am African."
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was foully.
"HOW DARK?" . . . I had not misheard . . .
"ARE YOU LIGHT OR VERY DARK?" Button B, Button A.* Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfounded to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis--
"ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?" Revelation came.
"You mean--like plain or milk chocolate?"
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. "West African sepia"--and as afterthought,
"Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding
"DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS."
"Like brunette."
"THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?"
"Not altogether. Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused--
Foolishly, madam--by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black--One moment, madam!"--sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears--"Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
See for yourself?"


After every reading we have to do an artistic interpretation. I decided to try my hand at painting again. It's no Chocolate Buddha, but that's probably a good thing.



Blogfully yours,
Summer

Cat Lady

Me: "Hi my name is Summer and I am a cat lady"

Everyone: "Hi Summer"


I have come to terms that I am a 28 year old cat lady. Most nights, it's just me and Aurora, 2 peas in a pod... only problem is my other pea is a bitch. Yes, I just called my cat a bitch. I love her dearly, I do! But she is so demanding and grumpy that I don't know what to do. She hates everybody else but me, which is endearing in a lot of ways but mostly it's exhausting. I mean I can't pay attention to her at all times! Blast it all! Cats' are supposed to be the low maintenance version of a kid! Work with me kitty! Work with me!!!

The only thing good about the Cheesecake Factory

My sister Staci decided that for her birthday she wanted to get a group together to go to The Cheesecake Factory. She asked me if I would be willing to go an hour early to get our names on the list, because I am a good sister and it was her birthday I agreed, but dragged Karina the Russian with me.
When we got there they told us it would be a 2 HOUR WAIT!!! Now, I'm not going to say their food is not good - it is. But come on! No food is worth waiting 2 hours just to be seated. Unfortunately, this was not my call to make. At least the restaurant is located right in front of the mall (strategic placement much?) so Karina and I just wandered around the mall. I was on a mission to find a new winter hat. I found one that I am pretty much in love with and am going back to buy after my next paycheck.

The restaurant wait ended up only being 1 hr and 45 minutes. ONLY! Regardless, we had a lot of fun and Staci loved the singing card that Karina and I gave her. "Special, special, yes you are!" I'm pretty sure it was her favorite present of the night. Our server was excellent and didn't even hit on any of us, so that was a bonus too.

Happy Birtday (one day late) Little Sister! I love you more than you will ever know!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Metallica Part II: My face in print

A few weeks ago I wrote about going to the Metallic concert with my friend Sarah for her birthday. Sarah writes a weekly column called That's What She Said for the independent paper IN Utah This Week. The issue that hit stands last Thursday (and is still out) featured her take on the concert experience as well as a picture of us. This is my first experience of having my picture in the paper for non-illegal activities. I'm pretty sure mug shots don't count though, but even if they do, I like my smile in this picture MUCH better. Click here to check it out.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Breaking and Entering

Last night Karina the Russian and I decided to hit the town. We got all dolled up together and she offered to drive, which was perfect because my car is not registered due to my bad habit of buying clothes & groceries instead of a new windshield which it needs to pass inspection. So I decided I didn't need to bring ALL of my keys, just my house key. Since I was wearing jeans I just stuck the lone key in my pocket and off we went.

As anyone who reads this blog is probably aware, good times always happen when the two of us are together. We get to the club, walk in front of the VIP line, don't pay a cover, say "hi" to all the peps (it's Salt Lake, you are bound to run into people you know wherever you go) and start having a good time.

Somehow, during the "have a good time" part of the night, my key managed to travel somewhere outside of my pocket (shocker!). I ended up spending the night at Karina's and it wasn't until we were sitting at breakfast that it dawned on me to check if I still had my key, which of course I didn't. I called my sis to see if she still had my spare key, and she didn't. I start freaking out until Karina asked if I left my porch door unlocked. I say "yes, but it is on the second story and there are bushes all around it."

Did that stop my beautiful, resourceful, cat-like, Russian friend? Did it detour her from thinking she could do it, even for a minute?

Of course not.

Lessons learned today would include the following:
1. Make sure someone reliable always has a spare key to my place.
2. When going out find a more reliable place to put house key (like a purse perhaps?).
3. Lock balcony doors from here on out at all times.
4. I would be completely lost without Karina, never loose her as a best friend.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Short Story: The last phone call

"I was worried you might never want to talk to me again" April said, trying to sound cool and collected. There was a slight tinge of nervousness in her voice that alerted him to just how hard their month of not speaking had been for her.

"Well the thing is" Sven started, using a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing, the way he drew out the first word while he collected his thoughts before continuing. This time however, it struck fear in her heart, fear of what would come next, fear that he would tell her that he did contemplate never speaking to her again. She held her breath knowing that the next thing he spoke meant more to her than she originally thought was possible.

He paused, then very deliberate and slowly he began again.

"The thing is, that is not going to happen."

Sven heard Aprils breath catch and knew instantly how much the sentiment must have meant to her. Living an ocean away from someone teaches you to listen carefully, there can be meaning in every sound you hear.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that" April managed to squeak out while trying to fight back tears. She prayed that somehow, on some level, he would know just how sorry she was.

Sven, recognizing the direction the conversation was headed and not being one to linger in uncomfortable emotional situations, quickly turned his tone into a more playful one.

"Come on, you're not going to get rid of me that easy."

It worked, he heard his distant love laugh. Somehow hearing the music in her laugh and feeling her smile gaping the distance between them gave both of them the sense that even though they had reached no resolution, as there was never one to be reached, everything would be alright. Time had only made the cautious hearts grow fonder, not apart.



Blogfully yours,
Summer

Story Time: Attack of the Pickup Artist

It's time for another installment of Story Time. Gather around and get comfy, cause today is a good one.

Yesterday was a dreary day, all gray and rainy outside. Dreary days make me crave comfort food and the comfort food I had in mind for lunch was pasta. Unfortunately there is not a great selection of Italian places by my work, but I was determined that I would get my comfort carbs.

The first place I tried (Stoneground for my Utah readers) had absolutely NO parking so I left. The second place I went to (Al Fornos) had decided to close early because they were slow. Completely frustrated, but still determined I went to the one place I knew wouldn't fail me, The Old Spaghetti Factory. Obviously not my first choice, but at this point I would have eaten cardboard.

I get seated and a 20-something male waiter comes to greet me. He takes my order then comes back with my drink. Somewhere along the way he must have decided that he is feeling uber confident because when he returned he had transformed into Rico Suave.

Waiter: "So...how come you're not married."

(Men always seem to know to look at your hand first thing before spewing their lines.)

Me: laughing politely "Um...well I was. I got divorced about 3 years ago."

Waiter: "What happened"

Me: staring at him dumbfounded "Do you always ask your customers if they are married or not or is today just my lucky day?"

He rambles a lame response then asks a few more personal questions, like if I was raised in Utah, what my blood type is and my gross monthly salary. Finally he leaves and comes back with my food.

Waiter: "Did you miss me."

Me: more laughing politely

A little while later, after checking how my food was about 3 times, I was done and it was time for the obligatory dessert offer.

Waiter: "So, can I interest you in some ice cream?"

Me: "No, I'll have to pass. Can I just get the check please?"

Waiter: "You have a great figure so I hope that's not why you are passing."

Me: "Um, no. Just in a bit of a hurry."

Waiter: "Anything I can do to make you stay longer?"

Me: "Sorry, gotta get back to work. Check please?"

Mr. Suave swaggers off and returns with the check. He slowly and deliberately reaches across the table to set it down in front of me. Looks me in the eyes with everything he's got, which to me was a I'm gonna play it cool like I know you want me but really I'm too chicken to just ask you out because I am scared to death you will reject me look.

Waiter: "Come back again, real soon."

Me: Throwing up in my mouth a little, giggling and plastering on my polite smile "I may just have to do that."

I wink cause I am mean like that. Sign my credit card receipt and wrote him a note that just said "thanks for making me smile". Which he did, every time I thought about him I laughed to myself. Silly man, he should have known that if he really wanted to impress me all he had to do was box me up some free dessert. Sweeten the deal, if you know what I mean. Yeah. Free dessert will trump cheesy pickup lines any day in my book.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

The things I can't say

So here is the problem with having a blog, people read it. I know, sounds dumb right? I WANT people to read it, but at the same time, it hinders me from talking about the things that are really on my mind.

A wise woman once told me that blogging is cheaper than therapy. So true, but what good is it if you can't really say what is on your mind? For example, item one I'd like to talk about is x's, in particular a recent conversation with one. There is so much I could say, so much I need to get off my chest, but writing about x's has inadvertently hurt them in the past when they have read my blog. I never meant for it to hurt them, but it did. So now, to avoid that happening again, I CAN'T WRITE ABOUT THEM.

Second...how do I say what it is without saying it? How about I just say, in a very tip toe manner, it has to do with dating and whether or not to accept an invitation (with a much older man)? Shit, that is probably saying too much. But what am I supposed to do? Write about my cat all the time? It is, after all, MY blog. I should be able to say whatever I want. Right? But then there is the whole people having feelings and what not. I mean to the person(s) I am writing, or not writing about, it will be completely obvious that I am talking about them even if the rest of the world has not idea. I guess the problem lies in me caring. I should just learn not to give a crap. That's the obvious answer here.

Anywho, here is my random rant of a post for the day. Since I am sure this post has not left you feeling uplifted, I'm steal someone else's profound words...they seemed to help me today anyway.

"Our life's a stage, a comedy: either learn to play and take it lightly, or bear its troubles patiently."
- Palladas

Here's to taking it lightly!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

An Explanation for my new son

I asked Karina the Russian what we will tell our new adopted son Bodie the cat when he grows older and asks where he came from. Her response was simple and too the point.

Karina: "He has two mothers and possibly one Dad! It's like a typical Salt Lake City family! First mom and dad are a strong religious couple then they split up and mom becomes a non-lesbian."

Logical enough. Just so long as he knows he is loved. That's what's really important.


Blogfully yours,
Summer

Running for puppies...and a kitten too

A few weeks ago I went running for boobies with Karina the Russian. Saturday it was time for me to collect on going to her charity run by dragging her to my charity run...at 7:30am. The Squatters Chasing Tail 5K Fun Run for the benefit of UAATA (Utah Animal Assisted Therapy Association). I have helped with the marketing and PR (pro-bono) for the run for the past 4 years.
The turnout was amazing, their best numbers to date! Which is awesome because this is the one event that keeps them funded for the year. All participants in the "fun run" were welcome to bring their dog(s) with them. This was a little hard for me this year because I no longer have a dog. I also ran into my ex-sister-in-law, which was a little awkward, but it was nice to see her.
Karina and I chose to take advantage of the "fun" in "fun run" and walked the course. After the run they give out awards and have a raffle. There was a gentleman trying to find homes for some kittens he had found. Karina took one look at a beautiful white kitten, named him Bodie and we took him home.


Karina, Bodie and I went to the pet store and bought all of the essentials. We joked about him being our first kid together. We took him home, gave him a bath (he stunk! It was a necessity) and showed him the lay of the land. I'm a little nervous about his health, we won't know how healthy he is until later this week when Karina takes him to the vet for his first time. I hope he is healthy...I think it would seal the deal of me never having a human child of my own if my new feline child doesn't make it!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

METALLICA Hotties

I took my friend Sarah to see Metallica last night for her birthday. Pretty much I'm the worlds greatest friend ever. Please do not think about asking what I had to do to get these tickets. I'm not proud of it, but I have faith that with some counseling and maybe some shock therapy, I'll eventually stop waking up screaming in the middle of the night. But I digress.

Sarah had the brilliant idea that we should dress up as 80's rockers. Since I am such a great friend I agreed. So we ratted our hair and used super strength hair sprayed, we put on fishnets and miniskirts, we used thick black eyeliner with purple and blue eyeshadow and way too much mascara. Oh yeah, we looked HOTTT! In fact we looked so Hot that we decided to go to dinner before the concert and take public transportation just so even MORE people could get a look at just how Hot we were.




We didn't end up staying for the whole concert. We came up with several reasons why it was OK to leave a little early, like Sarahs claw bangs were starting to get tired, we wanted to beat traffic, daylight savings was throwing us off, ass hole behind us spilled his beer on us, we are getting too old for this shit, etcetera, etcetera. Still it takes balls (or the female equivalent) to dress this hot and venture out into public like we did. But we're mavericks like that.


Blogfully yours,
Summer

Participating in History

I had originally planned to post about my Metallica experience, but I think that can wait a day. Yesterday was possibly one of the greatest days of my life. I woke up, got ready just like any other day, then I went in the rain to go vote. I was fortunate that there was not much of a line. I started to cry as I pushed the button to elect Barack Obama as our next president. Never in my life has an election meant so much to me. Never in my life have I cared as much or been so informed, or involved. I came to work with a sticker over my heart and a smile on my face.
I went to class after school and thank god for text messages and good friends who kept me updated as each state announced their results. At one point the teacher announced that Obama was ahead. One student grumbled and "oh no!" I looked over at him like he was an alien because that's about how much I can relate with non-Obama supporters. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, I guess I just forget sometimes that there are people out there who do not have the same as mine.
After class I got in the car and turned on NPR as I drove home. I picked up a salad from my favorite Greek restaurant and rushed home to watch as the results continued to come in.
I was sitting on my couch eating my salad, giving little pieces of chicken to my cat Aurora, when they announced that Barack Obama would be the next president. I screamed and started cheering. I'm sure my neighbors all heard me, but I didn't care. Let them hear me I thought!
I watched McCains graceful and well spoken speech. I watched President-elect Obama's powerful acceptance speech. I couldn't help but cry. This was a defining moment in history and I am so excited that it happened in my lifetime. There is a buzz in the air and it is infectious. I really feel that we CAN make a difference. My own personal efforts to do what I can to make this world a better place don't feel in vain any more. I have hope. I have pride for our country once again. I am looking forward to the future instead of fearing it. In short, Summer is a happy girl today!




Blogfully yours,
Summer

Single for the holidays blows

The time of year that all single women dread is coming up; "The Holidays."

I dwelled on this thought a little too long this weekend. I let my mind wander to the huge family Thanksgiving dinner as well as the Christmas celebrations with all of my relatives. The thought of being the only single one there, while my sisters and cousins all chase around their kids, makes me want to stay home and pull my fingernails out instead. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my family. I just don't know if I have the energy to fake a smile and say the obligatory lines of "yep, still single. No, not really seeing anyone either. Yes, one day I'm sure I will find him. Yes, I realize I'm not getting any younger. Here is some salt, can you please rub it in this open sore?" Smile and repeat with the next well intentioned relative who is just trying to be nice.

Then there are all of the work related parties and New Years. New Years! I haven't been single on New Years in over 10 years! Somebody shoot me now!

Of course I called up Karina The Russian to listen to me bitch.

Karina: "Summer, Christmas is not about being with someone with a cock and balls! It's about being with someone you love. I will be your date! You don't need a stupid man!"

Me: "Yeah but you are dating someone now so you are going to want to spend the holidays with him. Which I totally understand."

Karina: "No, he is not my family. YOU are my family. We will make cookies and drink wine and sit by the Christmas tree and stare at the beautiful lights!"


While I was fishing for sympathy, I also told Sarah how I woke up feeling really low. She told me next time I felt that way to drive over, climb in bed with her and we would watch movies and drink wine in bed.

Basically I've decided to quit bitching for the time being because really I'm incredibly blessed to have such amazing, beautiful, understanding, supportive friends who are always there. They get me. They understand that wine and friendship can get you through anything, including the holidays.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Being Jessica for the night

Halloween this year was a blast! The details of the night are a little hazy and honestly not really important. What is important is that everyone enjoyed themselves, we were safe and nothing bad happened. We laughed, we socialized, we met a lot of interesting and best of all, we took pictures!

Here are some shots of Jessica Rabbit (me), The Russian mail order bride (Karina), and "KO" the pink boxer (Staci).



To pull off the costume I did require a little bit of....um...."assistance" in the way of gloves rolled up and tucked under my bosoms to "enhance" them. I guess that was my trick and also my treat for everyone! Ha! I kill me sometimes!

Happy Halloween!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Simplifying homework

I spent my lunch break yesterday working on homework in the office conference room. Unfortunately my humanities teacher is confused, he seems to think he is teaching an art class. After every reading assignment we have to do an artistic interpretation of what we read. I do my best to be creative, but I am so not talented when it comes to art as is evident by my rendering of Buddha. For this weeks homework assignment, on top of the two artistic interpretations, we were supposed to draw our tree. Being the quick witted deligator that I am, I asked one of the designers at my work if he would be so kind as to take the crayons I brought with me and sketch me up a happy little tree.


Thank goodness he is also a student and with limited prodding, he was willing to humor me. I wonder how far I can push his charitable nature. Maybe I can work out a trade. I'll agree not to get him fired for peeing in the bosses coffee if he does all my homework! OK sure he'd never REALLY do that, and come to think of it my boss doesn't even drink coffee, but those are just minor details. I'm sure he'll see things my way. I can be quite intimidating you know.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Ignorance vs. loving and loosing

A friend of my commented to me tonight that "ignorance is bliss" which really got me thinking, IS ignorance really bliss? I won't lie, for a moment I was completely sold on the idea. But then the next obvious cliche line came to mind; "it is far better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all." Is that painful statement true? Which one is more accurate?

In my short life time I have loved and I have lost, over and over again. Each time I learn a lesson and I chalk it up to building character and forming me into the person I am today, but, I fear that after every breakup I become more and more jaded.

Outside my apartment there was a couple fighting. I couldn't hear what the fight was about but it aided in my further reflection on past relationships. I have been in some where yelling came standard. I have been in one where if I dared to raise my voice I was met only with silence. Fighting, or rather, heated discussions, can have the tendency to make you feel alive. To have someone who evokes that much passion in you, to make you feel strongly one way or another, to actually feel the fire raise up inside you until you blow, is...something. Not necessarily good, but something. If nothing else it means you care enough to be upset. The reason this is of significance is because I have also been in relationships where that fire never existed, where I never cared enough to get upset. Truly, to know happiness you must know sorrow. You will never appreciate pleasure without having experienced pain. So where is the happy medium?

Sometimes I begrudge all of the pain that my search for love has caused me. I am, of course, no saint and have caused my share of pain along the way. I feel it is only natural to wish none of it had ever happened at all, that I had never felt a broken heart, had never cried myself to sleep, that I never knew the regret of loosing someone I truly cared about. Deep down I crave love, just as I am sure so many of you do, but I also fear it. Sometimes I feel it is easier to just keep my heart guarded and locked away. If you never let anyone in, you can never get hurt, right? But even that is not true because you hurt yourself in the process.

Honestly I don't have any answers. Maybe if I did I wouldn't be writing this post instead of finishing my math homework. But I wanted to put down my thoughts before I lost them and decided it wasn't worth revisiting again...because reflection hurts. It may help you grow, but it stings in the process.

Your comments on the subject are welcome here. Don't hold back.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

"I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way"

I spent my Sunday afternoon helping prepare my friends house for 2008's largest Halloween house party. To date there have been over 200 people RSVP. Fortunately the basement of the house holding the party is not finished so we were able to really get creative. I helped paint the Alice In Wonderland room, complete with stripes, polka dots and astro-turf flooring. I am getting VERY excited for this party.

So what am I going to be? As many of you have guessed from my clues, I will be Jessica Rabbit this Halloween. For those of you scratching your head like "who is
that", she is the wife of Roger Rabbit in Who Framed Roger Rabbit and is also pictured below.


Obviously she is a cartoon so there is no way to replicate her exactly but I have all the pieces to be the human version of the redheaded temptress. In fact Friday night Karina and I even watched the Roger Rabbit movie to watch her mannerisms and study her makeup. Our favorite line (besides the blog title, of course):

Jessica: "You don't know how hard it is to be a woman looking the way I do."

Valiant: "You don't know how hard it is to be a man looking at a woman looking the way you do."

Needless to say, I will be channeling my inner diva this Halloween to get the sass and confidence needed to pull off this costume. I think next year I'm going to go as something boring, maybe a cat or a pumpkin or Sarah Pallin. This costume is turning into more work then I thought.


Blogfully yours,
Summer

Awarded

Yesterday I received my first blogging award. I had read about people getting awards from different sites but never really followed what exactly that meant. This particular award, The Kreativ Blogger Award, was given to me by Kendal over at Confessions of an Odd Duck. There is no nominating comities, it is simply one persons opinion on which blogs they feel deserve to be recognized and those people nominate more people and the love is spread. I am honored that The Odd Duck felt Blogfully Yours was worthy of an award.

So the only stipulations of the award are the you must write 6 things that you love and then pass the award on to 6 people.

Things I love...

1. Family & Friends. I have the good fortune of being very close with my family and I do not take that for granted. I am blessed with amazing friends who are always there for me and are, essentially, extensions of my family. I would be lost without them.
2. Coffee. The smell, the taste, the feeling of coming alive as I drink it throughout the morning. It's a part of my daily routine that brings me pleasure.
3. Hiking & Nature. There is nothing that make me feel more grounded then getting out into nature. I love to spend time in the mountains. It takes me away from the stresses of life and puts everything into perspective for me.
4. Being Challenged. Boredom is not my friend, it is my nemesis. I like to stay busy and I am constantly looking for new ways to challenge myself. Be it school, dating, work or projects. I may complain about being overwhelmed with so much to do, but the truth is I strive off of it.
5. Small Victories. Recognizing the little things that come my way and celebrating them. Today someone bought me a cup of coffee, yesterday I found out that 17 countries read my blog, I got 100% on my last math test...little things that deserve to be celebrated.
6. Laughing. I'm not sure how to expand on this. I love to laugh. One way to capture my heart, as a friend, as a lover, is to make me laugh.

For my 6 nominees to pass this award on to, I would like to acknowledge that most of them will not re-post and I want you to know I completely understand. Most of them I am sure have received numerous awards so this will not be as big of a deal to them as it is to me.

My first awards go to Caveat Emptor, Wind in Your Vagina, and Jenny the Bloggess as they all inspire me with their writing and make me laugh. My fourth award goes to Sarah Nielson who has become not only my blogging mentor, but also my firend. My fifth and sixth awards go to Doni in the City and The Kel who are my long distant blogging friends and continue to make me smile on a daily basis with their witty posts and hilarious tweets.

Much love to you all!

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Lunchtime quickie

I decided to come home for lunch today and had 2 wonderful surprises waiting for me. The first was a note on my door from UPS saying I had a package at the office building of my apartment. The second was another package sitting on my balcony delivered by the post office which was a little weird because I live in a middle level apartment so the mail delivery person would of had to throw the package up to get it on my balcony, but whatever. 2 packages in one day!
The first package ended up being the boy scout popcorn I ordered from Black Hockey Jesus' son Jackson. It's caramel nutty goodness has me on a sugar high that I will be riding throughout the day. The second package was 3 pairs of pants I ordered on-line at Alloy. Some of you may be thinking "pants, whats the big deal?" Well it is a very big deal when you are a 6 ft tall woman with incredibly long legs. Pants are hard to come by! So of course I strip down in my living room and try them on and guess what? They all fit perfect! No need to send any back.
So I'm sitting here eating a home made turkey burrito writing this little post with a smile on my face. I don't think anyone can accuse me of being hard to please. I've gotta remember to start coming home for lunch more often!

Blogfully yours,
Summer