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