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