Ooo la la!

I read once that Washington D.C. is "Hollywood for ugly people".

Apparently that is not the case with Paris and French Cinema.

Check out the new President of France, Nicolas Sarkozy


He looks like he just dropped off the set of Oceans 13.

And his family looks pretty much like a casting call at the CW.

The two older boys are his from a first marriage, the girls are his wife Cecelia's from HER first marriage and the little one is theirs together.

Sarko is only 52 and has made some pretty grand promises about what he plans to do as President. His campaign was about "a France that gets up early" (what a roast on France that google asked me " did you mean a Frances that GIVES up early?") and he has plans to get unemployment and the delightful French tradition of striking every five minutes under control.

I say we watch this guy for the next year or so and if things are looking up for France, we should elect our own President based on whoever looks the best in a Prada suit.

What a Fool Believes

In ninth grade I used to babysit for the Stewart's nearly every weekend. They were the best to tend for because their kids were totally adorable and always went to bed on time. They would leave soda and microwave popcorn for babysitters and they paid well. After the kids were down for the night I would take advantage of unfettered access to a CD collection. I didn't get a CD player of my own until my senior year so it was such a thrill to be able to SKIP songs or put my favorites on REPEAT.

I discovered quite a few musicians through the Stewart's music. I fell head over heels with Harry Connick Jr at their house, I broadened my George Michael knowledge, I got to know some Bonnie Raitt...but by far their greatest contribution to my life was a deep and abiding love for Kenny Loggins. I realize this admission may destroy all the musical credibility I have built up over the years but I'm actually serious. This isn't some ironic affection, I legitimately listened to "Leap of Faith" in it's entirely (because I eventually had to buy the tape so I could listen at my own house) almost every single day of my sophomore year.

I was planning to write a snarky post about this series of funny videos my friend showed me on YouTube the other day that poke a little fun at the late 1970's Southern California "Yacht Rock" of Kenny Loggins and Micheal McDonald and the like. And maybe one of these days I will post one of them but tonight I got a little distracted and sad when I started googling the legendary Mr. Loggins to get a little more info for this post.

One of my favorite songs on "Leap of Faith" was one called "The Real Thing" which Loggins wrote for his children to explain why he and their mother were divorcing. In retrospect I guess it's funny that I was so drawn to that particular song. At that age my parents getting a divorce seemed as likely as a unicorn showing up in my bedroom but I used to play that song over and over and cry and cry. I was sort of comforted by the fact that Loggins had remarried and had two more children and he and his new wife had this sort of over the top and nauseating but still lovely relationship. They even put out a book of marital advice. Which was again, sort of over the top and nauseating. So I was sad to read that apparently he and Julia separated a few years ago after fifteen years together. And he has two ridiculously sad songs-one to her and one to his oldest son-about how much he misses their relationships. It's quite a devastating discovery for a Tuesday night.

But it sort of ties in with this thing I've thinking about lately regarding being an adult. It's a lot freakin' harder than I thought when growing up seemed to mean getting to stay up late and drive a car. Didn't we all assume that the adults in our lives had all the answers? Instead I feel like the more I understand and the more I "grow up", the more complicated and confusing life can be. Because sometimes life is this:

People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one, and we've just begun,
Think I'm gonna have a son.
He will be like she and me, as free as a dove, conceived in love,
Sun is gonna shine above.

And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes,
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

and sometimes it is like this

I did it for you, and the boys,
Because love should teach you joy,
And not the imitation,
That your momma and daddy tried to show you.
I did it for you, and for me
And because I still believe,
There's only one thing,
That you can never give up,
Never compromise on,
And that's the real thing you need in love

The only answer to the confusion that I can come up with is to find something-and for me it's faith-that can be a constant in the midst of so much uncertainty. So that death and heartbreak and disappointment can only shake you to a point. I'm trying not to ask for less to deal with, but for more patience and faith to get through the stuff that I sincerely believe makes you a better person than always getting everything you think you want.

So instead of making fun, I am going to end with a memory of a moment that was clear and good for both Kenny and me. The summer after my junior year of high school, all the planets aligned and I ended up at a Kenny Loggins concert in Park City with the ward boy I had loved from the minute his family moved in from Boston. It was at an outdoor venue and the weather was beautiful and the boy was perfect and the crowd was l-o-v-i-n-g the Loggins. At the time he had a new wife, a couple babies and a hit record. I'll bet he was on top of the world. I bet we both made a lot of plans that summer about how our lives would "end up". A lot has changed since then but I hope somewhere out there Kenny's current life is as rich and satisfying as mine has been. Even if the universe has a way of interupting our best laid plans.

Here is a Kenny Loggins classic. Enjoy.
What a Fool Believes

Another Day in Paradise

This weekend didn't suck.

This just in

OK, apparently NBC is not as dumb as I like to think. Not only are they renewing Friday Night Lights for next season but they are showing it over again this summer so people who missed it the first time around can GET IT!

So go take a look at this promo which features part of one of my favorite Julie-Coach T conversations and then set your Tivo to NBC on Sunday, May 27 at 9:00 p.m. (that's 8 p.m. for you Utah folks)

I love this show.

Fix You

I know a lot of people like to hate Coldplay. I have heard they called "U2 Lite" more times than I can count.
No matter, I happen to like them quite a bit.

Anyway, I was looking for some nice soothing music after a somewhat emotional day and I settled on this. I forgot how beautiful it is and how comforting the lyrics are. I heard that Chris Martin wrote this for his lovely wife Gwyneth Paltrow. How wonderful to inspire these kind of feelings in someone:

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
when you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you



Happy Memorial Day everyone. See you next week!

Tell me why

Someone asked me today why I blog. The question made me feel defensive for some reason and I gave a hurried answer along the lines of "because."

But I've been thinking about it all day, trying to articulate to myself why I do this. I have more reasons than you probably have the patience to read so I'll just give you the most compelling.

1. I am a writer. I may not do it professionally but it's as much a part of me as my brown eyes or my size 7 feet. Even if there were no internet I would still write. My post about Boston from yesterday? Yeah, not a blog post. Just a thing I wrote because that is the thing I love to do more than anything on the planet. My computer is full of half-written pieces that I may or may not finish but had to get out. The backs of church programs, work notebooks, hotel message pads-I will write things down anywhere I find a blank space. With or without a reader, I am a writer. Having a place where maybe a few folks get to see what comes out of my head from time and time and even like it now and then is just sort of icing on a cake I was already going to make.

2. This is not a journal. Trust me, I still keep a handwritten journal and it is not something the world ever has to worry about seeing. I do like to write personal things here but there is a difference between things that are personal and things that are private. There is plenty of stuff I don't think is appropriate to post in a public forum and I am careful about what ends up here. I don't complain about my job and try to only talk about work in general or vague terms. What I say here is always genuine, but I try very hard not to cross the line into giving too much information. (my sister says the bikini wax post did indeed go too far but that's still one of my favorites!)I would never post anything that I wouldn't mind getting back to my boss or to my mother which I think keeps me pretty safe.

3.Blogging keeps me connected. I had a roommate who used to tease that some people collect stamps but I collect people. I feel incredibly blessed, and sometimes almost embarassed, at the sheer volume of quality friends I have made over the last 30 years. I love having a way to stay connected to them. I love that even though it can be so hard to keep up on phone calls or emails, I can go read about my cousin's kids or my friend Kelly's job search or Betsy and Rebecca's awesome adventures anytime I have a free moment. It's nice to be able to talk about things that are happening in our lives beyond the "hey how are things-good and you-good-gotta run" conversations that are often all we have time for.

4. I believe that communication is powerful. I believe that sharing experiences and ideas with others is part of the reason we have those experiences in the first place. I have been moved by the things I've read on other blogs-whether those of a good friend or those of someone once removed. I've been following a blog written by a woman whose mother died of cancer. Her writing is beautiful and inspiring and I feel lucky and a little humbled that she's letting us into this part of her life. A few weeks ago I wrote something that led to a conversation with my own mother that I've been wanting to have for years but never knew how to start.

5 And finally, how awesome is it that because of tools like Blogger and YouTube and MySpace I can read and watch and listen to a whole myriad of things I never would have been exposed to fifteen years ago? I am madly in love with the idea that what I read and watch is no longer controlled by a few networks, publishers and record labels.

So there are my top five reasons for my raging blog addiction. Like anything, I can blogs can be good and blogs can be bad. I guess I feel lucky that my own experience has been overwhelmingly positive.

Many of you have blogs...what are yours?

Flashback

*for a variety of reasons, I spent a lot of time alone and in my head this weekend. I went on a two hour run on Saturday and came home desperate to find this piece I wrote in the Spring of 2005. I'm posting it now to remind myself of a few things...

"Chalk it up to spring fever I suppose but I fell in love this weekend. It’s been coming on for about a week now but Sunday night I came to the conclusion that I am madly, wildly, passionately in love with Boston.

I moved here two months ago and pretty much from the moment I stepped off the plane I folded my arms defiantly and dared this place to impress me. Completely obnoxious I realize but that’s what happens when you move out of California. It’s not that people there don’t realize there are 49 other states, they just don’t care.

It wasn’t really love at first sight there either. I had a romanticized notion of what it would be like to pick up and move to a brand new city all by myself. Going to church didn’t turn out to yield the instant circle of friends I imagined it would, I hated my job so much I would call my mother in the middle of the day and sob into the phone, just finding time to go for the runs that normally clear my head was an exercise in frustration and so I gave them up completely. I was lonely and depressed and felt like an utter failure. But then as I slowly quit resenting California for not being the same as the life I left behind and used the time on my own to find out what I was like when there was no one around to impress, I found I was falling for my new home. And although beach bonfires and daily runs along the water, lazy Saturday morning breakfasts at the sugar shack and long drives down PCH could easily be mistaken for the things that seduced me, I’m convinced it was the shedding of an old skin, being forced to overcome long held fears, the willingness to keep trying when it really did look pointless…to me that’s the definition of true love.

Which brings me to this weekend. It wasn’t really anything terribly spectacular. We had a party Friday night and it was fun. I went for a long run on Saturday morning, that night we went to the movies, Sunday was a low-key birthday gathering with a rousing game of Apples to Apples. It was just a weekend. But I was just me. I wasn’t in “I have to impress these people mode.” I was the version of me I got to know in California and was worried wouldn’t quite make it here. Friday night a partygoer and I bonded over the obscure book he noticed on my nightstand, I managed to survive three of the nastiest hills Beacon Hill has to offer and Saturday night I got to play with a friend who is every bit the kindred spirit I told everyone I was sure I would never find in this place. It’s not hard to love Boston itself. It’s a beautiful, vibrant city stuffed to the gills with art and music and food and culture-but loving it for those reasons is like having a crush on the star quarterback. That’s as obvious as straight white teeth and six pack abs. But loving the potential for personal growth and fulfillment in Boston…that’s like falling for the skinny kid in your art class who makes jokes you don’t quite get and makes you CD’s full of stuff you’ve never heard of.

I don’t know how long this particular affair will last…I can already see that Boston’s truly appalling winters and the distance from my family will eventually be wedges that drive us apart. But it seems cowardly not to allow myself this chance at romance just because the potential for breakup is certain. It took splitting up with California to show me how well prepared I was for the next one…"

Reality Check

It's been an emotional week folks.

Rory got a job and left really suddenly, Luke and Lorelie finally got together, JD and Eliot might be hooking up and Jim left New York and drove straight back to Scranton when he realized that he wanted Pam in his ten year plan. Oh, and George failed his intern exam.

If you can't tell, I'm talking about season/series finale week on television. I'm not sure why but I was particularly affected by so many of them so I've spent a fair amount of time on the couch in tears the last few days.

No I do know why-because I really love television. I think I actually like it better than movies. I love meeting a new set of characters every season and then getting to know them over the years. I enjoy the process of getting attached to these people and feeling invested in their choices. I think it's because I love that in my real life as well. I love to listen to people, I like to ask them questions, I like to know things about their lives-even little insignificant details. Television is a perfect storytelling medium for someone who loves people. I have been a voracious reader ever since I was a kid but I always miss good characters when I finish a book.

I was watching an episode of Friday Night Lights earlier this season and it was after one of the big games that the team managed to win in the last few plays. The show closes on a real high note, with all the boys hugging their parents and being so happy and excited. And I thought-if this were a movie, this is all we would get-a happily ever after. But I loved knowing that the next week I was going to get to see what happened after the game. When the victory wore off and real life crept back in again. TV characters get married, they have babies, they change jobs, they graduate, they make new friends, sometimes they even die. At the risk of sounding like a complete nerd-a well written character feels like a real friend. So when a show ends, or when something major happens as is usually the case on a season finale, I tend to get emotional about it.

I was sad to see the Gilmore Girls go. I was kind of a late comer to the show but it was full of personalities I loved and will miss. I look back at a lot of the shows I've been attached to over the years-Friends, Party of Five, Felicity,Arrested Development, The OC-and I still laugh or cry with them in reruns, something reminds me of one of the characters or a particular plot line will show up in my own life and I'll think "hmmm, what advice would Felicity's counselor have given her?" I think that's the mark of good art of any kind. When it leaves a little bit of itself with you.

So I'm not even going to apologize for rewinding the Jim and Pam moment at the end of The Office last night. If it had happened to a friend I'm sure I would have said "OK wait, tell me again? What did he say EXACTLY? And what were his exact facial expressions?"

I love TV.

Birds on a Wire

I think you all know that I LOVE the internet. Well one of the things I love is when the internet sends me things. A couple of weeks ago I was looking at Cindy's paper cutting blog and I came upon some awesome Thank You cards she designed. Fortunately, she wasn't just trying to make everyone jealous by showing how talented she is, but she's actually selling them. So I sent my little check and look what showed up

I don't really know why but I am totally obsessed with birds sitting on wires. There is a lightpole by my office that is always full of birds and I have taken about 45 photos of them for no good reason. So I am in love with these cards. And I loved the very elegant way the envelope was addressed too. I guess that's what happens when a designer sends you something. People are lucky if they can even read their own names when I send a package : )

Anyway, there are some other really beautiful things on Cindy's site you should go check out. Like these Wild Swans that I can't stop looking at. There are some super talented folks out there...

Spring Break

I did something last week that I almost never do.

I took a last minute trip to Utah!. All the planets aligned for me to go home and surprise my mom for Mother's Day. I had to do it last minute because I am really, really bad at keeping secrets like this. I think three days is pretty much my limit.

It also worked out for me to run with most of our Wasatch Back Team on Saturday morning. We met at Memory Grove for a nice easy (yeah right!) five miler over to the Salt Lake Cemetery. As Logan and Kristin pulled up they saw us taking pictures and Logan starting posing the second he got out of the car.

So here we are pre-run. Before the altitude and the beating sun took it's toll on all of us. The best part of this photo is that my own mother and sister thought the black clad runner in the front, the one that is ME, was my BROTHER Christopher. Who is quite clearly the guy in the orange shirt. I know my chest is small but come on you guys.

We took off in a little pack up the trail and immediately Logan, Kristin, and Tom got way ahead of us, Katie and Mike and Christopher were next and then sea lungs me and pregnant Tasha brought up the rear. I found myself getting really homesick as we went. I love being with my family and our close friends. It is always like taking a whole bunch of squirting hoses and trying to control them when more than two of us are together. Watching our little gang snake up the hill toward the Avenues I just wished this was a regular Saturday outing and not a special treat. When I came around the bend at the top of City Creek that looks out over the whole valley I almost started to cry. I ended up having to walk quite a bit and when we got up to Eleventh Ave, Christopher and Tasha and I spent the next mile or so discussing the houses along the way. So much of the Salt Lake suburbs have devolved into cookie cutter McMansion but there is still a lot of character in the Avenues. We picked out our favorites and I imagined it would be like for all our kids to play together.

We all came back sort of wasted.
Logan

Christopher

Tom

Mike and Katie
Kristin
Tasha refused to be photographed and I'm in charge here so I'm not posting anything else where I look like a boy!
Afterwards we headed to Noodles and Company to meet up with Elizabeth and my pops.

My SMILING dad!

Elizabeth has a habit of leaving a drawing on a napkin when we go out. This is a straight edge noodle if you can't tell.

And then it was off to Kaysville to surprise my mother! Tom and Elizabeth told her they had picked up her Mother's Day present at the Post Office and then opened the van door and my mom freaked out. It is really, really fun to surprise people. Like really crazy fun. I like anticipating a visit as much as anyone but there is something extra fun about just showing up. We had interrupted my mom and Greg doing some landscaping in their new yard. Another thing I didn't get from my mother is her love of the yard. I wouldn't even know where to start. But they are doing some beautiful things and it's terribly impressive that they are doing it themselves.

Tom and Elizabeth did some homework.
It was so nice to be home without an agenda. We goofed around and talked and ate. Work has been crazy and a little stressful lately so it was just fine with me to chill out a little.

The next day we went to church, which was crawling with married girls my age with three or four kids and which frankly freaked me out a little bit. But not as much as Elizabeth DRIVING home. I realize she's old enough. It just doesn't feel possible that my little baby sister can drive. A car. But I'm excited for her. Getting a drivers license is one of the best days of your life.

I guess maybe we look a little bit alike.

Then Logan and Kristin came and Logan gave my mom a good Mother's Day mauling. He might have cracked a rib or two but you can't doubt the kid's love and enthusiasm.

Awwww.

Then it was time to go pick up Emily from the airport. She had been in Armenia for a week and again, I thought it would be fun to surprise her. It was sort of an emotional trip and I wanted to be there to hear about in person. Neither Em nor my mom really wanted photos taken last night but this is an illustrated story so here they are anyway!

I stayed with Em last night and we stayed up sort of late and then I got up at an absurd hour to fly home.

So today I'm tired and a little homesick. I think a good run and a decent night's sleep will really do some good!

Lime KA-POW

I remember very few things about kindergarten. But for some reason I do remember the day some kid in class brought his baby niece for show and tell. Our teacher, Mrs. Murray, asked who else in the class had a niece or a nephew. Well this was Utah, the land of gigantic families with longs spans between children so quite a few hands went up. Including mine. To which my teacher said, “Miss Katie, you are the oldest in y our family so I don’t think you have any yet.” I remember being a little embarrassed about being called out must mostly disappointed that having a niece or nephew wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Well it was a twenty five year wait but these two good lookin’ kids are finally having the first Clifford grandbaby.
After my initial and selfish reaction of “does this mean Tasha is dropping off the Wasatch Back Team???” I have been BURSTING to tell everyone about our soon-to-be Clifflet. Apparently right now it’s the size of a lime.

Now I understand that people have been having babies for thousands and thousands of years, that there are millions of babies being born right this second in fact, and so there is nothing special or unusual about yet another one.

But.

It’s the first one for us. And as I have discovered with so many experiences in my life-this may have already happened a billion times to a billion people but it will feel totally new and unique when it’s happening to our family.

This baby will be the first grandchild on both sides and comes into a family with lots of aunts, uncles and grandparents. It’s almost obscene how much attention baby cliff will get. When I talked to my brother Sterling, his first comment was, “the race starts now for favorite aunt or uncle.”

Aunt Katie. Gives me the same little rush in my tummy I get on a roller coaster. Or maybe baby cliff won’t be able to say my name right for a few years and I’ll be assigned a nickname that will no doubt end up on a t-shirt. I can't wait to feed it too much sugar, send toys that make annoying noises and let it stay up too late when I babysit. I'm thrilled to finally have stories about what adorable thing my little niece/nephew said.

I’m excited to watch Christopher and Tasha become parents. One of the best parts about getting in-laws has been seeing a new side of brothers I’ve known my entire life. Not only they have both brought wonderful women into our family, but they are also kind, tender, strong, patient, ambitious, fun husbands. It will be so fun to see the little boy who used to carry classical music tapes around and was afraid of the moon be called “daddy.”

But mostly I’m just excited to meet this little person. I can’t wait to see what parts will be Clifford and which parts will be Archuletta and which parts will be brand new.

This is one lucky little lime.

Blog Stalker

One of my favorite things about the blog world is to follow the links on a friend's blog and discovering entire new worlds of people. I sort of thought maybe I was the only weirdo blog stalker out there until I started getting comments here on Replikate from folks I didn't know. It thrills me to my toes when I get to make new connections with other bloggers.

When Replikate had it's first birthday, I have a present to two readers. One of them turned out to be a blogger in Las Vegas who I'm pretty sure I need to be friends with.

So please join me in getting to know La Belle Dame Sans Regret. Because we can all use a new blog to stalk!

Irrational fear

I have had three true recurring dreams in my life. One was the "i'm home from my mission and insisting I didn't finish but everyone tells me I did" dream that started in the MTC and continued through my mission. They always felt incredibly real and I was often quite disappointed to wake up and discover I was still in my missionary twin bed. The next one started a few months after i got home and is the "somehow I am BACK on my mission despite the fact that I really did finish" dream. The last one has been haunting me since college. The "I've married/am just about to marry the wrong person" dream.

The mission dreams are interesting, and I'm sure somewhere in my brain there is a reason for them. But they are harmless. The marriage dreams, however, are really starting to worry me. I had the first one in college, and the boy in it was my brand new first boyfriend (I know, I am a later bloomer in just about everything which is a subject for another post). I guess I don't have to tell you how long that relationship ultimately lasted. Over the years the "groom" has ranged from a complete stranger, to a boy I have a crush on, to random boys I know in whom I have no interest. The common thread is that they always start on the actual wedding day, I never have any idea how or why I said yes to this person and I always spend the entire dream feeling sick and disappointed.

Sometimes they are sort of funny. One ended with the boy picking me after the reception in a monster truck and me thinking, "forget my own inability to say no-how badly did my friend/family safety net have to fail to allow me to marry a monster truck owner???". Sometimes they are pathetic. I had one dream where I was in the temple, realized I couldn't go through with it and went to tell the boy only to discover him in a closet with one of my bridesmaids. When I finally wake up from these, I am incredibly relieved to be alone with an empty ring finger.

I don't know where I picked up this fear and why it so loves to play itself out in my subconscious. My mother has gotten too many phone calls over the years that begin with, "I don't have to marry so and so do I???" I have a habit of fixating on someone I am not interested in and then worrying for weeks and months that I'll probably accidently end up with him. Even when I say it aloud I realize how absurd it sounds but it's like the dreams serve as little bits of proof that it's where I'm headed.

So I cling to this. When you leave your mission your President always gives you some parting advice. I think it's usually to hurry up and get married. But mine looked me in the eye and said, "marriage isn't a service project, it's one of just a few decisions that should be totally selfish."

Which I didn't take to mean-you have to marry a perfect person. I just think it means that I get to be excited about it. I get to choose. I only have to marry a monster truck guy if for some reason I've fallen in love with him. Seems unlikely but hey, you should have seen some of the crushes I had in college.

I did have one dream once where I was engaged and so happy I was telling everyone. Didn't get a good look at the fiance though. I'm hoping that means he's out there somewhere.

Adventure Day

My friends Kersten and Tai were in LA over the weekend. So my friend Greg and I met up with them for some adventures.

Lunch at The Farmer's Market

A pre-fab housing exhibit at the Pacific Design Center


Checking out shops on Melrose and Third Street

(this platter reads: sorry to appear insistent but I must have my trinkets. This is the last chance. You can buy random crap in LA.)

Dinner at a place all LA boys should put on their list of "ways to impress ladyfriends"" and then delicious dessert that I am now totally obsessed with.
But really the best part of any adventure day is that I have the greatest friends on the planet. We talk about all kinds of interesting things and even if we are just counting how many six figure cars pass in an hour (in LA that hour will pass absurdly quickly), we are having way more fun than anyone else.

Heatstroke

Today it was really hot in California. Which means it was still really warm tonight. So after my run, and after my roommate used me as a personal training guinea pig (which I am very excited about!), Corey and Sara and I went to Beach Berry and ate frozen yogurt outside by the beach.

It felt like this.

Warm summer nights. Few things get me as excited. And I'm an excitable gal.

I am normally a nice person

But I'll admit to feeling just a twinge of "Yes! Justice!" at the news that Paris Hilton will be spending some time in jail for driving with a suspended license. Mostly because her excuses were all along the line of "I'm way too busy and important to be bothered with silly concerns like obeying the law."

Driving to work today I heard that the judge in the case, Michael Sauer, recieved a standing ovation at church yesterday for handing down her sentence.

Maybe we could just put ALL the annoying attention seeking celebs in jail for 45 days and see how easily we forget about them.

Makeover!

Thanks a million to Guest Blogger Amy over at Design Mom who posted easy to follow directions on how to make your own blog banner. I've been terribly envious of those blogs that have some fun personal touches on them but never knew how to do any of my own. Since this little blog has come to be one of my favorite places to be, I figured it was high time to start rearranging the furniture.

Happy weekend everyone!

Steep AND Cheap

A couple of weeks ago my friend Kimberly told me about a website that sells outdoor equipment at ridiculous discounts. Their hook is that they only sell one thing at a time, and it's pretty random. It can be sunglasses, watches, tents, shoes, heart monitors, board shorts-you just never know. They have tons of stock and they just sell it until it's gone.

Well I hate to pay full retail for anything so I was pretty stoked to find this site. You can also sign up for the daily email which comes every night and tells you what the first deal will be the next morning. I probably end up opening the email once a week or so but more often than not I just trash it without even looking at it. Until about a week ago when I actually read the copy...

The biggest problem with movies that take place in the future is their soundtracks. They either have to predict what kind of music people will listen to in the future, which usually amounts to some kind of lazer disc playing high-pitched screeching sounds, or they need to have a bunch of hippie holdouts who still rock to 60's tunes. Not that it ruins the movie, I can't remember a single song from Blade Runner but I still think it's great. Futuristic movies mostly use orchestra background and synthesized music, which is probably why I think keyboard-guitars will eventually have to come back into vogue.

Wait what? That has absolutely nothing to do with the K2 skis they were advertising. But I liked it. So when I got the next one, I was interested to see what it said.

It started raining during my run today. It's not such a bad thing, but the lightning bothers me a bit. I run around a lake with plenty of things besides me for lightning to hit, but I started thinking about my brother-in-law's dad who was stuck about 30 years ago. He was an aluminum fence salesman at the time, which should send up some red flags, and he was trying to make a sale to a young couple in a rainstorm. He said that lying on his back in the rain is the first thing he remembers. The second is thinking, "Where did that couple go that I was talking to?" Apparently they bugged out like Carl Spackler when Bishop Bickering got hit.

Are you kidding me? They just write some goofy paragraph about whatever and slap it in the email??

Genius.

Because now I am addicted. Check out this gem from last night:

I saw a guy who's blind beat the first two stages of Super Mario Brothers in an online video today, and it inspired me to play the game after I finished work. I've never beaten Super Mario before, but I've also never drawn inspiration from online videos, so I figured it was appropriate. I made it to World 8-2, which is the best I've ever done after being hamstrung on World 8-1 for awhile. I just wish I could find the gun for Duck Hunt.

They've got me eagerly anticipating the story, and thus almost always clicking onto the site to check out the deal.

I think I have a crush on you funny, sporty, marketing savvy Steep and Cheap email guy.

ACK!

When I was younger I think I had a picture in my mind of what a single LDS woman over the age of 30 looked like. Like the comic strip Cathy. You know, unidentifiable bland career, prefers chocolate to men and shoe shopping to exercise, slightly fashion challenged, middle of the road cultural taste, fairly asexual Cathy. I pictured her having lots of “Girls Night IN!” weekends with her other single friends where they ate ice cream and cried over chick flicks while discussing pets and scrapbooking projects.

I’m not saying that was an accurate perception but that’s sort of what I imagined would have to be the case in order to actually BE a single LDS woman over the age of 30. Because if you were fun and interesting and sexy and cool and smart and fit then you certainly wouldn’t still be on the market. I imagined myself graduating, going on a mission, starting a career and getting married around 25 or 26. That would give me loads of time to have adventures of my own, develop a sense of self, and be ready to start thinking about babies or whatever. And oddly enough, even as I creeped past 25 and 26, in my mind, I was still way more 23 than 28 so again, I was in no danger of becoming Cathy.

So maybe you can imagine some of the mixed feelings I had on Friday night when I found myself attending the “Midsingles” Conference my church was having here in HB. I feel the need to stress that I would never have traveled to go to such a thing. 800 people did and bully for them, but a weekend of church sponsored fun aimed strictly at 27 to 40 year old single Mormons is not at the top of my list of how to burn frequent flyer miles. But my roommate was on the planning committee and some old friends were in town for the festivities so I sucked up my pride and went over. And OK yes, I had fun. They did a great job transforming the church into dance hall/coffee shop/tiki room/chill lounge single-pallooza. I ran into some out of towners I hadn’t seen in awhile, there were a bunch of OC kids I don’t hang out with enough that I got to talk to and maybe just maybe I managed to do some flirting with some cute Vegas boys. But all night I had a sort of vague feeling of uneasiness that while there were certainly loads of cool kids at this party-this is Cathy’s territory. And I’m having a tough time getting it into my head that this is in fact, MY demographic now.

The next day my friend Seth from Manhattan came to stay at our temporary hostel and he and I went to lunch. He is a boy who is willing to talk for hours about relationships without getting bored or lame so I took full advantage and we had a very interesting chat about being our age and single in this particular culture and some of the challenges (sex) and advantages. It was a good talk. We met up with friends on the beach and then a small group of us ditched the pre-assigned conference groups and went to dinner on our own. We went to the activity that night but it seemed like the excitement from the night before had worn off a little. So I went with another friend to see a band play and then we hit a party in Newport Beach I would normally have skipped. And when we got there I knew exactly why I usually hate those parties but why that night it was the perfect way to end the day. Too many people to move? Check. Really young, really scantily clad girls? Check. Guys my age flirting with them? Check. Cute Vegas Boys from the conference flirting with us? Check. Other 30 something females who don’t fit the Cathy mold rolling their eyes at each other over loud music but secretly really liking it? Check. Feeling like I’d rather just live my life and spend time with the people I enjoy and trust that God is smart enough to let Mr. Awesome and I find each other without having to be on edge about it all the time and without our Church leaders freaking out about it too? Double check.

I might have lived enough years to be Cathy but I really internalized something we talk about a lot at work when we are identifying our consumer. Age absolutely is a number. There are 22 year old women who have given up. There are 45 year old women who will wear you right out with what they are still discovering. I get to pick how “old” I’m going to be.

And that’s why I’m choosing not to ever call myself a “midsingle”.

Impulse

I woke up yesterday feeling a little under the weather so I didn't go to work. Or get out of my bed until about 5. My friend Farrah was kind enough to deliver some Del Taco to me so I literally didn't have to move most of the day. I did do some work from home though and while I was working, I got an email from the Spa where I had a massage right after my half marathon. So in a rare display of impulse pampering that doesn't include $10 pedicures, I called and booked a full-body treatment.

So I'm laying there on the table, and it's nice and warm and the lights are low and the music is soothing and the massage therapist is asking me a few questions about where I'd like her to concentrate-it all felt quite lovely. I told her my back and shoulders have been stiff and sore lately so let's spend most of our time there.

She starts with my arms, it feels great, I'm relaxed. And then she starts on my back and I'm not kidding you, she says, OUT LOUD, "oh dear!" to which I reply, "yeah, i have a few knots in there." "Uh, yeah. Seriously. What have you been doing???"

Good question, what HAVE I been doing?

Well running alot. So that explains a little. Clenching my shoulders over the "check engine" light in my car everytime I drive but somehow not making time to take it in, staring at the ceiling for half an hour before I fall asleep wondering if all the statistics about conception being harder after 30 are true, rereading the underlined portions of Mountains Beyond Mountains and trying to figure out why on earth I still haven't mailed in my Big Sister application, having three dreams in the last month regarding marriage where I wake up totally relieved that they weren't real and I didn't actually go through with something that felt wrong, wondering how my sea level lungs will do in a mountain race, wondering if I'll ever stop being sad that my parents are divorced, consistently forgetting the four wedding presents I am behind on, fearing that my computer is going to die the very month I finally paid it off, thinking about the expense reports I haven't finished only at times I am nowhere near them. And believe it or not, I STILL don't have a California driver's license because mine got lost in the mail and you have to go back to the DMV to get them to send you a new one and well, if that means getting up half an hour early to go before work then you know I'm not doing it until I get threatened with arrest and maybe not even then.

But I didn't think about any of those things last night. I only thought about how nice the lotion smelled and how good it feels to have someone touch your skin even in,or maybe especially in, a purely non-sexual way and how a day only has so many hours and I'm glad I'm spending this one here.

Today I think I'm clenching my shoulders again but I'm making a concerted effort to stop when I realize I'm doing it again. We'll see how long this lasts.