I pretty much had the best job interview of my life today. And it was especially satisfying because I am actually interested in the position. (First time in six months of being unemployed that I can say that!) While I feel kind of nerdy saying this, I am damn smart. And I can kill an interview if I know what I am talking about.
I have had a few job offers over the last few months and everyone has been disgusted that I haven’t considered any of them. I think taking the first job that comes along is terrible advice. I don’t give a shit if it is a paycheck. Fuck that. If I am going to be a robot behind a desk, I am at least going to be a somewhat happy robot.
Anyway, the interview was fun. I am going tomorrow for a follow up.
After my interview I went to lunch with a bunch of characters from my previous place of employment. Boy do I miss those kids.
Then I went to the bookstore which, let's face it, is my favorite place in the world. I wandered around and bought a bunch of books and about five CDs that I probably didn’t need. But books and CDs make me happy. More happy than just about anything. I sat in the bookstore, talked to strangers, read, and drank my coffee.
After getting hopped up on coffee I went to watch the Jazz game with a good friend. I like to laugh. I think it is probably my favorite thing to do. I laughed a lot and the Jazz won.
Pretty much a perfect day.
EXCEPT (yes, here it comes) for that sick feeling in my stomach caused by my heavy heart. This nagging feeling resulted in the deterioration of the hopeful inkling that I had found one of the last amazing guys around. And of course my romantic idealism quickly resolved into cynicism, and the inevitable realization that things aren't going to work out. And let’s face it, I am just too old for this.
I have been single for ten years, by choice. This year I decided that I would be open to a relationship… if it happened. If not, I am okay with that, too. So, being vulnerable, I found someone that I strangely can't stop thinking about...
I just don’t think it’s really that complicated:
1. If I am spending time with you and being nice, it means I like you.
2. Casual friends don’t see each other naked. At least not like that.
3. If I ask you a direct question and you don’t answer me, you’re not playing hard to get, you’re telling me I am unimportant. If it's none of my business, at least say SOMETHING.
4. If I text you and you don’t reply, you’re being a jerk. (Seriously, you can spare 3 seconds.)
5. If I call you, leave a message asking you to call me and you don’t, you’re sending the signal that you're not interested.
6. If you can’t drive one half of a mile to bring me my phone knowing that I am going to be confused and irate, you’re letting me know where I fall on your list of priorities. (Particularly when you’re the type of guy that will drive 8 hours to see a friend.)
7. If you want to see me, make plans! I am not a consolation prize, I am not a booty call, and I am not your last-resort drinking buddy. (Side note: I am open to being a planned booty call and regular drinking buddy, with sufficient notice.)
8. And PLEASE for the love of all that is holy…. if you aren’t interested, TELL ME.
Sure, I like you but I fall out of “like” really fast. You’re not doing me any favors by tormenting me.
9. All I want is a smile.
Just a thought sent my way in the middle of the day.
Just to know where I stand.
10. I get irritated when someone ignores me or acts like my feelings are stupid or insignificant. If I tell you I am upset, pick up the phone and have a grown up conversation. Don't disregard me. At least say, “Let’s talk about it later.” Or even, “You’re not my girlfriend and you should stop.”
11. I want someone who adores me. If I can’t have this, I don't want anything.
12. I have plenty of friends, I don't need one who I am compelled to make out with and strangle at the same time.
13. I like my space and I think it's important you have your space.
14. I want the happiness that coexists with trust, love and mutual respect.
15. If I like someone, no matter what I do, they are invited.
I think most every moment is better when you are in it.
16.I don’t care if you leave town. That's not my issue this week.
I don’t care if you go to Mexico with your friends for weeks at a time.
I just don’t think you need to be shady about it.
It is called simple communication.
17. Ask me any question you want. I will give you an honest answer.
18. If I am being rotten, tell me! If you want to be with me, tell me! If I do something that is a dealbreaker, tell me!
Otherwise, I am only continuing to make an ass out of myself.
19. If you want to be single forever, BE SINGLE!
Leave me out of it.
I am trying really, really hard to be uncomplicated and open.
I am trying to let you know how I feel because I think you are worth it.
I don't want you to change, I just want to understand what your crazy, complicated behavior means. And you are the only one who can explain it.
I don’t need 600 friends online. I’d rather have 7 real ones.
I like hearing someone’s voice.
I like seeing someone’s face.
I like sleeping next to a warm body.
I want an honest boyfriend and lots more tattoos.
I want loads of clothes and fuckloads of diamonds.
See? Simple.
I give up. I am completely exhausted from guessing and hypothesizing and worrying and caring.
Lesson learned. Again.
In the words of Bright Eyes:
I know you have a heavy heart; I can feel it when we kiss
So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it...
One day someone will think I'm worth a little craziness and put himself out there. I just know it.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
I Was Born For This Job
My application for the Best Job in the World is in!
Conceptualized, filmed, edited, and uploaded in less than 2 hours:
Long shot? Maybe. Could we have done better? Sure. Still, the chances of getting this job are waaaay better than winning the lottery. We totally rocked the cookie factory and La Tienda for treats, real beer, and lottery tickets during our trip to Logan.
I just have to say that for me to even try for this ridiculous contest was a big deal. It was humiliating. Some of you might be surprised to learn that I am painfully shy. As the deadline approached, it became very tempting to dismiss it as a waste of time. But I did it. Because I still have some dreams. So there.
I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away...
UPDATE: I did not get the Island Caretaker job. Didn't even make it to the shortlist. And I am not trying to be rude, but the 50 finalists aren't even that spectacular. Ah well, the good news is that I did get the kick ass job I applied for last week. I started today. It's pretty awesome. Kinda lonely, kinda wish I had someone to go get coffee with, kinda wish I wasn't the only one in the marketing department... but I am really looking forward to the challenge. The other good news is that spring is around the corner! I have decided that I am going to go somewhere amazing this year on a trip. Not sure where or with whom...but it will be way better than the stupid Great Barrier Reef where I probably would have drowned or been eaten by a shark!
Conceptualized, filmed, edited, and uploaded in less than 2 hours:
Long shot? Maybe. Could we have done better? Sure. Still, the chances of getting this job are waaaay better than winning the lottery. We totally rocked the cookie factory and La Tienda for treats, real beer, and lottery tickets during our trip to Logan.
I just have to say that for me to even try for this ridiculous contest was a big deal. It was humiliating. Some of you might be surprised to learn that I am painfully shy. As the deadline approached, it became very tempting to dismiss it as a waste of time. But I did it. Because I still have some dreams. So there.I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away...
UPDATE: I did not get the Island Caretaker job. Didn't even make it to the shortlist. And I am not trying to be rude, but the 50 finalists aren't even that spectacular. Ah well, the good news is that I did get the kick ass job I applied for last week. I started today. It's pretty awesome. Kinda lonely, kinda wish I had someone to go get coffee with, kinda wish I wasn't the only one in the marketing department... but I am really looking forward to the challenge. The other good news is that spring is around the corner! I have decided that I am going to go somewhere amazing this year on a trip. Not sure where or with whom...but it will be way better than the stupid Great Barrier Reef where I probably would have drowned or been eaten by a shark!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Parlement of Foules
I have come to the conclusion that a spell has been cast upon me. Last week was a whirlwind of crazy (and mostly unfortunate) events, yet I was uncharacteristically blithe. I found happiness in simple things. I didn't think very much; I did only the things I wanted to do. If I did something nice for someone, it was genuinely because I wanted to.
Unlike years past, I didn't even think about Valentine's Day nor did I spend several painstaking hours on a mix CD of my favorite love songs for a-holes. Instead, I spent a lot of time alone, I ran outside, I drank coffee, I slept, I went to the bookstore, I took deep breaths, I felt sunshine on my skin, I let my guard down. This is not to say that the usual insipidness of my life wasn't swirling around me. Trust me, there was plenty of daily dysfunction and annoyances. I just decided to sidestep them. Even my sister commented after a phone conversation saying, "You sounded happy, if even for a moment."
Weird.
First of all, weird because I don't know when I started coming across as being unhappy. And weird because I couldn't figure out exactly where the "new" happiness was coming from. Maybe it's from all the sugar I've been eating? Maybe it's from sleeping better? Maybe it's the universe telling me that things are shifting? Maybe it's from telling people "no" more often. Maybe it's because I am one year older. Maybe it's all of the above. I prefer to romanticize it and say it's from being true at heart. Cliché? Oh yea, it's Valentine's Day and I am going for it.
I am completely in love with being me and being 34 years old. I am totally comfortable with myself and my flaws. I have A LOT of issues and I have no problem pointing them out. In fact, one of my flaws is that I give away all of my insecurities and imperfections within the first 24 hours of meeting someone. I come with my very own disclaimer. STOP. Push PAUSE.
My disclaimer is NOT intended to push people away. At least I didn't think it was. It just usually always has. Until this week. Push PLAY.
This week, someone read the disclaimer and signed the deal anyway. He basically shoved my disclaimer back in my face. Turns out, I was really the one who needed to accept my terms and conditions. Turns out, being true at heart--and accepted for it--brings me peace. Turns out, if only for a moment, I am happy.
Geoffrey Chaucer
(from The Parliament of Fowls)
A garden saw I, full of blossomy boughs
Upon a river, in a green mead,
There as sweetness evermore enough is,
With flowers white, blue, yellow, and red,
And cold well-streams, nothing dead,
That swimming full of small fishes light,
With fins red and scales silver bright.
On every bough the birds heard I sing,
With voice of angels in their harmony;
Some busied themselves birds forth to bring;
The little coneys to here play did hie.
And further all about I could see
The dread filled roe, the buck, the hart and hind,
Squirrels, and beasts small of gentle kind.
Of instruments of strings in accord
Heard I so play a ravishing sweetness,
That God, that maker is of all and lord,
Had heard never better, as I guess.
Therewith a wind, scarcely it might be less,
Made in the leaves green a noise soft
Accordant to the fowls' song aloft.
Th'air of that place so a-temperate was
That never was grievance of hot nor cold.
There wax also every wholesome spice and grass;
No man may there wax sick nor old;
Yet was there joy more a thousandfold
Than man can tell; never would it be night,
But always clear day to any man's sight.
Unlike years past, I didn't even think about Valentine's Day nor did I spend several painstaking hours on a mix CD of my favorite love songs for a-holes. Instead, I spent a lot of time alone, I ran outside, I drank coffee, I slept, I went to the bookstore, I took deep breaths, I felt sunshine on my skin, I let my guard down. This is not to say that the usual insipidness of my life wasn't swirling around me. Trust me, there was plenty of daily dysfunction and annoyances. I just decided to sidestep them. Even my sister commented after a phone conversation saying, "You sounded happy, if even for a moment."
Weird.
First of all, weird because I don't know when I started coming across as being unhappy. And weird because I couldn't figure out exactly where the "new" happiness was coming from. Maybe it's from all the sugar I've been eating? Maybe it's from sleeping better? Maybe it's the universe telling me that things are shifting? Maybe it's from telling people "no" more often. Maybe it's because I am one year older. Maybe it's all of the above. I prefer to romanticize it and say it's from being true at heart. Cliché? Oh yea, it's Valentine's Day and I am going for it.
I am completely in love with being me and being 34 years old. I am totally comfortable with myself and my flaws. I have A LOT of issues and I have no problem pointing them out. In fact, one of my flaws is that I give away all of my insecurities and imperfections within the first 24 hours of meeting someone. I come with my very own disclaimer. STOP. Push PAUSE.
My disclaimer is NOT intended to push people away. At least I didn't think it was. It just usually always has. Until this week. Push PLAY.
This week, someone read the disclaimer and signed the deal anyway. He basically shoved my disclaimer back in my face. Turns out, I was really the one who needed to accept my terms and conditions. Turns out, being true at heart--and accepted for it--brings me peace. Turns out, if only for a moment, I am happy.
Geoffrey Chaucer
(from The Parliament of Fowls)
A garden saw I, full of blossomy boughs
Upon a river, in a green mead,
There as sweetness evermore enough is,
With flowers white, blue, yellow, and red,
And cold well-streams, nothing dead,
That swimming full of small fishes light,
With fins red and scales silver bright.
On every bough the birds heard I sing,
With voice of angels in their harmony;
Some busied themselves birds forth to bring;
The little coneys to here play did hie.
And further all about I could see
The dread filled roe, the buck, the hart and hind,
Squirrels, and beasts small of gentle kind.
Of instruments of strings in accord
Heard I so play a ravishing sweetness,
That God, that maker is of all and lord,
Had heard never better, as I guess.
Therewith a wind, scarcely it might be less,
Made in the leaves green a noise soft
Accordant to the fowls' song aloft.
Th'air of that place so a-temperate was
That never was grievance of hot nor cold.
There wax also every wholesome spice and grass;
No man may there wax sick nor old;
Yet was there joy more a thousandfold
Than man can tell; never would it be night,
But always clear day to any man's sight.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Scarred For Life
It is inevitable that Saturday is going to happen. And I am not going to put any energy on it. So it’s Valentine’s Day. Big whoop. So I’ll stay away from all eating establishments and movie theaters in Utah County; so I’ll hear from all three of my sisters about the pretty flowers they got; so I’ll scoff at lovers everywhere. Why? I used to love Valentine’s Day. Where did this bitterness start?
I’ll tell you where: My senior year in high school. That’s exactly where it started.
I will try not to use real names but let’s face it, this story is already a young legend in my town. And so the story goes…
During my junior year of high school, I fell in love for the first time. He was from a neighboring town and was one year older than me. I was totally smitten and not in a good way. I will warn you now that this two-year love story has few happy moments.
The entire experience was utter and complete hell. Not only did all the girls from Spanish Fork continually try to beat me up, all the boys had read my stolen diary. (Yep, said diary was returned to me by the basketball star on my front porch, although not in the Domino’s Pizza uniform from my dreams that I had written about so many times.)
My obsession was hard on my friends, too. From poor Jodi getting hypothermia (because I forced her to walk through four feet of snow in sub zero temperatures while attempting to sneak into his house)--to taking Brittany on a hell ride to Snow College (on which we both almost lost our lives), it was a very traumatic experience for all of my friends and me.
After two years of hiding in the bathroom every time Springville played Spanish Fork in a sporting event and after several awesome make-out sessions to mix tapes on waterbeds, I still hadn't learned my lesson. Alas, during my senior year he would leave for his L.D.S. mission.
I, of course, had to have the perfect dress, hair and make up for his farewell. And I looked amazing. What? I totally did. But why should this story end with me having any dignity in tact? When have I EVER let anything just be. No, I was waiting for Gina to pick me up (in her awesome Suzuki Samurai) and noticed that my new dress would not lay flat along the neckline. I tried relentlessly to make the scalloped trim lay properly. Finally, I plugged in the iron, got a towel, put the towel on my chest, laid the iron on my chest, and... nothing. The fabric still flipped up. So I hit the steam button. Why not? Why not?… Because it would scorch the skin right off my chest!
If you can’t tell, the following picture is a photo of my chest; on my chest are scars in the perfect shape of an iron. And I did it to myself because I was sick with love.
This picture was taken at a softball game months later. It does not compare to the day of the farewell. I had bright, glaring, purple dots scattered across my chest. Bless Gina’s reaction as she tried to talk me out of wearing the dress. I believe I overheard someone refer to me as an "alien" while I sobbed through sacrament meeting. (Yes, of course I wore the dress with the low neckline. Of course I did.) Little did Gina or I know that this would be the first of many disasters she would try to talk me out of.
The farewell was fine, blah blah blah, the boy brought me a nice letter later that night, and that was the end. (Okay, I am not going to lie, years later he married a girl from Logan and I saw the announcement in the paper because I was going to Utah State, and my sister and I did try to stalk the wedding, but it was totally out of curiosity.)
And that really is the end. I may always remember this story as my first painful experience with love, but I don’t know that I can correlate the rest of my relationship history to any one defining moment. I think each one is different. And I can’t really say that I have learned that much because I still spazz out to this very day… but I am hopeful that one day, maybe even on the dubious 14th of February, I will look back and realize it was all worth it.
I’ll tell you where: My senior year in high school. That’s exactly where it started.
I will try not to use real names but let’s face it, this story is already a young legend in my town. And so the story goes…
During my junior year of high school, I fell in love for the first time. He was from a neighboring town and was one year older than me. I was totally smitten and not in a good way. I will warn you now that this two-year love story has few happy moments.
The entire experience was utter and complete hell. Not only did all the girls from Spanish Fork continually try to beat me up, all the boys had read my stolen diary. (Yep, said diary was returned to me by the basketball star on my front porch, although not in the Domino’s Pizza uniform from my dreams that I had written about so many times.)
My obsession was hard on my friends, too. From poor Jodi getting hypothermia (because I forced her to walk through four feet of snow in sub zero temperatures while attempting to sneak into his house)--to taking Brittany on a hell ride to Snow College (on which we both almost lost our lives), it was a very traumatic experience for all of my friends and me.
After two years of hiding in the bathroom every time Springville played Spanish Fork in a sporting event and after several awesome make-out sessions to mix tapes on waterbeds, I still hadn't learned my lesson. Alas, during my senior year he would leave for his L.D.S. mission.
I, of course, had to have the perfect dress, hair and make up for his farewell. And I looked amazing. What? I totally did. But why should this story end with me having any dignity in tact? When have I EVER let anything just be. No, I was waiting for Gina to pick me up (in her awesome Suzuki Samurai) and noticed that my new dress would not lay flat along the neckline. I tried relentlessly to make the scalloped trim lay properly. Finally, I plugged in the iron, got a towel, put the towel on my chest, laid the iron on my chest, and... nothing. The fabric still flipped up. So I hit the steam button. Why not? Why not?… Because it would scorch the skin right off my chest!
If you can’t tell, the following picture is a photo of my chest; on my chest are scars in the perfect shape of an iron. And I did it to myself because I was sick with love.
This picture was taken at a softball game months later. It does not compare to the day of the farewell. I had bright, glaring, purple dots scattered across my chest. Bless Gina’s reaction as she tried to talk me out of wearing the dress. I believe I overheard someone refer to me as an "alien" while I sobbed through sacrament meeting. (Yes, of course I wore the dress with the low neckline. Of course I did.) Little did Gina or I know that this would be the first of many disasters she would try to talk me out of.
The farewell was fine, blah blah blah, the boy brought me a nice letter later that night, and that was the end. (Okay, I am not going to lie, years later he married a girl from Logan and I saw the announcement in the paper because I was going to Utah State, and my sister and I did try to stalk the wedding, but it was totally out of curiosity.)
And that really is the end. I may always remember this story as my first painful experience with love, but I don’t know that I can correlate the rest of my relationship history to any one defining moment. I think each one is different. And I can’t really say that I have learned that much because I still spazz out to this very day… but I am hopeful that one day, maybe even on the dubious 14th of February, I will look back and realize it was all worth it.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Carly Cakes
So I am another year older today.
Yup and I am okay with it. Mostly because I have awesome friends and an awesome family that make me feel happy.
I am not going to lie, I love my birthday. It's one day I act really selfish and let people do nice things for me. So here are all the nice things people did for me this year to make it the perfect birthday:
Bought me irish car bombs; told me it was okay to turn off my cell phone
Listened to live music with me
Bought me long island iced teas, Jameson, and pizza
Kissed me (hey... lots of people kissed me and I think that's the best!)
Danced with me
Pushed me headfirst into a shelving unit
Called, texted, or emailed nice messages
Made homemade happy birthday signs
Bought me cupcakes
Took me out to breakfast
Went to the movie with me
Made me a memory video
Went out to dinner with me
Left me obscene voice messages that make my stomach hurt from laughing
Loved me so much I cried
I've turned into a big, fat softy over the last two years, for sure. But one thing I can't take for granted is kindness. Any time people go out of their way to do something nice or make me feel happy, I am deeply full of gratitude. So... today I am just thankful for everyone in my life this year, and missing those from years past.
Happy Birthday to me!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
I Have Rabies
...and I also have black hair. BLACK.
Platinum blonde and black. Anyway, it is adorable and the only thing that might get me through this month of rotten-ness: Getting older, Valentine's Day, and my grandma spitting loogies. (I shit you not, she just forced up a huge one in the bathroom.*)
*Correction: She was forcing up the dinner I made her.
BUT. I have tons and tons and tons and tons of stuff to say. And I want to make this post.
BIGGER BUT. I have to go to sleep tonight. Like 33 minutes ago.
So I will just say, my blog is going to maybe be public soon because I am getting braver.
Good night!
Oh quickly, my favorite love song for 2009 is Slow Show by The National. Another favorite love song (that I am going to listen to today) is The Mr T. Experience, Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend.
This is where the post should've ended.
I was always so bummed out in high school because I never had a boyfriend, primarily because we never had a "song." I totally would have picked Queensryche.
Cooorection.
New Me: Huh, of all the totally fabulous guys I dated in High School, college, my 20's, none of us had a "song." Weird.
(I want to write about that now because it immediately brings up like 67 ideas, but I rrrrrreally do have to go to sleep. Doctor's orders. (Rabies, weird, I know).
Future Me: I was married once and we didn't have a song. Maybe that's what went wrong...
meow.
Platinum blonde and black. Anyway, it is adorable and the only thing that might get me through this month of rotten-ness: Getting older, Valentine's Day, and my grandma spitting loogies. (I shit you not, she just forced up a huge one in the bathroom.*)
*Correction: She was forcing up the dinner I made her.
BUT. I have tons and tons and tons and tons of stuff to say. And I want to make this post.
BIGGER BUT. I have to go to sleep tonight. Like 33 minutes ago.
So I will just say, my blog is going to maybe be public soon because I am getting braver.
Good night!
Oh quickly, my favorite love song for 2009 is Slow Show by The National. Another favorite love song (that I am going to listen to today) is The Mr T. Experience, Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend.
This is where the post should've ended.
I was always so bummed out in high school because I never had a boyfriend, primarily because we never had a "song." I totally would have picked Queensryche.
Cooorection.
New Me: Huh, of all the totally fabulous guys I dated in High School, college, my 20's, none of us had a "song." Weird.
(I want to write about that now because it immediately brings up like 67 ideas, but I rrrrrreally do have to go to sleep. Doctor's orders. (Rabies, weird, I know).
Future Me: I was married once and we didn't have a song. Maybe that's what went wrong...
meow.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Sundance Extravaganza
My crew has a tradition of celebrating February birthdays at Sundance each year. There are four birthdays in February within our group, but really it is a night for everyone--no matter when your big day is.
Past Sundance highlights include cutting Mikele off from booze before dinner; the complete laugh-cry-come-apart when a waitress fell down with a huge tray of food right in front of us; Robert Redford almost hitting me in the parking lot; Aunt Shauna peeing in a parking lot; Giovonni hitting on both my mother and me. And, of course, every year at least one person cries.
This year would be no exception. However, we would have to do it without Mindy and Grammy.
(Side note: Grandma was unable to attend because she has bronchial pneumonia so she spent the night at home coughing up foul, gooey shit and secretly infiltrating every area in the house before we got home. Mindy was also unable to attend; she is holding down the Logan fort with Max and Piper.)
Mikele, Tawny, and I all got car sick on the way up to the resort: hot backseat + no mirrors or light to put make up on with + flask of whiskey + winding roads + hunger.
I ate lots and lots of food: two dirty martinis, wedge salad, meatloaf with mashed potatoes, milk chocolate panna cotta with caramel corn, and apple pie.
During dinner, we all had a great time catching up. I did see a few people cough (or gag) a little when we talked about Dean. Dean spoils Tiny so much that everyone else is gagging with jealousy. He has a secret fantasy vacation planned for her birthday. They will be going somewhere warm and to see a Broadway play. Everyone was amazed and tickled and wanted the details. And I have to say, I do think he's amazing but Tiny (cough) definitely (gag) deserves it.
Wayne is also deemed to be another amazing boyfriend. Smart, kind, charismatic, laid back, and just a true gentleman. I think Wayne and Shooter are going to be blissfully happy for sure. They will be the ultimate super couple. Their combined personalities could create an even MORE awesome coffee shop with creative art forms, vinyl records, live shows, unique t-shirts, maybe amazing hair cuts, and killer people that hang out there (me).
Aside from Tiny, Shooter and me, everyone else is married (or in a 15+ year relationship) and they are all "happy." I think it's sad that marriage ends so many awesome things in a relationship.
Leading up to any birthday or major holiday, the single ladies always get the full court press. This year I am pretending like it didn't happen.
Afterwards, the Owl Bar:
Not too crowded but had a rockin' band that was the epitome of a country-rock cover band. Very interesting. There were a bunch of people from Springville there for some reason. Instead of dragging out the details, I'll give you some highlights and you can check out the pictures:
- Drinks are overpriced. Good thing I had my flask. Pretty sure they aren't putting the correct amount of alcohol in their drinks.
- Mikele and Jaclyn danced it up.
- Shauna was non-stop comedy and danced in her seat, until she couldn't take it any longer and her feet carried her to the dance floor.
- The frizzapuff came in and danced in her electrifying way.
- Someone bought us drinks.
- The waitress finally showed us who the nice man was that sent us drinks.
- The "nice man" was a "nice woman."
- Me: "I get this all the time. We can just raise our glass to her and let her know we appreciate it."
- I should have known it would not be this easy.
- Meet Mikele: Lesbian for Hire. Something about shots make her dance. Especially if you buy Patron.
- Meet Tawny: Cousin Revenge: Apparently someone said Shman was super hot..
- I got a lap dance from Aunt Shauna! It was so worth being another year older!
- My mom didn't wear tights or clogs. She was actually okay to hang out with.
- Jaclyn was the one crying this year. I will not share the reason.
The drive home was totally awesome. I'm going to go out on a limb and say it was more fun than the bar. Unfortunately, I can't divulge what happened because names and actions must remain confidential. We did stop and get rolled tacos from Beto's and they were scrumptious.
I really love being around my sisters and cousins. Our relationship is priceless. It makes me soooo happy. It was a super fun night and I love having one more memory of our crew. Hopefully, we will have many, many more.
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