KSL Ads of the Week.

I haven't seen anything really totally funny or bizarre in a while. I think they are on to me. Tonight I did find a few that made me smile.

$1500

Two rocking stationary sitting divices.

Sandy, UT 84070 - Dec 29, 2008

8014338###

Seller Contact Info

Contact Name:

Finnegan

801-433-8###

And why I loved it.

The item is both stationary AND rocking.
"Sitting divice"?? You mean a chair??
The guy obviously had to make up a description (for a porch rocker) because he had no idea what it was.
He is asking $1500 (!!) for this thing he can not identify.
Finnegan needs to begin again.

FREE ESTIMATE

MO******IN H**LS drywall

west jordan, UT 84088 - Dec 29, 2008

100% quality we do frame hang tape mud texter finish basement patch WORK RE-TEXTURE CEILING & WALL CRACKEd JOINTS & CORNERS POPPEd NAILS ANd CORNER BEAD WATER Damage Repairs new and old house remodeling we can fix anything around your house

Obviously these guys are going to do a quality, thorough job. Why, just look at their attention to detail.

Free

Got Buck?

Ogden, UT 84405 - Dec 29, 2008

Looking for a male pygmy goat, NOT neutered. Either to borrow for the winter to keep my girls company or I can take him outright if you're sick of the stench. Must be old enough to know what he's doing, bigger buck preferred. Must have horns.

Seller Contact Info

Contact Name:

Nadja

Home Phone:
801-555-####

WTF?




I just found this also via Google...

Loewestamm Company manufactures stylish accessories handcrafted from natural wood. Adhering to own philosophy, Loewestamm offers conceptual collections composed of wooden necklaces, wooden bracelets, wooden bangles, wooden earrings. Each product presented by the Loewestamm Company is hand-made and unique since there are no two identical pieces of wood. Increase Your art and fashion business proitability by completing Your collection with natural wooden jewellery from Loewestamm Design Company.

On Julia's Blog Post, Bringing Classy Back. Or, Why I Love Me Some Mad Men on AMC.

Julia, Tanya and I stayed up and watched "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes". One of my all time favorites. I must confess I went around saying, "Thank you ever so," for like years after I saw it. I also similarly adore "How to Marry a Millionaire". Oh that gorgeous Lauren Bacal. If I could order me up a face it would be hers. I think my little girl got the best of Bio's physical genes, her eyes have that sleepy bed-room, cat eye shape Lauren's (and Tanya's) do and I love them. Coupled with her dimples and curly hair they keep me from choking her tantrumy/difficult little self. (Bells not Tanya.) But I digress.
We were all lamenting the death of times when women were stared at on train platforms. When we went to dinner in gowns and men winked at us. When men would actually stand up and marry their woman. We wished we could wear dresses everyday and feel more like...women. May I indulge an idea in front of you now? It's just an idea from my sick mind. No, really, I am on some harsh cold meds with a fever, I'm sick. But for now I feel this in my heart and want to get it out. I think we payed a sad price for equality, and we are all starting to feel it. And there it is.
Do NOT get me wrong for a second. I am genuinely grateful for the battle women fought to be equal to men. I am every day blessed with a job I love big where I go to work with a crew full of men. At times being the only women. And I get to have this job because of the past sacrifices of others, I am not ignorant of that fact. And I will not be able to express my gratitude ENOUGH for that on the other side even if given the chance. Because like Julia says, "There are not words."

When I was in High School I had very old fashioned ideas. I would never ask a boy out unless it was Sadie Hawkins. I never called first. I didn't call before 10am or after 10 pm. I didn't put out. You get the picture. I watched girls chase guys and get them all of the time and I saw that guys were lazy. I may have been fighting a losing battle but I made a conscious decision not to participate. It broke my heart in so many ways to see that things were not the way I would have them be. I made it through High School and had a good experience for keeping to this standard. In college I had boyfriends that were well meaning but joshed me about being old fashioned. Mocked me for being non athletic, non political, non outdoorsy and frivolous. I felt like I had two options, get with the program or get passed over. I got with the program.
I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't be able to do what I do if I had not gotten with said program. But I do feel that price being paid. Oh, I feel it. I feel it after being on set overnight for 18 hours shooting in a store/bank/hospital when I get groceries looking like a construction worker because Brett has to be at work and then go to an audition and then has Thrills and can't manage it. I know I'm wrecking classy. When I am tearing out the kitchen floor/moldy drywall/bathroom vanity and I have to go to Lowes to get a part in my doo rag and overalls. I know who I am being in those moments and it's not lovely and demure. And I ache a little. I know it secretly wrecks Brett. My mother-in-law told me so.

Our lives as humans today seem to require us to put aside these romantic and classic ideals, sadly. I am just glad for a church that says, men...stand up. Women, get an education but stay lovely and foster your nurturing, charitable side. Learn to sew and can and cook. Have enrichment night. Visit Teach. Be chaste and make them earn you. And men, marry them and lead your family. I love these things about us. We are not driving buggies but we are old fashioned. And I look forward to going to church every Sunday. And to my new church time of one o'clock knowing it gives me ample time to put effort into at least one day in my week when I get to do my hair and put on pretty shoes and an actual dress. So I can sit by a handsome man in a suit who will hold my hand and if I'm lucky, wink at me.

Looks like I made it.

I survived the back to back shoots. Woo. There is still one more but it's not heavy. Just a show up and do make-up kind of day. So I feel like snuggling down in my house and sleeping until roughly May. I've missed out on a lot while I was working, like AFV. So I'm catching up right now. Aw, dogs in shoes. Ow, dudes hitting stop signs. Ew, birds going poop on toddlers.

We have a cat now. Her name is Jane. We call her Friskers Meow. Brett hates her. It's a surprise to me how much I like her. Pugmann wants her to be in his mouth at all times. Pugmann now weighs 300 pounds from the eating of Jane's food. (Side note: My daughter said a funny thing while watching Beyonce's Single Ladies video on You Tube with me. She asked if one of the girls in it was my friend Jane Black. I couldn't figure it out but I think she knows the girls are black and I have a friend named Jane Black and did the "math".)

My Grandma broke her hip. And that commercial where the old woman falls and can't get up that we all made fun of is now not so funny. She fell while alone and wasn't able to move until my Cousin Elizabeth came home from school and found her and called for help. I will bawl if I think about it. So the package I just sent will not get to Grandma because she is in Hospital. I love saying that. So Brittish. Can't we bring that around?

Brett was given the job of putting up the Christmas lights three Saturdays ago but the weather was just too nice and he had to be indoors playing WOW until a massive storm today finally drove him out of doors to do the lights. Wha?? Poor man.

We are asking for heart felt prayers. It's super selfish to ask, I know. But. A good friend that produces commercials told me he is doing an infomercial for a tool that is great for remodeling. He came and took lots of pictures of our torn up house. He thinks that they may use it to shoot some before and afters. They will supply the afters. So I am begging that they find many, many rooms that will work for their commercial. The client flies into town on the 22nd to look at our house. Even if they just do our cabinets I am happy. But I can't help wondering, what if they do more?? But I'm not counting any chickens. Trying not to count chickens. No chickens.

I have shopping done, and the tree up and now I need to go do a cross-stitch due Tuesday and a few returns and get ready for the Ward Christmas Party so no one thinks I'm a Jack Mormon again. Which by the way used to be a term for people friendly to Mormons. And with that I leave you again until after Christmas. Or until something interesting happens.

Crow.

I'm eating it. I am actually working a lot this fall/winter. There are a slew of these great spots being written by Jeff at Reister for Pacificorps. We shot these amazing Linemen. (Power line workers.) I was told that the prettier my assistant and I could make ourselves the better they would co-operate. That they are real men and won't like wearing make-up. I'm expecting trouble. Nope. These men are...amazing. They are all laughing at one another and threatening to post pictures on the internet but it's all in love. They all mostly did it for kids and grandkids, so they could see them on TV. Awww. They all thanked me and one guy actually thanked me for talking to him like I would a normal person. Wha? I was honored. It's like a Fireman thanking you for your contribution to society. I seriously teared up a few times. One single dad shared his story with me about raising his girls and I bawled like a baby. His girls are AMAZING by the by, he showed me pictures. Movie star beautiful these two! His good friend was in the chair after him and told me when we were alone that he really was an amazing father and did a bang up job with his girls and got misty. Another guy told me their job was the coolest job in the world even though people die all the time doing it. He said there can be thirty teams all out with their spotlights shining up the poles while the snow comes down. He said no one else sees this and it's stunningly beautiful and makes it worth every minute. The only thing I can compare it to is my stringing Christmas lights in a snowstorm for a Check City shoot with Ryan Little and Tyler Measom. No lives were saved in my helping advertise for 26% interest plus fees on your emergency cash advance. And I was on a ladder, not a 75 foot pole.

That was day one. Day two was a slew of vignettes. Blenders, toasters, shovel phones. Yep, shovel phones. Everyone would walk past and then back up and look at me taping phones to shovels and post hole diggers. Then scratch their heads. "Call before you dig", I'd say and they'd go, "Oh. Got it!" The next one involves a ninja. I am dying to make and/or buy a ninja outfit! Jeff said they have 9 more coming up. Nine. N.I.N.E. And I'm shooting for Mountain America this week. I am thinking that the timing couldn't be better. I will hopefully have a good chunk of our debt erased by February. Because I believe in divine planning, I will either be Pregnant next year or unemployed. Either way I will be prepared. I hope and pray it's the former. I love my job. LOVE my job. Love it!! It completes me.

The only bad thing about working so much is that this house is going to be a giant mess for much longer than anticipated. And I will miss Aidan's 9th birthday. (I was in charge of all the other 8 so I don't feel too badly...) And that we will have Thanksgiving at Chuck O' Rama. No, really we will, I am not cooking in a kitchen without a floor. I guess that last one is not so bad, I like Chuck O Rama. So I may go blog M.I.A. for a while. I should wish you to Have a Happy Turkey Day and Merry Christmas and possibly I should wish you a Happy New Year as well. Martin Luther King Jr Day? I'm pushing it...

Everything and Nothing

This time of year is just dismal. I stop working. The weather changes. I get fat. I am left to actually spend time in my house and with my kids. Neither of which I'm used to. Both seem to be beyond repair.

Don't get me wrong, I feel like I have a lot of blessings. I can see God's hand in my life helping things along in spite of me. I now have good friends and a great husband and a fun job and a house. But I am still left wondering sometimes, when does my life begin? When will I get to start having many babies and stay at home and walk my kids to school before I sit down with a Sarah Lee pound cake and watch my programs? When will I put my kids down for a nap, wrap up in a blanket in front of a fire nursing a fat baby reading Twilight for an hour while dreamily thinking about being in love with a Vampire all wistfully full of longing and romance? Then make dinner while the kids play Xbox. Put my kids to bed and rub Brett's shoulders while we watch Leno. My biggest concern being which pictures I should use for our Christmas cards, the ones of us in reindeer sweaters or where we're all in white...

I always wanted a normal life. I only wanted a normal life. So I used to lie. A lot. About stupid stuff. I told my friends I was in a dance troupe, that I took violin lessons. I so deeply wished my Mom didn't work for the National Enquirer, General Hospital, A Country Radio Station. I wish she didn't wear cut off short shorts, flirt with men, miss all the landmark occasions in my life. I wished my Dad would step up and call her out. Leave her, tell her no. I wished she didn't spend money we didn't have. Pay her mother's huge phone bills. Have huge phone bills. I vowed I would never be like that.

But I am forced to see how I am just like my mother. I work a job that takes me away from my kids. Makes me miss important events. A job that is kind of embarrassing for my children in it's frivolity. I have a house that has hundreds of incomplete projects. My kids go to school in clothes that are too small for them, or the wrong season. They need haircuts and smell bad. I spend money I don't have and assume irresponsibly that I can just Ebay to make extra cash. Or start selling dresses or make kids clothes or jewelry or open a business or patent a million dollar invention or write a screenplay. My mother is in her mid sixties and says she isn't worried about retirement because she will just write a best selling novel. She can't decide if it should be about her sex life or helping people die or being a lesbian or...

Can I still dream? That after this Saturday when we all finally get sealed in the Temple I will magically fix this house and make a million dollars and get pregnant and live forever in perfect, normal bliss? Or is that just the equivalent of lying about being on a swim team? I think what will really happen is that I will have a great day and be thankful for my family and we will all feel really great. And a great weight will be lifted off my shoulders. And then Bella will have had a long morning and get crabby and need a nap, so Brett and I will kiss everyone we love goodbye and come home. We will then sit on the couch on his and her's laptops while we ignore the overwhelming amount of things around the house we don't have the ability or means to do while I worry endlessly how I will pay my minimum amounts due November through February. And when my real life will begin.

Bentz Family Vacation Do-Over Contest

So I know I'm not a Clark Family member with a blog readership of over six hundred but for those few of you that do read, please go to www.parentingextras.com/familyroadtrip/ and vote for the Bentz Family. Brett's sister is Tiffany Bentz and their dear family had a way worse time on our family trip then I blogged about previously. I was only miserable and hot at Sea World. They were miserable and hot and had barfing kids. Kids that barfed on their DVD player. Kids that barfed up their Anti-Biotics for their painful ear infection. Kids that decided they would just not take meds no matter what. I feel for them, they SO deserve a do-over! I hope they get it. I don't know how they mantained their sunny cheerful attitudes. VOTE VOTE VOTE! And thank you for your support.

Scary.

I had a baaad dream last night. And I haven't been watching scary movies or anything. Scary dreams leave me with that weird emotional hang-over like scary movies do. I judge a scary movie on how long that hang-over lasts. Top five scary movies according to Amelia in no reasonable order:

5. Twilight Zone:The Movie. My sister Jen was having a sleep over for her birthday. They were in the TV room in sleeping bags and decided to watch this movie. She told me to go and get her and her guests stuff from the kitchen, I don't know, chips or something. I did and came back. On screen two men were talking about something. I handed the stuff over and when I turned back around a guy in the driver's seat asked his passenger if he wanted to see something really scary. He hid his face and then turned back to his friend as a hideous monster and ate him. I was so unprepared for it I almost soiled myself. I had to sleep with my Dad that night and even then I kept thinking he was going to turn over at any moment and say, "You wanna see something really scary?" The next day I avoided people. I replayed it in my head in a million different scenarios. My mom handing me a piece of bread, my sister passing me in the hallway, friends walking with me to school. Each ended with them asking me the question before turning in to monsters. I came around the corner of our house a few days later and my Dad had a running chain saw in his hands. When he just went to a tree and began to saw some limbs I knew I was going to be fine.

4.Seven. (Spoiler alert: I tell the ending but if you haven't seen it already, wtf??) I saw it with my first husband the first night it came out. We heard some DJs talk highly about it on the radio. They mentioned it was intense but I think they underplayed it. I was a mess through the whole thing. I almost cried when they open that room with the thousands of little scented trees and when Brad opens the box and finds her head and then shoots Keiser Sose I was shaking like a crack fiend. Devin and I apologized to each other over and over for not finding out more about the movie before we went so we would have been better prepared. I had nightmares for days. I liked it the second, third and forth times I saw it, though.

3.The Descent. Brett and I went and saw this together. It's hard to go and get a sitter and plan a night you're both free and then go to a little old theater in Murray and see a movie that makes you want to go home and sit in the shower, rock back and forth and cry. I have never loved a movie I hated so, so very much. I want to tell everyone to see it so we can talk about how wonderfully horrifying and awful it was. If you love scary movies, it's one to watch. If you don't? Dont.

2.Signs. I know everyone hated this movie. I know that people wanted it to be something it wasn't. I know there are aliens at the end that no one wanted to get a good look at. I do not care. I loved this movie. I saw it with my Mom and when we came out of the theater I was going over it and over it in my head. "Swing away, and he was a batter and could only...and the waters all over the house and the thing with the breathing and they were things that made them weird but the mom knew it was for a reason and in the end saved their lives and..." I was shaking uncontrollably while I smoked what seemed like eleven camel lights back to back outside the theater to calm my nerves.

1.Nightmare on Elm Street. I saw this in the theater. Do the math and you will see I was WAY underage. I'd had a dream months before the film came out about a boy in a wheel chair. He was in an old school late at night. He was wheeling down a long hallway that came to a T. He was looking for his family that were there for teacher conferences. As he wheeled along three cuts appeared on his back as if slashed by three knives at once. The cuts just appeared and began to pour blood. He fell forward in his chair. It began to wheel its self down the hallway faster and faster until a locker opened up in front of him, unseen hands shoved his body and the wheelchair into the locker and slammed it shut. Then three people that I knew were the boy's family, Mom Dad and sibling, came around the corner talking about how well the boy was dong in school after the accident. Mom and Dad then received the same three slashes on their backs and fell to the floor in a heap. My minds eye zoomed in on the last survivor and they mouthed the words, I'm next. Then I woke myself right up. So when I saw a preview for a movie where school kids get cut up by a guy from their dreams that has a handfull of blades, I had to go see it to be sure this guy wasn't real and I wasn't next.

Have a Happy Halloween and good luck renting one or all of the above.

The Literally Illiterate.

I love KSL.com. I found my dog there, Nigel Pugmann. I am constantly looking for things I can use for the house, like flooring, tiles, a way to eradicate dog hair. What I come across instead are examples of people's extreme illiteracy. There was a perfectly hilarious ad I came across months ago that sadly I didn't copy and save, but thankfully there is a wealth. Here are a few good ones I came across today.

NICE ANTIQUE SIDE BOARD. Ogden, Ut.

SIDE BOARD IS 48 INCHERS IN LENGHT
38 INCHERS HI AND 20 INCHERS WID
PLEASE CALL JACK AT 334 6287 PLEASE
CALL BEFORE 7 PM. Contact: Joann.

How many inchers in a foot, Joann?

TAKE ME HOME FREE
vally, UT 84763 - Oct 21, 2008
i am giving away my three english bulldog puppies out to good homes due to our transfered out of the state you will only pay for there shipping cost. contact roselin_lucas4@yahoo.com

How does one ship a puppy, exactly?

This next one is just plain confusing. I don't know whether to call and pick up the "little guy" or laugh at it's expense.

Frozen Kitten Deserves a Good Home
Heber city, UT 84032 - Oct 20, 2008
This little guy is about 5-6 weeks old. I found him at the back door of the restaurant where I work about 10 days ago. It had been one of the coldest nights we had, back when the snow was here. I don't know where his mother is or how he got to where he was. When I picked him up, he stayed in the same position, he was so cold. He wouldn't open his eyes and just kept doing the same cry over and over. After about 2 hours, he was finally warmed up and very wobbly. You could feel every bone in his body. For being so young, he has really had a rough start in life. The tip of one of his ears had been bitten off and the end of his tail is also bent from a break. It took a week for him to quit growling every time we fed him, he was so starved. I am happy to say that he has gained a lot of weight and no longer growls to protect his food. He is just the sweetest thing and loves to be with people. I really want him to have a good home with someone who can spend some time with him. I introduced him to my neighbor and her cat and he freaked out at the older cat. It may have been another cat that attacked him in the first place, so I don't know how he will do with other cats. My shi tzu licks his face constantly and he loves that. Please don't be offended if I ask about what kind of home you can provide, I just want to know he will be safe. Please call, he is the perfect age for enjoying all the kitten time out of him. He is litter box trained.

Awwwwww. I want to enjoy all the kitten time out of him...

$14000
Fisher wood burning stove
moroni, UT 84646 - Oct 21, 2008
Mr. Toone placed an add for a fisher wood burning stove and I told him to consider it sold I dont have your number please call call me with your number. or relist it.

The best part is that this has been placed as a classified ad. If Mr Toone was selling a stove he would not be likely to look through other wood burning stove ads now would he? Sorry you jacked the buy. Der.

Dont buy from the Herriman lady
Herriman, UT 84096 - Oct 21, 2008
I had planned to buy an outfit from her and bought all of the family matching outfits. She had a outfit it was a bee 0 to 6 mo she said she would save it for me. I called her to get it and she said she was in Provo, and that I can come pick it up from her. When I got there she said she sold it. I drove 45 min from my house, very unprofessional. I also went to her house prior and left my sons hate and baby blanket, she refuse to give it back. A lot of the costumes were very dirty and smelled of mold. There are a lot of other adds on here with nice honest people.

I am glad that after 45 whole minutes of unprofessional driving she still got there OK. But it is unfortunate that once she got there the Herriman Lady refuse to give her back her son's hate.

This may become a weekly thing. The KSL "Add" Spotlight. Vote yay or nay, all in favor say I.

I want to win a handbag.

Go to this site if you want to enter, too!  If I post this link I get 25 more entries automatically.  It should be a pretty cool site.  http://www.handbagplanet.com

Customer Disservice

As many of you readers know, I shop for a living.  Before that I worked retail at a lot of different stores.  So I presume to know a thing or three about retail.  I also worked at Discover Card which is the best company on the planet.  It is designed in every way to cut through crap.  So the bar on my expectations is set really high.   The following companies don't even come remotely close to touching that bar.  Like if my bar is in New York, their bar isn't somewhere on the Jersey Shore, but waaaay over in like, Taos, New Mexico.

Kimball Roofing.  We had the great fortune of getting a roof replacement negotiated into the contract when buying this house.  It's against code to put shingles on a flat roof.  No one does tar and gravel anymore and that left us with one other option.  Bitumous Membrane.  It's like having really, really thick/wide duct tape rolled over your roof.  Kimball said they could do it.  The guys show up to do the job, a guy Kimball hired out and his dudes.  The guy's three non-English speaking workers are SUPER nice and helpful.  But.  His guys leave cigarette butts all over the place, don't clean up the tar and gravel from demolition and put the membrane on crooked.  I corner him about it.  He says they are workers not artists.  I say it doesn't take an artist to snap a friggin chalk line.  He draws for me a very elaborate wooden veneer that he could build for me for a few thousand dollars that would cover up his shoddy work nicely.  Yeah, that happened.  I was VERY upset.  It's just the beginning.  Days later I notice the swamp cooler is blowing luke warm air.  Brett keeps telling me it's working, but I'm not on board. (Sorry honey)  So I get a free estimate on replacement.  The guy tells me the actual unit is not the problem that it's been totally disconnected and asks if anyone has been on the roof lately.  Kimball.  He tells me that they are required to hook it back up for free, for sure.  So I call them.  It is many moons before I can get a guy to just call me back.  Many more to get a guy to come over.  We set up an appointment finally.  Minutes before he is supposed to be here he asks if he can come back another day because someone took the ladder out of his truck.  I'm hot and angry.  I tell him to GET OVER HERE and I'll find him a friggin ladder.  So he comes over, then doesn't leave.  It takes him TWO DAYS to work on it.  Now this was a while ago and the details are fuzzy but I do remember that because he spent two days at our house, noon and night, at some point I decide to shower.  And I am in my bedroom which across from the hall swamp cooler switch.  That's right.  It's the one time he walks into our house with no verbal announcement.  I defied all laws of the universe to fly through the air and shut the door so this old dude could not get a glimpse of the goods.  I do not think I was successful.  He finally, FINALLY, finishes and leaves me with a cracked switched plate and a slightly dirty feeling.  Next day...it's still blowing warm.  I call Kimball and tell them everything.  They don't care.  The owner of the company is there, he won't take my call.  They totally blow me off and won't send another guy to fix my air or anything.  If I remember correctly we finally went through our home owners warranty and they sent a guy who did it for like 50 bucks.  He ended up fixing it in like an hour and he laughed the whole time about how all the lines were crossed and the water not turned on and the power cable actually severed.  OMG.

Gold's Gym.  Both times I have made the mistake of getting a membership here I have spent moths on the phone trying to fix it.  Both times it went back to the person signing me up. First time the lady took 10 seconds to go over my actual contract and one hour to tell me about her divorce.  The second time he took the hour on my contract, because every time I had a question he had to get up and ask someone the answer.  I hate Gold's gym so much I don't go on principle.  I have a 14 month pass with daycare included up for sale cheap if anyone wants it.  I want to go back to 24 Hour Fitness.

Sprint.  For those of you that know Brett's blog I will not waste your time going over this in massive detail, again.  Needless to say an employee put insurance on Brett's phone and not mine by accident.  And my phone broke.  Then they wouldn't fix my phone or switch the insurance.  I went to a bunch of stores and finally talked to some regional higher up who STILL wouldn't do anything about their employee's mistake.  At store #5 some guy hatches a plan.  To "solve" the problem I will buy a new phone I can use, he will switch the insurance to my account, and he will send in my old phone.  Since it only takes a few days to get my phone fixed, he will just return the phone he sells me.  I hear nothing for over a month.  A guy calls me and tells me my phone is in.  I'm on set for two days, I can't bring it in.  Day three, my dog eats the "new" phone.  Chews it all to hell.  I tell them it's my fault, sure, but they made me buy a phone and it took over a month.  And I should have insurance on my account now because this guy fixed it, right?  Nope.  Still on the WRONG ACCOUNT!  I go back in and I ask the guy if he thinks this is his idea of good customer service and how exactly he thought any of this plan was actually going to be helping the customer.  He rolls his eyes and says, "Ok.  One more time so you get what we did.  You came in with your phone and we gave you a new phone.  Then we sent your phone in to corporate..." He does this over and over.  I am trying to get him to see big picture, how is this helping me.  He and a fake customer pretending to look at phones and another worker all get into this by snickering at everything I say and whispering and rolling their eyes at me and disrespect me...in front of my children.  They made me cry, those big awesome guys at Sprint on the corner of State and Center in Orem.  It's cool to roll your eyes and laugh at a stupid Mom with her stupid kids. My kids tried to comfort me in the car on the drive back home.  Saying, "It's OK Mommy, don't cry.  They weren't nice, Mommy."  Yeah, that happened.  That was just the beginning of a six month tour through Hell with them to finally fix this.  Our service was turned off twice in error.  Our phones don't get reception in our own house and no one knows why.  It's over 400 bucks to get out of our contract.  We are stuck with them until April.

KrispyKreme.  Did you know they don't take 50 or 100 dollar bills?  Me either.  And you don't find out until after you and your kids watch the conveyor for twenty minutes, stand in line for another twenty, finally pick out and box your doughnuts.  They don't tell you until you have done all of this and are standing at the register with two happy drooling little kids that are there being rewarded because they behaved themselves.  And no the manager won't make an exception.  And no I don't have a credit or debit card.  I have actual cash.  But...BUT...they will provide you with cups so you can have a water.  Two crying little kids don't care about having a cup of water when their doughnuts have just been LITERALLY taken from their hands.  'Cause they are better off being in the trash.  Hot light wasn't on I guess?  When we drive by Aidan still says, "Our money isn't good there, huh Mom."

Racelinedirect.com.  I had to buy thousands of dollars of NASCAR merchandise for a shoot.  We didn't have the models picked out yet so we over-bought due to time restraints, in hopes something would fit.  When it came down to the day of the shoot the agency didn't want to overload on Nascar clothes, understandably.  We used a little bit from many sources.  The one ladies T shirt everyone agreed on was from Raceline.  It's in every shot.  We used two of this style shirt.  We return every other piece from there.  It's a big return.  On their website it has a 100% satisfaction guarantee.  It states their policy which I abide by to the letter.   Merchandise in original bags, unopened, with receipt, returned well under the 60 day limit.  But they won't return it.  At first I'm told there will be a fee.  No one can say how much.  They ask the owner, he says he won't return any of it.  I go nuclear.  They tell me to ask Michelle who is in charge of returns who I placed my order with.  She won't call me back.  I get the run around for the third day in a row, and while on hold I get to listen to a recording repeat over and over about their 100% satisfaction guarantee and happy and polite customer service. I finally reach Michelle in the early morning, this morning in fact.  She won't help me and says to talk to the owner.  I tell her how he told me to talk to her.  Nice.  Put him on.  He says there will be a 40% restocking fee.  If I pay 40% of the retail price for the merchandise, I covered his cost of the product and then this Jackass gets to re-sell the merchandise and makes double keystone in profit.  Am I supposed to be dumb?  I say that is UNACCEPTABLE!  Not going to happen.  I agree to 20%.  And I don't even feel it's totally right to pay that under the circumstances.  He tells me that I am not his regular customer.  I faunch.  I say, so it's ok to not honor your word with me because I'm outside your demographic?  I am a professional shopper, I'm the last person you want to piss off.  He tells me it sounds like I'm a professional returner.  I say, whether or not we used your stuff is inconsequential.  It just happened that way.  I bought from you because you guarantee 100% satisfaction and 60 days to return for full money back.  If it had read otherwise I would have not even bothered.  I passed up other NASCAR web sites for less.  I tell him he needs to honor his word.  He tells me he will bring it down to 25%.  I tell him to send me and invoice with the exact totals of the return amount minus the 25% fee.  He sends me a return invoice, with the wrong return amount.  It's short 71.00.  I call to talk to him about it.  I tell him I know it's short.  He says it's not.  I tell him it is and I will call him back in a second.  I calculate with a calculator, Brett calculates even, and it's short.  I call him back.  He left for the day.  That big feathery chicken butt.  I want this man's head.  A shirt from his company was agreed upon by art directors from one of the most elite ad agencies in the entire country,Saatchi and Saatchi X.  It was shot by one of the best photographers, Lori Adamski-Peek, for Sports Illustrated.  And it was chosen by who?  Me.  He gets free publicity in Sports Illustrated thanks to who?  Me.  Instead of being grateful for any of this, he is being utterly dis.respect.ful.  I think he's so busy thinking of how he's getting "screwed" he will never even think to use the fact he got into SI to push his business.  The tard ass.

Timpanogos Temple.  I know that cute little old people volunteer their time to work there but the church would maybe do well to have some sort of training.  I made multiple calls to the Temple to make an appointment to be married and sealed.  They gave me a list of papers I needed to have.  One being a letter confirming Temple Divorcement.  I told them it was over ten years ago and I didn't think I had it.  I asked if it could be requested from Headquarters or whatever.  She didn't know but someone would call me.  A guy we'll call Brother Jensen calls me and tells me to call him.  I actually FIND the letter.  I call him back and say it's all fine, I found it and not to worry and we'd see him there!  Brother Jensen says, no.  That there was more.  My son's Dad couldn't just agree verbally, we had to have it in writing.  My bishop said they were wrong that verbal was good.  I call again to make a date, and they connect me to Brother Jensen again who says there is a note telling him I need to get ONLY written permission and not to let me in.  I tell him I don't have time to discuss it now but I will just get the paper, if there is any question about it at all.  He keeps explaining to me that I NEED this letter, and does so for SO LONG that I hang up on him.  HANG UP!  I asked Ty if he'd agree in writing and said that would be fine, whatever.  Meanwhile Brother Jensen is leaving me messages about how I really need to get this letter and he was sorry we got disconnected.  I steel myself and call him back and explain why I hung up.  Brother Jensen says he can't hear me through our bad connection and says to call back when I am getting better service.  Which will be sometime after April.  We get a home line.  I call back and they tell me...they tell me...that my son is born under the covenant of my first marriage and does not need to be sealed to us.  Because the date on the divorce confirmation letter is three months after he was born, he is somehow "born under the covenant".  I can not speak.  I hand the phone to Brett.  I love this man.  When I can no longer deal because I'm too emotional, which is not often, Brett goes into this place.  This killer protect the flock space and God help the people on the other end of the line.  In this case that's already the Temple so I guess God help us.  Brett talks to this guy and then calls our Bishop.  I tell them both, I just want to get this done.  We're worthy people who love one another and had the miraculous experience of finding each other, having an adoption finalized and an ex that once said, "Over my dead body", change his mind and allow his son to be sealed.  All of these things were perfectly aligned so we could have this singular experience.  

We are so close and yet so far away.  Like New Jersey and New York.

Back to the Future.

I guess it goes back to the day we moved here.  The actual day we moved in is unclear because it was a process to actually get into the house after the renters took 10 days to move their stuff out and two more to come and get their dog.  But in the beginning days of this house we met our new neighbors who turned out to be my old friends from High School.  We all stood out in the street and laughed our butts off for over an hour.  It was like I never left his place.  Now all my frequent Timp High flashbacks have given way to acceptance.  I just live here now.

But last night I was on Facebook waaay too late as usual and I saw my friend Shawn's photos from his High School days in CA.  They are golden 80's evidence.  He has the best bleached out Mohawk ever.  There is one where a crazy looking redhead in a sailor hat strangles a monkey in some jungle themed Sadie Hawkins portrait.   If you have access, you gotta check these out.  I woke up this morning and went right for the Year Books I had just put into our new bookshelves.  I can't put down the one from 1987, my freshman year. 

I am looking at people I haven't in years.  Like Lincoln Sheranian.  Was he gay?  He was so pretty and had lots of gorgeous girl-friends.  Not that I care to know, I'm just speculating.  I still swear in 1995 when I was in London I saw him on the tube.  Patti Bennion was hilarious and fearless what ever happened to her?   And didn't we all used to looove Josh Forrest?  Heidi Hall looks like she wants to Columbine the lot of us.  Who was Stacie Jacobsen?  She looks like a total rocker.  Lisa Harward was so beautiful and she and Stephanie Whitlock used to ask to see my clothing sketches and were really complimentary about them.  I adored her.  I heard she died in a car wreck in the canyon after she graduated.  Ohhh, Sean Peterson.  I was in love with him forever!  First day of 7th grade I was sliding along the wall to class.  You know, walking with my shoulder to the bricks.  I came around the corner and nearly ran into him.  He said, "Hi Amy" and I honestly nearly threw up.  I could barely say hi back and couldn't get out of there fast enough.  And then hated myself every day for years for not being cooler.  Jon Callister liked me in 8th and his friends told me I just had to like him back.  I heard Sean liked me then, too.  One time I dropped Jon off after taking him around on my scooter and ran into Sean by his house.  I took him for a ride and finally talked to him.  And I was so bummed after all of those years of liking him so much that I was kind of "with" another boy and couldn't like him back.  Jon totally lost interest and liked Melody Warner which I didn't blame him for.  She was cute and cool.  And it didn't occur to me to even try and see if Sean liked me still.  I just was sure that ship had sailed.  I had similar issues with Andy Buckles.  I was just sure that ship had sailed because he dated one of my good friends.  But how cute was he?  I should have hit that.

There is an actual picture of Rod Ash at the Homecoming dance.  This dance was such a big deal to me.  I had met Rod's best friend Don at the cemetery the summer before High School started.  He was a grave digger.  Don the grave digger we called him and my girl friends and I used to think he was such an anomaly.  We would go up there looking for him.  I remember consciously thinking that I didn't care about being cool in school if I could be friends with interesting people like Don.  Don found me at the Homecoming Game and introduced me to his friend Rod.  It didn't take long to see that no one was as unanimously considered popular as Rod, not in our school or any other.  At that Homecoming dance, the first dance of the year, the first song, Rod came over to me and said, "Howdy Sailor wanna dance?"  And the girls I was with almost passed out.  Rod was my first date.  Years later at AUM rush we had to make a swim suit out of like six inches of fabric with no needle and thread and then we had to walk into a room full of Rush Masters and Sigma Tau (Frat brother) leaders with spray bottles.  They would ask you questions and you got soaked if they didn't like the answer.  They asked me who was my first date and other things, but someone asked me where I was when I first kissed Rod Ash, if he was a good kisser.  And I said I didn't ever kiss Rod Ash.  Or Don Terry.  And everyone just sat there stunned and confused.  They ushered me out pretty dry.

At AUM I became friends with Heather Heileson.  There was not a girl in school cooler then Heather and I'll tell you why.  Someone had started a landslide of public negativity about Heather that lasted all four years.  She knew about it for the most part, but she sort of existed on a whole other level.  She was so funny and so smart.  I admired and respected and adored her.  She became a doctor and married a man that thought she hung the moon.  I hope with my whole heart she is happy.

In the Seniors there is DC Wright who I would have married had he formally asked me after his mission and Mike Butterfield who should have kissed me when we were drunk in the rain at Hyde Park in '95 but wisely refrained.  And James.  James William Connelly.  Jukes Bapaloosa.  He looks so handsome.  I haven't seen his face in years and years.  I tore up or burned every picture I had of him.  I had to.  I don't think there ever was a boy more sweet and kind to a girl then James was to me.  And I don't think a girl was ever more devoted then I was to him.  I can still break wide open if I think about it too long.  After we broke up, Malcolm Moody, Eric Larson and Jim Melo were there to pick up the pieces and talk for hours, take me biking and climbing and are still among my dearest and most loved friends. 

All of these years spent with these people.  I know that the consensus is that if High School was the best time of your life you must be a giant loser.  I guess I'm a total has been then.  It was the best time of my life.  Without question.  And I'm seeing that now that I'm home.  I think it was God's plan for me to have a blessed social experience because everything at home was an absolute train wreck from the time I was born.  I'm grateful for these people and that they are still around and I still know them and I'm back here.  It's a big reminder that God wants things to be fun and easy for us.  I hope my kids have the same beautiful crazy messed up moments I had.  I hope Aidan is friends with the Rod of his school and Bella makes Homecoming Queen by three votes.  I hope Aidan sneaks out to meet his friends at Denny's and Bella makes out with a crazy older boy at a Halloween party in front of everyone.  These moments make us smile through paying the bills, the nights cleaning up toddler barf and filing insurance claims after wrecking the car.  At least, they do for me.  

Who the heck is Martha Chadwick?

Spring 09. the "A"s.

It takes a long time to go through fashion shows on the internet after Fashion Week in NYC. I have only just made it through the A's. I will give you the highlights according to me. It should save you time and frustration, not having to hit the "next" arrow over and over and over and ov...

So let's start with a newbie. I am not so far familiar with the work of Amanda Wakeley. But I found her things to be pretty, wearable, and clean looking. She should stay away from swim, though. But almost everything else was lovely and she used a color I love that my mum and I call Monkey Vomit Green. It's like an olive drab. And everything she showed made sense, which is a huge must for me. I have a real problem with designers that have a show that makes it look like they sketched the first three looks after watching a Tarrantino film and then the next following a gypsy wedding and the last bunch while visiting an Aunt in Winnimucka. I like it when someone has a cohesive plan to their show and knows what they want and goes for it.

I could recant all of these comments in the case of the Antoni and Alison show. I think they got high and watched Dirty Dancing. So they knew what they wanted and had a cohesive theme and boy howdy they went for it. But in this case that's unfortunate. The stills show unhappy, nearly embarrassed girls in ugly hawaiian catastrophes holding fruit and ukeleles on a yellow stage decorated with a left over drop from the local community production of South Pacific. I am sure this was all kitschy and intentional. And that's even worse.

I also hope to never see a show by Armand Basi ever again. If you like dressing like a Goth/Punk 80's pop Genie, he's your guy.

Anna Sui. I have a soft spot for her. I always have. Even for a while there when she seemed to have lost her way, when she thought that boho was never coming back and she had better succumb or lose her business. I love those years for her because as soon as she saw the light at the end of the repression tunnel she got out her pen and drew up the best stuff. Those boots she's been showing lately are fierce. This season she has some similar boots again and also the cutest ankle ruffle shoes on the planet. I heart them in white. It wasn't all perfection though. She lost her way a few times from the rocker indian theme and tried an outright spanish bullfighter bolero look with a lace stacked hat and all. Ugh! And the snoods were spread waaaaay too liberally around. I thought they worked on two girls with the most 30's inspired looks and no where else. She had in my opinion the BEST models and the BEST hair and make-up hands down, though. So even on the looks that seemed too contrived I found I didn't care so much having the pretty faces to look at instead. This is why she's genius. She didn't forget that's the whole point of the model. Her shows are blissful.

Then there are design houses like Abaete that I don't at all enjoy. And I know they have a following, but I am no part of it. Some people really like severity, or Alexandra Kotur wouldn't have clothes to wear. I kid. Sorta. But I think stark really is for a limited audience. Not many women want to look like a cubist painting. And if they do it's a mood they soon get over. Like Proenza Schuler. It seems like a fun idea once and then you wear it and wonder why you just feel...off. But never do in Temperley. Because at the end of the day most of us just really want to look like pretty girls. I think it's why Rachel Zoe resonates with women and her girls do, too. Fashion has been stuck for too long without the breezy sexiness of the LA influence. And it is needed. New York is the fashion capital of the world but it's not the breezy/fun capitol. And it shows in what it bleeds out of it's designers a lot of the time.

Bless the girls that bring the fashion sunshine. And now off to the B's...

The Latest Issues.

So what happened to the last three posts you may be asking yourself?  I deleted them about an hour ago.   A month ago I went through and I took care of a post and some comments I left behind, Sopranos style.  I do this.  I kill my darlings.  Why?  Because I have raging insecurity when it comes to blogging about myself.  I write stuff and then later in a weird moment I decide people will think I sound smug, or full of myself or self obsessed or self righteous.  I am afraid I am about to anger/frustrate/offend someone I can not see.  So I stick to reading a lot and saying little.  Out of fear.

I think fear is self obsessive, self indulgent and smug.  Being afraid of what people will think and trying to control it is futile.  Besides, even if I have ten people I can't see judging me for the things I say "wrong" I can count at least three people I now consider friends that I have met through this blog.  And those people are a part of my day now and I really enjoy them and they don't seem to be easily offended.  Which is a great trait in a friend.

And really, I like blogs about people.  I read one tonight about a girl who lives in NYC and is a Mormon actress.  Her blog was like, momoninmanhattan.blogspot.com  I think.  And she is just lovely and she talks about herself and the people she works with but I never thought she should just shut up and stop talking about herself!  Isn't that the point of a personal blog?  

I think it may be interesting to people who know and don't know me to hear about my job, about the fights I get into or out of, teehee, and if I am acting a little full of myself or sound a little self interested couldn't someone big just forgive me that little foible?  Sure they could.  Right?  I dunno.  But I am awfully tired of trying to keep my trap shut all the time just out of fear.  Aren't you?

I am just not cool.

Here is a list of things that are or were huge and I will never be into, thus making me not cool.  

1.  Twilight.  Why-It was written for teens.  And female Americans have lost their collective minds over it.  Sigh.  

2.  The Lord of the Rings.  Why-It's full of stupid contrived words.  I couldn't make it three minutes into the film with all that narration.  Blah, Blah,Blah.  And when she stops talking...Hobbits.

3. Star Wars.  Why-I liked the first two.  Isn't that enough?  And more made up stupid words, like Padiwan.  What is that?

4. Pretty Woman.  Why-The scene where people are NOT nice to her in the store but then she gets to go back and tell them "Big Mistake"?  Why do people STILL talk about that scene?  And-She's a whore and she gets the handsome rich guy in the end!?!

5.  Julia Roberts.  Why-See #4.

6.  Harry Potter.  Why-Because so many people could not stop talking about it for so long.  And again, it's meant for kids!

7.  Molly Ringwald.  Why-She is getting good reviews again for this new show she's on.  I watched a scene.  She sucked THEN and she sucks NOW!  Did you buy her as the prom queen in Breakfast Club?  

8.  Tom Cruise.  Why-I was right all along!  He is weird and I always knew it.  All my friends loved him but it will never, ever happen for me.  Even if this Hitler movie fixes his image.

9.  Jennifer Aniston.  Why-She seems nice but she dated John Mayer and she just isn't pretty.  She's not!  Nice hair and boobs don't mean you're pretty.  And-I hear first hand she's a blaizoid.

10.  The Gap Inc.  This includes Old Navy and Banana Republic.  I know it's a weird thing.  But did you know the original intent of Old Navy was to replace Kmart?  It was geared specifically to Kmart shoppers.  Banana was a cool outdoor store at one time.  Remember that?  Gap sucked all of the life out of it.  Like a vampire from a stupid teen novel.

That's my list, and you don't have to agree with me.  It's just one gal's opinion.

Rocky Mountain High

So we are going to Boulder for a wedding this weekend.  And then I have a pre-production meeting in SLC Monday, prep day Tuesday for a shoot Wed for Elmira Business School.  And then Brett and Jenny will do a photo shoot with Ty in our yard and they are totally letting me do art and stuff.  And then I have another shoot for Left Turn but I'm not sure who the client is, Novell?  So there's that.  And I REALLY have to stock my depleted kit.  I want to meet Amanda and take her to thrift stores while she's here in Utah.  I'm committed to talk to Bron who is being so kind as to learn me about REAL film make-up, and who is in town for a limited time.  And Aidan starts school Monday and I have a stack of his registration papers.  I have to book the temple for our wedding but my recommend expired so I have to get an appointment to update that.  I have to still get my new IDs for the I-9 so I can finally get paid from HSM.  And I have to prime and paint and plum the new bathroom vanity.  And call about our medical insurance.  And fix the windshield chip.  And teach Sunbeams.  Visit teach..?

I can't do any of these things now so I'm going to bed.  I have a cold.  But I get to see my family, so nothing will stop me from making my husband drive all the way to Colorado in the middle of all of this.  Some things are just more important.

Salt of the Earth.

It was nice to go back to the City today.  At the car dealership they didn't charge me for labor so my bill was just 2.00 for a tail light bulb.  That was just the beginning of a great day.

I went to the Designer Fabric store.  They are having a step down sale.  Starting in July the fabric just goes more and more on sale.  This stuff is normally 40.00 a yard.  IT goes to like 20 then 10 then 5 and 4 and 3 then after Aug 11 the fabric takes it's final step down to 2.00 a yard.  I bought some today for 3.00 that matches my living room perfectly.  27.00 for wool living room curtains.  

I went to Decades.  If I had a wider readership I would not be breathing this name out loud for fear it will become too picked over, but I pretty much know who tunes in here.  Decades had about fourteen dresses, six hand bags, a wool coat and a tweed suit I really wanted to buy.  Cornflower blue beaded dress I was in totally love with?  32.00.  I didn't have enough cash, sadly.  (And isn't a beaded dress a bit much for a pasture wedding in the Colorado mountains?  I'm still thinking about making a dress of my creme eyelet wedding tablecloths.  You can wear off-white to a wedding safely, right?  Maybe not...)

I got donuts and Pepsi at Wayne's Corner Market and he told me a funny story about his wife having kids every 20 months to the day, to the hour!  All born at one in the afternoon like clockwork.

I went in to Cosmic Pictures and got a pleasant surprise.  Backstory:  I felt suddenly inspired in Legoland to sell our house.  Until that point I was totally certain this was the house we were supposed to raise our kids in and felt forced to make it work.  But I could suddenly see that selling it would pay off all our debt and leave a bit for a down payment and fix up the next one.  I thought of the house on the corner of Timpview Dr and 3950.  Just west of our current house.  It was designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright.  I love it.  I get it.  It functions.  I can see my family there.  I can see friends over.  I get this house and it gets me.  My friends own it.  I'd love to give money to people I love.  BUT- others have told me they tried to buy it and my friend didn't want to sell.  I called him a few weeks ago and left a message and he didn't call me back.  I left him a note.  I really had little hope but knew that if this was a real feeling, this feeling that this was supposed to be our house, that it would work out and I didn't have to keep calling him.  I let it go.   

So I went to Cosmic Pictures   And there is my friend that owns the house.  I've not seen him there in all of the four years I've been with them.  And since it was a surprise, I wasn't in my head about saying anything stupid or wrong, I just asked if they would want to sell us their house.  He said they used to want to keep it as a rental but he's tired of working on it.   With them not living in the same town, he can't just stop by and do the work.  And they would use the money to put toward their other mortgage.  He seemed to be excited to do it.  But he has to ask his wife.  He's a good man.

Now, keep in mind I don't feel like this was my idea.  I just downloaded the concept.  One minute I'm hanging out and the next minute I have this plan completely formed and already there in my consciousness.  The next part of the idea is to call the realtor that sold us our house.  At the time he told us that if we wanted to turn around and sell it, he had a friend who fixes and flips homes that was really interested.  We told him no, but he brought it up a few times so I know he was serious.  I remembered this and totally feel like it's worth investigating.  (Unless you want our house...)  If it all works out the way I see it we will be out of this house without our doing any serious work to it and into an adorable house, in the same neighborhood, on the same street, in the same school and ward, with a lower house payment and all our debt...gone.  (Other than the mortgage, of course.)  Can I get a booyah!?!  

Oh, and the gas extender we've been trying totally works.  (Unlike the last one...)  If you want some, we are trying to get more free samples.  Brett just made a web site so others can order it, too.  (I'll post it's address once I remember what it is.)  So I don't feel guilty going to the city.  And that's great because Decades has layaway...

My Mommy is nice.

My mom took my kids over the weekend after my last shoot.  For three days, she had them.  So Brett and I worked on the mold rooms and took loads to the dump and DI and watched a movie that made me cry and tried to get pregnant.  It was a good rest and I actually am happy to see my kids and even happy to resume work on the house this week.  (Thanks in big part to all of your VERY kind words.  You guys really healed up a lot of self pity with your awesome comments!)  Mom bought the kids some new clothes to go to my cousin's wedding which is a big help because heaven knows when it comes to dressing my kids, I tend to over think it.  We are super excited for the Thrills shows at Sundance!!  I'm excited also to finally see the last batch of Cosmic and Fueld commercials I have worked on.  This year has not been as over jammed with work, like some others, but I have worked on some of my favorite shoots, ever.  And I am still watching my girl Christina on HSM Get in the Picture.  I sewed her outfit (sewed her into it even) and she was very nice.  VERY.  I am hoping she goes really far, if not all the way.  (I do think I know who wins, but it's staying in me till the end!!) 

And girls, lets start a *itch and stitch!  Declare your availability for next week.  I'm hosting, which means Coke Zero and Powdered doughnuts for all!  I am so very happy to be able to finally have people over and not worry about mold spores.

Home is where you hang your hate.

It's my fault I hate my current house.  A long time ago I had a house in South Provo.  Aidan's Dad and I bought it from a couple that had really done a neat job fixing it up.  We did some tweaking, too.  All of my extra time was pretty much spent thrift shopping for decor seeing as how I was mostly a stay at home mom back then.  We painted and landscaped.  It turned out so well I over did the self congratulation. When it came time to sell it, I cried for days like it was the end of the world.  I cried more over that house than I did my Ex.  But then again, the house never cheated on me and called me bad names behind my back.  We sold it for 15,000 more than we paid which was really pretty good at the time and for the BYU area. 

Cut to: Years later, I listen as I hear myself saying to my husband and the Realtor that I can fix up this house.  I did not take into account the following...

1.  I have quit drinking coffee.  I used to have half a pot at breakfast, a latte or an espresso in the afternoon and at least one more cup around four or five.  I could have cut the lawn with fingernail clippers I was so high.

2.  I had one child.  And he liked to play quietly, by himself, for hours.

3.  Ty really did a majority of the work.

4.  Ty had a Dad that told us how to do a majority of the work.

5.  Most of the hard stuff was done before we got there.

6.  The disastrous, slap-dash construction of this house VS the old solid one.

7.  I am kinda old.

8.  I have an actual career now that takes actual effort.

9.  We do not have credit cards with tens of thousands of dollars available to us.  (Thankfully, really.)

10.  I am a raving lunatic.  And I don't know what the hell I am talking about.  I mean this kind of thing needs to go to people that really know what they are doing not someone who can paint some tile and lay some flooring.  And Brett didn't know the total depths of my insanity since we had only been married a year.  After seeing how hard it is for my neighbor who is a professional, I am stymied I ever thought I could do it on my own.

So in buying this house my mouth wrote a check that my Butt can't cash.  In the meantime...  

1.  We have one bathroom.  And it doesn't really work.  We are all showering in a 3X3 ft shower with broken tiles and twenty year old non-skid flower decals that make me wonder how many Y students have peed on them.  

2.  About seven hundred square feet of our downstairs is infected with mold.  One day I lost my mind and I just pulled off the faux wood paneling for no reason.  Now if I had not done this the mold would not have been an issue.  It would have been sealed up in there and stayed in it's little happy place and since it's not the toxic kind and we are not allergic we'd have been fine.  We could have painted and laid carpet and let it go like that forever.  I unleashed it.  And now it's angry and blames me for all of it's problems.  

3.  The stairs to the deck are a rotting wooden death-trap.  One is even missing.  Not only have the kids tripped over it countless times but the dog actually fell through to the concrete down below.  Which is a good ten foot drop.  He is OK.  Just stupid and that's unrelated.

4.  The dishwasher falls out of the wall.  And the dish rack comes rolling out onto the floor, or my foot, or the dog.  And the dishes all fall out and break or spill out everywhere and need to be re-washed and scraped of pug hair.

5.  The downstairs has asbestos ceilings and asbestos tiles and asbestos tar adhesive holding down the asbestos tiles.  No plumber or construction worker or person of intelligence will come down and work on our house for even just one day, even one hour, because exposure might make them die a horrible death many years from now.  So we have that to look forward to.

Living here reminds me every day of my life that I am full of myself and I'm an idiot and I am living in a place that I said I could fix, but instead endangers my family and neighbors and dog and thus makes me want to cry every minute I'm in it.  

Brett and I share an odd factoid.  We have both moved over 30 times.  Our families broke and set and re-broke repeatedly like bones that didn't knit right.  Brett moved almost 20 times before he was 21.  NOT counting his mission.  I moved, I think, 27 times total.  My son has moved six times in his short 8 years.  We all are tired.  We are all disappointed.  We all want our lives to just...start.  To just have friends and family come for dinner, to have neighborhood kids stay over night, to use a working bathtub.  If Brett had lost a limb in the military or one of my kids had been diagnosed terminal we might qualify for an Extreme Home Make-over.  But we are not messed up enough as to receive television charity and not pulled together enough to qualify to be what we have always wanted to be.  Just a normal family.

Get out your copy of Singles...

I love fashion and I have never posted anything about it, really.  I follow it religiously which has gotten me into trouble in the past.  (See Prom Dress Debacle on Top 5 Most Embarrassing list from past blog entry.)   I wouldn't blame you for thinking I know nothing about it were we ever to meet.  I follow it on the inside.  Brett has his music, I have my fashion.  But I don't know how he does it since there are new bands nearly every five minutes and half of their music sounds the same.  

I don't have many talents.  I really don't.  And especially not compared to Brett.  But for as long as I can remember I have been able to tell what's going to happen in fashion.  I may or may not choose to participate, but I know what's going on.  My ex-step sister Amanda who lives in Reno informed me about a year ago that the 80's were coming back!  See, with hip networks like this how can I not know what's going to be cool.

So to inform you all officially, get ready to WELCOME IN THE 90'S.  It's brewing like a pot of coffee at The Central Perk.  All of the old music is subversively being routed into soundtracks, girls in Doc's are in magazines and even Urban Outfitters is showing 8-10 eye work boots with babydolls.  Teen Vogue practically began it.  They primed the pump by showing boots with party dresses close to two years ago.  Dakota Fanning wore MJ platform combat boots with a taffeta dress in her Teen Vogue spread, and she asked to keep them.  It's been snowballing since.  About then Marc Jacobs came out with a fall line very inspired by Grunge.  It was waaaay too early for most and he quickly recanted with his next show being nearly Chanel like in nature.  But it's the decade he is sprinting to embrace since it was the first decade he found recognition.  But I digress...  Brett and I just watched an episode of Fear Itself and the girl was in a great jersey grecian dress with combat boots.  The Dark Knight even will begin to turn a lot of young people towards darker themes and old school goth inspired fashion, like The Crow did.  Dust off your Doc's if you've got 'em.

Don't believe me?  Let's do the math.  The children of the 90's are coming into the 13-25 year old age group where they are asked to pick and choose and they will use old faint memories of what their big brothers and sisters did and wore to inspire them.  And they'll use the excuse that they think it's funny to "remember" grunge.  But because no one wants to be a full-on copy cat it will be twisted up with small doses of the 30's and 60's and Emo and Punk and a generous helping of hipster thanks to American Apparel and UO.

But one thing is for sure.  None of those themes have anything to do with Paris Hilton.  In fact any girl that considers herself a fashionista ( a term I loathe, LOATHE!! ) and has used tons of money to buy her style will have to start using it to look like she's a broke artist, or not be cool.  Celebutants will fire their agents and publicists.  Celebrities will be falling all over themselves trying to remind people they have street cred while sporting designer combat boots and utility handbags.  But money will be out, power to the people.  Oh, and it also is an election year and we are in a recession that is not being called a recession.  So, go new grunge style, what ever you will be called!  I will look forward to seeing you hit your stride next couple of years on the coasts and reach Utah in 2011-2012 if the wind is right.  I already bought my slumpy vintage dresses and round-toed wingtips.  Join me and begin a revolution.

Welcome to the Hotel California.

So we went to California.  We stayed at the Carlsbad Holiday Inn.  Aidan asked if it was a Motel, a Hotel or an Inn.  It oddly was neither of the above.  It was a windmill.  

So the first day we went to Legoland.  There were not so many people there since it was a work day.  The weather was a perfect temperature, in the 70's.  We casually went from ride to ride as a group and everyone was able to have a decent time and do what they wanted.  And then it all took a dark turn.

Aidan was the only kid that wanted to go to the obstacle course.  So I sat on a wall and waited with some other tired parents when I heard screaming.  A very large young boy was being dragged down from the upper level by his wrist.  His mom pulled him down the stairs and the boy continued to scream, "I am controlling my anger!!"  Keep in mind, I have never heard a human unleash this kind of sound.  Screaming from the inner depths of hell in his dark, ugly soul.  He was let go of, mistakenly, once they reached the bottom of the stairs.  The Mom kept walking towards the exit I guess assuming he'd follow?  But the boy went over to a man sitting by a stroller and spit in his face and screamed, "I hate you, I hate all of you."  And in that moment I thought I was seeing a troubled boy spit in the face of his father.  The man, sat with no emotion in his face.  The boy, still screaming, left that man and moved down the wall.  We locked eyes and he began to swing his fists and come at me.  The boy is about to punch me in the face and is screaming that he hates all of us, all of us and I am just watching from outside of myself.  His mother catches him around the waist with his fists inches from my face.  He swings angrily at the air while his Ma drags him back.  I say, "I thought he was going to punch me in the face!"  She smiles and says in that Mom in denial tone, "He's just frustrated..."  And then they are gone.  And the two women next to me and I are left with our mouths open.  We laugh at her ignorance and the woman nearest me says that she would ring her kid's tail if he ever acted like that.  We all agree that he is the kind of kid that grows up only to go totally Columbine one day.  No joke.  And then I think, "Hold the phone that guy isn't his Dad!"  Cool as a cucumber he still sat motionless with his sunglasses on with zero change in his expression.  Like he has strange kids spit on him everyday.

The next day was Beach Day and everyone got in a fight because we all set up different camps on the beach and no one wanted to pick up and move to be closer to one another.   So there was a camp one and a camp two.  Both camps one and two couldn't let it go that the other camp was so full of pride that they wouldn't budge to be by their camp.  I felt like Mom should lay down the matriarch trump card but she didn't play it, because she's nice.  While camp one was packing up to go, camp two came over to camp one.  Then the four Measom/ Merritt's went alone to a little local corner taco shop and the others went to a big fancy sushi restaurant.  I got sick, I think from the taco shop, and couldn't eat desert at the sushi place.  I had to go back to the room right quick...

Saturday we went to Sea World.  Imagine that all of Southern California decides collectively one weekend to not go shopping at Walmart but go see some whales instead.  This would be the weekend we decided to go.  And it's a million degrees even though it's supposed to be 70.  And my neck is out because of the Hotel bed and I'm super sunburned from Beach Day even though I spent fifty bucks and three weeks tanning.  And there are four families with young kids in double wide strollers and three single people and a senior all trying to navigate through thousands of people and talk to one another about where we all want to go and what we want to do and how to get there and who needs to pee or breast-feed or eat and height requirements for rides and explain it all over again to the next family while we are trying to find the three year olds that ran off in the crowd and buy churros and water and find shade.  I was miserable for six and three quarters of the nine hours there.   I spent fifty five dollars on lunch.  At the end of the day just our family went to the arctic exhibit which was nice and cool and fun to be at.  Bella found a spot up front of the crowd at the walrus pool and they had just been fed.  They eat and re-eat their food by barfing it up on the window and then chewing it back up for easier digestion.  So you get a clear view of regurgitated walrus chow.  Bella gagged hard, twice, and each time the crowd collectively went, "WOAH!" I reached her and stopped her from gagging a third time and bolted to an area that looked easy to clean.  We then went to the log flume which we insisted to the kids was going to be fun.  It scared them so badly that we are still apologizing.  It wasn't so much a flume as an actual roller coaster.  Aidan keeps recalling it and crying openly.

TMI alert:  On the way home I was sad to get my period even though I had spent the weeksuper uncomfortable and bloated as a house.   Because although two tests told me I was not in fact pregnant I was just certain I must be after being huge and over a week late for something like the eleventh month in a row.  That night we got to stop in Vegas and stay with Brett's pregnant sister and his baby nephew while I'm doubled over with cramps eating ineffective ibuprofen wishing my laundry to hurry and defy physics and dry in five minutes.  We drove home in bad moods.

Brett and I are getting divorced.  I can not conceive an actual child with a man I am married to.  In my experience he has to secretly want to demean me and treat me like crap for me to be able to conceive with him so he's going to work on those character flaws while we file the paperwork.  By the time it's finalized I should be knocked-up proper.  With any luck we can then take our new bastard baby to Sea World.  

Murder at the Merritt's.

Bella and her friends got along well yesterday.  They pretended that they were a family of chefs that had a couple kids, in the form of Bell's baby dolls.  I was getting ready for my big date with Brett.  When it came time to leave we just kicked the girls out and sent Bella with the sitter to go bowling.

This morning Bell brings me some little pieces of pink plastic from the backyard and asks what they are.  I can tell she knows they mean something but can't place their importance. This is not new, there are pieces of things strewn all over our backyard.  Purple Styrofoam noodle bits, water guns, shredded pool balls.  You name it and our dill-hole dog has shredded it and strewn it about the lawn.  (No one ever told me this about Pugs.  And I asked a lot of people about them.  For seven years.)  So she places the pink things in my palm and I turn them over noticing they are softer than the usual stuff Pugmann finds to chew up.  And it's a nose and an ear.  And I scream like it's really a detached human face I'm holding.  Because...

Brett and I have been trying to get pregnant for a while now.  I joke with everyone that we are getting divorced because I am incapable of conceiving a child with someone I'm actually married to.  But I got Bella this little baby doll that I fell in love with.  She looked and felt real and said cute things in a cute and not annoying voice, like, "Mama?  Mama. Dada? Dada."  And then she'd laugh.  And she sucked on a baba and went to sleep and breathed deeply and her chest would rise and fall while her eyes would close and she'd look so peaceful.  And that is what the dog ate.  He ate my baby's face.  

So I told Brett when he came home for lunch that we knew harm had befallen Baby but we didn't know what the animal did with her body.  Brett looked around and found her face down in the basement like Jon-Benet.  Without the garroting.  Or pineapple in her stomach.  But I digress.  So I pick her up and brought her upstairs, not thinking about leaving a pristine crime scene, again paralleling nearly exactly the Jon-Benet case.  And I show Brett her face.  Brett asks Bella if she wants to see baby before she goes night night forever.  I mouth, "NO!"  And whisper that it will traumatize her.  He covers Baby's open mechanical face with his hand and lets her kiss the top of her head.  I wrap her in an old rug and throw her in the garbage can outside.  Now paralleling the crazy Utah County case from a few years back where the husband got caught in a web of lies and killed his wife and threw her out in a rug in an attempt to keep from their families that he didn't get into Med School.  (Guess what?  They found out, dip shizzle!  And also, good call unnamed med school.  He obviously wouldn't have handled the pressure.)

So the dingo ate my baby and now the dingo is roaming free in the neighborhood somewhere avoiding prosecution.  He better make a break for Mexico.

My Journey is an OK band from the 80's.

Right before Father's Day I found out my Father, Step-Mom and little Sister have been keeping from me that they don't believe in the church anymore and have not gone in two years. (My little sister over stated that because two years ago my dad was Sunday School President. So it must be just shy of two.) She is seventeen and had to tell me because the real adults were too busy basting themselves and stuffing themselves with seasoned bread crumbs. But it's all OK I am told, because they are on "A Journey".

I told my older sister about their lying to me for 2 years and leaving the church and she said, with a big grin on her face, "Awesome." I looked at her sideways and said, "I'm sorry?" And she said that she just meant it was great because it meant they were now on their journey. So two things, I had to be the bigger person and let it go in front of my kids. (Not that I believed a word of it, she secretly hates the church.) And there was that word again.

Father's Day is the special day I went on my first date with Trace, Bella's DNA donor. He, too had left the church and was on what he called a journey, to find his truth. He said he was happy I had found mine in the church because he had tried but couldn't. I told him we were going in different directions. He said we were both going in the same direction because we were both on journeys to find our truths. I gotta admit I didn't get it. During our short relationship he would periodically get upset at me for not allowing him the "blessing" of "helping" me. He then was kind enough to help me out of an apartment I had lined up. He then helped me out of a job interview. He said I should move my stuff into his garage and hang out at his house and let him help me some more. He helped me get pregnant and then he helped me hate myself every hour of every day for the next three years after he bailed and proceeded to make decisions that were all about him and his life journey which included anything and everything he could think of without bounds to try and save himself any negative outcome. Financially, emotionally, socially. And at my expense if necessary. Or my girl's. He does "help" remind me that the church is 100% true, however. Because the year I started to come back to church HE is what Satan tried to throw at me. A person and his Journey.

I guess some people get tired of church service and want to do other things like sit down and concentrate really hard on themselves. Because it's really, really important to think for long periods of time about yourself in order to find your truth. So that when you're faced with a decision you know exactly how you should act in order to be true to yourself, to try and create outcomes that you need to have happen in order to make things better for you. So that you're happy. On your journey.

If your journey to find your truth means you're doing things like lying to your family or leaving a pivotal life situation that you helped create...then your truth is full of shit.

I've never been interested in my truth, I am interested in THE truth. God's truth. Unconditionally, I just asked for his truth, whatever it may be. And now the question of truth is to me never in question. All together, "Don't stop...believe-n."

Men.

Oddly, you seem to be the bulk of my readers.  Maybe because Brett's friends check in.  Whatever the reason I have a reward for you!  It is the Holy Grail of relationship harmony.  It is finally that one thing women are not telling you because they feel you should already know it and if you don't we are not about to tell you because for crying out loud you should be able to just figure it out for yourselves.  Yes, you knew all along there was something we were holding over you.  You're very smart.

It is called, Validation.  Use it, become it.  You will thank me.  It does two things, gets you off the hook and it calms us women down right quick.  You don't actually have to be listening fully or thinking at all for this to work!  I know, it's awesome.

Practice the following sentences.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Babe.  That totally sucks!"  

This is all you have to say.  It's OK to say it a few times.  In fact, sprinkle liberally.  This works for nearly everything.  Nearly.  Some examples are, when your wife complains about the poor treatment she received from her mom, the girl at the Gap, neighbors, the kids, mechanics.  Or if she loses items up to and including car keys, the dog, her favorite lip stick, her sanity, the car in the mall parking lot.  (But NOT her figure.  Anything to do with her body image will be addressed later.) 

"I completely understand ______."  

Insert: 

"Why you'd feel that way."  

"Why you think that."  

"Why you did that."  

"Why you said that."  

Infinity.  You must close with, "You are not crazy."

 Again, little effort is required.  If you do happen to accidentally hear any small piece of usable information, maximize on that.  If she mentions her crazy sister, say, "I completely understand why you said that to your sister, 'cause she's so crazy!"

"I can see why you have that point of view." Or "I understand how you could see it that way."

You do not have to believe this to say it.  You may have a totally different opinion.  I repeat, you may have a different opinion.  Not relevent!  Not that we don't care about your point of view.  We care.  But not until after we have been...what?  That's right, validated.  Women do this thing called, VENTING.  And when we do it we call you, usually exasperated, the way we used to call our high school girl friends.  And we do this because since we've gotten married we no longer have girl-friends.

Now for the Crown Jewel on the Holy Grail of relationship harmony.  I'm aware I'm mixing metaphors.  It is Sexual Validation.  Woman attach their body image directly to their sexual identity.  And it's all Mr Heffner's fault.  If you ever get stuck in the body validation trap you do not have to chew your arm off for fear of losing your life.  Validate.  

She says something like, "Since I had the baby I just feel so loose and flabby."  "I really, really need to get to the Gym."  or even a straightforward "I'm sooo FAT!"

Repeat something very close to the following.  "If this is you getting fat then I am READY for your jelly.  Get the kids in the car, we are going for Ice Cream."  Optional: Palm her butt cheek and kiss her on the neck.  DO NOT pat her butt and make her fat jiggle.  DO NOT slap her on the butt, that feels degrading.  Cup it gently, and lean in and kiss her on the neck or cheek.  Or that spot behind our ears, we like that.  And seriously take us out for Ice Cream.  When we know we are hot we feel better.  If we feel better we want to feel even better and we want to work out and be happy.  If we are sent into a spiral of depression we get fatter and fatter.  You telling us that our gaining five pounds is not the worst thing in the world takes all of the energy out of it.  "Does my butt look fat in these pants?"  You say, "I'm sorry, were you speaking?  I was just lost in the total juiciness of your back side."  This is a good time to spank her on the ass.  See the difference?  Well she will.  Trust me.

Next week we will talk about validating but using your actions instead of words.  Like watching TV or playing games on the computer instead of coming to bed with your wife where the possibility of getting a lil somethin' is at about 85%.  Versus in the living-room holding your clicker or the kitchen with your Mac.  Where its nil.

Good luck.  Happy validating.  I know you can do it.  (See it works.)