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Archive for July, 2009

When Best Friends Fight

July 31st, 2009

For the past month I have been at odds with my best friend, Karina the Russian. It has been eating at me and tearing me apart because this girl has been there for me through so much.

She moved me out of the haunted house on the mountain, only a week after meeting me, because she knew what it was like to get out of a toxic relationship. She taught me how to smile again when I didn’t think I had it in me. She told me that I am amazing and beautiful and my hair smells nice too, because I needed to hear those things.

Whenever I had a bad day, she was there. Whenever I needed to take care of a wild hair up my ass, she was there – vodka in hand. We’ve laughed together, we’ve cried together, we have memory after countless memory together, many of them documented on this blog.  She was my non-lesbian date through all of the holidays. She broke into my apartment when I lost the key. She supported me going back to school. She made me breakfast and bought me cookies, “Sandy Mandy” cookies (one of my personal favorite posts). She has been my rock. She has been my best friend.

Going a whole month without her has been horrible! The worst part being I had no idea what was causing the strain between us. I pretended like it didn’t bother me, but it was eating me alive! It even gave me nightmares.

We finally spoke! I hate that it was over the phone, but we spoke none the less and it was more then the “so what ‘cha been up to” crap. Oh sure it started out that way but in no time we were both blubbering over the phone telling each other all about hurt feelings this and afraid to tell you thats. I don’t know that we came up for air for about an hour. By the time we had both calmed down and we (mostly I) apologized for not being there for one another I felt like a giant weight had been lifted off my chest. NO, better yet, I felt like I just got handed a giant chocolate bar with toffee and caramel and almonds all mixed together in a perfect gourmet blend with zero calories and zero guilt AND this perfect chocolate bar was handed to me right after having PMS for 2 weeks straight!

I HAVE MY BEST FRIEND BACK!

I’m telling you, once you go Russian you never go back… Russian BFF that is.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

K to the R stories

How I Know My Sister Loves Me

July 30th, 2009

I leave for my Mexican love fest vacation with my sexy man in 2 weeks! This is a freaking huge deal to me. It will be the first time ED and I have traveled outside of Utah together, the first time he has ever left the country, PLUS we will be celebrating his 30th birthday!

My sister Staci knows how excited I am for this trip and today she dropped a rare little gem in the any time I think of this it will make me feel good box.

Me: “Holy crap, can you believe I leave for Mexico IN TWO WEEKS? I worked out so hard yesterday I can barely walk.”

Staci: “That sucks. Especially ’cause it’s always worse the next day so you’re really not going to be able to walk then.”

Me: “Great. Thanks. But it’s what I gotta do.”

Staci: “Well you can always get an abscess tooth like me, then you really can’t eat anything.”

Me: “No, I like eating too much plus it’s the whole lifting and toning thing I need help with. But at least I have been working on it for a while so I think if I just kill myself at the gym the next two weeks I’ll be ready.”

Staci: “Yeah I was going to tell you the other night, I think it was when we were drinking at my place, you were in the kitchen and I looked over and your back was all muscly and I was like bitch.”

Me: “Really? That is like… the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”

Staci: “Well… I meant every word of it.”

Sisterly love, there is really nothing quite like it.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Loved One(s), Story Time, Vacations

Puppy Kisses

July 29th, 2009

I’m dog sitting this week.

Who agrees to live in someone else house for a week right after coming back from a vacation? Me. Why? Because I can’t say no. Well, that and they are paying me.

poodles

Isn't it cute how they match the carpet?

I thought dog sitting wouldn’t be so bad. I thought it would give me a chance to study without my cat, Aurora, laying on my notebook or meowing non stop. But sadly, these little puppies require just as much, if not more attention than my bitchy kitty.

So I’m sitting on the couch staring blankly at my math book, trying to figure out why I don’t remember ANY OF IT! I have one poodle continually bringing me a slobbery toy and licking me until I throw it while the other one is in the kitchen whining at the stove. I’m thinking why in the hell is the dog whining at the stove? I throw the slobber toy one last time and go investigate.

I walk in the kitchen and she looks up at me with longing eyes and I tell her, “Listen dog, if I don’t cook for myself, there is no way in I’m cooking for you!”

I get pleading slightly annoyed stares in return.

I look above the stove to see if there are treats. Nothing. I look around the stove. Nothing. Finally I bend down to tell the dog I’m sorry but I have no idea why she is whining (you know, because getting on their level totally helps them understand you better). Then she looks down, motions to under the stove and kind of points as if to say, “listen lady how can I be any clearer? LOOK UNDER THE DAMN STOVE!”

I lay down on my stomach, my glasses bumping the floor, and low and behold lodged under the stove is one wine-cork size dog treat. I grab the first flat long object I can find, which happens to be a kitchen knife, and slowly coerce the treat out.

“Happy now?”

I walk back to my study area on the couch, 2 bouncy poodles in tow, only to find that in the amount of time I was gone the internet has decided to stop working.

Excellent.

I say screw it and walk up the stairs to take a bath. I give both puppies a chew toy thinking they will be distracted for a while so I can relax. I leave the door open because that’s what you do when you live alone. In walks puppy number one to check things out. She decides she should help bath me by licking me while I’m in the tub, then she starts to drink my bath water! It’s so incredibly disgusting and I’m telling her to stop and go away but at the same time it’s cute because her little fluffy tail is wagging and she is smiling. YES SMILING!

When I finally get out of the tub, I put on lotion and immediately dog number 2 starts licking my legs!

“NO! NO! Bad puppy! Stop! Seriously dog, what the F?”

So I’m dancing around trying to get the rest of my lotion on while avoiding stepping on the dog and the dog is thinking this is a great game and is thoroughly enjoying her night time treat of grease on flesh from my freshly burned (from tanning) legs.

Finally I get dressed, climb into bed, both dogs snuggling up next to me and fall asleep only to wake in the morning to both puppies kissing me awake and of course by kissing me awake I mean licking me like I am a giant pork rind.

“OK! OK! I’m up! I’m up! Sheesh dogs, again, what the F?”

Worlds greatest alarm clock poodles. You either get out of bed or get eaten alive. I think by the end of the week I’ll be more covered in dog saliva than I will be freckles.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Story Time

Minor, OK Major Set Back

July 28th, 2009

I’ve lost it.

My red spiral bound 3 subject school notebook. It’s lost. Have you seen it? The hotel hasn’t seen it? It wasn’t in my suitcase or any of my roommates suitcases. It will be easy to recognize becasue it has a semsters worth of math notes along with 5 practice tests and, oh yeah, the practice final.

Did I mention the final is in a week?

I’ve already had to take an exam (yesterday) without having notes to study or without really knowing which chapters the test would be on and while I don’t know my score yet, I’m willing to bet it’s not going to be great.

Kindly, if you find my red spiral bound 3 subject notebook please return it back to me. I’ll gladly pay for overnight shipping and will give you a Mr. Potato Head doll I got from one of the conference swag bags as a finders reward.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Back to School, BlogHer09

Getting There is Half the Fun (I Swear This Will Be The Last Time I Mention BlogHer)

July 27th, 2009

Chicago and the BlogHer convention were basically awesome, and by awesome I mean it kicked my ass. Both the city and the mass amount of estrogen was enough to leave me feeling exhausted, overwhelmed and unprepared most of the time. But hell, what’s an adventure without the anxiety?

Getting from the Chicago airport to the hotel was the first leg of the adventure. My lovely, independent and resourceful traveling companion, Sarah, and I decided mass transit was the way to go. One surprisingly non-scary train ride and a bus in the wrong direction followed by one in the right direction but dropping us off a mile from our hotel forcing us carry our over sized luggage through the crowded streets of Chicago (because we sure as hell were not going to ask for directions or call a cab) later, we arrived.

Matching travel outfits not required

Matching travel outfits not required.

Oh, you mean busses go in both directions?

Oh, you mean buses go in both directions?

As we stumbled through the hotel lobby doors, hot, sweaty and ready to do anything but be social, part of me felt proud that we made it all on our own without asking for help from anyone but Mrs. iPhone (AKA Google maps). That part of me wanted to drop my bags and scream, “We made it! We finally fucking made it! Look out! Independent women coming through!”

Fortunately I refrained.

As for the actual conference, between the session, the mommy bloggers, the parties, the free swag and the whole experience that is Chicago, I think I’ll let the pictures give a small glimpse of the story.

Beauty in the city

Beauty in the city along the Magnificent Mile.

Napping is crucial to survival

Napping is crucial to survival.

Meeting Jenny the Bloggess. I'm awkward, she's medicated.

Meeting Jenny the Bloggess. I'm awkward, she's medicated.

Totally worth waiting over an hour and almost being denied booze for

Totally worth waiting over an hour for and almost being denied booze.

Sitting by what I now know is the Chicago River thanks to twitter

Sitting by what I now know is the Chicago River thanks to my twitter peps.

Cheeseburger party sponsored by McDonalds in a hotel suite. Oddly enough, one of the few parties shut down by hotel security.

Cheeseburger party sponsored by McDonalds in a hotel suite. Oddly enough, one of the few parties shut down by hotel security.

BlogHer style brown bag found in the lobby.

BlogHer style brown bag found in the lobby.

Who wouldn't want to share a room with these beautiful ladies?

Who wouldn't want to share a room with these beautiful ladies?

I want to publicly say I adore my roommates Sandi, Loralee and Sarah. They made my experience so much better than I possibly imagined.

Whew!

Going out of town is always an adventure and I am so glad I went on this one. I learned a lot and was forced out of my comfort zone. I made some new amazing friendships and have enough around the table drinking stories to keep my friends rolling for months to come.

However, for me, the best part of this adventure (or really any for that matter) is finally returning home from it. The smile I got on my face when I saw the Wasatch Mountains through the airplane window could only be topped by seeing ED roll up at the airport to pick me up.

Home sweet chaotic home!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

blogging, BlogHer09, Out and About, Story Time, Vacations

My First (and possibly last) Guest Blogger!

July 23rd, 2009

I’m off learning how to be a better, more efficient blogger, which is code for I’m on vacation in Chicago.  I asked my long time friend Chip if he would be interested in writing a guest post. I think his response was something like “sure, why the fuck not?” I told him this was his chance to write on a females blog about anything he wanted. That was all the direction I gave him…

Lord help me, I hope this goes over well!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

***

If it’s one thing I hate, it’s touchy-feely, self-help articles written by delusional, overly-sensitive morons who can’t even help themselves. If it’s two things I hate, it’s when those touchy-feely, self-help articles get emailed to me.

Awhile back, I found such an article in my in-box. Written by a guy who positioned himself as the “voice of all men,” the list was supposed to be a guide for women – you know, so they could “understand” us men better. Normally, I’d dump that kind of dog shit in the trash faster than you can say “Women Are From Venus, Men Are From Uranus,” and then instantly terminate my friendship with whoever forwarded it to me, but for some reason, I read it.

It was awful. Like “Runaway Bride” awful. It was insipid, it was spineless, and it was flat-out misrepresenting the male of our species. If anything, it was only going to make women think that men are more pathetic than we already are.

So in an effort to set the record straight – and to retain some of our dignity, I’ve written a response to each of the points in the original article. That original article – AND THIS IS IMPORTANT – is directly below, in italics. And yes, I’m going to ask you to read it. Quickly. Yes, it’s going to be painful, but it’s necessary to build up the proper amount of nausea to understand my retort – which immediately follows. (You may need a bottle of whiskey to get through this first part though…)

What Scares a Man?

By David Zinczenko, for Men’s Health

You probably think you know what frightens most men. A long-weekend at the in-laws’ place. Antiquing. Running out of beer in the third quarter. But that’s just the stuff he’ll admit to being afraid of, which, by definition, means they’re not his true deep fears. So how can you determine what those are? Easy: They’re the ones he’ll almost never talk about. But I will. Let’s count down through the Scary Fifteen:

#15 Hair in the drain. The first sign of male pattern baldness brings a man face-to-follicle with a skimpy aspect of his future. And it’s always earlier than he expects or wants (which is, like, never). Logically, men know that baldness is as much of a part of life as Leno making Britney jokes. Logically, men know that being bald doesn’t mean that they’re any less smart, virile, or successful. Logically, men know that women don’t care how much hair their men have. Logically, men know there are plenty of bald men who are comfortable in their skin–no matter how much of it they’re showing. But when it first happens, it feels like stepping on a scale and being 20 pounds heavier or waking up in high school with a quarter-sized nose pimple. It’s the inevitable and uncontrollable change in appearance that men try so desperately to protect. Maybe even more importantly, this moment when a man starts losing his hair says a lot about him-whether he’s cool enough to handle it, or anxious enough to attempt to deny it with comb-overs, Rogaine, or faith healers.

#14 Getting caught noticing another woman. A man’s instinctual response to visual stimulation very rarely has anything to do with his current relationship or how he feels about it. But his lizard brain reacts instantly, and before he knows he’s doing it, he’s looking at someone else. We hate having to explain behaviors that even we don’t fully understand.

#13 Rejection. Doesn’t matter whether it happens after a job interview, or at a bar, or on the basketball court. And remember, there’s a difference between losing and being outright rejected. Men can handle losing a game or having a bar conversation disintegrate into nothing. But the proud creatures that men are, they hate having their shots blocked. Mainly, that’s because it means that someone else has the upper hand-and is gloating about it.

#12 Super Nanny.

#11 Speedos.

#10 His dad’s death. It’s his most powerful moment of a reflection, as he thinks about his own mortality. Becoming the family patriarch is heavy stuff. For many men, it’s a life-changing moment, because they think about what their fathers did for them and what they failed to do. The next step: considering what they need to do to be better dads and better men themselves–which means they must confront their own failures, as well. That’s a lot for a grief-stricken man to deal with. He should get some latitude to do that in his own way. For him, reaching out may be through what seem like misdirections–more chatter about fishing with friends, an extra set of tickets to the Phillies showdown with the Mets. But guys need a reason to get together; the talk will come during a slow point in the 6th inning, or in the car on the way home.

#9 Her tears. Men know it’s natural, that women need to do it, and that it’s a signal that they better provide something more than just a tissue-even though many men have no clue what that something might be. Men have been told that women cry for all kinds of reasons-to release some emotions, to get our attention, or just because dammit, The Bachelor rose ceremony is so stinkin’ sad. Men want to do the right thing, but because men don’t navigate those falling waters very often, they probably do the wrong thing more often than not. Which is another reason why they fear her emotional tsunami.

#8 Being a lousy lover. Of all the things that men want to happen in bed, pleasing their women ranks near the top of the list, according to a national Men, Love, and Sex survey by Harris Interactive. Men hate to think that women may be bored, unimpressed, or unsatisfied. Maybe it’s an ego thing (okay, it is an ego thing), but men do very genuinely care about how much pleasure a woman is having in bed. That’s why the faking thing drives men so crazy. To men, feigned pleasure is code for: You’re so damn terrible at this, but there there, little fella, I’m gonna make you feel good about your inadequate self. Men want to know what women want, and they want to be successful in delivering it.

#7 Not being a god to his kids. There comes a time when men don’t care much about what strangers, co-workers, friends, in-laws, or anybody else thinks about them. But when a kid articulates his father’s flaws, it’s the ultimate heart crumbler. Men know that sometimes they work too much or are too short-fused or simply fall short on the hero-dad meter, but deep down, they know it’s the most important job that they’re going to do. And if they don’t do it right, they know there’s a significant chink in their masculine armor.

#6 Living paycheck to paycheck. Even though men aren’t the only hunters and providers anymore, they still feel a deep evolutionary pull to provide the backbone and protection for their tribe. When men lose money, can’t make enough money, or are scrounging for money, it can be an emotional disaster-it makes them feel like they’re losing control in their lives.

#5 Beautiful women. Few things intimidate men more than IRS audits and 12-foot birdie putts. A beautiful woman is one of them. A beautiful woman-whether spotted at work, in bookstores, driving in the next lane, anywhere-simply has the power to turn a man of steel into creamed corn. Men know this. Men try to resist this. Ultimately, it’s a challenge. Beauty may be a short-lived form of power, but it is profound, and nearly all men cower before it. It can make them do really, really stupid things.

#4 Getting naked. Ladies shouldn’t think that they’re alone in fleshy hang-ups. Guys are just as concerned about what women will initially think about their body hair, muscles, guts, toes, and other parts. Men are deeply aware that they can be too fat, too skinny, too hairy, too smelly, and while men are eager to revel in a woman’s body, they also share anxiety about revealing their own.

#3 Tofurky.

#2 Not seeing his kids grow up. Death, of course, scares everyone-not so much for the bad stuff that may happen to them, but for missing out on all the good stuff that will happen to their kids. Or, worse yet, not being around to protect them from the bad stuff.

# 1 Public humiliation. Here’s one that will make even the strongest men cave: Looking weak. Whether a man is extremely secure-or insanely insecure-about himself, he’s worries that he’ll look incompetent, idiotic, or both. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a zipper malfunction, an off-color joke he mistakenly slips in during a speech, a dismissive statement by a boss in a department meeting, fumbling the fly ball at a softball game, getting arrested for fighting after his kid’s soccer game, whatever. It’s one thing to make mistakes. But making the reputation-damaging ones in public is tough to take. That’s because as much as men try to protect their homes, their families, their appearance, and their jobs, perhaps the most nerve-wracking job of all is protecting the thing they can’t cure with money, with effort or with laser hair removal: their reputations.

And now, my response:

Interesting, David, but your article simply doesn’t apply to me.

#15. Hair in the drain? Screw it. I’ve shaved my head lots of times. If I start going bald, I’ll do it again. Men don’t care about hair as much as self-help articles like this say they do. Bruce Willis is getting laid a lot more than Yanni or Fabio, dipshit.

#14. Getting caught checking out other women. Please. I only date women who point out hot chicks.

#13. Rejection. To me, succumbing to rejection is like getting bucked off a horse and not getting back on. If you give up, you’re a pussy and should be castrated as not to pollute our gene pool.

#12. Super Nanny? Are you kidding? Any man who’s scared of Super Nanny is a man who doesn’t have the balls or intelligence to discipline his own kids. Again, these people are dipshits who should not be breeding.

#11. Speedos. Speedos are like clowns. They’re not scary if you avoid them.

#10. A father’s death. This is retarded. If you have to wait until your father dies to realize your own mortality, then you need to stop screwing your sister, stop watching NASCAR, and have someone come over and slap you in the face. Wake the fuck up. Until you do, you’ll only be an embarrassment to your dad, mama’s-boy.

#9. A woman’s tears. Nothing about this is scary. Sad maybe. But scary? Be a man. Be there for her like she’s been there for you. Make her (and yourself) a stiff cocktail and get through it together. If this goes on for days, drink more. If this goes on for years, kill her.

#8. Being a bad lover. Good sex is about two things: Communication and the right physical fit. If you and your chick can’t talk about what you like, or if you’re always trying to pound a square peg into one of those triangle-shaped holes, the sex is going to be bad. (NOTE: If you actually have a square peg, or she has a triangle-shaped hole, one of you is a space alien.)

#7. Not being a god to his kids. Who’s the douche who wrote THAT shit? You don’t need to be a “god” to anyone. All you need is for your kids to respect  you – which isn’t going to happen if you keep watching American Idol and writing stupid shit like this. Plus, here’s a little newsflash, chief: You’re not a god and you never will be.

#6. Living paycheck to paycheck. I understand that this can be scary. But ambition and a little responsibility will go a long way towards eliminating this. Translation: Get a job and use a condom. The world is tired of bankrolling your bankrupt lifestyle and your retarded fuck trophies.

#5. Beautiful women. If you’re a man who’s scared of beautiful women, check yourself for testicles. If you feel some and are still curled up in a ball, just remember this: No matter how beautiful she is, keep in mind that somewhere, someone is sick and tired of her shit. If that doesn’t cure you, kill yourself. You’re too pathetic to breathe the same air as me.

#4. Getting naked. If you’re scared of someone seeing you naked, maybe it’s time to put down the Krispy Kreme, the Taco Bell, the Starbucks Double Vanilla Cappuccino Latte Thingy, and hit the gym. Period.

#3. Tofurky. The only reason you should be scared of this is if you’re being forced to eat it. And if you’re being forced to eat it, either A) you need to tell your chick to back the fuck off or B) listen to her because she’s probably trying to tell you to lose that spare tire so she’ll find you less revolting and want to have sex with you again sometime.

#2. Not being around to raise your kids. Shut the fuck up. Chances are — if you’re like 90% of the people I see who have kids these days — YOU’RE not raising them at all anyway. Instead, you’re letting our system of social welfare do it, or worse – you have plenty of money and a nanny is raising them. What?  You want to see them become adults so you can see what a success they’ve become? Let me put your mind at ease: Your little angels aren’t gonna amount to shit if you keep letting them sit around all day eating Cheetos and playing X-Box. Try taking an active role in raising them now, dumbass.

#1. Public humiliation. Yawn. It’s only humiliating if you allow it to be. What ever happened to laughing at yourself?

FINAL THOUGHT:

I don’t blame women for being fed up with the modern-day heterosexual male. If you’re a male and you’re scared of this kind of stuff, you’re a giant pussy. Conversely, MY male friends — gay or straight — aren’t scared of any of this bullshit. We’re men. Real men. And we’re tired of all the self-help columnists making us look bad. Here’s some tampons and Oprah’s book of the month. Get the fuck out of my sight.

Sincerely,

Chip Haskell

I was going to post a "nice" picture of Chip but I thought that would be too girly of me and this is, afterall, a guys post.

I was going to post a "nice" picture of Chip but I thought that would be too girly of me and this is, afterall, a guys post.

blogging, BlogHer09, Guest Blogger, Posts Grandma won't approve of

Grace In Small Things – Traveling

July 22nd, 2009

Since I am leaving tomorrow to go to BlogHer, I found it only appropriate to (loosely) center today’s edition of Grace In Small Things around, you guessed it, travel!

1. The magnum bottle of Chardonnay in my fridge.

2. A roommate/traveling companion willing to share a suitcase, the cost to check luggage and dental floss.

3. Finding out that all meals are included with the conference I paid $76.88 to attend (finally being a student has paid off!).

4. Getting the finishing touches (that probably only matter to me) up on my blog just in the nick of time!

5. Knowing my blog will be in good hands…  taken care of … well, there will be new content posted while I am gone.*

Blogfully yours,

Summer

*Tomorrow my blog is being taken over by *gasp* A MAN! Trust me, this rare occurrence is not something you will want to miss.

blogging, Grace in Small Things

Living in the Land of Unprepared – BlogHer Style

July 21st, 2009

Excitement. Anxiety. Panic. That is what I am feeling right now.

I leave Thursday morning to go to Chicago for a blogging convention. Yes, I am completely serious, a BLOGGING CONVENTION! Oh, and did I mention that this is a convention almost completely dedicated to female bloggers? Yeah, nothing intimidating about a gathering of 1,200 + females… females who write on the Internet and take lots of pictures.

Since I am always so on top of my game, I sent my traveling companion and fellow procrastinator, Sarah, a list of what I do and do not know/have prepared for the BlogHer 2009 Conference.

I do know/have:

- What luggage I’ll be taking/sharing.

- What cocktail dresses I’ll most likely be packing.

- My tickets (airline and BlogHer)  are printed.

- Who’s bringing what medication.

What I don’t know:

- Transportation to the airport.

- Transportation from the airport.

- How to get to the hotel from the airport.

- What lectures I’ll attend.

- Whether or not food comes with the conference.

- What to take notes in/on.

- What to wear.

- What shoes to pack.

- What jewelry to pack.

- How much the hotel is going to cost.

- If I have enough money… at all.

- Which parties I’ll attend.

- If I’ll have any free time to study.

- If I’ll have any free time to sight see.

- Where the best place to pick up a cheap flask is.

While I know the clock is ticking and I need to figure these things out, I don’t have the mental capacity to freak out over each and every one of them. I’m sure that as long as I over pack, everything else will just kind of work itself out.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

blogging, Nerdom

Non-Conformist Hippies Throw the Best Weddings

July 20th, 2009

My  older sister Sara got married last Saturday. If her bachelorette party was supposed to serve as an indicator as to what the wedding was to be like, it missed the mark. Then again, there is not really much that could have prepared me for this.

I find myself at a slight loss for words when thinking of how to describe the wedding, mainly because so much of it I did not understand. For example, why was the minister dressed in a white robe and a Chinese hat?

Minister

Why did the groom have a sword and LED lights sewn into his tuxedo?

Groom

Why is there a woman dressed in green tights and a pink tutu?

The Best Friend

While I was left confused in some areas, I was in awe in others.

The wedding guests, which was a mixture of my conservative, garment-wearing relatives and the free spirited friends of the happy couple, all sat in a large circle. A mixture of tattoos, mo-hawks and costumes with an intermittent splash of confused, slightly uncomfortable individuals.

I watched as the minister went to the 4 directional tables set up around the circle and explained the significance of the earth, fire, water and air and how they relate to marriage.

Then music started and the groom, Rob, joined by my sister, the beautiful bride, danced their way into the circle. I didn’t recognize the song, but it was definitely not “Here Comes the Bride”, it was a million times better because it was a song that had significant meaning to them as a couple. The song was called Bliss, by Syntax.

I had not seen my sister in her custom sewn dress and she looked stunning!

They made their way to the center of the circle with a Yin and Yang in hand in what seemed to be the joining of their new union.

Yin and Yang

But this was not to be the end. They were sent on a mission to each of the 4 directional tables where they recited vows they had written and were slowly joined by their 6 children.

The Vows

It was beautiful. There was so much symbolism in every aspect of the wedding. The amount of time and effort put into this blew me away. There was nothing traditional about this union, but they are far from a traditional couple.

Of course I cried, how could I not? My sister was the shining star of a production where the amount of love she and Rob have for each other overshadowed any raised eyebrows or sideways glances. They stayed true to who they are as individuals and as a couple. They simply said join us in our bizarre celebration of love, or don’t, we will cherish each other deeply either way.

At the end of the ceremony, after tying a symbolic knot made up of strings collected from each of the 4 directional tables and the kiss that sealed the deal, they started the music again and in the most fitting of manners, invited everyone to dance out with them.

Sally and George

Congrats Sara and Rob! I love you both and couldn’t be happier for you! I wish you all the blessings and joy that life has to offer you.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

***

Today is birthday of my biggest fan and an amazingly strong woman who has been there my entire life. In fact, without her I wouldn’t exist.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA!!!

Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s)

WARNING: Russian Texting Can Lead to Embarrassment

July 16th, 2009

CAUTION: Please have your earmuffs (or eyemuffs?) ready because Russians talk dirty.

Oh Karina, Karina, Karina. What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?
ohohBefore I begin this tale of woe, I want to first clarify that I am doing so with full permission from the lovely Karina the Russian, as this truly is one of her most embarrassing moments.

The other night, as Staci, Karina and I were gathered to color my hair, we were all talking like we do about random chick things when out of the blue Karina looks up from her phone, gets this panicked look on her face and says, “Oh no… OH NO! OH SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!”

Immediately both Staci and I are like “what’s wrong? What happened?” But all Karina can do is shake her head with a look of disbelief and horror and say “Fuck my life!”

After a little bit of coaxing we finally found out that her boyfriend, The Dirty Rocker, had been texting her from 2 phones while he was away visiting his family. He asked her to save both numbers so she would know it was him when he called or text.

Now, Karina is not what one would call shy about her sexuality. Let’s just say she is a woman who knows how to keep things interesting…  So when she told us she accidentally sent a message requesting a picture of  The Dirty Rockers dick… to the wrong number, the only question to ask was whose number was it?

She explained, in between a combination of crying and laughing, that she had saved the second number The Dirty Rocker had given her under THE EXACT SAME NAME! So when she got “Who is this?” as a reply she instantly realized her blunder.

By this point she has dropped down to the floor and is continuing to mumble a combination of “Oh my god. Oh my god.” and “Fuck my life. Fuck my life.” over and over so we ask her again, who’s number she sent the message to.

Karina clears her throat, looks right at me and says, “The Dirty Rockers MOTHER!!!”

You can imagine the howls that started in after that! Both Staci and I chiming in with “NO WAY” and “YOU DIDN’T!” and laughing so hard tears started forming in our eyes too! At this point Staci grabs a camera because this moment of  Karina’s ultimate horror and humiliation was too precious not to capture and we knew (once her humiliation subsided) she would appreciate it. May sound odd to you, but we like to capture all types of moments — not just the happy ones!

I am happy to report that The Dirty Rockers mother has an excellent sense of humor and Karina is still welcome to come around. She is working on double checking every text before it goes out and keeping her head held high.

Feel free to share any of your most embarrassing moments in the comments. It will make Karina the Russian feel better.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

K to the R stories, Posts Grandma won't approve of, Story Time