For me it started on day four when I removed his picture from my office. It was a candid Polaroid from our friends going away party.

On day thirteen I removed his picture from my family room – a cheesy photo of he and I on my 29th birthday. We looked so tan and happy sitting there in my designer frame on the mantle.

On day seventeen I removed the hand drawn picture a young relative of his had sketched of us over Thanksgiving.  Our huge round heads were staring at each other while hearts circled the air. I remember she choose us as her subject because we had fallen asleep on the couch together and we looked “so in love.”

That was probably the hardest one to take down.

Most of the time I am doing alright though.

Most of the time.

He told me early on that we should stay friends. At first I said okay thinking it would be a good idea. Then I saw him. He told me he had bought me a birthday present and he hugged me. Twice. The second hug lasted approximately 3.7 seconds longer than I could handle and I became an utter mess for the next three days.

I’ve avoided seeing him since.

When I got back from New York, in a Lortab induced state, I told him I couldn’t be his friend, that it was just too hard and that I cried at midnight when I turned thirty and hadn’t heard from him. He wanted to rehash our final days. I told him what’s the point. Then he offered to come take care of me and my broken foot. I said no, woke up at 3:30 a.m. in excruciating pain and almost reconsidered my answer.

Break-ups are hard.

Let’s face it, they just plain suck.

I’m nowhere near the rock I’d like to be or even the one that I pretend to be. I have my moments where I don’t miss him at all followed by moments where I miss him so much it hurts.

Part of me has moved on.

Part of me wonders if he has gotten rid of all evidence of me. How long did he wait to take down my pictures? Are they still up?

Honestly, I don’t know that it would mean anything either way.

But it doesn’t stop me from wondering.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

“You know Summer, you can’t do this forever. You need to deal with this, have a break down. It’s not healthy to do what you are doing.” Caring words I know to be true, spoken by a loved one.

“Maybe tomorrow,” is all I reply. 

Today is tomorrow.

You’d think with as many break-ups as I’ve been through I’d be a pro at going through them. Which, maybe I am. Only this time it’s so much harder because it wasn’t a two month let’s try this out sort of relationship. This was a you’re the one I am going to spend the rest of my life with kind of relationship.

Cue the water works.

Rather than publicly hash out the details of our break-up I wanted to write about all the ways I have NOT been dealing with it over the past week. You see, when you are in a relationship you get used to always checking in with your significant other. Not in a controlling way, more in a how was your day way. Now that I have no one to check in with, I thought I’d just check in with you, Internet.

ED and I broke up on a Monday night. It still seems so weird to say.

Tuesday I took a half day off work (which was a life saver because I couldn’t stop crying, nor could I concentrate to save my life) and went boating with my parents, Karina the Russian, and our Russian children.

Being at the lake was theraputic for me. I have gone boating every summer since I can remember. There is a bit of magic in the mountain water and for brief moments of time I was able to forget that my life had just been drastically altered. 

Wednesday I made it through an entire day of work, went to class, and went to the 311 concert with Karina the Russian and my sister Staci.

I drove seperately. I said it was because I had to work early the next day – which I did – but it was also because I knew I wouldn’t be able to fake happy all night long, especially since the last time I saw 311 in concert was with ED. 

I called up my friend Sarah on the drive home to talk me off of a ledge.

Thursday I went to dinner and then to the Twilight Concert (a free outdoor concert put on every Thursday during the summer) with some co-workers and Karina the Russian. It got done fairly early and despite my co-worker taunting me that I don’t know how to let go and just have fun, I decided to go home. Only I didn’t. The thought of going home to an empty house was too much so I deviated my course into the arms of my wonderful friend Susan who opened the door with a large glass of wine in hand for me. She let me cry until the wine dried up the tears.

Friday I went back up to the lake with my family for some more water therapy.

Friday night was my cousin’s birthday (Happy Birthday Emmie!). The day before she had text to invite ED and I to come out for her birthday. I had a minor break down at the realization of how many people have known us as a package deal and how many people I am going to have to tell that we broke up. But I digress.

I met Emmie, my sister Staci and a group of Emmie’s friends for a few drinks. Can I just say that I was soooo not ready to be at a popular bar downtown on a Friday night? Within the first ten minutes of arriving I saw three people who I had previously dated. Obviously Salt Lake City is too small of a town. Luckily I had my sister watching over me and survived without being auctioned off at the meat market. I spent that night curled up next to her in bed, again not wanting to be home alone.

Saturday I did laundry and looked for a new place to live (more on that later this week). Then I went to my parents house for a BBQ and to light fireworks. For those of you reading this who are not from Utah, the 24th of July is Pioneer Day. It’s celebrated like a second 4th of July only we are lighting fireworks to celebrate our state being settled by the Mormon pioneers instead of the nations independence.

Saturday night I went home alone, in bed by 10 and completely sober.

Sunday… my day to deal with things. I spent my morning cleaning, writing and reflecting then took a mid-day break for lunch and shopping with Sarah. My evening was spent with vodka and sappy movies.

What? We all cope differently.

From this post I am sure you can see that I have the worlds greatest friends and family. They have been in a constant rotation of checking on me to make sure I have enough alcohol and moral support. I feel so fortunate that they are in my life. I would be a wreck without them.

One week down, forever to go.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

It’s the best explanation I have for the reason dogs howl when I try to sing. Because if I could sing? I would totally be a full fledged diva. I’d be like, I said PEANUT BUTTER M&M’s NOT PEANUT, you MORON! How do you expect me to perform without my PEANUT BUTTER M&M’S??? For the love of god, where is my stylist? No not her, I like the other stylist better and would someone PLEASE get these red roses out of my dressing room? I specifically said NO red roses, only pink, because they make me feel pretty.

Yeah, good call on that pact, mom.

The other night ED and I were driving in the car and I started singing along to the radio.

“Honey, why do you purposely sing as flat and off key as possible?”

“What? What are you talking about? This is just how I sing.”

“No, that can’t be how you sing. You are purposely making your voice sound worse than it is.”

“NO, I’M NOT. I just have a really bad singing voice thankyouverymuch.”

Sigh.

Apparently performing in front of a million screaming fans is not in the cards for me any time soon. I mean, you know you don’t have a shot in hell when you’ve got your boyfriend, your mom AND Jesus all plotting against you.

Thanks a lot, a-holes.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

I can’t say for certain, because dreams are always a little hazy, but what I remember of this night’s dream was that ED was training me and Sarah at the gym and every time she would turn her head he would try to grab my ass or grope me in some kind of flirty way. I kept telling him to knock that shit off because I didn’t want to get caught or embarass my friend. Finally, after telling him several times to quit it, I got so frustrated that I punched him.

Only I punched him in real life.

Of course it woke him up. Confused he asked, “Babe… did you just punch me in the back?”

Half awake I mumbled, “Sorry… In my dream you deserved it.”

A little while later on this same night, ED started talking in his sleep! Not just inaudible sentences either. He started speaking as if he was perfectly wide awake. It woke me and I half sat up and said, “sweetie, what are you talking about?”

He told me he was showing someone the gym, rolled over and went back to sleep.

That morning, ED had to get up early to train a client. He is a well trained good man and does his best not to disturb me so I can sleep in. As he bent down to kiss me goodbye, I woke up enough to tell him again that I really was sorry for punching him in the back.

He just laughed.

Apparently he is getting used to my brand of crazy. Which is a good thing, because it’s starting to wear off on him too.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

I am not some people.

In fact, I’ve written about a slasher dream and mentioned other messed up dreams on here before.

This post is not about a messed up dream however. This post is about an awesome dream.

In the middle of attempting to study over the weekend, I dozed off. When I woke up I had to text ED immediately to tell him about the dream I had.

“I just woke up from the hottest dream! We were making out all over the city in the middle of the day…narrowly missing being caught by a bunch of school kids. Also, we may or may not have shot someone.”

“Interesting. I like the idea, but why were the school kids trying to catch us?”

“They weren’t. We were near a park they were walking thru.”

“Wait… did you say we shot someone?”

“Possibly. I had run to the tween who was thrown from the car and to grab the gun, when I turned around someone had been shot. It’s all really complicated.”

“You have the craziest dreams.”

“I know! If by crazy you mean awesome!”

“Well of course I mean awesome!”

Blogfully yours,

Summer

They love him. Maybe its because he is a giant kid himself. He can pull hair and give a wet willy with the worst best of them. I guess that would make him more of a giant 12 year old boy than kid, but you get the picture.

While down in the county, ED and his nephew were stomping on ants on the driveway. ED asked his nephew if he knew the real way to kill ants. Of course he didn’t so ED sent him in to grab the large magnifying glass from the front room.

After practicing setting twigs on fire for a while, it was time for the real deal.

Burning ants.

To ED’s credit,  he did his best to turn it into an educational opportunity. He explained how the glass catches the sun and turns the light into a “laser beam.”  Also, that you should never do this to start any real fires, only to burn ants.

He’s going to be such a great father one day.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Saturday night after our exciting night of working out together, getting Indian food (curry not campfire) and fighting for 30 minutes in Blockbuster over which movie to rent, ED gave me the perfect opportunity to challenge his strength.

We were home, and had just gotten into our movie watching clothes, when he started to complain about having sore legs from a workout a few days earlier.

Wimp.

ED: I don’t think you understand, I was squatting more than double what you weigh!

Me: Psssh! You couldn’t squat me.

At which point ED picked me up, put me over his shoulders and proceeded to prove me wrong by doing not only deep squats, but lunges as well. WITH ME ON HIS SHOULDERS laughing uncontrollably.

ED: I could probably bench press you too.

Me: No way. For one thing I couldn’t hold still enough for you to lift me because I’d be having a giggle fit and would probably fall on your face and break your nose.

ED: Giggle fit?

Me: What?

ED: Just adding another reason to the list.

Me: The list of why I am so awesome?

ED: No, the list of things you never grew out of.

He has me there. I do have a pretty long list of things I’ve never grown out of, but it is also a list of things I never want to grow out of.

Giggle fits, playing in makeup for hours, finding magic in the first snow fall, wanting to discover the end of a rainbow, and being the first to jump into any large body of water – just a few of the things I never, ever, want to grow out of.

What about you? What’s on your list of things you never want to grow out of?

Blogfully yours,

Summer

I think my friend Sarah put it best when ED was pretending to pout about me being gone over Valentines Day. Sarah simply stated, “Summer’s  had hiking a lot longer than she’s had you. Sorry.”  (I freaking love that girl)

Not that he minds, quite the opposite really. We are able to get reservations and avoid the love bird crowds. What’s not to love?

This year we had a lovely dinner at Martine’s and went to a show called “Avenue Q”. For those of you not familiar with Avenue Q, it is pretty much Sesame Street for adults.

It’s filled with irreverent humor, underlying social issues and songs such as, “The Internet is for porn,” “Everyone’s a little bit racist,” and “If you were gay.”

To say it was hilarious is an understatement. Would I recommend it to any of my friends? ABSOLUTELY!

Would I recommend it to any of my Mormon relatives? Let’s just say during the scene where the puppets were having sex on stage while Gary Coleman sang “you can be as loud as the hell you want when you’re making love,” the audience lost a few members. So, no, I would not recommend it to anyone easily offended.

After the show was over, I was remarking to ED how I thought the crowd at the theater was easily 20 years older than the crowd at the concert I went to last weekend. Can you believe he had the audacity to point out to me – ON OUR VALENTINES DAY DATE – that I am actually closer in age to the average theater goer than I was to the “alcohol free” concert crowd!

THE NERVE!

That is, until I realized he was right.

Damn. I hate when he is right.

Here’s wishing that all of your Valentines dates — whatever you do and whoever you spend it with — are filled with many laughs and someone who makes you feel, ahem,  younger.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

For New Years, ED and I decided to host a little get together with a few of our closest friends. It was thrown together at the last minute, but somehow we were able to pull off one of the best New Years parties I have ever been to.

My sister Staci recommended we make it a formal mascarade party, which meant not only did we invite our guests less than a week before the party, we also requested they come up with some sort of a mask too!

Are we the best hosts or what?

I feel incredibly lucky that so many of our friends were able to make it. Some ran into babysitter issues and some had already made plans, but I think it is safe to say that those who came had a great time.

Here is my mask. I originally got it on a trip to Austin, TX to visit my dear friend Ellen. I added feathers to the side for some "pazzaz"! Also, because Heidi was making her mask and I like to use hotguns.

Me, Karina the Russian and Staci.

Group picture of all the ladies at the party!

I should clarify that there were actually men present at this party. But none quite as dashing as my darling ED.

Hilarious, no?

Although he looks  like a superhero here, he didn’t come to my rescuing until later on. Before everyone started arriving to the party, ED decided to shine up the hard wood floors. He sprayed the floor with Pledge and mopped over it with a flat dusting mop. The floors looked beautiful, but were slicker than an ice rink! Even after we tried to clean the Pledge off the floor we had to tell all of our guests to walk carefully — especially the women in their high heels!

However, it was not until right after the stroke of midnight when we went outside to watch the fireworks, that I slid on the actual ice and landed right on my ass! Not to worry though, my masked hero came running to sweep me up.

Best New Years kiss ever!

Happy New Years everyone! Here’s to an amazing 2010!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

I have four Christmas parties this week. That’s one, two, three, FOUR social obligations to prepare for. Honestly, I don’t live under a rock, so I am not sure how exactly Christmas sneaked up on me this year. I knew it was approaching, but now it’s like BAM! I’m here bitches, ready or not! Where’s the egg nog?

And I am not. Ready that is. I am not ready for Christmas.

Oh sure, I did a little online holiday shopping in my bathrobe a few weeks ago. But that is simply not going to cut it! I have to bake cookies, put bows on presents and shop for the perfect gifts and… wait a second, who in the hell am I trying to kid? No one, and I mean NO ONE expects that sort of thing out of me. I even told ED I was going to make homemade Oreo cookies and you know what he told me? “What’s wrong with the ones you buy at the store?” and you know what? He is absolutely right.

Why mess with perfection? Why go against god’s will to have perfectly round cookies laying neatly in rows? Why upset the system?

This year, if I show up to your holiday party carrying a bag of Oreo cookies with a bow haphazardly slapped on it, please keep in mind that it’s the thought that counts. Also, that it is 100% ED’s fault that I am not baking this year.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – the title makes me giggle. Shortcomings… E.D….he he he.