I have this really great story to tell about getting the inside of my thigh painted in New York, only my brat kid-sister, whose bed I am sharing, won’t stop bugging me. Seriously it’s like we are kids again. I can’t get a thing done because she is so A.D.D and it is rubbing off on me and to be honest, I think I have enough A.D.D without her rubbed on share.

“Summer, how do I make Twitter work?”

“Summer, what profile picture should I choose?”

“The weather right now is 82 degrees.”

“I found another picture. Just look at this one, I promise it’s the last one.”

“I can’t believe you post pictures of my daughter on the Internet but don’t send them to me.”

“Look at my belly, I am so bloated.”

“Did you just call my phone dumb? Not all phones can be labeled ‘smart phones’, Summer.”

“Check out this boy on Facebook. Yeah, his posts about vaginas and honey are so funny.”

“What do I write for my Twitter bio? La de da de, we likesta party? Men suck vaginas rule? Looking for a sugar daddy?”

AHHHHHHHHH!

This one time, when I was about 10 years old, my sister wouldn’t leave me alone so I jumped on my bike and took off at full speed down the hill we lived on. At the bottom of the hill was a sharp turn. I hit gravel, slid, crashed, and skinned up my knee and busted my bike. A neighbor took me home in the back of her truck. When I got home and walked through the door, knee all bloody, my sister ran upstairs and got me a handful of band aides.

After that I quit running away from her.

Sometimes it’s just nice to live in the moment and laugh out loud with your sister. I think it’s therapeutic. And honestly, it really doesn’t matter if you are 10, 30, or 130. Laughter is good for the soul.

Guess the story of the wetness between my thighs can wait another day.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Loved One(s), Random

I write about a lot of funstuff. Crazy drinking stories, wild concerts, vacations, embarrassing stories, you know, fun stuff.

I am sure to some I might seem rather carefree, or possibly like an alcoholic. 

The truth is, lately, underneath it all, I’ve been a bit of a wreck. The only thing that has kept me sane is my support system. The strongest of which is Karina the Russian.

When I made the decision to publicly change my Facebook status to “Single” after my recent break up, I imidately got flooded with the obligatory ”I’m sorry” and “What happened???” remarks. I don’t doubt that those comments were well intentioned, but they were also overwhelming. As soon as Karina saw the direction the comments were headed she immediately changed her status and mine to say that we are “Married”. She then wrote on my wall saying, “We are facebook married!!!! Deal with it!”

Instantly the mood went from pitty to laughter.

When I decided to throw myself a birthday party the same weekend I had a five page essay and finals to prepare for, Karina showed up at my door the morning of and helped me whip my disaster of a place into backyard BBQ party central.

(Pictures are HERE)

When I had school and work both consuming all of my free time and hadn’t packed a single item for my trip to New York, who showed up the night of to make sure I packed enough shoes, an extra pair of pajamas (Cat you can thank her later for that one!) and drive my ass to the airport? Karina, of course.*

When I got back from New York, all busted up and barely able to hobble my sorry ass to the restroom, Karina was there. She came over, helped me unpack all of my luggage*, washed three loads of laundry and spent the night. In the morning she made me breakfast, helped me get in and out of the bathtub without injuring myself, put my laundry away and cleaned my kitchen.

People pay for this shit and I get it for free!

Well, sometimes she does make me spoon her… and I do have to love her Russian children like they are my own… and sometimes she beats me, but only when I deserve it…

Seriously people, I feel super-duper lucky.  

I mean, sure I have a broken foot and the doctors are telling me I will be on crutches for the next six weeks, and, yes, I am planning on moving in two weeks and don’t have a thing packed…

But I’m not stressed (I totally am), because besides my amazing family and friends, I have a Russian wife with an amazingly strong back who are all here to help (hint, hint).

Blogfully yours,

Summer

*I would be a total bitch if I didn’t make mention of a few more people who totally have gone above and beyond to help me, although they did not Facebook marry me so honestly, they may not deserve to be mentioned after all.

- Staci, thank you for helping pack/unpack/take me to the hospital/love me like a sister.

- Susan & Cat, thank you for taking care of me while I was in New York. What the eff would I have done without you guys???

BlogHer10, K to the R stories, Loved One(s)

I keep thinking if I run fast enough, occupy my life and mind with enough activities, then the reality won’t be true. The moment I slow down I am overwhelmed by emotions and the next thing I know I’m driving 75 with blurred vision.

“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

Dating debating, ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s), NOT light and fluffy, Out and About

All my life my family has teased me that they don’t know where I cam from. I have an older sister and a younger sister who both look like, well, sisters. I, on the other hand, look nothing like them.

My younger sister and I used to stare at ourselves in the mirror trying to find a resemblance. Eyes? No. Mouth? No. Nose? No.

Nothing.

Even still, I don’t particularly look like my parents either. A fact my nephew recently brought to my attention.

“Summer, stand next to grandpa. I need to see if you’re related.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You just need to stand next to him and I’ll take a picture and my Nintendo DS will say what percentage you are related.”

“This is so not going to end well for me.”

“Look Summer. You’re not related!”

“Imagine that.”

“Let’s take your picture with grandma now!”

“Do we have to?”

If that’s not solid proof right there, I don’t know what is.

Hmm… maybe that’s why my mom is so religious – she is making up for the sins of her youth!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Loved One(s), Random

This Father’s Day I became the worlds greatest daughter. While some people give their dads ties or socks, I did something that completely blew him away – I committed a felony.

Well, technically it was more a misdemeanor, but whatev, I totally committed a crime just to show my dad how much I love him! That totally kicks the shit out of making him dinner! Only problem now is that I will never be able to top this criminal gift. I’ve hit my gift giving peak!

Shit.

I am sure you are wondering what crime I committed. The answer to that question is, “why in the world would I admit the details of breaking the law on the internet?” It’s like when the villain reveals the details of his plot to take over the world to the captured hero. Don’t you just think duh dude, just kill him while you’ve got the chance, otherwise he is going escape and thwart your evil plans! There will be NO thwarting of my Father’s Day shenanigans!

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there and especially to the greatest dad ever, who happens to be mine.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Loved One(s)

Growing up I was the neighborhood babysitter.

I remember the first diaper I ever changed. I used about a dozen baby wipes and put the fresh diaper on backwards.

Oddly enough, the parents still invited me back the next weekend.

Almost 2o years after changing that first poopy butt, people are still asking me to watch their children.

This past weekend, I was responsible for the life and well being of five children. Originally it was just supposed to be my older sister’s two children.

However, before entering into this adventure, I knew I would need back up and distractions – for both me and the children.  So the kids cousin, as well as Karina and her two Russian children joined the mix.

Now I am nothing, if not the utmost hostess. I prepared for the evening by purchasing child friendly food, toys, drinks and snacks as well as adult friendly wine and movies.

After feeding them a dinner of spagetti and juice boxes, I decided it would be best to let them work off their dinner and locked them outside with a handful of toys – their reward for finishing their dinner.

After the children had ran off their dinner, I decided it was safe to give them their extra special treat of soy ice cream with bananas and sprinkles.

What? I’m their aunt, I’m allowed to spoil them.

Another hour of running off their sugary treat and I finally let them back in the house. Karina and I got them changed into their PJ’s and settled in to watch a movie.

But first…

“OK kiddos, what’s rule number one?”

“Stay in bed and don’t move.”

“Right. And what is rule number two?”

“Watch the movie.”

“Great. And what is rule number three?”

“Don’t bother you unless it’s an emergency.”

“Awesome! Now, what is the most important rule of all?”

“HAVE FUN!!!!”

They listen so well.

After getting the kids some popcorn and drinks, it was finally time to let them leave us alone. Karina and I went into my room, accompanied by a mini DVD player, a bottle of wine, a bag of rainbow twizzlers and another bag of cheesy munchies.

After checking on the kids a half a dozen times, they finally passed out and we tried to do the same. It was hard for me though. I kept envisioning one or more of them peeing on my couch or blow up mattress.

The next morning I woke to the voice of the middle child, “Guys, wake up! Guys, it’s mooooorning. Wake up! Wake up! Wake UP!”

It was before eight in the morning.

Children are such ass holes.

Once all of the kids were moving around, AKA screaming and fighting, I barked paranoid orders from my bedroom for all of them to take turns using the restroom.

I hadn’t checked yet, but if there was a chance to save me from pee clean up duty, I was all over it.

After locating my glasses, I stumbled into the living room and found them some cartoons to watch.

While sitting on the couch, waiting for the fog to clear from my head, the youngest of the group, Pasha, came up to me and informed me, “When I am at my mom’s house. She always makes me breakfast in the morning. ”

Ugh.

So Karina and I made the little blood suckers waffles with strawberries, cheesy scrambled eggs, sausage and hashbrowns. Being the rotten aunt that I am, they had to clear their plates before leaving the table too.

Goodness, I am one mean S.O.B!

It was raining outside so the kids said they wanted to watch yet another movie.

We reviewed the rules one more time and I turned on another kids show.

Part of me feels a little bad for having them watch so much TV, but another part of me is grateful for the built in electronic babysitter.

I swear, with this many children it was near impossible to have any quality bonding time. I felt like all I had time to do was cook and clean, cook and clean, make a snack, oh wait, you’re thirsty now? Here is your drink. Wait, you don’t want water? How about juice? Oh you’re done with your apple slices now? OK. WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW?

Ahem.

Adorable little shits, all of them. Adorable little birth control reminding shits.

I returned all of the children to their appropriate homes 24 hours later with only one visible injury, which I swear was not my fault. No one had any broken bones and I am pretty sure all of the children had a good time.

Now, it seems to me like I’ve come a long way from backwards diapers and wasted wipes. And lord, oh lord am I glad babysitting is no longer my only source of income!

Not that I don’t love each of them… because I totally do. But doses of 24 hours at a time are more than enough for this childless gal.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Loved One(s)

For a while now, my little sister and I haven’t been getting along. There is no single definable reason as to why, we have just have been at odds.

My mother says it’s because we are both selfish – but that’s a post for another day.

When my sister and I fight, we find not talking to each other to be the best form of punishment. We are both sensitive and love each other too much to yell, so we just bide our time until one of us caves and tells the other that we miss them.

It’s a battle of who can stay silent the longest.

Truth be told neither of us ever lasts very long.  We’re close and ridiculously lost without each other. So you can imagine my relief when I got the following text from her:

I guess we are still not on the best of terms, but Royal Bliss will be at the Huka Bar this Friday and it won’t be worth going if I didn’t go with you…

Needless to say, my heart melted.

I asked ED if he wanted to go and that my sister had extended the invite. He didn’t hesitate. He simply said, “I guess that’s our plans for Friday night then.”

Such a good man.

Concerts don’t really allow for much time to talk and I can’t say we sorted through any of the reasons why we were fighting in the first place, but damn if it wasn’t good to have a drink or three with her while enjoying a band that we (including our friend Karina the Russian) have history with.

I’d say I was the officially winner of our fight because she contacted me first, but truthfully the real reason I am the winner is because there is now an open line of communication back up between us. That’s the best part of the whole damn concert – getting my sister back.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, Loved One(s)

Did I mention that I got asked to join a cooking club? No? Well that’s probably because I’ve only gone once and the only cooking I had to do involved drinking multiple saki-bombs while watching someone else roll sushi for us. I guess that’s not really cooking. That’s called awesome. Which is why I thought this club was perfect for me. That is, until they told me April’s theme was eggs and that I actually had to cook something.

Damn. Should have known it was too good to be true.

Still, I knew there would be booze involved so I figured I would just have to summon my inner domestic diva and whip up something amazing to blow the group away. In other words, I called my mom for help.

Lemon Meringue pie is not exactly the best choice for a novice cook like myself. All I knew was that it used both egg yolks and whites and that my mom makes it every year for my dad’s birthday.

I made sure to documented my cooking, just in case the pie turned out SO amazing that no one believed I actually made it. Because clearly, I want that credit.

So, now I am sure you are wondering if the pie actually tasted as good as it looked, right?

Well… it tasted as good as it “looked.” Past tense. I made the pie on Saturday and by Sunday evening the meringue had separated from the lemon.

Eff.

At least I tried.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – if you want to see all of the super yummy, non-runny, egg-citing dishes that my cooking club made, click on over to my friend Summer’s blog (I know what are the chances of two Summer’s being friends AND in the same cooking club?). Oh, and the talented Bake – a – Holic Summer also does catering. Just saying.

Cooking AKA Drinking club, Loved One(s)

I have been blessed with truly a-freaking-mazing friends.

A few days ago, I had confided to one such a-freaking-mazing friend, Sarah, about a hard day I was anticipating. The morning of said day, she sent me the following email:

Good luck today, honey.

I’ve provided a list of things you CAN and should be excited about.

1) That you didn’t break out like I did. I took one for the team on this. You’re so welcome.

2) Checking accounts that allow us to have our faces peeled off. Huzzah!

3) We get to have our hippie cards read this weekend, followed by a shopping trip (please?).

4) I have portable movie theater wine in my spice cupboard so if you need to escape for a couple of hours we can get drunk and giggle through a movie. DUDE, that’s way exciting.

5) Warm weather is just around the corner so you get to wear less clothing and show off all the hard work at the gym. Being hot is always something to be excited over.

6) You work for a company that not only encourages drinking, but sometimes provides adult juice.

7) I just watched the trailer for “Sex and the City” 2. The movie coming out, EXCITING! And the fact you don’t own harem pants like the girls do, VERY EXCITING!!

New York

9) The fact we can afford cabs in NY and I won’t drag you on the subway only to get us lost. And freaking mugged.

10) Glitter. I don’t have a specific reason for you to be excited about glitter, but just knowing we live in a world with glitter makes me super happy.

After reading her list for me it fully put my life into perspective. I have SO much to be grateful for. People who love me, chemical peels, vacations, warm weather, chick flicks, and glitter.

What more could a girl ask for? I submit the answer to be: not a damn thing!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Circus life, Loved One(s)

Saturday night, as I was getting ready for my big anniversary dinner with ED, I get a text message from my mom.

“Just FYI. Dad is @ the ER with a bad burn to the hand. He is going to be ok.”

Right. Only in my family does a text message, such as this, come as no surprise.

I text her back asking for more details. She tells me that he got a CHEMICAL burn while at work. About an hour later she sends me this picture.

Apparently, while at work and wearing “work issues” gloves, he somehow got CF (Calcium Fluoride?) on his hand. Turns out there was a small tear somewhere on the glove. Now pops has third degree CHEMICAL burns covering his hand.

He is out of work for three weeks and has to go to the burn unit daily where they are removing skin and grafting new.

Awesome.

Traditionally I yell at my dad whenever he gets hurt because, well, normally it’s his fault. This time it’s not his fault…

Guess you’re off the hook this time, Dad.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

UPDATE: They have started debriding (removing the skin) from my dads thumb today. They debrided his middle finger yesterday.We will know in 10-14 days if skin grafts will be needed.

I am posting a picture… with hesitation and a warning.

If you have a weak stomach please DO NOT scroll down. It really is nasty. Consider yourself warned.

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Loved One(s), Story Time