Monday, May 28, 2007

If I don't build it, you'll stop coming

I don't have on my glasses, so apologies again for the typos.

Here's what's on my mind for Memorial Day.

It was super cool to see Earl and Carol Holding this weekend in Sun Valley. They're the owners of Sun Valley Resort, Grand and Little Maerica hotels, Sinclair Oil, Snowbasin and a bunch of other properties. Anyway, I haven't seen them since I was a nanny for their grandchildren back in the mid 90s (wow, that sounds like sooo long ago.) But they were so gracious . . . and it was just a blast from the past to see them. Filled my heart with wonder.

I also saw my stylist Logan with his partner in Sun Valley. He was running a 1/2 marathon. . . Logan is responsible for making my hair look like a Pantene commercial . . seriously, when I do my hair (or better said, when he does my hair), it looks friggin' amazing.

It was a weekend of relationships.


I am very competitive . . . even at sports that I suck at like tennis. Danny and I beat Chief (my father in law) and Danny's sister Anne. I kept gtting really upset. They seemed to be fine being done after 2 sets (tied). I couldn;t believe it . . . no winner?!?! No wonder I hate playing board games . . . I'm not good at those either.


Some other stuff I wanted to mention . . . .

**I LOVE the Dwayne Wade commercial with Sir Charles when the waitnress asks Dwayne if Barkley is her dad.

**Commercials for anti-depressent drugs make you depressed.

**My husband is hot.

**I saw the JAZZ game tonight . . . at the NUKE BOX (aka Energy Solutions Arena). It was sad they didn't win, but a cool experience to be at the game.

**I was on TV last week; and now I may get to do the news!!!! Channel 2; details coming soon.

Also, I think I have a warped sense of humor, because I don;t seem to think many of the movies my husband finds hilarious to be that funny. . . but then again, he didn;t think Royal Tennenbaums was funny and I LMAO at the movie.

I love Burt's Bees anything.


I promise to write something funny next time.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Bonjour mes amis!

So much to write about . . . .

We returned from our fabulous European Va-cay last week, and I have loads to unload about.


First off, let me say that both my legs, my husband and my non-arthroscopic knee doctor are going to be thrilled with the Parisian fashionistas. They were ALL in skinny jeans and flats! It was like an 80s flashback reunion. I mean, I saw like 10 women in heels the whole time I was in Paris and they looked out of place.

I expect this to catch on with the masses in Utah in about 2 years (I know some ppl in Utah wear this, but they are either a) shopping at the Gateway Mall and have a fake Louis VItton handbag or b) living in Southern Utah, and never made the transition to “boot-cut” flared jeans 10 years ago . . .



Second – the Parisians are natural beauties. Hardly any of them wore make up – pretty much the only people who are “made-up” over there are the Americans and the Germans. All the lovely olive skinned idyllic Paris femme-fatales were eating croissants and sipping espressos from tiny cups that resembled my nieces tea party set for her dolls. It was all quite fabulous.

They just looked so amazing – not "made up" . . . but totally put together. You know how in the states during the grunge era, so many of us tried to spend time looking like we just rolled out of bed; but really we spent a lot of time looking like we spent no time?

Yeah – it wasn’t really like that . . .

But it did look like their hair had been wind-blown and then tied back out; more for pragmatics than perfection. But that’s just it – it was perfection! The humidity of the French climate made supple curls around the face – softening their striking features and giving them an almost ethereal look. . . (well, as ethereal as on can look while smoking a cigarette, I suppose).

Like I said, little to no make-up. . . in fact, the Americans that were “done up” looked so out of place. Like they were wearing stage make-up in the middle of the afternoon . . . “American in Paris” take fourteen!


I love American toilets . . .

French women aren’t fat and the men are downright "imo" looking ...

Danny and I slept 12 hours the fist night there – probably could’ve slept longer but my dad wanted to wake us up.

Yoga feels good anywhere I do it – even in a corner and Cincinatti International Airport.

It drove me crazy that I couldn’t speak the language. . . on a similar note, my husband is much more of an extrovert when he's speaking french.

Monday, May 7, 2007

Pair -EEE here I come

Tomorrow I leave for Paris!
I will spend about 8 hours in the Cincinatti Airport with no WKRP in sight . . .


Who invented the internet? I mean, I know it wasn't Al Gore, but he had something to do with it . . . but whatever his role, I am thankful for it . . .


I also appreciate shopping on line -- more than the home shopping network --which doesn;t thrill me at all because we do not have Cable.


Can someone send me some comments or something? (I will give you a topic if you need one.)

I'm feeling lonely in this alternate universe.

And I will also be attending yoga tonight . . . last night I had this crazy dream that I went to class and my mother in law, and my aunt (in law) showed up and it was a class of like 1,000 people -- and it was TOTALLY crowded and out of control.

My chakras were hurtin' . . .

Anyway, this dude comes up and is totally trying to tweak my down dog; so much that i flip over backwards -- and swallow a bunch of mud .. . it was not pleasant.

And then my alarm went off . . .

What does this mean?

Send comments to . . .

Thursday, May 3, 2007

Thursday Eve, Where's Adam?

I have no idea where Adam is, or even who Adam is . . . I'm married to Danny and I have a cousin named Adam; he grew up in Famington, but I am not familiar with his current housing arrangements.

Maybe I meant Adam Smoot, from our ward . . .which reminds me of Tyler McBride (also from the ward) . . . he and his wife, the darling Katie (Webb*) McBride are pregnant. She finally LOOKS pregnant. . . which is good because the baby girl's popping out any day. Up until about a week ago, Katie said she looked like she'd "just let herself go." That's funny, I don't care how you spin it.

*Btw, For those of you familiar with Erin Webb of Skyline Highschool Fame, they're cousins . . small world. Everyone's cousins with someone. Unless both of your parents are single children; then maybe not so much . . .


Big events this week -- Danny and I officially crossed over from newlywed-honeymoon status to pure unadulterated(sp?) love this week. Dude made the terrible mistake of eating Barbacoa on Monday night and got food poisioning. And eventhough I am the Mexican in the family (seriously, my father's biological mother hails from central mexico), I do not like that place. Watery sour cream, creepy looking corn, and the smell of that joint is just not right . . . needless to say, it does not look much better the second time. . . what I'm trying to say is; my poor husband was sooooo incredibly ill on Monday night that he was puking about 3 times an hour form 9 pm until 6:30 in the morning; and when you're dealing with the sheer volume of PUKE in an 850 sq ft apartment; not all of it is making it into the toilet or a garbage can . . . no matter how hard you try.

Good news though! I officially love my husband more than my sense of smell -- and we have crossed the proverbial threshold of infatuation-newleywed love; to the real thing. . . .

I'm just glad he's feeling better. . . But what a HECK of a weight loss plan... If yoga wasn't working out so well with my overall health and wellness, I might look into a chicken burrito . . . hmmm, maybe not.


My friend Dan from Andy Warhol's home town is going to try yoga . . . without suspenders. . . no wait, a bow-tie. That's it; I've been trying to convince him for the past 48 hours that he needs yoga in his life . . . he said fine, as long as he didn;t have to wear a bow tie. Makes sense, I guess . . . I mean everyone's got their own personal boundaries.


To Die. . . in the Rain . . actually to deliver turkeys in the rain . . .

I looked like such a freak delivering turkeys to the homelss shelter today. My work had these turkey certificates they gave to everyone at THXgiving last holiday and they were set to expire on the last day of April. So this buddy of mine -- Spencer hyde -- (some of you may know his sister Mary Jane) -- well, he had some excess certificates that weren't used and we were going to pick up the turkeys and give them to the homeless shelter. But who has room for 10 12-lb turkeys in their freezer . . . um, not me and Danny. And not spence; so I had to take 5 of the turkeys to the shelter at lunch because they close for donations at 3.

Long story longer . . . it was raining and I'm hauling close to 50 lbs of turney in plastic sacks in the rain through the court yard of St. Vincent De Paul's trying to figure out where to take the bloody things (not literally bloddy -- you get the idea). Anyway, I looked like a ridiculous east side prat. . .


Savasana . . . it's spelled savasana; and I need some sacred rest.


I am going to Paris and Switzerland on Tuesday. Someone alert their prime minister . . . hmmm, does France have a prime minister?