RC Willey Haste

So we went down to the Willey last night. After a long, painful, and agonizing search on the internet (KSL, Craigslist, Overstock.com, and many, MANY other retailers), I finally ended the search for couches to replace the beasts I have now. It was a moment of glorious bliss when I told Patti I would take them.

A little backstory on the couches that now occupy my living space. These bad boys are the couches I grew up with. Paul and I would chase each other around them (which may or may not have been misconstrued by our parents as dancing) when we were little. I mean really little (6 or 7 - you do the math). My grandparents slept on the pullout when they visited us in Kansas. Many years of Christmas gifts were displayed in an ever-so-neat arrangement on them. My parents were kind enough to bestow them upon me when I first moved to Salt Lake four years ago. I was ecstatic - my only existing piece of furniture was my papasan, so they made a nice addition.


But, alas, all things must come to an end. I'm moving shortly, and I was desperate to NOT move them to the new place, knowing that once they went in, getting them out would be a task. So, I took my trusty friends (and opinion-givers), knowing they wouldn't let me do anything stupid, we met Patti, sat our asses in the beautiful microfiber creations, and it was immediate love at first sit. I said, "I'll take it!" and we were on our way to check out.

En route to the cashier, I was busily checking my phone to update my Facebook, and gandering at the other pretty furniture I can't afford. In the midst of all this distraction, I almost missed the clear and blatant sign that was blaring from the gorgeous 50+" flat screen right in front of me - the Willey had the Where the Light Is DVD playing on their display TVs! Immediately, any kind of apprehension or hesitation I might have been feeling was washed away. The Mayer is definitely a sign - and I can't wait to watch that DVD again from the comfort of my new couches in my new apartment!

**Side note: the beast couches are for sale - I will entertain any reasonable offers
**Side note #2: now taking applications for movers AND a temporary home for these beauts until they reach their new place on June 1st

Mother's Day 2010

I think we made mom happy this Mother's Day.

I decided long ago (October when I was in Kentucky, visiting the Shaker Village) that I was going to make my mom a Tree of Life cross-stitch. I just didn't know it was going to take until Mother's Day to complete the project. Since I was so organized this year, I figured I needed to shake it up a little bit, so Leigh and also decided we'd try our hand (read: Leigh would try HER hand) at Edible Arrangements. I think it turned out FAB! Not to mention, it was delicious! I honestly can't take any credit for the beauty of this bad boy - Leigh did it all. I was just a very vocal financial backer.

I love you mom! I hope you had a wonderful Mother's/Birth Day

Waxing Philosophical

My life, of late, has become something of a difficulty. I have struggled to find the happiness I once thought I had, and struggled to find the blunders with which to blame my frustrations. As I sometimes do, I ventured home this afternoon to seek advice from the old man. After a good talk, and the shedding of some tears (sometimes it just feels good to cry), I realized that my life is not all that bad.

I'm not saying I am depressed, I'm just saying I often neglect to see the forest for all the trees. During the past few difficult weeks, life has smiled on me more than I have allowed myself to see. I need to better learn to see the little pockets of happiness that are given to me on a regular basis.

I have a wonderful family who supports me more than I deserve - be it professional or personal, they are there. My family loves me, no matter who I am or who I become.

I have an education and a job that collectively afford me an enjoyable quality of life, with many luxuries that a lot of the world aren't given. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, clean water, and an abundance of clothing.

I have friends that care about me and my happiness.

I have a loving Heavenly Father who knows me better than I know myself, and allows me to experience trials in life that will make me a better person in the end.

We all know that I love the Mayer, and once again I found his lyrical genius soothing my battered soul this afternoon: "Pain throws your heart to the ground. Love turns the whole thing around. No, it won't all go the way it should, but I know the heart of life is good."

SLC Half Marathon

Last year when I was training for the Bear Lake Half, I ran the SLC Marathon 5K as part of my prep (albeit, that day I should have run 8 miles, but still...). As I stood at the finish line watching as the half marathoners came in, I felt a pang of emotion - sadness that it wasn't me finishing my own half, and extreme pride for those that were finishing. I even watched the amazingly talented em-cat cross the finish line - before she was my friend. I SO wanted it to be me - so this year, I made it happen.

The forecast for the weekend was gorgeous - the temperature wasn't going to break 60 degrees until after 10 am, and by that time I would be done and gone. I picked up my packet on Friday and left work a few hours early, ready to mentally prep for Saturday. Saturday, April 17th dawned bright and early - I left the house around 5:50am (an ungodly hour my body only sees on Walk Day) and booked it to the Gateway. I chomped down my banana on the way and made my way to TRAX to head up to the U. I met up with Mya (a gal from my parents neighborhood) and some of her friends to ride the train to the starting line and we chatted a bit, trying really hard to not let the anxiety get to me. I chugged a Vitamin Water on the way up the hill (and it took FOREVER, mainly because of the sheer number of riders), so naturally when we got to the starting line (15 minutes before the shotgun start), I had to pee like crazy. Consequently, so did everyone else.

We stood in line - listened to the sponsors of the race, Mayor Corroon encouraging the racers, the National Anthem, and yup....the shotgun start. I still had my gear bag that I needed to stash with the gear truck for careful transport back to the Gateway - and, you guessed it, we heard the announcement that the gear truck was leaving as well. I wouldn't have cared about my sweatshirt, but my car keys were also in the bag. I made an executive decision to kindly ask a gal in jeans (i.e. a marked non-runner) if she would take my gear bag back to the Gateway and get it with the rest of them. She said she would and I had serious doubts about ever seeing my keys again. But nevermind that, I had a race to run!

I finally started the race (unsure of how late I started, and really hoping I would still be able to cross the finish line relatively close to when I asked my family to arrive) and I knew it would be a great race as I was running down Mario Capecchi and Heartbreak Warfare came up on the 'ole iPod. Love it! The trending for the first stretch was an easy downhill grade and actually quite pleasant.

I got down to about Sugarhouse Park (6 or so miles in) and started to feel it in my hips. I was making sure to adequately hydrate at each aid station, with both water and Powerade, but it wasn't helping matters much. One of the houses along the route was even handing out bacon (why, I'll never know). I kept plugging along, knowing it would all be done soon enough.

I found myself at mile 9 around Liberty Park, and I remembered the few miserable training runs I did there last year. As I made my way out of the park, I realized I was so close to being done, but I was starting the State Street climb - one of the only stretches of road that was pretty moderately uphill. It was at this point that I started seeing an aura in my left field of vision. This has never happened to me before and I was a little freaked out. That hill, and the vision issues all but killed my motivation, and the self-talk got really intense. People were passing me, and I felt like a snail creeping up the road. Perseverance and a few good tunes and I was on South Temple. I saw a guy mouth to the woman in front of me "Only one more mile!" I was so motivated by that!


Working my way along South Temple, I noticed the crowds of spectators becoming more and more prevalent, and I remembered with a swell of pride that my parents would be waiting for me at the finish line. Last year Krista was at the finish line cheering for me, but there's something about having someone who shares your DNA that makes that moment all the more enjoyable. I started watching for them, but never found them in the crowd. I was overcome with such intense emotion and accomplishment as I turned the corner into the Gateway and the finish chute. I remembered the emotions I felt the year before and almost teared up as I started sprinting to the finish. I almost felt defeated as I crossed the finish line with the official time clock reading 2:22:54, and I had to remind myself that I had gotten a late start. I couldn't worry about that - I needed replenishment!


They herded me through the chute and I was bombarded with food and beverage. I wanted to find my parents, and was seriously upset at the length of the lines to pick up your gear bag. I wandered out from the tents and immediately found my parents just outside the menagerie - what a coincidence! We snapped a few pictures, my mom so kindly offered to stand in the ginormous line to get my bag (after I explained what happened, we all started praying that my keys actually ended up at the finish line), and we headed off for breakfast. My second half marathon experience was officially over.


I got home and anxiously pulled up the site to check my official "chip" time. 2:09:31 (overall pace of 9:53). All the emotions of the day again washed over me and my heart swelled with pride. I finished 6 minutes faster than last year, shaving nearly 30 seconds off my pace. It wasn't as fast as I had hoped, but the improvement over last year was enough to make me happy about what I had accomplished. Perhaps I shall entertain thoughts of a third.

Battle Studies, Round 3

It's not Wednesday - but I have no words. I will be sitting (or, rather, standing and cheering vigorously) on that star on August 31st to see the Mayer for a third time this year. That makes for a gooooood year.

p.s. I haven't forgotten that I still need to blog about that race I did on Saturday. Patience - it is forthcoming.

Vogue

Madonna. Simply saying the word aloud makes me feel powerful.
~Sue Sylvester

Okay...so this made me all kinds of happy tonight. Vogue has long been one of my Madonna favorites, but Sue Sylvester makes it all the more delightful! Next week is the Madonna themed episode of Glee and I'm so excited!



There's even a cameo by cute Nathan Trasoras from the last season of So You Think You Can Dance.

MBP Does Giveaway?!

So...awhile back I posted about how I let these guys rate me on their blog. The jury's still out on whether that was a stupid decision or not.

Well, I still follow Mormon Bachelor Pad (despite my better judgment), and they are doing a giveaway. Now, were it ANY other giveaway, I probably wouldn't care. BUT, they are giving away a Shabby Apple Five to Nine dress. Oh, how I {heart} Shabby Apple! I haunt their site on a regular basis, dreaming of the day I can actually give in and drop a hundy on a beautiful dress. Sissy actually got me a Shabby Apple frock to wear as a bridesmaid at her wedding...FYI, I rocked it. I probably wouldn't choose the Five to Nine, but it's beautiful regardless...and I'm sure I could rock it as well.

In case you're wondering, my preference would be the Bugle Boy or the Sheep Meadow.

In case you're wondering...I want to have John Mayer's babies

I like to think that the fact that I've seen the Mayer perform in two countries makes me a "true fan." I mean, how many people (besides Tiburon) would invest the cash, time, and resources to go to a concert - two nights in a row? Canada came and went in a blur (all but the last 3 hours in the country, spent anxiously waiting a border crossing - but that's a story for later).

Getting into the country was easy - a quick 10 minutes off the I-5 and we were in business. As we meandered around Vancouver, we found our hotel and took to the primping. I learned firsthand just how expensive Canadian toiletries are. We had a wonderfully fantastic $16 caesar salad at the Shark Bar, puttered off to our $30 parking space, and made our way into GM Place in the misting rain.


Again, I wasn't overly jazzed to hear Franti again (and a wee bit pissed about our seats at the very back of the arena - fan seating, my ass), so the show was off to a great start. Once they drew the curtain, however, the Mayer anticipation set in with a vengeance. I was seriously freaking out again - Heartbreak Warfare rocked my pants right off (well, not literally, but you get the gist). The energy was already better than the night before - higher in ways that one cannot experience legally in the U.S. (if you catch my drift).

The fabulous set continued, and Mayer didn't disappoint. Despite the awful seats, the show was freaking amazing. The moment that absolutely made the trip was when flames lit up the stage and I heard that opening riff to Slow Dancing in a Burning Room. I'm not lying when I say I think I had a baby orgasm. The performance was so impassioned and I was transported back in time to the first time I heard it live at Red Rocks. Fabulous.

He again played Assassin, and again the mood was intense and the crowd was wild (and the lala girls were totally wigging out - hard to miss). The remainder of the set list was pretty good, with only a few standout parts - first of which was All We Ever Do Is Say Goodbye acoustic. This was one of my favorites from Battle Studies (well, let's face it - there's not many that I dislike), and performed without the band, it was pretty dang good.

Second standout item of the evening - seeing Tiburon practically piss her pants when the intro to Neon started. She REALLY wanted him to perform this one (probably about the same as me wanting to hear Slow Dancing) and her reaction was seriously priceless.

Again, the closing song was Half of My Heart, and again, I totally dug it. This time, however, it was infused with a rendition of Don't Stop Believing (making for a fantastic combo). I think the Canadian Mayer fans did him proud (prouder than the American fans - but hey, when illegal substances are involved, is there really a contest?) and the energy prior to the encore was palpable - he didn't stay off stage for too long before coming back out and playing Who Says and Gravity. What a great way to wrap up the night. And again, Tib hasn't disappointed - her concert recap is stellar. Her video is amazing.


Some other non-Mayer related highlights:

• Tib almost hitting an elderly lady
• Waiting 3 SOLID hours to cross back into the USA (still surprised they let us back in - but had they not, there was another Mayer show in Calgary two nights later...just sayin')
• Meeting Tib's awesome family and getting a better understanding of her "roots."
• Eating Tib's mom's AMAZING cooking - a fab beef dish, and seriously, I'm not a beef eater - and I ate the ENTIRE thing.
• NOT getting a stamp in my passport for leaving the country (ok, this really is a drawback - but in a post about Mayer, I can't say anything negative....unless it's about our seats)
• CUPCAKES for breakfast!
• Staying up until 3am talking like high schoolers

Best part of the whole thing? Knowing that in August, the whole affair can happen again, here in the SLC...he's performing at USANA on August 31st.

Hold on. We might die.

There are few things in life that please me as much as hearing The Mayer play live. He is one of my life's great loves. His music whispers to my soul. I'm on a Mayer high and I'm not sure I want to come down.

8:15 am, Wednesday morning rolled around quick (considering I procrastinated packing until the wee small hours as usual). I pulled up at Tib's house just in time to see her kids emerging in their PJs for the quick jaunt to the airport. After waiting what felt like hours to de-ice the plane, we were off, and a short 2 hours and 3 minutes, we landed at SEA-TAC. We got our rental car and swiftly headed up to Broadway for a Dick's Burger (totally kicked In and Out's ass), did some shopping downtown, and headed out to Tib's parents to get ready for our Mayer experience number 1.

We got to the Key Arena in Seattle, procured our souvenir tour t-shirts, found our seats (on the floor, row AA28) and waited. We got there an hour early. Thanks to a Ticketmaster glitch, we thought the show started at 7, when indeed it started at 8. No matter - it just gave us an extra few minutes to sweat out the anticipation (it really had been TOO LONG since I witnessed the Mayer in all his LIVE glory).

Michael Franti and Spearhead opened - not my favorite, but they did a great job elevating the energy and engaging the audience. Dirty hippies make the best openers. I was ready for them to be done long before they were - I was seriously pissing my pants with anxious anticipation. Following Franti's set, the crew set to work (not quickly enough) preparing the stage for the main event. And seriously, I don't think any crew has ever worked slower.

Finally, the lights went out and the crowd went wild. I don't think my heart has ever beat that fast - I had researched the prior shows and I knew what I was in store for in the coming moments. He opened with Heartbreak Warfare, easily one of my favorites from Battle Studies. I could not believe how amped I was! But, again, as I said earlier, there are few things in life that please me more than listening to Mayer live.

The rest of the set was fantastic. With one exception - not many "talkies." Mayer always has some great anecdotes and musings to accompany his music, and those talkies were distinctly missing from the evening's performance. As we all know, the Mayer has had a helluva year thusfar, sticking his foot in his mouth more times than I care to acknowledge. I pictured a very one-sided conversation between Mayer and his publicist before the show to go something like this:

"John, you better be careful tonight, because if you open your mouth and embarrass yourself or me one more time, I might just castrate you."

I was a wee bit disappointed at the absence of talkies, but the music was phenomenal - just as it always is. I won't go in depth with the set list, but rest assured, Tib's always got my back, keeping immaculate records, and has documented the whole night with photo and video. He included an amazing 4-5 song sub-set of pure acoustic bliss - it is seriously Mayer at his finest. I think my favorite song of the night was a toss up between Assassins or Half of My Heart. These two were definitely not my immediate favorites on the album, but performed live, they were BOSS! Assassins was definitely more intense on stage than on the album, and included a bitchin' guitar solo mid-stream. Half of My Heart, I've decided, is another of my life's theme songs. Performed live (sans T-Swift), I fell in love.

Great show. Definitely worth every penny and ounce of effort I put in.

Stay tuned...the great international Mayer experience coming soon :)

I am Cougar, Hear Me ROAR

(and I definitely don't mean this in the BYU variety...)

I have always claimed to like older men. In dating scenarios, I feel like if the guy is older than me, they are "dominant." Just as if they were taller than me, or outweighed me by more than 10 pounds. I've always had a dominant personality so it's always been important for me to find those characteristics in guys I date.

I guess my "cougar" tendencies really started to come out in high school (strangely, when I had only been dating a year or two). There were a handful of freshmen boys I coveted during my own senior year. What can I say - they were adorable. I even had baby crushes on my brothers' friends.

During my adult life, I put that side of me to rest - insisting on only dating guys who were my age or older. Yet last year when the opportunity arose to go out with a guy I had been lusting after for months, despite his very young age, I took it. He was taller than me (by a head), and outweighed me by at least 10 pounds (times 5 or more), there was just this little matter of 6 years I had to look past. And look past, I did. I talked to some friends about it, dubbed myself a "cradle-robbing, cougar, whore" and got on with it. It seemed the only one who had issue with my age was me. Sadly he has left me for 2 years (you figure out why).

Since then, I have semi-fully embraced the title Cougar (although I don't think you can actually be called a cougar until you are 40). I have found solace in being attracted to the younger generation of Hollywood:

Joe Jonas

Zac Efron

Fast forward to THIS Monday in my real life. I'm working on a fundraising campaign through several high schools in the state and I had the privilege of visiting West High to motivate and encourage them in their efforts. I showed them the ever-motivating "Sydney Video," answered several intelligent questions about diabetes and went back to the office. Their teacher called me a few minutes later and told me I had forgotten to bring some supplies she needed, so I booked it back to the school the second time. As I dropped the materials off, she mentioned to me that after I left some of the boys were talking about me, "I think they would fundraise better if you come talk to the class a few more times - they think you're pretty cute." I had a little giggle walking back to my car, flattered and appalled at the thought of high school boys being attracted to me.