Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Take Your Dog to the Groomers, Not Me

Last night I was on an important phone call. It came in while I was at FHE, so I excused myself from the room, and walked down the hall to find a place where I could talk. A girl yelled out, "Rachel, you're sagging!" OK, I get it. Pants fall off my bum. I really should just stick to dresses and skirts, but then there are other groomers and clothing police around. Anyway, I just said, "Oh yeah?" And then I mooned her.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Raindrops, Whiskers, Packages, Sashes

Missing in Action? Yes, yes I am. Was. Um, hopefully won't be forever. Things are busy. And confusing. And wonderful. And not the way I'd planned, but I'm pretty OK with it all. Mostly, I've just been fighting through the mountains of paperwork on my desk. I made a lot of progress today. I see a light ahead. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten you, gentle readers.
Some things I've been thinking about and things that have made me extra happy over the past few days:

* I think every breakup needs a song. I know that's cheesy, but the BEST breakup ever included me walking down a few hundred steps, dramatically singing "Tell Me on A Sunday" from Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Song and Dance." Then we made out. But it was pretty wonderful, and for a while, I was absolutely contented with it. You see, not every breakup calls for Bob Dylan's "Positively 4th Street" ("I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes/You'd know what a drag it is to see you"). Of course, now when I think about Mr. Tell Me On A Sunday, I'm more prone to hum Ingrid Michaelson's "Glass" ("Rolled around on kitchen floors/ Tied my tongue in pretty bows with yours/And now we pass, and just like glass I see through you/you see through me like I'm not there/You could make my head swerve/used to know my every curve/And now we meet on a street and I am blind/I cannot find the heart I gave to you"). I'm just sayin'. I have no intention of having any more breakup songs, but if it happens, you know it will be musical.

* Why, oh why didn't I borrow Jordan's "Flight of the Conchords" DVDs before? It's Business Time.

* I would like to publicly express my gratitude for the Food Network today. Mom and I were tuning into a little Barefoot Contessa during afternoon diet-caffeinated-soda time, and I started listing many of my favorite go-to recipes that have made me a domestic diva. Oh, sure, there's the sandwich I copied from Panera Bread and the Asian Crunch Salad I mimic from Flying Star, but there'd be no Roasted Tomato Soup without Tyler Florence. Giada de Laurentis has given me access to amazing risotto and most recently a simple baklava. Men fall at my feet for Ina Garten's Grilled Chicken Ceasar Sandwich, Chicken Picatta, Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes, Roasted Rosemary Onions and Pear and Apple Crumble. I'll admit, Paula's staples aren't always on my list, but those Danish pinwheels are great for a party. And as a PS, thank heaven for Trader Joe's, the store without which I could not live.

* My Anthropologie-loving friends, let me also take a moment to wax emotional about the majesty of the store's inspiring displays and the friendly staff who are more than happy to help you with ideas of incorporating their design elements into your own home. I've been feverishly making plastic water bottle flowers for a few weeks now, but seeing my local Anthro do their own version of the display was extra-inspiring. I know my mantle will be so much better off for the spring treatment, and maybe my friend Kacie's wedding as well. Pictures to come soon-- if I ever get another digital camera.

* I love when Jacob wears man capris. There is nothing sexier on this planet. Add the South African shoes and Tibetan t-shirt, and I'm in heaven.

* Looking forward to some friend visits in the next few weeks. I've got all sorts of plans for my dear Nathan, and I'm looking forward to relaxing with Josh. And Sokphal, don't worry-- I've not forgotten you! Prepare to embrace the Land of Enchantment.

* I've got a gig as a Tarot-Card reader this weekend. I guess I should pull those things out. I really don't know the first thing about it, but it should be fun to be a carni for the weekend. Also, will there be a rendezvous in Vaughn? Only time will tell!

OK. Off to format a book we're binding tomorrow night for Relief Society. I'm humming.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

SnuggleBunny, My Hunky Cheese Boy, and a Quick Post-Valentine Quiz

Sometimes I wish I'd gone the way of my anonymous friends Calvin and Jake of MBP-- I have so many grand stories to tell, but now that I know of my extra blog stalkers (I'm talking to you, J.F.), I feel like I have to be more careful about what I say. Plus also, in my old age, I am torn between wanting to keep my relationships to myself, and also wanting to shout success from the rooftops. I'm looking for a happy medium, so we'll see how this goes. The problem is, most of you readers are just too smart and know what's going on with whom, and that just takes all the fun out of things. So here's the compromise-- I've decided to create a little quiz to give some insight to my Valentine Weekend. We'll see who gets the most answers correct. Post your response in my comment section, OK? Note: While many events described in the following questions are real scenarios, there are some that are made up, and others that do not necessarily apply to this weekend. Do not get tripped up!

Section I: True or False

1. The best Valentine's Day Rachel ever had was when Eric and Eric had her over to watch PeeWee's Big Adventure and dance to Sexy Rexy singing "Lady in Red."
2. Rachel received scandalous underwear from a boy.
3. Rachel received flowers for Valentine's Day.
4. Rachel had a romantic Valentine's Day picnic with her beloved.
5. Rachel was in charge of a church dance where she danced scandalously with a boy she kissed scandalously on a different holiday.
6. Rachel held hands with a boy in the Celestial Room of the temple.
7. Rachel adopted a child.
8. Rachel's bum got touched a lot.
9. Rachel held hands with two different boys.
10. Rachel held hands with two different boys at the same time.
11. Rachel has a hot date this coming weekend.

Section II. Matching (Note: Names of boys may be the correct answer to one question, multiple questions, or not at all)

1. The man who Rachel has regular kissing dreams about.
2. Kissed Rachel this weekend.
3. Tried "sexting" Rachel this weekend.
4. Regularly defends Rachel's honor.
5. Pure in heart.
6. The one Rachel made up with in the last week.
7. The one Rachel will make out with in March.
8. Rachel's platonic ideal.
9. The one Rachel should marry.
10. The one Rachel would have the best looking children with.
11. The one Rachel would have the most children with.
12. The "one that got away."
13. The one with a pre-arranged wedding date.
14. The one Rachel likes best.
15. The one Rachel SHOULD like best.

Possible answers:
a. Eric
b. Steve
c. Andrew
d. Rudy
e. Clay
f. Michael
g. Anthony
h. Jacob (Hatch)
i. Jacob (Dial)
j. Clinton
k. Nathan
l. Josh
m. Other (please specify)_____________

There you go, friends. Have fun, and I'll let you know who gets the most answers right in a day or two.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

A Little More Action

The other day I tried to get offended when my cousin called me out. It was Superbowl Sunday, and I was going to a "reverent" party before the branch "social" (which was much more rowdy than just staying and watching the game at Katie and Rich's place-- cage fighters are rather tame, you know). I'd changed out of my new can-can-inspired dress and into some jeans, and Garret, "swine" that he is (kidding, of course), told me I was dressed for a booty call. Then he asked where two of my boyfriends were. The thing that is so offensive is that he thought there were only two! But you know me, I just can't get/stay mad.
I'm sorry I've been so boring lately-- I've just been tired! Yesterday was a busy one, as Wednesdays often are, and by the time I made it home, all I could do was watch "A Man for All Seasons" and make more flowers out of plastic bottles. My house? Still looks like Martha Stewart got mad and threw glitter and project remnants everywhere. Also, there's a lot of clean laundry to be folded because the Snuggle Bear is angry I use Downy, so nothing is put away. The Palmolive Ladies are tsk-tsking because I've not done dishes for the last couple of days, and they want me to soften my hands. Let's not even start with how Mr. Clean is gonna kick my butt when I finally get around to mopping.
Hmm... that makes me sound like I live in filth. I don't, of course, and perhaps I exaggerate, but the craft closet needs cleaning out.
Still, as demanding as that is and as busy as I am with work (because I got next to NOTHING done yesterday-- at one point, I closed myself in my office because I needed to send bids out to about 40 different general contractors, and Zoey couldn't understand why I couldn't come play with her-- she asked me if I'd been bad and was in time out), my latest concern is WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE THE PEEPS AND I GOING TO DO FRIDAY NIGHT? Tragedy of tragedies, the dance got canceled. That means no Clinton and the Stanky Leg, or Rudy and the Bum-Wiggle/Night at the Roxbury. I'm tempted to host something, but hello! My house is small (ish) and NOT in entertaining shape, and I don't want to invite a bunch of sad-sacks who are going to hate on Valentine's Day. Remember how I love it?
Oh, on an unrelated note, I think I just might have missed my last chance at happiness... again. Got an email from this dude asking me out, but it was for 2 weeks ago! Oops! How did I miss that? Oh well and tra-la. Poor little peanut must be crushed to butter! Just kidding.
Speaking of peanut butter, Clint has a terrible peanut allergy, and I can't help but feel terribly sorry for him. The only thing that would be worse-- a popcorn allergy. Do they have those?
In other news Jacob and I are working on our cuddling skills, I booked my flight for Mike and Melanie's wedding/Amber's graduation, Lou and I are planning on a movie, and my mum is stressin' cuz the cornbread she's making for tonight's CYA dinner spilled over in the oven and the homestead is a smoky-mess. I'm rather frozen because all the windows are open and the ceiling fans are going. Gotta run and help her, and gotta go sell some insulation. On the bright side, Steve told me Monday he likes the smell of campfire on a girl, so this make work out after all.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Someday My Prince Will Come

I know I've been remiss with the posting lately, but I thought y'all would like to see who I spend most of my time with these days: My niece, Cinderella, is pretty cute, no?

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Boy-friend Love

Even after I just spent the last post talking about how great and independent I am and so forth, I must now take a few moments to give shout-outs to a few men in my life.
*Nathan-- I love him. I just don't want to rent a car with him, ever. But he gets a prize for visiting me the most.
*Andrew-- I'm so happy he's back, partying in the USA. Quite often, he says things that make me laugh for hours.
*Clinton-- How can you not want to be friends with a boy who "cries" during "Coco Before Chanel"? What a good sport!

Monday, February 1, 2010

Narcissism Rocks, and Why Valentine's Day is Worth Celebrating

A while back, I got a desk-top calendar at Talin Market in Albuquerque. It's called, "It's All About Me, All Year Long." It's got room for a daily self-portrait, the "Me-Me-Me" mantra, and a way to track each day's degree of self-involvement. I'm glad I bought it, because it makes me laugh every day. And that's good, because I need it.
Now, it pretty much goes without saying that I am egotistical-- one has to be to consistently post story after story about things of little consequence, right? I try to temper that bad quality by being kind in real life, and I honestly think I do alright on that score. I mean, at the end of the day, I never have trouble with the "What have you done for someone else today?" personal evaluation. But I'm no saint, and as much as I think of others, I spend plenty of time thinking about myself.
A couple of things have floated around the nonsense lobe of my brain recently-- that place where my thoughts go when I'm not thinking about anything in particular. The thoughts there are not necessarily nonsensical, just usually vain, prideful, etc. It should be nonsense, but this mental resort keeps me sane. Anyhow, here are some notes:
* A few weeks ago, Lou and I were at FHE, noticing some of the couples and the would-be-matches. Lou commented on people being most successfully paired with those at or about-at their level of attractiveness. Makes sense. It's a shame we all want to trade up a bit, but from our observations, I concluded a) men tend to expect to trade up, while women are more willing to trade down in the looks department and b) it is entirely possible that part of my singleness stems from being man-ish and not being willing to spend my time with ugly dudes. It's like this-- have you ever seen a photograph of yourself or caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and thought, "Oh no! That's not what I really look like! I'm so much hotter in my head!" It's a terrible feeling, but I take comfort in knowing that even ugly boys don't tend to like me, therefor I feel safe from blame.
* Forgive me if I've mentioned this before, but once upon a time, I was introduced to the Albuquerque Journal's former society reporter, Charlotte Balcomb-Lane. She was elegant and gracious, and a beautiful woman herself. She gave this then-cub-reporter one of the best tips of society reporting. She said to get the interview with the most powerful man in the room, look for the most beautiful woman. Inevitably, she'll be his date, and she can facilitate the introduction, as well as provide an attractive picture to accompany one's story. Golden advice, I assure you! However useful this information has been to me in reporting and networking, though, I must admit it's led to a much more poignant question-- one I've yet to find the answer to: Who is the most powerful woman's date? Now please bear with my delusions of grandeur for a moment, but I will say this-- from my limited experience, it is the powerful women who are often left alone.
Before I proceed, it is necessary of course, to qualify the above-statement. 1) Just because a woman is married does not make her less powerful-- on the contrary, it is a beautiful thing to see a noble woman matched to a noble man, whose joint influence bring great things to pass (we all know countless examples of such men and women, and I am infinitely grateful to have myriad such couples in my circle of friends and associations). 2) Just because a woman isn't married doesn't make her powerful. She might just be a victim of circumstance, or her would-be suitors are possibly turned-off because she is a shrew or something. It is scientifically preposterous to assume all single women are powerful. This is certainly not the case.
But for the sake of my own situation, I must admit I have often wondered just what my place in this world is. I'm clearly no potentate. I'm not Queen Elizabeth I, in such a position that love could not conquer, and marriage would compromise my position and station in life. While not without suitors, and at the risk of sounding picky (oh! the dreaded p-word or single people everywhere), my heart beats regularly, and hasn't skipped in a long time. Fawning admiration does not turn my head, nor am I impressed with macho tokens of love like overstuffed animals won at a State Fair midway. A degree of thoughtlessness can be tolerated if my beloved is engaged in a greater good, so long as it is not consistent. Many thanks to an early boyfriend who never treated me like a convenience-- he may have spoiled me, but I've come to expect it. Though battle-scarred, I am not wounded. I still maintain hope and happiness, but I now go with my gut in the matters of the heart, and if the man smells funny to me, I don't feel obligated to give him a chance.
For all you Debbie-Downers and Negative Nancys out there, let me stop you before you call me bitter and jaded. I am not. I believe in love, because I know it exists. I know it exists because I give it out (and probably more than this self-involved post would lead you to believe). I walk confidently because I'm aware God has a plan for me. I am far from forsaken. My life is rich, and I am powerful, and this month, as all others, I celebrate the love in my life. Please join me in increasing your own power by giving love out-- married, coupled or single. It's grand.