Couturier

Why?

2011-03-13T00:28:00.000-05:00

Well the reasons are various and many.

The first time we came out here was (yes, I did live in Richmond for four years but I don’t count it seems how those for years were the first four years of my life) in 2008 when my sister, Kimberly married some dude ;) and stole her from me and replanted her in Va. Fredericksburg to be exact. We fell in love. With everything. The diversity, the endless list of things to do, the foliage, the history, the culture, the fact that it’s not Utah. Oh, I mean, I . . .oh what the hey, I’ll say it: I’m glad to be out of Utah. Of course Utah is not all bad. It’s just not the best fit for us as Team Couturier or as individuals. I’ll spare you all the dirty details. There will be many things that I’ll miss about Utah. Actually, I don’t know if ‘miss’ is the right word. I like that in Utah you always have the mountains to tell you what direction you’re facing. That’s not really enough to keep me in the beehive state. Sometimes it was pretty. I liked the fact that I knew the state well- as in all the cities & neighborhoods-just general knowledge-Ive been researching my can off to get myself familiar with the Cville area. I’m getting there-slowly getting over the fact that I never know what direction I’m in and have to rely entirely on my navigation unit.

Cap’n also fell in love with the University of Virginia. Thomas Jefferson is the proud papa of this university and is lovely. The grounds are quite pretty and I’m looking forward to Garden Week there. Apparently it takes place every year and a HUGE to do is made about it. Google some pics of it, you’ll wanna go too. It is a goal of Team Couturier to put Cap’n through law school. UVa’s law program is number 10 in the nation. One has better odds of acceptance if one is a Va resident. So uh, hehe, that’s another reason: to build residency. Not only that but school is cheaper for residents. Even if (heaven forbid because I don’t want to move again until it’s time to buy a house and put down roots) he doesn’t get accepted to UVa’s law program, there are other schools in Va that would be a second choice. A distant second choice. Very distant.

It’s beautiful here. The land is not flat at all. It undulates. You can’t see far ahead on the road because it rolls and twists and turns out of site behind the trees. Old trees. Old trees that still have frequently found civil war bullets and even older arrow heads resting on their roots. I guess Va is known and proud of their wine producing too. Which, whatever, I don’t care about rotten grapes you have to force yourself to get used to, but the vineyards make for some beautiful scenery. Am I using beautiful too much? Alright then, how about: striking, gorgeous, breath taking, enchanting. There’s a pond near home and tonight the frogs were in full concert-fabulous. It’ll be interesting to watch the girls encounter them for the first time. I hope you can’t contract anything from them...ew.

It’s not all fab though. With all the forestry and open country means animals. On the road. Deflated. I’ve found that denial works well in this case. I have to keep my eyes peeled on the road so I don’t look somewhere and get a surprise eye full and I can tell myself it was something else like a cardboard box or carpet. This works famously as long as I don’t look directly at it. Also: bugs. Fleas and cicadas namely. Hasn’t been a problem yet and the girls ARE protected against that yuck but still. And I dare you to google cicadas. They are perhaps the UGLIEST bug ever. Your text book ugly bug. It could win the position of ugly bug king at the ugly bug ball (thank you Burl Ives). I guess they don’t do anything but make noise. But it’s so much noise that you go outside and sounds like there’s a helicopter on your front porch. There’s BILLIONS of them. I am so not kidding. There are so many it’s reminiscent of the ten plagues or sum’m. They’re not out yet but when they are....plague is a fitting word.

Flies . . . of a butter and dragon sort.

2011-03-12T00:23:00.001-05:00

There is a Native American legend that says, "If you have a secret wish, capture a butterfly and whisper your wish to it. Since butterflies cannot speak, your secret is ever safe in their keeping. Release the butterfly, and it will carry your wish to the Great Spirit, who alone knows the thoughts of butterflies. By setting the butterfly free, you are helping to restore the balance of nature, and your wish will surely be granted."

Isn't that the coolest?!

I also once heard that fairies mascarade around as dragonflies in public site. But only to adults. Children still see the real fairy. I was totally on board with this theory until someone said 'adults can't see 'em though. Only sticky-fingered, lound, smelly, 'gimmie all yer food' children can'. What a crock . . . only kids can see 'em. . .make me mad. . . little brats wouldn't know what the . . .

So Much On The Mind. So Little Of Consequence.

2010-03-31T23:20:00.000-04:00

Wow. Just drew a blank. Ok then; I'm just gonna ramble:
Had a dream last night that my dad tried to commit suicide and failed. He did manage to blow his hand off though. Cleanly. Gross and how retarded are you?

I went to a cadaver lab recently and found myself absolutely fascinated. More than a lifetime of knowledge to glean & I could only be there for an hour. Suck! There was so much to see and ask and look at and feel and...I will say though, I did find a line I wouldn't cross. That line was holding a severed head-that was cut in half lengthwise while another girl in the class held the other part of the head across the room. Nope. Not gonna do it. I did do other things that though that may seem a little nastier than that to some, so I'll omit that part. Believe me, I didn't want to do it, but the professor actually yelled at me to do it. So. I did. Damn that need to not get in trouble! Anyhoo. I really have been wondering how I could get into this field of work. That is- working with people post mortem. After some online search and calling around I learned that you either need to be a doctor or have a BS degree in something medical. Anything. Just medical. You need to have experience with histology (the study of human tissue) and experience with death. The autopsy assistant that I spoke with today was pleased to answer my questions. Experience with death? How does one get that? He says he prefers that an employees work at a funeral home for a while first. They have hired people in the past who haven't had this experience and have been heartily traumatized their first day on the job. Pay starts at 8 bucks an hour. Yep. BS degree for 8 US dollars an hour. Granted, most people doing this job are premed students so they're more interested in the 'building a resume' and experience part of it. I just want it for the learning. I could never be a doctor. I'm missing a few marbles to be able to do that. But if I still had my shooter... Anyway. The End.

Oh. And I also dreamt last night that I met my favorite actress: Meryl Streep. She was so nice! She hugged me and told Dennis to get some pictures of us. And so we did a photo shoot right there on the tarmak! Best meeting of a celebrity ever.

Don't read The Great Stink by Clare Clark. I thought the reader was supposed to like the main character at least a little bit. Nope. Turns out that the main character in this book in the first chapter is an impotent cutter. You heard me. Not even prostitutes can help this psycho dude out. Buh. . .just don't do it.

But do read Stiff: The Curious Lives Of Human Cadavers. Freaking fascinating. Freaking disgusting, but freaking fascinating all the same. The chapter on Embalming is catalyst enough for a paradigm shift.

Let's keep this short and palatable.

2010-01-07T22:11:00.000-05:00

A few years ago I received a Christmas greeting card from one of my favorite people inwhich she kept the family newsletter short and sweet with a top ten list of their family. This is what I attempt to do now for 2009 but with more or less than ten. Ahem:

1. Nancy turned 29 and flipped out. Dennis turned 33 and didn't.

2. Flew to beloved Fredericksburg, Va. to greet a new family member to the world. Promptly got sick there & pretty sure we gave the new bundle RSV. She came out of it beautifully though.

3. Celibrated our ninth year of marriage and best friendhood.

4. Sold the house in a week.

5. Moved to Orem where Dennis found a new full time job, transfered with UPS to work at at night and enrolled full time at UVU in their Aviation Management program. That's right: One full time job. One part time job. And a full load at UVU. They don't call him Captain Fantastic for nothin'.

6. Nancy searched for three months to find a job and when she had given up hope and was sure she was going to end up working at a gas station (really) she landed her ideal job at Remedez: the AVEDA spa in Orem. (Also the best spa in Utah Valley. Really. Look it up in Utah Valley Magazine.)

7. Nancy enrolled at the local tech. school for Medical Assisting and upon google imaging 'carbuncle', isn't sure she want's to go into the medical assisting field.

8. Although living with Nancy's parents, the Couturier's have been blessed to be able to keep their children, Sidney and Maggie; who, by the way, are heartworm free and healthy.

9. After two and a half years NANCY GOT HER BRACES OFF.

10. Found some ooooollllld friends on facebook and have loved catching up with them from the last 20 years.

And last but not least,

11. Nancy cried when she realized she could say "Wow! I haven't spoken with you in twenty years!"

Six is red and is a girl.

2009-09-21T22:38:00.000-04:00

This is not a “Whose on second and Whats on third” kind of joke. I’m for realzies. I don’t know if it’s an ADD thing or a Synesthesia thing. But Nancy! What is synesthesia?! Well, beloved readers, I’ll tell you: 1 : a concomitant sensation; especially : a subjective sensation or image of a sense (as of color) other than the one (as of sound) being stimulated2 : the condition marked by the experience of such sensations.
I know. Totally retarded definition. Could you be more vague, Merriam Webster? Basically it’s when I’m writing numbers I get a feeling, or to use Merriams words, ‘sensation’, that the number six is female, is red and is fat but seven and eight are totally into her. And while she’s technically with seven, eight likes to show him (seven) up a lot. Totally lost? Don’t be. It’s rather simple. Each number has a personality and color. This is something that goes on in my head while I am doing fractions, writing down an address or closing out the till at nights- really, whenever I see a number. Apparently I’m not the only person who has this. . .thing. I have a friend who sees this all too. Some of our numbers even match. Like six being a girl. Smithsonian magazine did an article kind of about this stuff a number of years ago but it was on people who when they see colors THEY TASTE STUFF!!! How freakin crazy is that?! This is so top twenty questions I’m going to ask about when I get to heaven. That and I’d like to see in a pile how many bobby pins I went through in my lifetime. . . This is what I think about folks. Frequently Dennis asks me what I’m thinking about. Sometimes I don’t want to tell him.

Anyway. Let me tell you about them.

1. Unisex actually and is usually red. Has a lot of baggage and self worth problems being the lowest number. I wish I was making this up.
2. Yellow. Male. On top of things and is 1’s only friend and 2 is totally ok with it. He’s more than fine to be 1’s keeper.
3. Red. Girl. Really fat. Gets along with everyone. Changes shape a lot. Never know if she’s gonna be like the CEO or the theme park attendant.
4. Light blue. Male. Serious. Nor a real game player. Straight faced. Noble.
5. Dark blue. Male. Also serious. Quiet. But definitely makes a mark. Like he adds something to the room when he’s there. Easy and smart.
6. Red. Girl. And like I said, she is with 7. She has a pear shaped body. Junk in the trunk.
7. Maroon. Male. Has an important job. He’s ‘big league’. He and 9 get along really well and often times work with each other in problems I don’t get. Older. Very masculine.
8. Yellow/grey (weird, I know. But I think we’re far enough past the line of weird that anything goes now. All very Alison in Wonderland, sorta.) Male. He’s a jerk. He’s good at what he does but always lords over 7 that when he’s paired up the 6, they make 48 instead of just 42. Crap like that. Makes 7 feel really bad about himself. Like he can never measure up.
9. Sometimes doesn’t have a color. Sometimes black, sometimes red. Always a dude though. Again, very masculine. Doesn’t get into any of the games that the numbers below him do. His mere presence commands a sort of reverence and cooperation. Couldn’t care less about 6.
10. Black. Male. ALWAYS trying to get into the bigger leagues. After all, he is the first double digit. He’s always looking to 11 and 12 for guidance and advice.
Now it gets tricky.
11. Yellow/Grey. Female. She and 12(Black. Female) are bestys and don’t really care about 10. They’re too busy trying to go out with 14 and 15 who seem so grown up and ‘cool’.
Then we kind of revert back to the beginning. 13:red; 14:light blue. . .Strangely, 20, yes, is yellow, but female. 30’s are red; 40’s are grey. . .
All the other colors that are out there? I don’t know. What happened to green or purple or pink? Why just that small amount of colors? And repeated amounts? And how come grey gets coupled with yellow? How weird is that?!

I am not taking questions at this time.

Not As Cool As The Old Ones

2009-08-29T17:42:00.000-04:00

Well, it’s that time again. We’re a atwitter with to do lists and shopping lists. Buy books at overstock.com. Another one from B&N. College ruled paper from wal-mart. Pens from office max. Crayons from Shopko. Well, not crayons. Neither Dennis or I have an art class. Yet. But I did need a pencil box. What? I like having lots of different colored pens and pencils. Makes my notes nicer to look at. Helps me remember better too. I used my red pen yesterday to take notes on Hepatitis B. Red=blood=liver=hepatitis (inflammation of the liver). See how that works? Nice, eh? But let me go back. Back to the part about the pencil box. That’s right. Can I just saw how utterly disappointed I am in the pencil box industry? I will tell you very. Very disappointed. No where can you find the pencil boxes of our childhood. I don’t particularly mean a rainbow bright one. I mean the big clunky cardboard ones. The ones with the flap top-nothing needed to snap shut. If you didn’t want all your treasures falling out you’d simply push the lid in past the front wall of the box. ‘Member? And when you did want to finally open it again, you’d simply turn it upside down and shake the hell out of it, hoping you had enough crap in there heavy enough to shove the lid open again. The inside was always white. At first. Then, with all your many crayons and gross erasers, glue sticks, pencils and pens, eventually it looked and smelled like hell. But man! I loved to organize that thing. I was always so pleased when the length of my sciscors were the perfect fit horizontally or verticall too. Of course if you were a rich kid, you didn’t have one of these. You had something better. You had something pink and plastic and made by Hello Kitty. Bitches. Those things had everything. Built in pencil sharpener? Check. Magnifying glass so you can take your sock and shoe off in the middle of your teacher reading “The Indian in the Cupboard” and stare at the sliver you got in the bottom of your foot last night on the wooden play ground and then get distracted by the wart growing ever so healthily next to the sliver? Yep, magnifying glass too. I’m kidding. Of course. Little blonde girls with Hello Kitty paraphernalia coming out their ears don’t get warts. Duh. Compartment for your eraser (that was also pink and was included)? Check. Note pad slot WITH notepads with the damn cat's face on the paper so that every time you sent a note to someone they knew you were somebody because you had Hello Kitty? Check. Any Hello Kitty item at my school (my last elementary school in Plain City, Utah) was a badge of honor. Gucci for fifth graders. The acceptance offered, the security made, the cozy peaceful nights rest all found in an item emblazoned with a white faced cat sporting a pink bow and whiskers. This was the standard for which you were judged. That, and if you wore guess, gerbaud, or esprit. But we’re talking about desk accessories here today and I frankly don’t care to talk about how many pairs of guess jeans I did have. (It was two, by the way. Because of my sweet cousin, Kirsten sending me a box of clothes one summer. God bless you for that, Babe. You were my ticket into the ‘in’ crowd. For about a week. Once. But that’s a whole other story involving spoiled blonde haired children, purple tights and a girl wearing glasses the size of tea saucers who got me into schloads of trouble.) Anyway. Hello Kitty was where it was at. There was even a Hello Kitty store at our mall. I dared to go in it. Once. Once. And didn’t stay long. For two reasons: One, everything that was in there, I KNEW my parents would NEVER, EVER buy. Way too expensive. Offensively expensive. And two, I didn’t want to be kicked out. What if other patrons or store employees knew that I couldn’t afford this stuff and they’d throw me out? Really? These were the thoughts of a fifth/sixth grader. Seriously! What if they could tell by the way I was dressed or something, or they didn’t recognize me from a ‘I make a lot of money’ parties? And would it go on my ‘record’ that I went into a store of which I could afford nothing? Would background checks be done on me in the future by potential employers or would-be rich friends? Is that why ROSS didn’t hire me last week?
I think I should stop here.

What I wanted:

What I got: except, thankfully, none of my pencil boxes ever had some one else's name on them

What I got today: the only thing available anymore

Things I've Learned From Estheticians

2009-08-16T22:59:00.000-04:00

Exfoliate more often: For me anyway. You could be doing it 2 to 3 times a week.

Use masks: You only ever need a thin layer too. Your skin is only going to be in contact with so much of the stuff- don’t waste it.

Don’t rub your eyes!

IF you are going to skip a step in your daily facial treatment regimen, let it be the spritzing of toner. IF.

DO NOT get microderm abrasion! It is SO bad for your skin. It'll even SCAR your face! I've seen it for myself too. If you want to do some sort of peel or resurfacing treatment, go with an all natural one. (Like AVEDA's called Botanical Skin Resurfacing Facial go here to read more about it)

Just because you bring in a picture of the kind of eyebrows you want doesn’t mean you’re going to walk out of the spa/salon with those eyebrows AND THERE IS A VERY GOOD REASON FOR THIS: eyebrows are shaped differently from other eyebrows. Some are short or narrow. Some have naturally high arches. If you don’t have much arch to your eyebrows but want a more rounded line, there’s only so much the esthetician can do. Don’t get mad at her because you have a different eyebrow to begin with than the girl in the picture.

And still on the subject of eyebrows: it’s ok to take from the top.

Don’t pull on your eye when you’re putting on your eyeliner.

When getting waxed (anything) it’s best if you don’t come when you’re PMSing because it just hurts more. But if you do go when you’re PMSing (and it’s ok if you do) you can take Tylenol for the pain before you get waxed. Drinking apple juice seems to help too.

When getting bikini waxes, make sure to be very specific in what you want. Every spa/salon is different in what they term an extended bikini is. Some say that is just going in a little more but some places mean that as their brazillian. And the prices vary, vastly.

Just because you have an oily face doesn’t mean you don’t need a moisturizer or that you won’t get just as many wrinkles as anyone else. You are not immune!

You need to moisturize your skin from the inside AND outside. Drinking 64 ounces of water is not going to ensure moisturized skin. Especially in this dry, Utah climate. Moisturizer doesn’t just moisturize either. It protects your skin from A LOT of stuff. Depending on the moisturizer, it defends against all sorts of free radicals, age spots, sun damage, and even losing your body’s own moisture. YOU CANNOT GET ADDICTED TO LOTIONS OR CHAPSTICKS.

Polish get gloopy? Add some fingernail polish remover to it. Just a drop or two into the polish bottle itself.

Songs I am totally digin' right now.

2009-08-15T23:04:00.000-04:00

Chris Isaak: Wicked Game

Bryan Adams: Everything I do, I do for you

Jason Mraz & Colbi Caillat: Lucky

Jason Damato: Floating down a river

P!nk: Please don't leave me

Elliot Smith: Waltz, No. 1

Led Zeppelin: Going to California

Because I'm feeling nostalgic and lonely and cheesy to the second power.

2009-08-12T22:58:00.000-04:00

(I don't know why some of these are underlined. . .pretend they're not there. . .you remember pretend, right?)

"You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry. "

"In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do. "

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.”

"How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people.”

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

And Someone Else Who Made A Texas Sized Impact On My Life. Presenting: Laura Jane!

2009-08-10T17:01:00.000-04:00

What can I say about my friend Laura? Plenty. Yes. Many a word come to mind when Laura’s name is mentioned. The most outstanding of those works: laugh. I have laughed with Laura more than anyone else on this earth. And not just because we were best friends during our teenage years when girls are prone to giggle over the most retarded crap ever. We still laugh a lot together. We continue to be on the same wave length. Still finish sentences. Not as much, but still.
Laura and I met when I was fifteen and she was four and half months ahead of me at sixteen. It was a big deal then. She had her drivers license. That made me still, technically, a child. One dependent still on her parents. But it wasn’t a car that was our friendship tie. It was first the internet. In 1995? Yes. My family received one of those America Online CD’s and I hoped onto the chat lines like a pig to slop. Of course Laura was curious too and the rest is history. We were nearly inseparable for four-ish years after that. That’s a pretty good chunk of time. An era, you might say. Day and night. In the middle of the night, on vacations, dinner time, family outings, we were together. We would plan to call each other at three o’clock in the morning and then would! What could possibly be so important that we would need to stay up and talk at three in the morning?! Her mother thought it unhealthy that we spent so much time together. Maybe it was. I still don’t know. Probably was too much time together. We fought ferociously. Laura was unrelenting and pushy and I was self-righteous and condescending. That is a fantastic formula for some wicked fights. But we laughed more than we fought. We had an awesome little stint of teenage years. We were both, to our dismay, boyfriendless, tall, long-haired, shelas living in a fantasy world we’d created where, of course, we were the heroines. Hot heroines. With men falling all over themselves for our hand. Did I mention the magical powers we had? Maybe I should stop here. I don’t believe I’m painting a very good picture of mentally well developed teenagers here. But I can’t stop now. I should. But I can’t. This is where it gets funny. No. No I can’t do it. Or should I sacrifice my and Laura 's dignity for a laugh from a few readers. . .? All five of you? Well I’ll tell you some things. Names. Mind you, we didn’t call each other these names when ever. We actually never called each other these names. We only referred to each other as Aramina and Gwendalyn when we were “working on our story” that would ‘someday’ be published. When we weren’t ‘working’ on our story or telling each other other stories of romance, we were retardedly obsessed with the football team. We never missed a game. Not even when I was super sick. I will tell you there names but not the year; that way if Laura still cares for anonymity, she can afford to be vague with any inquirers. John and Joe. Joe and John. “Dude, Nancy. Joe is totally looking at you right now. Oh my gosh, he’s still looking. Quick laugh and toss your hair over your shoulder. Oh my gosh, he’s just still standing there staring.”
“John is wearing his jersey again today. Oh my gosh, he looks so fine! Go get ‘em, Laura!”
“Is he clenching his buttcheeks one at a time?!” “Oh my gosh! Hahaha! Imagine what else he can do then!”
“I had another dream about Joe last night. We got lost in the woods and he was wearing that one shirt that makes his eyes pop and. . .”
“I can’t believe he’s going out with her. I heard they showered together.” That’s right folks. That was a real rumor going around. That they showered together. Ha! And now kids in high school are actually open about their STDs. I have two things to say to that 1) Oh my gosh! Those babies?! And 2) Ew!
Anyway, back to Joe and John. It’s true what my mother said. Joe (&John) didn’t know I existed. But oh man, we knew all about them, weirdo little girls that we were. We didn’t do anything too creepy; we didn’t stalk them or anything butta. . . we knew what classes they had.
The VERY last activity of high school for us was a stag dance (or a stomp). I almost had the nerve to ask Joe to dance. I actually did walk up to him and as he turned to face me, inches apart, I fumbled for words and that stupid blonde bitch stepped in-between us and started yammerin in his face. I needed quick recovery. The only guy around not doing anything was the student body president. “Hey (what ever his name was) let’s dance!” So we did and I never saw Joe again. At seventeen I went through like a mourning process or something. I was so devoted to my obsession with him. I would even feel guilty for crushing on other guys once in a while, and always went back to Joe.
So anyway, Laura and I made it through high school all the way to the end with VL. (This term still makes me laugh. I can hardly type it without cringing. VL= Virgin Lips) Feel free to take a moment and scorn me.. . .done? Laura went on to Dixie college and I stayed behind to work at Mervyn’s thinking one day I could just move up the latter. Eventually Laura made friends. With boys. ! And one of them kissed her. Laura’s been kissed! Laura’s been kissed! We could have ridden through town Paul Rivere style, shouting it to the world. I don’t know his real name. Everyone called him. . . something else. A nickname. You’ll have to ask Laura if you want to know. It’s just that bad. She called to tell me all about it. It was nice ( if I remember her correctly) and she could still feel his spit on her lips. Her lips that were no longer VL. OMG. Well of course the pressure is on for me now. And I was getting NOWHERE in Orem. I would be nineteen soon and didn’t want to be almost 20 with VL!! I was (and I hate to use this word on myself) desperate. Laura, being the good pimp that she is, set me up with a guy in Dixie. She was certain he would kiss me. So on one of my many trips to St. George, I met Jesse Hart. He was 6’6”. Six feet, six inches tall, y’all. And a football player. And I guess he was cute. Alright, alright, his looks were meh. Just bear in mind my desperation. I just needed a dude. And it was October. I’d be nineteen in January. Time was running out. At the moment it didn’t matter to me that he was the campus slut. A man whore. The town bike. A run of the mill disgustington. I was on a deadline. Laura, being the ever handy friend, made it work. Jesse and I got our half hour of alone time and he kissed me. Now I could go back to Laura and compare notes. How was Jesse? Any tongue? Did he just lean over? Were you standing? Sitting? Where? Then what happened? Where were his hands? And yours?
The first thing that Laura said to me once I got back from this NICKMO session was ‘your lips are swollen.’ I know. Ew. But what a friend Laura was! She got her girl’s back! She went and did! Go Laura! She used to feel guilty about it. But she shouldn’t. She did what I asked. Not that I wanted to fool around with a public toilet, but hey. The point is, I said please and she scampered off like Igor on Frankenstein’s salacious business. “Laura. Igor. Bring me back a boy. A boy to do what I will with. Fresh and young, Laura. Go now.” YECH! I hope never to play that role again.

Somehow, over time, distance from each other got in the way. Then a husband. And jobs and other friends. It hurt but life went on for both of us. Eventually we stopped communicating altogether. It just happened. But she was occasionally present in my mind. I would dream about her- we’d be retarded teenagers again in my parents pick up in the mountains pretending to see tree people. Or talking about our brothers and the brief crushes we had on them. And for both our sakes, I do mean BRIEF. So I sent her a birthday card one September afternoon to her mothers house. And she responded with a phone call to reminisce of her seventeenth birthday where she found out that John was actually a douche bag, there was no party or ANY kind of commemoration of her birthday from her family, and she spent the day picking up garbage in the football stadium from the game the night before. And then. There was the bathroom at the mall. . .

blah, blah, blah yappity schmamitty. . .

2009-08-09T19:42:00.000-04:00

So I’ve been in school for two weeks now and am showing proof of a working brain. I know. I know. We were both very excited about it. And what am I going to school for, one may ask. Medical Assisting. That’s right. Depending on what kind of office I work at after I get licensed, I could be doing all sorts of things. Foot molds to shots to allergy tests. Could be fun. The point of doing this is two fold: one, Utah Valley does not have a massage market and I will not be the pioneer for it; two, I need something better paying than retail to support Dennis & I while he goes to school. I am still trying to convince him to quit so he can just focus on school. So because I will be learning how to do shots and IV’s, so are the other people in my class and that means: yes. I have been stuck twice now. With a needle. A fairly sizable needle. With nothing in it but saline. For nothing. So someone can pass it off on their list of things to do. Yes, once in the arm and once in the can. This is just in the two weeks I’ve been there. It will get worse, I’m sure. I know, I feel bad for me too. I am a total victim in this story and deserve to be coddled. ;) I am happy to say that I am finding my place in my classroom though and may get lucky enough to make a friend or two. We’ll see.
As for church. I don’t know. I’m keeping my hopes up. All the girls there are really young and I’m afraid they may spot a fine line or two on my face. I don’t know what will happen then. But we are kind of in the same place in life so. . .A couple of things I’ve noticed strange in this ward though. A) There is a small handful of girls who bring snacks to church. For themselves. They have no children. I have spotted a few in sacrament, out on the lawn and even in relief society. And they’re noisy about it too. What’s funny is that they actually try to be quiet about it though. Do you really think you can be quiet about snorgling into a Ritz crackers sleeve without being caught? No matter how hard you try to be stealthy? Snorgling is a word, by the way. I just made it up. Snorgling (verb) to snorgle. To eat as though one is ravenous in a wild, messy and gauche manner. Oh yeah, she was snorgling. How did she/they arrive on the conclusion that this was acceptable behavior for a grown, married adult in public? This is church. Not picnic church. Oh yeah and even more girls bring drinks. And I thought ‘well maybe she’s pregnant and just not showing yet.’ Or ‘well maybe she’s hypoglycemic’. I tell ya, there are A LOT of hypoglycemic girls in my ward. I must admit here that ONCE in my life did I bring a snack with me and ate it during sacrament. I was like 24 or 25 and I felt like such a fat idiot snorgler that I never did it again. I remember asking Dennis if he wanted any of my animal cookies (that’s right. Frosted animal cookies in a little sandwich baggie.) and he looked at me with tolerance and disgust, declined the offer and looked back to the speaker. Yeah. NEVER happened again. ‘But Nancy! What if I do have kids and have a cheerio or two from my kids container?’ Let me answer that question with this: Are you just sneaking one or two during sacrament while they’re having some too? Or are they nowhere in sight and you’re making a meal while Sister Throckmorton is passing out the 80 bookmarks she just made in her spare time? Hmm?

Moving on. So I finally found Kitt. Only took me forever. Kitt is no one new to me although she is to my friends list on facebook. Kitt was a ‘leader’ of young women when I was one in my ward (neighborhood). She leadered (similar to ‘lead’) me and a bunch of other girls around for a while before her fate said ‘go to Texas’. We were all SO sad when she left. Man! I loved her. She was just so on my wave length. She helped to broaden my horizons. i.e. It was Kitt who had a statue of a gargoyle in her living room that I thought was so cool and liberating! Yes, liberating. I had never seen one in a house before- never known that you could have miniature replicas of them as your very own! Of course I already knew what gargoyles were and already thought they were so sublimely awesome. I also knew that my mother would flip out if she saw one in her house. I stood staring at the gargoyle in Kitt’s house thinking ‘one day’. And tada! Cut to twelve years later and I have a small collection of them. I say small because one does have to be picky about one’s gargoyles. They can get real gay real quick. No chubby baby fairy sitting on top of it, and no glass orb that the gargoyle is gazing into, and certainly no glitter. I am all for glitter. In the right places. And on a gargoyle isn’t one of them. I digress. So anyway, I have a litter of life shaping snippets like this that include Kitt. A few days ago I finally found her on facebook. I gotta tell ya: I found her husband first. And I was all ‘hey! How are you! Long time! Blah, blah, blah. Where’s Kitt.’ I am just so happy I found her. There have only been a few people in my life that I’ve been like ‘holey moley. I like you. Never go anywhere.’ In fact Kitt was one of the first people I was like that with. Moving around my whole childhood, I was used to goodbyes but when she left a melancholy sank on to Nancyville like fog in San Francisco. I got over it, but still. And since then, there have been others. Jen Berghout. Dawna Lisa from Mervyns whose last name escapes me. Sarah Tuiaana. Sherri Jenkins and Carla Larsen. Diana Hodges. Tiffany Huggard. Kim Nix. And my girls at Grassroots. See Elissa?! This is why I don’t like making friends! My world comes crashing down when I or they move! I hate it! Things will never be the same again. We’ll never be as close as we were as when we did live close. That whole saying about ‘better to love and lose than to never love at all’ is crap! Screw that! (But maybe if I did have more friends, when just one moved it wouldn’t hurt as much. . . .I don’t care to make this an option. Too shy and socially inept for that to ever happen. I can only handle so many awkward smiles and fake laughs thrown at me before I tap out Mega Death’s ‘Just kill her’ rhythm with my head on the wall. Although I do know a few rather large asses with a ton of friends.)
And now: apologizes to all those who made it this far in today’s blog. I don’t know what happened. Break down in the system somewhere. May God bless you for your patience and charity.

Nicknames

2009-07-23T15:25:00.000-04:00

Phonetically spelled:

Nancy's:

Nansee-see- The girls who used to call me this were my neighbors in Plain City where I lived for four years as a kid. Now my last name is Couturier and I am, in fact: Nancy C.

Naner Savoy- You'll have to ask brother about this. He's the only one that has ever called me this. I think it has to do with the movie "Green Berets"

Runt- This too was only a brother thing and always chagrined my mother.

Boney Macaroni- Only my dad called me this, again irritating my mother. She thought it was rude as well.

Banana- Only my sisters called me this. Kim switched to 'Nanny' when I moved to Ogden when I was nineteen.

Nanabe- My best friend in high school dubbed me 'Nanabe'.

Blondie- This caught on with a few of my friends in high school because I was such an airhead. Yay me.

Cleo- In reference to Cleopatra. I guess when I was little my very fair skin but almost jet black hair reminded some family friends of Cleopatra. . .yeah, I don't see the connection either but I wasn't about to stop such a complement. I believe I did look more Asian at times because of my eye shape and facial structure as a child. I was even called a 'jap' countless times in elementary. Ah, children.

Nanny- For obvious reasons

Nance- Again, easy to figure out.

Nancy Pants- I don't know how this one was thought up but it is the most recent nickname added to the list. A co-worker started with it and it went from there. I doubt 'Nancy Pants' will ever crop up anywhere else. It will maintain a Grassroots Spa thing.

Dennis':

Bubba- His older sister was two when he was born and couldn't pronounce 'Dennis' so she blurted "bubba" instead.

D- Because it's easy. I even occasionally call him this.

Captain Fantastic- Ok. This one has a fabulous story behind it. There was a dude that came to work at Dennis' real estate office. We'll call him Kris Carrigan (who, by the by is still at century 21 golden spike if you're looking for an awesome agent. Him or Nick Karras. Both fabulous.) Kris was just starting out as an agent and needed a lot of help. Because Dennis and Kris' desks backed each other, it was only natural that Kris just swing around and ask Dennis a question. Dennis being Dennis always obliged. The inquiries and requested help grew and soon Kris and ALL OTHERS IN THE OFFICE went to Dennis for questions. About anything. Cars, real estate, computers programs, phones, ipods, the earths distance to the moon. . .whatever. Soon Kris began calling Dennis "Captain Fantastic" because he always either knew the answer or new where to look to find it. And he always did. He never let anyone down. The name was picked up by all in that office; even by his co-workers children. The end. Isn't that a fabulous little story? Now that we've moved, I've tried to keep it up.

Sidney's:

Sid-Sidona

Sidona Arizona

Sidness

Fart Face- used mostly by her father. I don't know why.

Booby

Boo Bella

Didalee Dee

Baby Boo

Babella Bee

My baby

Maggies:

Maggie Moo

Magnolia

Magnadoodle

Margaret

Mary Margaret

Margeret Mary

Margery

Magshoshoni

Maga-la-me (not maga lame)

Random-y

2009-07-22T22:25:00.000-04:00

Dennis and I have been married for nine years. We have been able to keep the top layer of our wedding cake. Since moving into my parents house, we couldn't bring it with us. So. I took LOTS of pictures before I lovingly chucked it. Vanilla cake with rasberry filling. It was so good.

· I love it when I’m able to figure out what’s bothering my dogs and fix the problem for them. The gratitude and love in their eyes is worth a million bucks.
· Maybelline’s Lash Stiletto and L’Oreal’s Double Extend mascara sucks. Don’t do it. And have you seen the commercial for the new vibrating wand mascara? How stupid do they think the general public is?! I’m ashamed for them.
· Still can’t find a job. There’s seriously a lack of a massage market in Utah County and the few interviews that I’ve been on have been fine but the interviewer is always like “well, we’ve got 25 other applicants so we’ll let you know . . .” One interviewer even told me that because there are so many people looking for jobs, the company can afford to be really picky. The response in my head was “so? You tryin to tell me sum’m?” I didn’t though. Anyway, I’m still waiting to ‘hear back’ from a few different places.
· In the meantime I start school again this coming Monday. To I particularly want to be a Medical Assistant? Not really. But it’s a step in the right direction. It is certainly not my end.
· Being Mormon does not mean you’re a good person. Dennis and I were on BYU campus the other day having a burger at the 9th Street Grill and saw three people with water cups filling them up with soda. That’s theft! And they weren’t just out of regular cups and had to use the water cups. Dennis even saw one lady tell her son to dump the soda out and get water like he was supposed to and then filled her own water cup with soda. Again, I say: THAT’S THEFT! AND ON BYU CAMPUS. That takes some balls. Big ones. Steal one. Big balls of steal. Sure, all there shorts were the right length but they’re friggin thieves.
· Reading a book right now entitled The children of Henry VIII. Very good. Non-fiction. It’s like mini biographies on his kids. It’s really such a good read and I would suggest it to people who have never read a biography taking place in the middle ages. It does have a few big words in it but nothing to deter someone who’s interested. Alison Weir really does make these legends tangible. Love that. Like, did you know that both queen Mary I and her sister queen Elizabeth I were missing most of their teeth? Yep. Elizabeth actually stuffed the gaps with white cloth. Some people weren’t able to understand her speaking because of it. Oh yes. These women got the vapors a lot too and had to take to their beds because the just couldn’t ‘deal with it’. Although they did wear a ton of heavy, uncomfortable clothing. Whatever. Lady Jane Grey is in here too. I would be interested to read her biography if it weren’t so entirely depressing. Hers is the saddest human tale I’ve ever heard. I bawled when the end of her life came.
· LOVED this Harry Potter installment. Can’t wait for the next two. Can’t wait to see Johnny Depp as the mad hadder.
· I’m terribly lonely but don’t want to go out or do anything. (Hence the rambling on here. Dennis isn’t home enough for me to gab to; I miss my girls at work. That was almost the perfect amount of socializing for me. I would have love to have played with them outside of work but then I would have been in even more woe and not wanting to leave them when I moved to the Compound.) My girlfriend-in-law nearly had to drag me out of the house to go to the mall with her in which I am eternally grateful. That is when she generously and evily introduced me to bon bons. Oh my. Apricot: no; coconut: meh; but the orange. . .oh the orange ones. Oh my. They came from See’s Candies, of whom I’ve never really been a fan of (always been partial to Kara’s or V chocolates) but these little orange delights. It’s been a while since I’ve had something that good in my mouth. Sex in sugar form. I’m tellin ya.
· I am delighted to say that Orem Library is awesome and properly ventilated with a divine air conditioner. The basement of said establishment is almost too cold. The house I live in now is a damn hot box so this air conditioned gem of a library is a godsend. If only they had luvsacs there. I feel bad for my girls- they’re not allowed in the library. I call it discrimination.

Fashion

2009-07-14T17:04:00.000-04:00

Lets discuss fashion. That’s right. Some of you may know I have no business speaking of fashion. Those of you who know this are correct. However, ignorance has never stopped me from speaking. :) So here I go. Let’s begin with purses. And pissing a lot of people off. Do not take offence- I mean none. What are with these giant bags with gold metal embellishments? Chains here and there and buttons the size of saucers and patent leather as far as the eye can see. . . What’s with giving yourselves a huge back ache? Being a massage therapist, I have so many women tell me that their shoulders and neck are killing them. PART of that reason is because they waltzed into that spa with a giant purse. It’s bad for your back! ~ Besides why are we revisiting the seventies and eighties? And with that, let’s move on to clothing. For one, why are we revisiting past trends in the first place. Some of it’s been good. The capris are back and I believe here to stay (thank goodness or all the Mormon girls would be back out of style). And I suppose big sunglasses can stay too. Let’s be real for a sec- they cover more of your ocular area and are, therefore, better for you. Although some still do make you look like a damn bug. Stay away from those, I implore you. But if we’re going to revisit past trends, let’s at least pick some fabulous ones. I personally believe one of the best trends was the Greek and Roman dress from b.c. and a.d.. Not a whole lot on you so you’re not weighed down or hot or tripping over anything. Beautiful colors and accessories. The clothing wasn’t so much clothing as it was adornment. Love it.
Secondly: late eighteen hundreds but only in the ball gown fashion. The top half of these gowns were sown to accentuate femininity and they did an exquisite job of it. The ‘bell’ shaped gown part would be tricky. How would you get that in your compact car? Or grocery shop in that? Unless it was just for evening wear. And speaking of evening wear- whatever happened to that? I love that idea. In fact, I have a version of it myself as I know many of you do too. As soon as I get home, I’m stripping off my work clothes and scrambling into something comfy. Usually a pajama or velour warm up suit sort of thing. There isn’t something out there that’s only for at home. And don’t say sweats. Something in between work and going out and playin’. I think Rachel’s sister, Jill, was on to something when she made up ‘apartment pants’ on an episode of FRIENDS.

And third (but not last): steampunk. I've said it before and I'll say it again. If I had the balls and the money, I'd be all over it. Check out abneypark.com for some cool stuff.
As for men, honestly I don’t believe there is much that can be done when it comes to fashion for them. A five minute lesson in the history of clothing shows you how pants and shirts came to be and their evolution. Necessity is the creator of fashion for men. Some things have come and gone for men such as make up and high heels-thank the stars- but for the main part, it’s stayed the same. I bet that if there was another planet that had humans just like us, men’s fashion would be similar.

An Old Friend

2009-07-06T16:30:00.000-04:00

The second job I ever had was working in the accessories/jewelry department at Mervyn's. I started when I was seventeen. It was an ok gig; I worked a lot so I had plenty of cash to blow. And did I ever. I bought this anklet while working at Mervyn's. With my discount, I payed 8.50 for it. (I blew money by whittling it away, not on big ticket items. Dinner here with friends, movie rental there, a treat here at the grocery counter, admission to club Omni *cringe*, weekends in St. George. . .Never anything saved up for and loved like U2 tickets or a pony. )Anyway: so I bought this when I was seventeen or eighteen and haven't taken it off since. For YEARS I thought anklets were sexy. I don't know- I just did. It fell off me once when it broke and I took it off once in a place where I wasn't allowed ANYTHING on my person. That's it. Oh and I think once for a massage. For the last twelve years I've been carrying around this silver ankle bracelet. It's just become a part of me. I don't think about it. It's never in the way but often times played with by Dennis or myself while watching a movie or cuddling. It's played with much the same way some people twirl their hair, it's unconsciously done but pleasure is found in doing so. Go figure. About a week ago I was shuffling about in my hot, pink carpeted & walled room and something flashed in the corner of my eye. I stepped backwards to investigate. Lo and behold: my anklet. I had no idea it'd come off or for how long it had been off and how long Sidney had been sleeping with it. That's right, I found it in a dog bed. So it must have slipped off when I was in her bed with her which I do every night to read to her before sleep. Relax. I'm kidding. And here I arrive at my tiny conundrum. Do I have it fixed so I can put it back on and continue our journey or do I retire it, close this chapter and look back at a random memory at having worn something for over a decade? An insignificant pencil line that draws the face of Nancy's life. I doubt it's that unsimilar to a tatoo. Or a mole. It's just part of the make up that is Nancy. At the same time, if a mole fell off of me, would I exert this much energy in its preponderance and it's essential requirement to be on my body? Do I really want to take the time and energy and money to put things aright? And would I really be putting things aright if I did put it back on? I mean, I am starting a new chapter in my life here in Orem; does this chapter not have an anklet in it? Is it a good way to bookend my time in Northern Utah? Or has my body really been thrown out of homeostasis because of its absence? Don't be silly. Although every now and then it does feel really weird not to hav it there. Or does is just simply have that much sentimental value?
I believe that last question was more of a statement than a question, don't you?

Restoration Hardware

2009-07-01T15:27:00.000-04:00

I haven't had gobs of time on my hands lately (this morning I was picking peas) but I had to share this recent find. http://restorationhardware.com/ They're like Pottery Barn but with some things WAY better. These are a few items I picked out last night for my fantasy home some where in Britain. The Cotswolds perhaps or York.

First up: A rug. The house used in Practical Magic is just about my dream home. I would lay this rug on the wide black floor boards in said home.
Nalini Rug
$999 - $2299
$799 - $1839
New Zealand wool-blend
Hand tufted
Inspired from traditional Persian designs
A warm palette of mocha and taupe enhanced by a luster wash
Exceptionally dense tufting
Imported
Available sizes: 6' x 9', 8' x 10', 9' x 12' and 10' x 14'
All sizes are approximate
Recommended for use with a rug pad (sold separately)
Catalog and Web only Second: This coffee table just rocks. NOBODY on your street, I'm sure, would have it. I love how heavy and rustic it is and that it's not being used for it's intended purposes. I LOVE that. I love bringing in out door stuff. Especially if it's old. And, of course, not dirty. That kind of outside thing can stay outside.

Furniture Factory Cart
$910
An early American 1900s industrial original once used to transport furniture, fabric and supplies across the factory floor
Restored by a Northern California craftsman
North American solid white oak
Tops have been cleaned and oiled but still bear the marks of its history and may have nicks and imperfections
Original cast iron wheels, bolts and plates
End wheels rotate to keep cart stationary
Each cart is a vintage original and no two are exactly alike; variations in distressing, cracks, finish and wheel construction are to be expected
Size is approximate
Quantities are limited
Dimensions (approximate): 28"W x 53"L x 16"H

Third: And this is the small one for almost a grand. The large one is 1600$. ha!

Pillar Candle Rectangular Small Chandelier
$935
Natural-looking faux candles in different shapes and sizes
Cleverly wired from within
Cast iron
Painted bronze finish
Rectangular base is supported by four rods fastened to the frame with filigrees
Includes four 9", four 16" and four 27" arms for adjustable length
Polyresin shades
Hardwire
Dimmer-switch compatible
Uses 18 15W max. candelabra bulbs (included)
Dimensions: 39"W x 14"D x 26"H; 50 lbs.
Catalog and Web only

Before we get to the fourth and final, I'd like to preempt it's showcase with a statement: I do not condone killing animals for fashion. In any way. I don't care how quality your UGGs are. It's wrong. Besides that, leather smells. Now, now, I know we all walk past Wilson's Leather and take a deep breath, BUT! after any length of time smelling leather, it gets gross. I didn't know this until I moved into my parents house and was lounging in my fathers leather lazy boy. ew. Not only that, but it sticks to you and is cold.

Fourth:

Kensington Leather Grand Sofa
$4545
A reproduction of the classic Chesterfield sofa by Timothy Oulton
Evokes the grand gentlemen's club tradition with deep hand-tufting and rolled arms
Detailed with 1,500 hand-hammered brass studs and 85 buttons
Upholstered in supple, distressed vintage cigar leather
Hand-finished by skilled craftsmen in a seven-step process
Develops a burnished patina over time
Kiln-dried hardwood frame
Hand-tied springs
Down-blend cushions
Dimensions: 118"W x 44"D x 31"H
Catalog and Web only

This sofa is 10 feet long, y'all. 10 feet! Ten. Dix. Zehn. Tien. Dieci.

Rules

2009-06-25T12:13:00.000-04:00

This is just a list of rules I saw somewhere once taped to a fridge. :)

1. 10 minute showers
2.One towel to use all week
3.No taking clothes to the cleaners. Iron it yourself.
4.Water: use what you need, need what you use.
5.Unplug electric things when not in use i.e., t.v, dryer, washer
6.Our home is a holy place. We strive to make it so: no R rated music or movies.
7.Shared Jobs: cooking, cleaning, one wash day a week (laundry)
8.Time outs for tempers

Just a short ramble.

2009-06-18T20:32:00.000-04:00

Seems like it's been a while since I posted anything with real meat to it; so I'll try now whilst avoiding the fam. Dennis and I did move this past weekend. In the rain. With an open trailer. And not enough tie downs. It's ok though. Only our love seat and dresser were ruined. Well, not ruined, technically. You can still use them for their intended purposes. They're just shredded to hell. With two of our loads, we did have help from five strangers. The Elders quorum from my mothers ward were called from my mother to help. Dennis and I do appreciate the help. Greatly. I was just so impressed that strangers showed up to help. There was nothing in it for them and they helped. Pretty cool. We have now spent two? nights here. In the heat. Our room is in the attic of the house. This is NOT the kind of cool attic I dig. This is sheet rocked and carpeted and all that, it's just upstairs and has a sloped roof. Enough so that Dennis and I hit our heads if we're not careful when we get in and out of bed. :) It does have a door though and we're grateful for that. It gets used. Our girls are still weirded out. They're mopey and not eating much. Every time they go outside with me, they go to the car like they do when we leave after a visit to grandma's house. Don't know what to do about that. They're constantly panting. They're not used to such a hot house. We generally keep our house anywhere from 68 to 71 degrees. Not here. We live with old people now. They like to live in a hot house. Like green house-hot.

My sister Kimberly was here for a week and spent a few days with Dennis and I while we were moving. Not really quality time but still a blessing to have her near again. And this time with a little squish. Amelia Faye is perfect. Everything a baby should be. I could be biased.

My sister, Sherie, and her kids were here too and are delightfull to visit with as well. All three of them are adorable. I must say, however, I am a bit creeped out by their sleeping habits. Dude. They sleep with their eyes open. EYES OPEN, y'all. Not just slightly. Open. While Joel was asleep, I pulled one of his eyelids open even further and he was lookin at me! That pupil was focused! And really small, actually. I sat and stared at 'it' long enough that his eye watered and his eyeball actually rolled into his head an unnaturally long way up. eeeuuch!

This Old Lady I Know. . .

2009-06-07T21:26:00.000-04:00

Has had this pic tapped to her cupboard for the last fifteen years and I've always felt bouyed lookin at it. Nuthin spectacular, just thought I'd share.

I Meant To Say Thank You

2009-06-04T15:43:00.000-04:00

Dear Tall Dude Who Drives a Dodge Diesel Truck,

Really, I meant to say thank you. My brain was in lock down and I was unable to access my lips for about fifteen minutes after that interlude. So I'll say thank you now. Thank you for scaring off that giant beast of a dog. I wasn't even aware that we were being followed until Maggie suddenly looked behind us and began slowing her pace. That was when I first saw the menace. Pretty sure it was a boxer. I first thought it was a pit bull but the pointed years made me think boxer. Although I don't know of any boxers that have those black and grey stripping like that one did. Maybe it was a mix. I heard in my head Cesar Milan say "just stay calm and keep moving." And that's what I did. Thankfully I got Maggie walking again. But only five yards later Maggie jerked around again-it was closer- and this time Sidney followed suit and came to stand next to Maggie on the wrong side of the bike. You see Tall Dude Who Drives a Dodge Diesel Truck, I have both dogs on leashes and I hang them on the handle bars of my bike; one on each side. So when Sidney crossed my bike, she, of course, got her leash tangled in Maggie's. The giant grey and black dog was trotting very determinedly through the gap separating us and it. While trying to get the girls untangled (I even said 'now' to Maggie. Like she'd know what that meant.), stay on my bike, remain calm and deflect an intruder, something else caught my eye. It was you. Walking from your truck, door still open and sitting idling at the stop sign, you were twenty feet from me but the dog ten. It was enough. I didn't know what you were saying because I had my ipod in listening to a church talk. (That's right. While all this is happening I've got Elder Holland still speaking ever so calmly-and loudly-into both my ears.) All I knew is that you were clapping your hands and walking towards us and an apostle of the Lord was telling me to 'cast not away your courage'. Seriously. The stranger dog turned in his trot, towards you. It was then that I thought to call out to you, " is that your dog? He really scared me!" But in the same instant, I thought 'no that's dumb and don't be rude.' The dog didn't arrive at your feet though. He started towards you but then made a crescent shape in his pattern, giving plenty of space between you and him. And away from us. Then I thought, 'huh, maybe its not his dog and he's just trying to shoo that dog away from us. I'll wait here till dude comes back so I can say thank you.' But then I heard a voice tell me 'he's trying to put distance between you and that other dog. Why don't you help him out and keep moving.' So I did. I wanted to return but my legs were obeying something else. My brain became only a passenger on the bike ride. I rode with my mouth open for quite a while, still reeling from 'what could have been.' My sister-in-law has a boxer. It's much stronger than Dennis. I would have been at that animal's mercy. I felt like absolute crap that I didn't say thank you. That I couldn't. And that perhaps you were upset that you hadn't even received a thank you from the stranger you just helped. Helped? I mean rescued! I know I get mad if I let someone into my lane and they don't wave a thank you. Or the pedestrian who doesn't wave thank you when I let them pass. Let alone if I rescue someone from a certain death. Please do not be upset. I was just not myself. Please accept my gratitude now. Thank you so much for your time and effort. You are an angel.

Sincerely,

The Chick On the Bike With the Two Dogs

Wanna Trade Faces?

2009-06-01T13:54:00.000-04:00

Sandra Bullock Even when she looks like crap and acting like a clown she still looks fab.

Nicole Kidman Same thing. She is a timeless beauty. Doesn't matter what the trends are, she's still beautiful. I love that she takes such good care of her skin; that she stands apart from all the 'bathing beauties' and will remain the owner of porcelain skin well into her advanced years.

Lesly Anne Down I grew up watching this Mini Series called The North and the South and wanting some day to look just like "Madeline".

Lena Heady I think she is stunning. Not only would I enjoy her face for a day but I wouldn't mind taking on a few of her roles either. . .The Brothers Grimm, Merlin, 300. . .

Audrey Hepburn Who wouldn't want her face? Beautiful. Innocent. Unassuming.

Kelly LeBrock Every teenage boys fantasy in the 80's. She wasn't able to maintain this face, however. Sadly, she messed it up with too many plastic surgeries. She looks a little manish now so I must add a conditional addendum to this and say I'd only want her face from the 80's. Sorry, Kel. Even with the dead poodle on her head and Grammie's curtains draped around her, she's still a knock out. That's lucky.

Aishwarya Rai I'm sure she's stopped traffic. I'd never want to stand too close to her- wouldn't feel right. It'd be like Quasy Moto standing next to her. In fact, that gives me an idea. Hollywood should do another Hunchback of Notre Dame and cast Miss Rai as Esmerelda. I don't think they've done this movie since the 30's if you don't count Disney's cartoon (which, by the way, is nothing like the book). And it's such a compelling, original story. Lots of curiosity and heartbreak.

Lest I be struck by lightening, plagued with leprosy, smitten with scales, or burned by fire or road rash, I must say I am grateful for the face (& body) I do have. It's served me wonderfully these last 29 years and I'd be a horrible ingrate if I didn't express my appreciation for it. I just thought this would be a fun blog. And it was. I'm curious to know who you'd wanna switch faces with. . .

Obscure Must See Movies

2009-05-28T15:00:00.000-04:00

The Trouble With Angels: Haley Mills! She’s a troublesome teenager who’s sent to Catholic School in an effort to curb her tedious tendencies. It doesn’t work out so well for the nuns. Good movie to watch while you’re stuck on the couch with a stomach bug.

High Spirits: Daryl Hannah, Steve Guttenberg. He’s alive, she’s not. They’re in love. I put this movie on while I’m cleaning house. It’s funny and trivial; the holes in the plot are big enough to drive a train through but enjoyable. I think more because it’s set in a castle and the idea of ghosts.

The Great Race: Natalie Wood, Tony Curtis, Jack Lemon. I grew up watching this movie and still quote it. A race from NY to Paris in the early 20th century is the premise of this movie.

The Phantom of the Opera: This is a version of TPOTO. The basic plot lines stay the same but they create a past about the phantom and give him a name. I believe this 1990 T.V. movie does a better job portraying Raoul and Christines romance than the newer one with Emmy Rossum does. They change Raoul’s name to Philip too. The story is just really romantic. I feel almost seduced when watching this movie; much like watching Twilight.

Ivanhoe: Anthony Andrews; made in1982. Adapted from the book, it’s just a good story. Original. I believe that’s hard to find nowadays. Very well done. Very heart wrenching. Set around the time that the Normans (northern French men) conquered England and repressed the Saxons (native Englishmen) in a big way. And somewhere in there love finds its way onto the screen.

The Happiest Millionare: Actually a Disney musical with Lesley Ann Warren. High society people back east in the beginning of the 20th century with a daughter who falls in love with another high society guy but different societies. The two societies clash and puts a crunch on the couples romance. This movie is interspersed with song and dance, an Irish man who talks into the camera and crocodiles. That’s right. Another good one for a sick or house cleaning day.

Slipper and the Rose: A musical which I have no idea who put out. It stars Richard Chamberlin as the prince and Gemma Craven as Cinderella. A little bit of humor, a little bit of romance an a lot of very pretty, very catchy music.

Where the Heart Is: The 1992 version. Not that retarded movie with Natalie Portman. This one is about three siblings who need an income so they rent out rooms in the house they share with each other while they try to make their own niche in the world. One of the siblings, Chloe, is an artist. It’s a kind of art I’ve never seen before and I absolutely love it. I will be doing a blog solely on the art from this movie. It’s gorgeous and weird and completely original and will give you a whole new look on art.

Dangerous Beauty: Beautifully orchestrated. Enchanting location and setting. Charming yet oppressive ideas of life and the role of women. I issue a warning with this one. It is VERY rated R. It’s about courtesans in Venice during the Renaissance. So, you can imagine why it’s rated R. The story is good and is actually a girl power story.

American Dreamer: JoBeth Williams and Tom Conti. I love this movie! It’s about an American chick who loves Paris and loves to read and write. Through a contest she wins a trip to Paris. Her husband is a tool and doesn’t go with her. While there alone, she suffers a head trauma, hooks up with an English author and from there hilarity and adventure ensues. This movie is good for any time; not just sick days.

City Slickers II The Legend of Curly’s Gold: I do only have this on when I’m cleaning. I love Billy Crystal. I think he’s hysterical. I wish he’d do more movies. This movie is about three guys who go on a treasure hunt for gold ‘out west’ that was hidden in the 1800’s. This movie is retarded in the very best way possible. A lot like High Spirits. Brainless and funny. Not slapstick or anything. The characters’ idiosyncratic antics are hilarious. It’s their insane personalities that make this film worth watching over and over.

I'd love to add to my list if you have any must see's.

AH-HAAA!

2009-05-28T13:29:00.000-04:00

I've found it! I've finally found a background I really like. And it comes from a website that has a TON of other backgrounds I absolutely love too. So now I have the opposite problem- there are so many fabulous backgrounds, I'm having a hard time choosing which one to use. So, we'll stick with this red one for a few and change it up later. The site is called: http://paisleycatscrapsfreebloglayouts.blogspot.com/
I call dibs on all the pretty ones. :)

Wanna Know Sum'm Weird?

2009-05-26T22:41:00.000-04:00

I hate the color purple. That's right. And yet. Here this blog sits all purpled up. I'll tell you with much shame how it came to be such an irritating color. The blog, that is. Everybody has a blog background from cutest blog on the block. Including me. The one I had I absolutely adore. Fit me just right. But because of the insanity tumbling around in my head like dirty gym shoes in a dryer, I began to have an itch between my shoulder blades that I had a background from where everybody else does too. Doesn't matter that I've never seen mine on anybody else's. I'm just a lunatic this way. So, I've spent HOURS searching blog sites that have free blog backgrounds and tried several on. This is the only one that I found that I'm at least partially in love with. That's another fruiting thing about Miss Nancy. She only buys stuff if she absolutely must have it. That's why my wardrobe is so small. I have to fall in love with it. I must yearn, I must lust after it. I must be able to envision a better life with it. (This is true when it comes to AVEDA's Air Control Hair Spray. I wake up in a better mood because it sits in the cupboard waiting for me to handle it.) I haven't so far with a blog background so this one will have to do for now. But I did see a bunch that were cute. Here are the addresses of said cute backgrounds:

http://cristiscreations.blogspot.com/

http://summertimedesigns.blogspot.com/2009/04/apples-almonds-kit.html

http://myonecuteblog.com/2009/04/vintage-oreos.html

http://aquapoppydesigns2.blogspot.com/

I've gone shopping.

2009-05-17T20:42:00.000-04:00

Window shopping that is. My auntie told me about this website: pyramidcollection.com. It's got some insane things and some freakin awesome things. I've listed a few of the freakin awesome things here. Thanks Linda for the great find!
First up: witchy shoes. That's what they call em! I'm sure they look even better on the feet. I love the idea of a conservative, all black outfit with a splash of sass with these. I don't have a top for this but wanted it on the list. Very bohemian and I love it. Some sort of flat shoes, big earrings and long dark hair with loose curls. And a tan.

Again, bohemian. Brown, flat strappy sandals? Pretty flip flops? I don't know. You tell me. Long loose curls again. Sitting on ancient stones in Greece enjoying a local orange. That's what should be done in this dress. I am willing.

These aren't princess shoes. These are dame shoes. They belong to a dark, beautiful, mysterious woman with many lovers and haters. That sounds better than an overly sheltered and staged princess. Staged? you ask? Yes. Too much of a princess' life is planned for her. Not down with that. These slippers belong to a woman who controls her own schedule; let alone her destiny. Thats a lot to see in shoes, I know. But.

I just like it. I think I'd put leather(faux) accessories and jewelry and jeans tucked into some sexy boots.

These are not the sexy boots I'm talking about for the jacket above, although I think they are sexy. I have no idea what would go with these. And I wouldn't do the purple ribbon. Purple bugs me; is that weird?

Love this top. Doesn't look terribly comfortable but very pretty. All too often I choose comfort over style but I'd do this.

One Down: Angels & Demons

2009-05-16T22:47:00.000-04:00

Delightful. I did read the book a few years ago so not everything is fresh but what I do remember, the movie did stay pretty close with the book. Of course the book is still better. There is no romance between the two characters like there was in the book but it didn't seem like it needed it; just like the Davinci Code. This did all take place in Italy so the scenery was spectacular. If you like painting, architecture, and sculpture you'll love this. The ending was a little different but the bad guy is still the bad guy. The acting was great too-love Tom Hanks. There's no movie I've seen him in that I didn't think he was believable. I just started to read another book of Dan Brown's: Digital Fortress. It isn't something that I'd usually pick up but the person who recommended it to me says its fab and she's been right before, so, thanks Katherine. I'm only 50 pages in or so and do love it. I'm intrigued; I have no idea where this plot is going and I am dying to find out.

Nancy's Summer Movie Line Up

2009-05-13T23:01:00.000-04:00

Star Trek: They made it look sexy. I can get on board with that.

Angels & Demons: I can only hope it's as good as the book. If you like history and Italy, read this book. So much history but not a thesis. Perfect.

Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian: I spent some time in some of the Smithsonian museums, it could be cool. And it looks cute. I'll see it in the dollar theatre in Provo. There's one good thing about livin in Orem. See? Look at me bein' positive about Orem. . .hork. . .

Easy Virtue: Has many fabulous elements: England, romance, comedy, adventure, comedic rebellion.

Land of the Lost: Will Farrell, hello? Of course. But probably at the dollar theatre too.

My Life in Ruins: Nia Vardolos. Love her. I used to be able to quote My Big Fat Greek Wedding. She's just funny and Greece is beautiful. Looks light hearted and pretty.

The Proposal: I'm a fan of Sandra Bullock. She's one of the few faces that if I could have theirs, she'd be on the list. And the personality to boot.

Cheri: Kathy Bates is a favorite and I love Michelle Pfiefer. It takes place in France in the 19th century and is about love and men that need saving. Looks pretty fab.

Public Enemies: Two words: Johnny. Depp.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince: This one looks like it will be even darker than Order of the Phoenix. Very excited.

The Ugly Truth: HUGE Gerard Butler fan. I can stomach Kathrine Heigle for this performance. The story does sound good too.

Funny People: This seems to be a dramedy. I saw Adam Sandler in Rain on Me (or something like that) and was INCREDIBLY impressed with his ability to play not only a serious role but such a heavily depressing one as well. And since Dennis and I are such fans of stand up comedy, that piques our interest too.

Adam: Kinda on the fence about this one. It's a love story about a guy and girl. The guy has Asperger's Syndrome (when I first heard this, I thought they were saying ass burger syndrome:)). They fall in love but then they have some heart wrenching issues. Just don't know if I'm up for some emotional turmoil.

Julie & Julia: Huge Meryl Streep fan. One of my favorites. Amy Adams is up there too. I couldn't care less about Julia Child or food. Just really take pleasure in watching Meryl perform. I'll see anything with her in it.

There are a few you may notice that are supposed to be huge box office hits that are not on the list. There is a very good reason.

I'll begin with Transformers. Sorry Steve and Shelley, this movie was gay and retarded. The part that brought my macaroni and cheese back up into my mouth was when Bumble Bee was being 'hurt' by the scientist. Are you effing kidding me?! I'm not convinced that the machine was suffering physical pain. Guess I do have a bad imagination.

GI Joe: I wish it were on the list. Could have been cool. Hollywood decided to rape it with a bad plot instead.

Inglourious Bastards: Kill Bill 2 is not enough to save Quentin Tarantino from hell. He is SO going. I'm disappointed that Brad Pitt made such a movie. He truly is an amazing actor. And not because I think he's hot. I don't- he only looked pretty good in A River Runs Through It. No. I saw him in 12 Monkeys and was awestruck with how well he portrayed a crazy person.

My Sister's Keeper: Sounds WAY too depressing and awful. I can think of better things to slit my wrists about. If I want to go that route, I'll do it about animal torture or the devastations in Sierra Leon. NOT about a fictional tale of a human born solely for spare parts for her sister.

X-Men: They've gone too far. Hollywood seems to be rolling down the B-movie hill with the X-Men movies and have stopped at the bottom with a C movie. For Hugh Jackman's sake, I hope not. . . .fan of his too. . .

Ghost of Girlfriends Past: Mr. McConaughey has done too many films like this. They're beginning to all meld into one mouth breathing, flip flop wearing, long haired player who decides to 'let his heart decide'. You know what I'm saying don't you? You just listed a bunch of his movies where that description applies, huh? I know. Too bad.

Management: Jen Aniston is the same person in all her movies. Just like Julia Roberts and Tom Cruise.

Terminator Salvation: I don't believe I need to state a reason here.

Things to be found in an attic.

2009-05-07T20:30:00.000-04:00

Ok. So. I've mentioned before my love for attics. Part of it is because it's old stuff. Part is because I love rummaging through things (although this is not specific to just attics. Just ask my sister. I got the rummage bug as a child because she ALWAYS had the coolest stuff. I still do this to VERY close friends. And once at Lagoon in Pioneer Village. I didn't even set off any alarms! It's a very weird personality trait, I know. I do it out of curiosity. What cool stuff might you have? Anything thought provoking or inspiring? Seriously, not looking for your drama, just nuances of silent roles being played out in dark corners.) And of course, it's a little bit creepy. This first pic is from the Haunted Mansion in Disney Land Florida and, therefore, is a perfect rendition of an attic worth sneezing in. Or holding a seance for that matter.

I believe this one captures the essence of said attic. Insufficient light, cobwebs, pretty, once important and now forsaken treasures. This is the minute hand of a clock in a Cathedral in Stockholm! How freakin awesome is this?! The attic space where Quasimoto lives in Hunchback of Notre Damn is enchanting. Well worth the read. Not only for a descriptive setting but also one of the most tragic stories I've ever heard. And not for reasons Disney would have you think.

This is an attic space available to rent as a vacay flat in Bruges! (Belgium) The owner, Olivier, speaks English, French, German, Dutch and Spanish. How amazing is that?! This ancient attic is yours for about 100 euros a night. Yes, please! Way better than the Ritz.

Again, the lighting in this one captures a certain silence descended upon these castaways. On a clear night the moon illuminates their sudden movements from a single mouse. A doll sheds dry tears as her dainty lace hem is eaten by a moth she cannot bat away.

This one's cute but looks a little like it's a display at Quilted Bear rather than an attic caught in the middle of dust collection.

Thoughts?

Post Script

2009-05-07T20:24:00.000-04:00

Please note I don't mean to poo poo for sale by owners. Also, things do go terribly awry even when real estate agents are involved. Whose to say the contract doesn't fail with our house; but please, please, for sanity sake, pray that doesn't happen. :)

2009-05-07T16:48:00.000-04:00

So. The 411 on my and Dennis' home: We listed it on Monday, Tuesday we had four showings and an offer. Wednesday morning we countered and they accepted. Why'd it go so well? I'll tell you. First of all you start with a very clean home and a Realtor. You list it on your own, you're asking for trouble. Seriously. 85% of ALL real estate litigation is with for sale by owners. There are professionals to sell houses for a reason. CAN you sell your house yourself? Sure. And it can go well too. You're just taking a risk. And you WILL NOT do as well as a Realtor. How could you? You don't have the experience OR the connections. So anyway. I'll step down from my soap box now. :)
Dennis and I are now headed to Orem. I have a tickle of a memory that I promised myself I'd never live there again. Alas, here we go. Utah Valley University has a program that Dennis is itching to attend. We'll be there long enough for him to get his degree and then we will be moving out of state. April of 2008 we absolutely fell in love with Virginia. And because my left arm (that goes my Kimberly) already lives there, voila! We have an insatiable urge to live there. That's the plan anyway. Hopefully it'll work that way. Don't know when we'll actually be moved to Orem but it'll be very soon. I'm guessing before the end of May.
We're not excited about the moving to Orem part and we'll miss some very dear, very close friends. We do believe, however that this is SO what we are supposed to be doing and are very excited for the future.

"Swedish Paperdoll Man Drowns in Rock Stars House"

2009-05-06T14:25:00.001-04:00

I don’t remember the beginning of the dream; really just bits and pieces. But bits and pieces that were seductive in their outline and creepy in the notion. I was apparently single again. I met a dude at a mall. He was shorter than I, (please. that is so not going to happen), long dark curly red-brown hair and dressed like a punk or some alternative ‘I think I’m a rock star’ sort of way. SO NOT my type. Strangely attracted to this guy, I couldn’t leave him alone. There was nothing extraordinary about it him, I just couldn’t leave him. And he seemed fine with it. I followed him everywhere until one day I really just wanted my independence and was somehow able to disconnect myself from him. He said he was really busy anyway so it’d be fine. He was always really busy. So I return later to find Elissa, a friend I work with, at his house. I asked her what she was doing there and she said that she and this guy were an item. I told her that I thought he and I were a thing and she was like ‘I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. I think he has other plans for you.’ And I was all ‘excuse me?’ This is when she explained to me that he had created me and Elissa. That we were genetically altered from a normal human. I didn’t believe it. I told her that this was impossible because I only just met the guy! I’ve had a whole twenty something years of memories without him in them. But as I said this I remembered while I was apart from him, I had discovered I could move exceptionally fast. Like the speed of light. I used it on one of the neighbor kids at a beach party because he was being such a troll. I picked him up and moved him yards away from the party in a blink. It did scare the nastiness right out of him. I remembered how convenient it was to be able to move so quickly. It felt effortless and natural. So I asked Elissa to tell me what she did know about this guy and what he was doing. I also told her that I was SO not into sharing men. And that’s when she said she believed he had a ‘mate’ for me too. He just didn’t have him created yet. She took me over to a table in the middle of the living room of his very messy house and showed me a big bucket of water. It was actually one of the buckets that we use at work for foot soaks. Anyway, it was full of water and had paper dolls draped over the sides of the bucket with the doll part in the water. One doll was me. One was Elissa and one was ‘the dude’. There was another one there that had not been fully immersed into the water. It was a tall, blond, ripped but bulky man. Like he’s Swedish or something. Again, I say: I don’t think so. Not my type either. Not there is anything wrong with these type of men, they’re just not for me. But at least the Swedish dude is closer than the super skinny short ‘rock star’. Elissa put this paper doll in the water and I freaked. Apparently putting the paper dolls in the water is what gives them life. Elissa just took the initiative and started Swedish paper doll’s life. I was only freaked out that she would make ‘rock star’ pissed off. It didn’t occur to me that she could have just screwed up the ‘life’ process. Like what if Swedish dude didn’t have a brain installed yet or something. No, I was only afraid that we’d be in trouble now. Elissa and I continued to chat while we watched the paper doll move around on the white background of the paper he was drawn on. We knew that ‘rock star’ was up to something but we didn’t know what. And was it for good or bad, we weren’t sure. We weren’t believing our eyes either that he had created us even with what seemed to be concrete proof that he did sitting right in front of us. We also knew that we needed him back home soon because the pull to be with him was getting stronger and causing anxiety. Like there was a magnetic, physical pull to be in close proximity to him. He wasn’t a jerk or anything either but Liss and I both knew that he was the alpha dog. Although it seemed to matter a little less to Elissa. Like she wasn’t afraid to piss him off or like she knew she wouldn’t get in trouble because they were ‘together’.

How’s that? Weird? Creepy? It’s a fantastic start to a sci-fi novel. Alas, I don’t have the time or enrgy. I have way too many other projects to take on something like this. And frankly, I don’t want to. I just thought I’d like to tell you, dear internet readers. And archive this story forever in my life. Maybe I’ll come back to it. Or YOU take off with it!

A New Fascination

2009-04-25T23:53:00.001-04:00

I don't know what sparked this interest but here it is. Anything vintage carnival, sideshow, gypsy, fortunetelling-ish. Whether it's posters, clothing or the music (hence some of the music played on this blog). It's a bit frightful and ugly in a very colorful chaotic way. It (and I'm not sure what 'it' is) embraces oddities and unfamiliarity. I think that's what I like about it. It's uncomfortable in the most alluring way. It intrigues and mystifies. At least me anyway. I don't know anyone who can swallow a sword or eat fire and lives a nomadic life. I do know a few bearded ladies though. When I was a child living in Germany, my family travel quite a bit. It wasn't a rare occasion when I would feel totally uncomfortable in a setting, whatever it may be- castle, some old German lady's home, a very old and dark inn with ponies to ride, a hidden community garden, a crumpled down chapel whose foundation barely stood in the middle of a beautiful German cemetery. All these things were awkward or disturbing only because they were such a departure from my norm- a very American kid living in American housing. This feeling of strange surroundings and notions rarely every comes to me any more. With this tiny discovery of vintage creepiness flirts with the feelings I remember as a child of strange curiosities. The visuals and music of this genre invoke these same feeling from childhood. Although now I love the feeling. It's like a drug. Something so foreign to my psyche (especially in a visual way) is a tiny but palpable adventure. And I love it. Hope you do too. Let me know if you know of any other stuff like this: websites, music, movies. . . I'm aware of Big Fish and Something Wicked This Way Comes, what else?
P.S. And don't even get me started on the notion of attics. Old muggy smells, dust, little light, ancient treasures, momentos of life changing events, heavy with silence with each peace of tulle and leather waiting to recount their lives to you. Any book that has an attic scene is fabulous book. Two of those books are Silent in the Sanctuary and Across a Starlit Sea.

Simon Marsden

2009-04-25T18:08:00.000-04:00

This man is my favorite photographer (besides you Mrs. Cunningham) and has one of my top five dream jobs. Who would pass up the job of jet setting around the world snapping shots of curiosities and history?

This is one of my favorites. A perfect blend of creepy and pretty. Enchanting and unsettling. Perfect. His website is simonmarsden.co.uk

I got an example

2009-01-15T19:17:00.000-05:00

So we’ve all heard that we shouldn’t carry grudges against people because it does nothing but bad for us AND usually the other person has gone on with their life and have no recollection of their wrong towards you. I learned this for myself the other day. I was on the other side of this situation. I was the one who had ‘injured’ someone and they had let it fester and rot inside them and only now have I been made aware of it. Here’s the story:

A few months ago my boss was super busy and needed assistance getting things done. She asked for my help. She asked if I would do the ‘hands on’ part of two interviews. I reluctantly said yes. And I MEAN reluctantly. I trusted my judgment but would my boss have judged the same way I did? This made me nervous. The first one was, by several counts, seriously lacking. Based on the massage this interviewee gave, I was not enraptured, and I told my boss so. A few days later the second interviewee came and did the hands on portion of the interview with me. I wanted to weep. It was the best massage I had received in a very long time. I told my boss if she didn’t hire this girl, she was crazy! Little did we know that we weren’t done with the first interviewee.

A few weeks later, the first interviewee (we’ll call her Fran) called into the spa and wanted to speak with my boss (we’ll call her Merry.) Fran wanted to know why she hadn’t heard back from Merry. Fran thought the speaking interview went perfectly with Merry. Merry did not feel the same way. Fran left several messages with Merry and when she hadn’t heard from her, Fran came into the Spa. She spoke with the receptionist, Cathy, who is fairly new and wasn’t working at the spa at the time of Fran’s interviews. Fran very passionately told Cathy that it was my fault she hadn’t gotten the job. That I, Nancy, didn’t like Fran and so therefore ‘sabotaged’ Fran, making Merry not want to hire her. Fran very much wanted to massage Merry herself so Merry could see just how fabulous Fran really was. The idea that Fran wasn’t hired based on her massage was inconceivable to her. Impossible. So the only explanation could be that in the two minutes I spoke with Fran before and after the massage, I must have deduced that I didn’t like her and was going to see that Fran not get a job at this spa. Actually, I can see her side of the story. I was once in her shoes myself. I demanded that I get to do another massage on someone else at a place I interviewed at and was told a second time that I just didn’t have the experience and skill to be hired there yet. This floored me because I had done so well in all of my school hours. Stunned, broadsided, insulted. I even had regulars, for crying out loud! But it was true- I wasn’t good enough for them yet. It was only by Merry’s grace that I got the job I’m at now.

So my point is this: these hands on interviews occurred in September 2008. It is now January 2009 and Fran has been molting this whole time. And the person she’s been seething about had no idea until a week ago. It’s true. Grudges are only cankers to the bearers. It does nothing to the injurer. I’m not saying that I agree with Fran, I don’t. I didn’t injure her. But she believes I did and has put forth so much effort into something that only exists in her head!!

I love that I was given this experience because there are several cases that I could name off the top of my head that I believe I was unfairly treated. I’ve been holding a grudge on a cop since 2006! Nancy! Let it go already!

My other point is Fran is wrong. So wrong. How often are we offended when we perceive something incorrectly? Dennis called me fat and lazy the other day and it freaking ruined my day. He finally asked what my problem was and I told him I didn’t think I’d ever be married to a person who spoke so cruelly to me. Then he called me a retard and told me he wasn’t talking to me but to our fat, lazy dog. Do you see what I mean?

Here we go

2008-12-29T21:53:00.000-05:00

1. Which is the one television character you adore. Chandler Bing

2. What do you do when you are feeling very sad or depressed? Cry excessively. Curl up in a ball and go to sleep. Whine.

3. If given a complete freedom to start afresh, what profession would you choose and why? Something in the medical field because I know I already love the subject and because it would support me far better than trying to make it as a writer.

4. What is your idea of fun? If given a choice to skip work for a day, how would you spend the entire day? Jet skiing, playing with my girls, eating expensive pastries, European antiquing, massages, hair and makeup done and all with the guilt that I should be at work, pulling my weight.

5. What is the craziest thing you have ever done.
Streaked. . . .I wasn’t alone either. I do have names. . .

6. Name one person you love the most and one person you hate the most. Besides family & friends? For either? I would have to say. . .I’d have to say it’d be a toss up between Dennis’ broker, and Santa. And I hate Hitler the most. And then Miss. Devill off of 101 Dalmations.

7. Which is the funniest prank ever played on you or you played on someone else? Some would say it was funny when my brother and sister convinced me that it was absolutely imperative that I get in the dumpster to retrieve something. And it had to be me because I was the smallest and would fit the best in the GIANT UTILITY DUMPSTER. I ended up getting bird poo ALL OVER myself. They thought it was funny.

8. If given the choice, which animal would you want to be? Why? The American Bald Eagle. Because it can fly AND it’s protected.

9. Who was your first crush? Did you ever tell him/her about your feelings? Jason Grahm. Yes. All the time.

10. Ninjas or Pirates? Um, Pirates! Duh!

11. Ninjas vrs Pirates. Discuss. Pirates 100. Ninjas 2. Pirates have to rules.

12. Autobots or Decepticons? Hugga Bunch

13. Are you a collector of anything? Gargoyles. Boxes. Not card board.

14. What is usually you first thought when you wake up? NOOOOOOO!

15. What do you usually think about right before falling asleep? Everything

16. Do you believe in extraterrestrials or life on other planets? Nope. I think the universe IS big enough that we could never run into anybody else.

17. Do you believe in ghosts? I don’t think so. I believe family members visit and I think there are evil spirits. But I’m pretty sure that people just don’t ‘get stuck’ in-between this one and the next. I don’t THINK people haunt places because of unfinished business. Fun idea though, good stories.

18. Ever been addicted to a video/computer game? Which one? Erm, yes. *sigh* Age of Empires

19. Have any bad habits? Which ones drive you crazy? Chewing on my lips and peeling the skin off of them with my teeth. I look like a jack ass doing it and usually make my lips bleed.

20. If you HAD to change your name, what would you change it to? Ohh, this one could take a while! Off the top of my head: Lisette, I think I could pass as a Rachael or Rebecca. I don’t know! Something weird though for sure. Something unusual, uncommon. You tell me?

I choose Joe T., Sarah T., and Elissa C.

Bath Time

2008-12-26T22:53:00.000-05:00

But she's only got 'second day' hair so why bother, right?

An Ode To Christmas & One Of My Favorite Artists

2008-12-20T14:32:00.001-05:00

She's Two And A Half And Shouldn't Have A Binky Anymore But I Just Don't Have The Heart To Take It From Her Quite Yet

2008-12-16T21:48:00.000-05:00

Nerver fear, I did not go out and buy this for her. My sister in law left it behind on accident one day. Too bad. It's my baby's now.

Sometimes Dreams Really Do Mean Something

2008-12-16T21:29:00.000-05:00

This is a teeny bit personal but I’ll share. Some things may seem a little . . .off center but just have an open mind.

I had a dream the other night I just really don’t want to forget. It and its meaning came at a very pivotal point which I’ll relate at the end of the dream.

Dennis & I were home one evening and I was looking out our bedroom window. In this dream our deck was covered with a roof. The beams, however, were still visible. What would be the “attic”, the beams were exposed. There was a ceiling to the covered deck though so if I wanted, I could store stuff up there. I didn’t because of said walls of the “attic” missing. So there I was one night looking out over our back yard when a movement caught my eye in the “attic”. To my delight, there were two birds in a nest they must have recently made rummaging around in it. Wings flapped and clawed feet stamped for a comfortable spot. They were awfully large. Larger than seagulls. As I watched with delight that such exotic and unusual birds would choose me and my home as their refuge, something else snatched me out of my reverie. Another movement from the “attic”. And there, between the birds, who had just made me special, and the house was a doe. Staring right at me. Laying down facing me, neck stiff & her head held motionless, she stared into my eyes unblinking. I was rendered frozen. If the house were on fire, I wouldn’t have been able to tear my eyes from hers. Stable unblinking eyes met amazed unblinking eyes. How in the world had she gotten up there?! There was more movement behind her as well. How had they gotten up there?!
Had a whole pack of deer decided to cohabitate with unworthy humans? No. Not deer. As I stood transfixed on this doe, she began to transform. Incredulous, I made a mental check to make sure I was not going to blink in fear of mistaking this vision. Would a blink be enough time for the doe to leave and another animal take its place? No. I wasn’t going to take the risk. I commanded my eyes not to blink! No trick or mistake of my mind was made. The doe actually transformed before my unbelieving eyes. And there, cast in the glow of the displaced porch light now affixed to the roof, did I see a fully grown tiger. The movement behind her was her pack. In the shadows two other tigers and one very large adult male lion on their feet shuffled
for a cozy spot to rest. The fact that the male lion was just that: a male lion among three female tigers was a non-issue. He was a part of the pack. They’d lay down and be up again when one disrupted the other. All very content. Most content was the doe turned tigress. She continued laying, head held up, gaze locked on me with only a look wild animals have. Of one only a tiger has. One of ease; with knowledge of its power and command. One that was inherently good but still a predator. Comfortable in that moment and that was all that mattered. She didn’t look at me. She watched. She watched not as though I would be her next meal but something of her equal. At that moment, it was not myself I was concerned for. It was Sidney. My dog; my baby. These tigers and lion were in my back yard alive; and if they were alive that meant they were eating! What were they eating?! Other animals? I gathered Dennis and a small number of our neighbors to assess the predicament. They were of no use. They all concurred it was my call. Police were useless as well claiming that wasn’t in their repertoire. Should I call a zoo? Animal control? But wasn’t animal control part of the police family? The news media? I was at a loss. In that moment of jaw hanging, head swirling fog of uncertainty I determined they could stay where they were at and I would just have to go out with Sidney every time she needed to potty. I could do that. I’d been doing that anyway. My presents, I knew for a certainty would keep them from harming her. And if they did dare, I would be able to break up the attack before they were able to damage her. I knew with a surety of the sun rising I would be capable of this and that I would never be in personal danger of them. It never occurred to me to be afraid of them. And so I did. I took Sidney out to potty and she was fine. The tigers never came out of the “attic”. That is where the dream ended.

The meaning:
When I woke up the next morning I knew immediately the dream meant something. I just did. Which is interesting because I believe, for the most part, that dreams are the garbage can of our minds. That brains sort out everything, like a filing system. And when something doesn’t have a place, it goes to the dream bin for recycling. I did say ‘for the most part’. I do believe that dreams can have meaning though. And I do believe that God talks to man in dreams. But this isn’t an every day occurrence. This one however, I just knew. I knew I needed to talk to Josh. But I didn’t call him. I don’t why. It’s like it was too big a hassle to pick up the phone and have small talk with him. And would he be ok with me calling wanting something? Two or three days passed and he actually called me. He doesn’t do it often. We chatted for an hour, nice easy talk. When I was about to hang up I remembered my dream. I related it to him and this is what came to him immediately: The doe was me in my youth. The transformation from doe to tiger was my transformation from youth to adulthood. The other two tigers there were my sisters. The lion was Joshua. Josh has always had an affinity with lions. There his favorite and has an disposition similar to theirs. This is why I was not afraid of them. It was me and my siblings. This gave me a sense of myself that I’ve always known I’ve had but couldn’t access for myself. I’ll explain. I can, at times, have a very strong personality. But only in the defense of someone else. Constantly in my life, if I’ve witnessed a friend in any kind of victim state, I’m there to face the challenge for them. I have, in times past, actually stepped between the bully and my friend to take on the problem myself. It’s like it’s in my DNA to step forward and protect. Like chivalry is in my programming. I’ve always-unknowingly- had that tiger with me. That element of my personality has persistently been there. She’s always been available to those who need her; friends or not. But when it comes to myself, I’m at a loss. I’m left standing without. Why could I not access her for myself? In speaking with my brother it finally occurred to me that if I want it for myself all I have to do is reach out and take it. That tigress has unending might and authority and strength and resilience and confidence and self reliance. Of course it’s unending: she is these qualities incarnate; in tiger form.

It was a blessing this dream came when it did because I thought at the time I was going to pop a spring under all the strain I have been feeling lately.
One of my favorite people in the world called me. Joshua. (Little side note: I had been getting the prompting to call him for a few days now and hadn’t). I told him my dream. He told me what he felt it meant and I very much agreed. I needed to know RIGHT THEN that that tiger was on hand and ready for me to take at any moment however often I needed her and whenever I needed her. Because she is me.

Kimberly

2008-09-04T16:29:00.000-04:00

This is a good picture of the most beautiful person I know personally besides the man I married. Seriously. Honestly nonjudgmental. Genuinely forgiving. Irritatingly possitive. Widely accepting. This is a picture of her on the best damn day of her life. Just ask her. Even if the caterer was an ass.

2008-08-31T23:48:00.000-04:00

Just us. In '08

It's just us. In '07