Another Teaser of the Soiree!

Sorry I still don’t have time to talk about the trip much, but here is a teaser!

We LOOOOOOVEEDDDDD Hairspray. We seriously wanted to go see it again as soon as it was over.

Exhausted and Full

So, um, yeah . . . this weekend with the girls was A BLAST. But I’m exhausted. And full. We ate a lot. No, a TON. See?

Hahaha. Don’t get any ideas (mother and mother-in-law specifically!). Julia (on the right) is really “with child.” I am just “with pregnancy imitating pillow at the Maternity store.”

I promise to post more pictures and tell the great stories of our weekend soon. Right now I just want to slip into a carb/sugar induced coma for like the next week, until I’m off to DC for work. Sigh . . .

Oldest, wonderfulest

Yes folks, it’s another dear friend’s birthday! Happy 27th Birthday Sheila!!

I don’t remember meeting Sheila. Our mother’s lived two doors down from each other growing up, joined the LDS church together, and remain the best of friends to this day. Sheila and I were born four months apart and probably met when I was just a couple of months old. We have never not been friends. We have always been in each other’s lives.

We were vacation friends for the first 15 years or so . . . then we started taking longer visits to each other’s homes. We started sharing the same friends, keeping in touch better, and slowly but surely, we became practically joined at the hip.

Our freshman year in college we took all the same GE classes, and then continued to do so for the rest of our time there. We were there for some of each other’s funniest college moments. My favorite examples include:

The inability to read the word debris (it’s derbis, I swear!)

Sheila’s near death experience with a rock on a field trip

A teacher’s with upside down slides who didn’t know it and was explaining the “blue layer” as a strange rock formation from days gone by when, in fact, it was the sky

And my personal favorite, my being hit on the head with a remote control

. . . and those are just a few.

Sophomore year we moved in to the same apartment, and we lived together until the summer Sheila met and married her wonderful husband.

Together, throughout our 26ish years of life, we have laughed harder than I ever thought possible. I cant’ even count the number of times I remember us lying in bed laughing so hard we thought we might pee ourselves.

Chicky Chicky and Lady Buggie Pants!!

We have shared heartbreak, joy, true love, marriage, arrival of children (hers not mine ) and we continue to be the best of friends. She is an amazing example of calm, serene spirituality blended perfectly with joy and laughter. She is an amazing mother and wife, and I look up to her so much. She is my oldest, wonderfulest friend.

I am devastated because I can’t find the box that contains the best of our pictures together, but next year I’ll get her good For now, I think these ones will suffice. Specifically this one, for which she might shed my blood this week during the Girl’s Trip. Hahaha.

Love your guts Bo-Beila! I’m so excited to get to be with you on your birthday this year!! We’ll party like rock stars!

Aaaaaggaa Birday Eeeee Oooooooo

Today is Tofutti’s 23rd Birthday. You can read my “Ode to Futti” here

But, I did have to embarrass her juuuust a little more.

Hugs and kisses. Loves you lots.

Add this post to the list of reasons I’m lame

So, um, for those of you who read for my brilliant (hahah) writing, I am afraid you will be disappointed today. This is a “catch-up” post of sorts, and unfortunately, probably one of the only posts I’ll have time to do for a while. Because . . .

THIS WEEK IS THE ANNUAL LADIES SOIREE! I am so excited. For those who don’t know, I have a slew of fabulous girlfriends and we get together once a year for a vacation with just the girls. (There are more than I linked, but some don’t have blogs and some have private blogs.) Jewels does the amazing job of planning the event every year, and this year, and she is SO amazing at it. She picks a theme every year (Year 1 was Diva Las Vegas, Year 2 was Divafornia) and organizes and plans everything. She sends out “Diva Packets” and makes sure we all have some piece of coordinating clothing or accessory. (Accessories? Eh, whatever.)

This year, I think she’s outdone herself.

We are going to Utah, to the place where we all went to school at one time or another, so the theme this year is Diva U. Jewels sent us all admission packets with an invitation to join the sorority “Phi Omega Diva” and we have ID cards, a pom-pom, a DVD of songs to pump us up, a DVD with pictures from last year and also HILARIOUS pictures from the past 12 years or so that we’ve all been friends. I laughed and cried. It was way better than Cats.

Check out all this sweet stuff! Oh and did I mention she pulled all of this off 7 months pregnant?? Uh, hello, Superwoman!

So, I leave on Tuesday for the trip. It’s going to be awesome but I won’t be having time for the ‘puter, but it will be so worth it.

In other news, we’ve finally had some traffic on our house, but it still hasn’t sold, but I’m feeling good about it selling before our new house is done. We’re saving up just in case we have to pay two mortgages for a little while, but we have lots of options right now and so we’re feeling good.

SPEAKING of the new house, it’s been forever since I posted pictures. So here are a few to catch us up. They have made TONS of progress and we’re scheduled to close at the end of September. Only five months after our original closing date, but what can you do!

June 25th we were here:

Um, this is the front of the house, in case you couldn’t tell.

The kitchen! Weeeeee!

July 8th we were here:

Um, white stuff on the outside! I know so much about building homes . . .

Wires and water and gas lines, oh my!

As of this afternoon, we were here:

She’s looooong and narrow!

DRYWALL!!!!

So, there you have it. The lamest blog ever, but at least I feel like I’ve done some updating! I hope you all have a wonderful week!

Flashback . . . what day is it again?

OK so I suck at keeping up with all the cool stuff I promised to provide my readers. I’m really sorry. And I am also sorry that this post is going to be kind of lame. I would post something cool but today has been a bit of a debacle and tomorrow promises even less joy, so I guess I’m sort of just being lazy.

So, here is my flashback picture. This was taken last November in the Orange County, California area. It was the last time all of my siblings and I were all together.

Left to right: Meagan, Sean, Patrick and Me

Are we adopted? Is what you’re asking right now, right? I mean, we don’t look much alike. As teenagers, we were all standing next to each other in the bathroom once and Sean, the tall, dark and handsome one, said “Holy crap we look nothing alike. There’s got to be an explanation!” So, we came up with one.

I am the original, biological child, despite having parents who both have dark hair. I look enough like my Dad to get away with being related and my hands and feet are exact replica’s of my mother’s. I am also what they might refer to as the “Golden Child” being that the most trouble I really ever got into was sneaking out of the house to go over to someone else’s house to watch a movie. Seriously.

Sean (the dark one) decided he must be the son of the Mexican landscaper, as in the summer he gets so tan that he is often mistaken for someone of Hispanic origin. Also, because do you see that face? It’s like a rico suave latin lover!

Meagan, our tiny, perfect sprite, is the test tube baby, biologically engineered to receive all the ideal features of our family tree. (See how tiny and skinny and gorgeous she is? Hate her! Ok not really.)

Finally, Patrick, the giant blonde oaf, is like the Danny DeVito character in Twins, and somehow sort of ended up with all the leftover, genetically mutated “garbage.” (He thinks this is a hilarious version of how he came to be, for the record. He won’t be offended.)

So there you have it . . . a flashback of sorts. I wish there were a better story behind it or something cool to show, but there are my bruddas and my sist-o. Gotta love ‘em. NEXT time, when I can get my scanner working, I am going to show you the BEST picture of my parents EVER. Seriously. Circa 1978. SO AWESOME.

Not that you care . . .

I’ve alluded to this before, but I want to make it VERY clear that I am not a fan of people who take themselves WAY too seriously.

Yes, there is a long story behind this, but unfortunately, feelings might get hurt if I share too much, so, let’s just say I know this person who can’t seem to find the humor in anything, and while all around people are laughing hysterically and poking harmless fun at themselves and others, this person becomes frustrated and tries to explain why NOTHING about the situation everyone else is laughing about is funny in any way. Then, this person gets insulted when said group of people are laughing too hard to hear what they’re saying, even though, by my estimation, they were laughing FIRST.

I know that there are times to be serious, but let me tell you, if you choose to go out and about with a jovial group of people, you’d better freaking be prepared to at least TRY to have a good time.

Also, for the record, when going out with a jovial group of people, it might be a good idea to stop talking and listen long enough to realize that there is some FUNNY CRAP going on around you.

Just saying.

I’m actually terribly timid

There is a song called “Shy” from a not-so-famous musical called “Once Upon a Mattress” in which the lead character dances and belts at the top of her lungs that she’s
“just as embarrassed as you
And I can understand your point of view
I’ve always been SHY
I confess that I’m SHY
Can’t you guess that this confident air
Is a mask that I wear ’cause I’m SHYYYY“
And it’s basically a mockery of shyness. It’s a great song, though slightly obnoxious if you don’t like a purely belted song.

But, this leads me to the point of my post.

There was a time, or actually a very long time basically spreading from the moment of my birth until about five years ago, when I was not shy in any way, shape or form. My mother tells stories of me hanging out of shopping carts at the grocery store screaming “Hi! Hi! Hi. HIIIIIII” until the person I was speaking to had no choice but to respond. I’d wander off all the time and find the nearest stranger and strike up a conversation. I remember TELLING my mother, after we saw “Cats” for the first time that I could sing just like Grizabelle the Glamour Cat in her rendition of “Memory.” And I truly believed it. I could do anything. I could BE anything. Looking back I can’t believe what a self-assured, confident little person I was.

Honestly, I blame/thank my mother. My birthday is New Year’s Eve, and until I was about five, I was told, and honestly believed that the fireworks and parties and hoop-la was for MY birthday. I was convinced that the whole world was celebrating ME. I was devastated when I discovered that New Year’s Eve was a world-wide celebration of THE NEW YEAR, but I think that it truly helped form the confident person I became.

Then something happened . . . I guess it crept up slowly through the years. A bit of self consciousness here and there slowly oozed it’s way into my life. I found myself becoming shy in the weirdest situations. For example, I am a trained Broadway style singer (thus the “Once Upon a Mattress” reference). I have years and years of voice training and acting and all of that under my belt. Yet, I am terrified to sing in front of small crowds, especially when they are filled with people I know. I have NO problem singing to a huge auditorium, but put me in a room with my family and ask me to sing a Christmas song and I FREAK OUT. I myself readily admit it is the weirdest thing.

I now find myself hiding in my shell more, hiding from confrontation and not wanting to “put myself out there” and meet tons of new people. And it’s SO STRANGE to me! Because I know how I used to be!

I am trying to figure out how to get some of my carefree, non-shy self back. I liked that person! I liked the girl who truly believed she could do anything. Who tried to make friends with everyone she encountered. Who didn’t understand and had to fix it when someone didn’t like her. I am also trying to find this person for the new responsibilities in my job. I am now responsible for lead generation for our sales team. This is going to require my “putting myself out there” a lot more. And I’m scared. Hold me.

I guess I have two questions for the bloggy world. First, does this happen to everyone? Do we all become more and more shy and reserved as we become adults? Second, do you have advice on how to overcome it when necessary? Truly, I’m dying to know. Spill!

Flying High

So, I don’t really like to use my blog to brag about myself or talk about how awesome my life is, blah blah blah. Don’t get me wrong, my life is great, but I happen to think the humor and humanness of a good life is found in the mishaps and the insecurities and other such things. I don’t ever want to be that person who sends the Holiday letter full of bragging about how amazing they are and how brilliant their children are and how much better the whole family is than the rest of the world. It’s just not my bag.

BUT

Today I was pulled into my boss’ office to talk about my yearly review.

I had a pretty good year. I was finally promoted from my executive admin position and into marketing last August and received my first raise since starting at the company two years before. I accomplished some cool things and love my new boss and feel like I have great chemistry with my team. We work well together and we sell the crap out of our technology. So I figured I would get a standard 5-7% cost of living raise and a good review.

Oh how wrong I was. (And here comes the part I am cringing about and hoping I don’t sound like a pompous a**)

I got a rave review, a promotion and a huge – no, unbelievably huge raise. I almost died. I literally almost fell out of my chair.

This news came absolutely out of the blue. I have been walking on clouds all day. Naturally, the promotion and raise come with added responsibility and the guarantee of working more hours and being much more accountable for certain aspects of the sales and marketing team, but OH MY GOSH.

So, in all honesty, my waning participation in the blog world will probably continue. I still plan to be involved and to comment, it just might be less frequently and with less fervor and enthusiasm. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you all. I swear.

So, as an apology, I give you a mini-Kateastrophe.

I have this shirt that I love. It’s this gorgeous dark chocolate brown V-neck that is so soft and comfortable. I get excited every time I wash it because I get to wear it again. However, it has a little bit of a “bleeding” problem. I have ruined a few tank tops and a bra with it.

So, on Wednesday I had my appointment with the trainer at the gym. I had worn my brown shirt that day. I changed my clothes and went to the mirror to put my hair up in a ponytail and gasped. The shirt had finally crossed the line. It had dyed my armpits an orangy-brown color. I had about four minutes before I had to go warm up so I grabbed a few paper towels and got them wet and put a little bit of soap on them and started to rub at my armpits furiously. This is of course the exact moment that an old lady decided to walk up next to me and she just . . . stared. I tried to ignore her for a minute, but it was getting annoying, so I finally turned to her and said “my shirt dyed my armpits orange! I can’t just go out there and lift weights with orange armpits!!”

“Ooooooh” she replied. “I just thought you were just a weirdo clean freak.”

Thanks lady. Thanks a lot.

Haaaapppyy BIRRRRTHHDAYYY dear BRILLIG!

Today is the birfday o’the Brillig, and you’re going to get to see some hilarious (and slightly embarrassing) pictures of the two of us. And she might kill me.But I do not care.

I met Brill under unusual, awkward circumstances. She was two years above me in school and we were both in Drama and Choir, and somehow, our groups of friends ended up hating each other during my freshman year. It was weird and I cannot ’splain it now, but we didn’t like each other.

The next year, my friends and I were in a rough patch, and I was having a hard time with them. Brillig and I had been cast as “leads” (I only say it in quotes because she was the lead and I was . . . like a half lead) in the school musical. And miraculously, we became insta-friends.

As cheesy as this is going to sound, when I became friends with Brillig, I felt as though I had found the other half of my soul. Brillig was the most amazing person I’d ever met. She was/is hilarious, brilliant, interesting, full of joy and fun . . . we were fascinated by SO many of the same things and had SO many of the same mannerisms. We shared a love for quesadillas, pasta and saltine crackers that is hard to describe. We even found out that we slept in the same position. We sang duets (I’m a soprano and she has a GORGEOUS alto voice) and would spend hours at her parent’s piano just plunking away and singing at the top of our lungs.She introduced me to new, cuter boys, we stayed up all night sharing our hopes and dreams for the future and listening to her extensive record collection . . . we had SO MUCH FUN. We even make the same face in most of our pictures. See?

I don’t know if Brillig would say the same thing about me, but she brought true joy into my life and was my first real, no strings attached friend. (For the record, I have many of those true, amazing friends now, but I had an . . . awkward adolescence, so it took me a while to find my stride and discover myself and figure out how to be a friend. I think Brillig is the first friend where I did something right.)

We had more adventures than I could even begin to describe. I remember one involving a flat tire in my Mom’s van . . . another involving and officer thinking we were drunk drivers . . . and somehow (thanks much in part to our/her friend Matt) I have much evidence of rubber gloves . . .

We were away from each other for most holidays and summers because we both spent a great deal of time traveling. We were devastated to have to be apart so she ALWAYS made me fabulous 80’s mix tapes to keep me company during the long. lonely days we were forced to spend apart. We’d write each other lengthy letters and I still have BOXES of notes and letters from school and from our times apart and reading them just cracks me up. I love that I still have all of them and can reference them at will.

I guess all those times apart were preparing me to someday be far, far away from her, with no permanent reunion yet in sight. Yet, thanks to miracles of technology, I get to “talk” to her every day. (Holy goodness I am so grateful for IM!!)

Now, I want y’all to go over and with Miss Brillig a happy,happy, happy birthday. And if you figure out how, do it true Kate and Brillig style, and give her the birthday greeting Opera style.

And now my required personal note . . .

Dearest friend . . . I don’t think you will ever know how much I love you and how grateful I am that you are in my life. I will forever treasure our friendship and since I can’t be there with you, I thought this was the best way to wish you the HAPPIEST of birthdays. I just wish I could be there to share it with you. Now I want you to go out and celebrate in style for me!! LOVE YOU!!