Happy Birthday to Me!

Today I am 30. How did this happen? I did everything possible to prevent it, I ate vegetables, I read my scriptures and went to church, I drank from the fountain of eternal youth, but to no avail. It still came.

For me, turning 30 marks a milestone. I am officially an adult. I have to leave my 20’s, in which you can make dumb mistakes and blame it on youth, to my 30’s where I have to be “responsible” and “worry about wrinkles”. So, in order to cope and convince myself that the 30’s can be fantastic too, and to prove you are as young as you feel (or in my case act), I am stealing an idea from my good friend Cropstar. Below are 30 things I intend to do while 30.

1. Attend at least 12 concerts.
2. Take a cake decorating class.
3. Get a new stamp in my passport.
4. Read “The Count of Monte Cristo” (unabridged).
5. Swim with dolphins.
6. Frame pictures of my trips and hang them.
7. Attend a professional sporting event.
8. Go to a drive-in movie.
9. Max out my 401k.
10. Sing karaoke in a crowded room.
11. Buy something ridiculously expensive.
12. Attend a taping of “The Price is Right”.
13. Do something nice for someone without them knowing.
14. Go skinny dipping.
15. Write a thank you note to someone who might go unnoticed.
16. Visit the Calico Ghost Town.
17. Write in my journal on a regular basis.
18. Ride a horse.
19. Read the Book of Mormon with focus.
20. Learn to play the guitar.
21. See the circus.
22. Finish decorating my house.
23. Go to an amusement park.
24. Stay up all night.
25. Pay off my second mortgage.
26. Go to a demolition derby.
27. Learn yoga.
28. Go to the Grand Canyon.
29. Use a fake name and story.
30. Transition to a family ward.

Also, I am celebrating my birthday with a HUGE party this Saturday! My friends Air Raid Anthem are playing, there will be swimming, cotton candy, popcorn, and more amazing things. Pretty much it will be the best night ever. So, come one come all! Everyone is invited! It is at my parent’s house, and if you don’t know where that is, call me and I’ll get you the address.

I know I can dance...

This past Tuesday I was able to attend a taping of So You Think You Can Dance which was a magical and wonderful and (dare I say) special experience.

Being a part of a studio audience is essentially the same as being in prison… no phones, no cameras, no food or water. Because of this, I have no photographic proof of our trip (other than the fact I was on TV!) So, here is a re-cap of our trip without actual pictures.

We left Las Vegas Monday night and didn’t get into California until 2:30am. During the drive down, I felt sick and took Cha-cha’s medicine, which I was told was just a stronger version of NyQuil. It made me feel weird. I did not like that. But, let me tell you, I have never slept so well on a blow up mattress on Cropstar's sister's floor.

After eating a huge burrito from Chipotle, we got in line around 12:30pm at the CBS studios. They film SYTYCD in the same building as Price is Right, which let’s be honest, has lost something since Bob Barker left.

While in line, Maren-Moo tortured and then viciously murdered an extremely large beetle who dared to enter our space in line. Let that be a lesson to all beetles everywhere.

After the beetle died, things were a little boring, so Cropstar and Cha-cha located a Goodwill and purchased a glow in the dark puzzle and the “Book of Questions”. The line moved before we finished assembling the puzzle, so we may never see what a wizard doing magic and a dragon coming out of a cauldron looks like in the dark. This is the only dark mark on an otherwise glorious day.

Around 3pm (we will never be sure, without phones we had no idea what time it was. What are we supposed to do, wear watches?) we finally were allowed to enter the magnificent studio. Standing room only, unfortunately, but being the tallest in the room allowed me to easily snatch from the air the t-shirts the guy warming up the crowd threw to us. Unfortunately, the 16 year old obnoxious girl in front of me decided she could take said t-shirt from my hands. She was wrong. This apparently was the worst thing to ever happen to her, as she and her friends proceeded to talk about it for the rest of the taping. We are still not sure if they were giving us dirty looks, or if that is just the way they looked.

Actual t-shirt won in brawl with under aged girls

The show is filmed in one take, only pausing for commercial breaks and costume changes. Before the show they spent time filming audience reaction shots, which we were clearly excelled at, as evidenced by our many TV appearances. Stank face obnoxious teenagers? Not so much.

Cat Deeley is prettier in person, and has the ability to come from a full laugh to hitting her lines perfectly. I like that. Mary Murphy isn’t as annoying in person. I even found her funny. I was shocked too. Most of the judges’ comments are edited out of the show. They gave a lot of tips and critiques and do funny things that never aired. And tell dirty jokes.

I almost stopped breathing when Wade Robson sat down with the choreographers. Also in attendance: Mark, Comfort, Dimitri, and Pasha. After the taping, and on our way out, we ran into Pasha. I said “Hey”, and totally froze. He stared at me with a very confused look, as I was apparently unable to move. Cropstar, however, jumped into action, screaming, “we love you Pasha!” and was rewarded with a hug and a back rub. To the left, notice picture of Pasha, aka Cropstar's new boyfriend.

Official time of studio exit: 7:30pm. Official time back in Las Vegas: 2:30am. All told, I dedicated 31 hours of my life to see the live taping, and it was totally worth it.

The inside of my head looks like the inside of my purse

The following are all the random thoughts in my head. Enjoy!

• Jared comes home in 2 weeks. I am excited! And, hopefully my baby brother hasn’t turned into a weirdo. The phone call on Mother’s Day left me with suspicion. Example, he made an agenda for the call. Don’t worry, he will be mocked for that one for years to come.
• Despite all my resistance, I think I need an iPhone for one reason and one reason only. Research. Have you ever been driving down I-15 and wonder why Victorville even exists? Or, been sitting in church and wonder what midget babies look like? With the iPhone, these questions could be answered immediately. The internet is magic.
• Because of my unfounded and unreasonable disdain for the iPhone, I think I will be forced to get the new Google phone.
• I really wish KFC delivered. This would have saved me the embarrassment of going through the drive-thru in my bathrobe and getting mocked by fast food employees. A girl needs her chicken.
• SYTYCD IS ALMOST HERE!!! Season premiere Thursday May 21. There will be a viewing party, and all are welcome! But, be warned, we are serious fans, and there are rules. (If you don’t know what SYTYCD stands for, you are uninvited to the party.)
• I think Helen, the Biggest Loser winner, looks significantly older as a skinny person than a fat person.
• I have decided to shun the entire state of Missouri. This is a work related shun, and I don’t want to bore you with work details, but let’s just say they don’t call it the “Show Me” state for nothing. And, they are stupid.
• My boss is from New Orleans and has as thick southern drawl. And, for some reason when he swears, it just sounds better and natural. Like if he didn’t swear, then it would be weird.
• I need a concert to go to, and fast. I haven't been to one all month, and it is starting to give me the shakes. I have tickets to The Killers in September, but between now and then, nothing. Who should I see? Who wants to go?

Ode to Scott Weiland...

I love Scott Weiland. I know he is a heroin-addicted crack whore who has destroyed more hotel rooms than Donald Trump has wigs, but I love him for it. I love him for his bleached out hair, his chiseled cheekbones, his piercing blue eyes, his tumultuous relationship with his ex-wife (She is a former model and he has her face tattooed on his forearm. They once had a fight so extreme that they destroyed a hotel room before she drove like a mad person back to their home and set all of his clothes on fire.) Unlike the anorexic emo boys today all trying to wear the same pair of girl size zero jeans, he is rock and roll. He is the real thing.

A week ago I got to see him in a “rare and intimate” performance at LAX nightclub. I was within 6 feet of the man and was able to touch him. That is right, he reached out his hands to the crowd, and I held on and didn’t want to let go. I am here to testify that Scott Weiland has very soft, yet very strong hands. I am pretty sure the moment meant as much to him as it did to me.

Anxious anticipation before the show! We are so nervous! And, everyone here is nervous!

The man, the myth, the legend himself.

Kids, smoking is very bad. But, wouldn't it be more shocking if he didn't light up before the show? He wouldn't quite be the same without it.

A little fuzzy, but isn't he pretty?

Just sing Scott, just sing.

After his set was over, Scott (cause we are on a first name basis) and the band started jamming to the random song the DJ was playing. This is Scott playing a wooden fish. It was awesome.

Even more impressive, he managed to stay sober for the entire set. We are all proud of you Scott! Keep on trucking!

This one is dedicated to Maren

I love facials. This is no secret, and should come as no surprise to anyone. Almost two years ago, my then boss highly recommended to me a med-spa, specifically one esthetician she said was fantastic. Never one to pass up a recommendation like that, I quickly made an appointment with Lisa*, and was very happy.

About 8 months later, because the owners were late on rent, the spa closed. Lisa told me she was going to start doing facials out of her home, but for half the cost. Sold! She has a nice set up, a separate room with all the necessary equipment, blah, blah, blah. In fact, it is pretty much an exact replica of her room at the med-spa.** And for half price! The only problem with this situation? Her two yappy dogs.

I am not a dog lover. Honestly, I am not even an animal lover. I don’t know why anyone would be committed to picking up poop FOREVER. It isn’t like a dog will one day grow up and be potty trained, you know, like those human babies. Not to mention the hair, the chewing, the needing to be fed everyday. Enough already!

Previously, the dogs were never really a problem, other than their mere existence, because Lisa always kept them locked up in a separate part of her house. But then, a few weeks ago, just as she was applying my mask and relaxing eye pack, we heard a huge crash. She asked, would I mind if she went and checked on the dogs while my mask set? No problem. I was completely relaxed, eyes covered, I didn’t know who was in the room anyways.

Trying to be very Zen, Lisa slowly opened the door, but surprised, she gasped as both little dogs were standing outside the door. Then, possessed with power that could only come from the devil, one of the little dogs flew and landed right on my stomach. I know he flew because in my blinded state I had a heightened sense of hearing, and I heard no running across the hard wood floor. Startled, I started flailing about, much as you would if you had a possessed dog on your stomach, as Lisa attempted to remove the dog. I think I may have actually hit her. She was successful in retrieving the dog, but not before HE LICKED MY FACE. Apologizing profusely, Lisa got the dogs locked back up, washed all the demon venom from my face, reapplied the mask, and compensated by giving me the most amazing hot stone massage. No lasting scars.

Moral of this story: Dogs are evil, especially dogs wearing clothes.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
**Between you and me, I am thinking that there may have been some late night shopping at the former spa, if you know what I mean.

I'm back!!!

It's over! My report is filed, and now I can turn my attention back to more important things, like this blog, and telling you how I became a fat girl.

I am hearing the collective sigh, and the resounding, "but you're not fat". I don't want to hear it. I am what they call a lucky fat girl, or as I refer to it "skinny fat". I have KFC chicken and cupcakes running through my veins. In the past, my routine of fast food and not exercising had no effect on my ability to fit in my pants, only my ability to climb a flight of stairs without panting, and to die at a young age from heart disease. Those days are now over. I don't know if it is my pending 30th birthday, or the fact that it is Girl Scout cookie season, but I can no longer fit into my purple velvet pants. Something has got to change.

(Just so you know, I personally blame the Girl Scout cookies. Girl scout cookies are made of crack. It is the only way to explain how addictive they are. I am ashamed, yet oddly proud, to admit that I have finished off 4 boxes of cookies, one of which was a box of thin mints eaten in a 4-hour window, and I have 3 partially eaten boxes to go. During the past 2 weeks, I have on more than one occasion tried to stalk the Girl Scouts by driving store to store. When the driving became a problem, I was forced to find a reliable source. That is right, now I have a dealer for my addiction. But, at least I am doing my part to help out the economy.)

Thus was born my brain child, my greatest creation to date. I'm not only the President of the Fat Girls Club, but I am also a member. The object of this club is not to reward healthy living or losing weight, or whatever your personal goal is, but to punish you for not achieving it. I don't know about you, but I respond so much better when public humiliation is on the line. The club has rules, rules that must be followed on a weekly basis. If a rule has been broken, you face the wheel of punishment. Suggested punishments include posting your weight as your Facebook status. Or, making your profile picture a pre-Fat Girls Club photo of you wearing only spandex. The rules and punishments are not set yet, so tonight after FHE we will be having the first meeting of the Fat Girls Club to vote on and approve all rules and punishments. So, if you are serious about looking good around the pool this summer, and not dieing at a young age from heart disease, come join us!

Oh, and PS... I feel smarter EVERYTIME I read Maren's blog...

January is the best!

It's that time of the year. The time of year where the hours in my office exceed the hours outside of my office. The time of year where I dedicate my life to writing a 10K, pouring over every detail, just to have no one read it or no one care. It's so good to have a job that really makes a difference in the world. So, I am going to be a bad blogger for the time being, at least until I have something wonderful to blog about.