Halloween 2010

I hate being away from Utah on Halloween, turns out.
I did my best with the crushing homesickness and produced this:

 I'm a tornado, duh.

And here I am spinning.

...and dancing.

...and sprouting arms in grumpiness. Probably because someone mistook me for a tampon.

And, finally, calling it a night. Riding in the car with a troll doll.

Happy Halloween, from far far away!

CUPCAKES!!!! Oh my gosh I love cupcakes.

I made cupcakes last night for a birthday. White cake mix, cream cheese frosting, done. They are SO good.
I’ve known for awhile that cupcakes are good. Like, since I was 6. That’s what I always requested for my birthday cake—vanilla cupcakes with vanilla or cream cheese frosting. Yes, I was ahead of the cupcake curve. I knew then and I know now that cupcakes are good, and why are they good? Because they are golden brown on all sides. Because they’re less formidable than an entire cake. Because in about three bites it’s over and you’re happy. NOT because they have frosting piled 6 feet high. NOT because they cost $4. And NOT because they’re exotic and overwrought with ingredients like rose hip jelly and saffron buttercream cookie crumble.

Why am I so annoyed by modern cupcakes?
No really, why? Why does this bother me so much?

I guess because I feel they’ve been prostituted. Something I liked for its very simplicity is now a convoluted, trendy mess of a confection that will make me gouge my eyes out if I see one more super hip shop dedicated solely to fulfilling your wildest cupcake dreams. Sure, they’re inherently cute and tasty and I can’t blame people for wanting to capitalize on that. But that ship sailed 10 years ago or something! We need to get over cupcakes! Well, at least over the cupcake frenzy. And we especially need to stop doing giant cupcake cakes. I’m completely mystified by a miniature cake imitating a full-sized cake by becoming full-sized. There’s a term for that, but I can’t remember....life imitating art? Meta? No, wait, I remember: super nerdy.



No offense if you’re starting a cupcake shop, had or are having cupcakes at your wedding, or if you just baked your child a giant cupcake birthday cake. I admit that these new cupcakes are sometimes really, really yummy. But like a good song that comes out and then 1 month later makes you want to surgically remove your ears because it’s been so overplayed, cupcakes need to keep their distance from me for awhile.

Words, words, words

So I’ve been reading again.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve outgrown a lot of things. Boundless energy, for one. A passion for miniature replicas of everyday items, for another. There was the turtle/frog phase, the playing orphanage phase, the pictures of shirtless Tom Cruise phase (Side note: This was when I first discovered the internet. And hot on the heals of this new delight was the revelation that one must be careful what one searches for on the internet. A shirtless Tom Cruise can very easily become a pantsless Tom Cruise, and at that point it’s only the sluggishness of a circa 1997 dial-up that preserves one’s innocence). But my childhood left me with one enduring passion: Reading. I thought maybe I’d sort of outgrown this too, but recent events have proven otherwise.

 Tom Cruise has changed. I haven't.

I spent last week in a self-imposed prison. I say prison because it’s the only word strong enough to convey the hold on me certain books can get. To say I become enthralled is not enough. Distracted, addicted, consumed…those get a little closer. But I think it’s safe to say that I am held captive by books. They don’t even have to be particularly fantastic books either—obviously, because The Babysitter’s Club has stolen many an hour of my life. But if there’s a story and I want to know how it ends, I have to say goodbye to every other thing I have going on in my life until it’s over. My family used to tease me for trying to read books at the dinner table, while walking, while I was supposed to be doing homework or practicing the piano or playing outside in the summer.

 What? I'm doing my homework.

What? I'm practicing piano.

 

What? My hair is permed. Especially my bangs.

In the last few years I’ve gone on and off with reading because I’ve become ridiculously busy. But every once in awhile, one of these books grabs hold of me and it’s not until a few days later, when I dazedly come up for air and see the shambles that is my neglected life, that I realize I have a problem.

I’m starting to think it’s not healthy. Like any other hobby, I guess it can be too all-consuming and start to steal from the other facets of life…like personal hygiene and social pursuits. Because when I read, I don’t care if I see another soul for days. I can’t seem to find the motivation to go running or eat a real meal or stick to a normal-length lunch break because the alternate world I’ve entered is much more inviting. Scary, isn’t it? I’ve always thought it was ok because, well, it’s reading. It’s not video games and it’s not porn and it’s not drugs or Renaissance reenactments or, I dunno, compulsive gambling or other things I consider deplorable. It’s reading. Reading is good for you! Reading makes you smarter! Reading is something precious, an ability and a privilege held sacred since the invention of writing. Right?

Is it possible that reading, for me, is a vice?

Nay.

I just felt like saying nay.

But really, I hope not. It’s true, I probably need to chill out a bit and not give up the few hours of sleep I’m lucky to get by finishing a few more chapters of my latest book. But I can’t do it! It’s a dang good thing that this relatively innocent thing happens to be my compulsion because the lack of self-control I’m exhibiting is frightening. I’m starting to get an idea of what life would be like if I had a fondness for alcohol. Thank goodness for acceptable pursuits!

So I’ve been reading again. And how.

In the last 2 weeks I’ve read The Hiding Place and all three Hunger Games books, and now I’m on to Don’t Get Too Comfortable by David Rakoff. Any new recommendations for me? I’m on a roll.

Dancing Queen

Well, I've found my calling in life. I suppose I've always known it, but today it's been made quite clear that I was put on this earth to dance. At people's weddings.

I've earned far too much face time on cameras doing this (most of you readers are probably nodding your heads because you've seen me plastered all over your wedding videos) and it's slightly embarrassing, because I'm usually not an integral part of anyone's wedding party. But my only defense is this: When I ask what I can do to help with someone's wedding, the inevitable response is "Dance!" Apparently there is a great need for young single girls to dance like it's going out of style so that the marriage will be successful. Those who know me know that this is a job I can do.

And, brides of the world, I am happy to do so. If I accomplish nothing more than occupying a 12x12 dance floor for 2 hours of your special day, then I've succeeded in this life.

Welcome to Summer

I know most of the country is enjoying what they consider the winding down days of summer. But here in Southern California, Summer's just beginning. This last weekend, for the first time, each day arrived with little or no fog, and finished without any chilly wind and with temperatures above 75º. Finally. I will tell you that every single Californian I've talked to says "this is the coldest summer we've had in 30 years." Seriously, we've averaged 65º probably, with it being downright cold at night. For those of you who've been suffering through very hot summers, I'm sure this sounds like bliss. It probably is bliss. But I'm a spoiled little sun worshipper who just hasn't gotten her fill this year, so I'm determined not to be satisfied with bliss--I want bliss + 10º, apparently. Anyway, I'm very excited about the sudden warmth and have spent every spare minute at the beach this weekend. I'm a lucky girl. I hope it lasts.

And now, I present some pictures because the public demands it.
Ok, nobody has actually asked for pictures. But, uh, here you go.

This is me with my friend Olliviah on the 4th of July. A crazy lady saw us take this picture and complimented us profusely on our patriotic outfits. She then asked "Are you besties?" This is a word I'm not yet comfortable with, and lots of people use it around here. It means best friends, in case you're wondering. Anyway, I just said yes to get the lady to go away, and poor Olliviah is perpetually honest and proceeded to awkwardly look at me and try to put a name on our friendship. "We're still getting to be friends, I guess. We have fun together. We don't really know each other that well yet..."
Anyway, we're friends. She's not convinced, but I am.

This is at a party celebrating my friend Aaron's status as a full-fledged fire fighter. If you can't tell, I'm putting out a fire with a very large imaginary hose in this picture. Spencer (on the right) looks drunk but isn't. I promise.

Me with godchild Claire. Claire and Melinda came to visit last month and I'm not over it yet. This baby is magical and we're in love. She makes the best faces in the world, and I haven't even been around to teach her, so that says a lot about her natural talent.

In other news, Shannon came to visit a long time ago. This is us near Main street. Those trees line the ocean I run alongside every other day. Love.

I hate blogger. It's so hard to format. Anyway, last but not least I shall show you some pics from Maria's wedding flowers I did last month also. Her wedding was fun, but unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of things besides flowers, so....boring. But I liked how they turned out.

 

 

I might be wanting to start doing some flowers around here. I like doing it and I think I'm better at it than I am at graphic design. Don't tell my boss--I've worked hard to pull the wool over his eyes.

Well, I guess that's it. Just a bit of an update this time. I should have some more exciting stories to tell next time I muster up the blog energy.

See ya, besties!

xoxo

Lately

Lately...
I don't feel much like blogging. I try to be outside as much as possible when I'm away from work, and my compy sort of hates going outside. I should probably do a real update on my life, but even now I'm getting all tense and anxious, as if my body is saying "Why are you at a desk? Why are you typing? It's the weekend. WEEKEND!"

So I'm posting some pictures soon. Not sure of what, but here are some likely candidates:
--Visits from friends and godchildren
--4th of July
--Pioneer trek

And about that last one, I returned yesterday from my long-overdue pioneer trek, and it was great. We've gone soft on these kids, compared to the stories I heard from previous victims. Seriously, Candice came back from hers talking like it was Vietnam. My trek was more like...hanging out near suburbia in long skirts and sleeping on the ground. Oh, and I died and came back as an angel. More to come after I sleep!

 

 

Simplicity