Meet us

If you know me, have met me, or stared at me from afar, you probably know that I have a healthy image of self. You may have interpreted it otherwise (common phrase: Too cool for school) the first time we met, but over time, I won you over with my adorable anecdotes and $2,000 smile (understatement). With that said, you probably also know that there is one area in which I become rather sheepish, self-doubting/loathing, and embarrassed. That area, of course, being my relationship with my dear friend Cassie. Now, don't get me wrong, I love her (not that kind of love, see the sensitivity of the subject??).

Background Information:

When two girls go off to college at age 18 and live on the same floor of the dorms, we call them neighbors. When those same two girls move into their first apartment the next year, we call them roommates. And so that title continues for their years during college. During this time, roommates are a source of laughter, subject of pranks, means to meeting boys, and TV buddies. The refrigerator is often filled with 6 jugs of milk, all carefully initialed in permanent marker (JV, CC, RS, CH, LH, LC, CH2, RB, ET, KB, SH, you get the point). They're on their own, or so they think, thanks mom and dad for the rent check. Eventually, graduation day comes and quickly the 6 jugs of milk become one and a quart of Soy. Those same two girls are now looking for their next phase of living, which usually involves a townhome, condo, duplex and possibly elderly friend's basement. At first, the excitement of not having to move out at the end of the semester is intoxicating. They buy picture frames and spice cabinets, they begin their nesting, we call them best friends. However, at a not quite as distinguishable point, this relationship changes one more time. Somehow, the "Have a good day" farewell each morning turns into, "Time to make the donuts," or "Another day, another dollar," and eventually. . . silence. Not the kind of silence that is used as a punishment, but the kind that means "I know I'll see you later." Also during this time, the plans of traveling the world with your precious husband is more realistically planned with the other girl. You travel, go to family reunions, talk to one another's family members on the phone, fold eachother's laundry, fill out the other's applications, pack both of you a lunch, buy joint kitchen items, and purchase a Costco membership together. The term "best friend," is no longer appropriate, you have somehow changed into the most dreaded of titles for a single girl in her mid-late 20s . . . partners. Eek.

On a cruise this summer with my family, my own mother panicked in her introduction of Cassie. "Um, this is Cassie, Chelsey's roommate, no, friend, um. . ." So, you may see why our relationship is a bit of a sore spot. Yesterday, Cassie brought to my attention an article in the BYU Alumni Magazine, of which we receive 2 copies, thank you very much. If you are interested in reading the whole article, it's in this month's edition in which there is a terrifying photo of Cosmo in business-casual on the cover. The article is entitled, "THE MIGHTY GIFTS OF BEVERLEY AND RAMONA." Please read the following excerpt and look at the adjoining photo to get an idea as to why both Cassie and I were horrified about the story of two ladies who have helped over 100 "daughters" get a BYU education.

Two frugal friends have blessed the lives of many BYU “daughters.”

Beverley Nalder (BS ’52) admits that, at first, she wasn’t too fond of Ramona Morris (’81). “She was so organized—something I wasn’t,” says Nalder, describing how she met Morris four decades ago on a river raft trip. “But I got over it.” By the end of the excursion, the two had become friends. They later became roommates and eventually bought a home together.

“As the years have gone by, we have sort of met in the middle,” Nalder says. “Her friendship has been the dearest blessing in my life.”

The companionship has blessed more lives than two. Neither woman has ever married or had children, but together they have scrimped and saved to help more than 100 “daughters” gain an education at BYU.

“We never travel first class,” says Nalder, explaining how she, a retired BYU professor and counselor, and Morris, a retired high school counselor, manage to fund several scholarships each year. “We keep our cars a long time, and we make do with the same old television by having a converter box rather than buying a new television. We even delay repairing a light in the kitchen if we can use the money a better way.”

“We take cruises,” Morris adds, “but we always get inside staterooms without windows. I suppose we could have a cabin with a window and a balcony, but the extra money could be used for others. Besides, we figure we would only be in the room for sleeping.”

After some discussion, it was decided that I am Beverly (right) and Cassie is Ramona (left).

Classic

I can't help it. I can't help it, but this picture cracks me up. Pictured below are two of my nieces- sisters. The littler one in the front, Bella, is celebrating her third birthday. The older one in the back, Lexi, is obviously a little jealous.

P.S. Someone please give me this horse for my birthday this year. I love a Palomino.

I did great.

Yesterday I was a baby. Today I am a toddler. At this rate, tomorrow I will be going to school. I am of course referring to my brief staycation from work for some routine Oral Surgery yesterday. What a girl will do to lie on a couch all day. Sheesh. I will admit that although there are some serious drawbacks to oral sedation, i.e. zero hand-eye coordination, quadruple vision, and narcolepsy, it has been quite nice to revisit my childhood with a stay at Susan's.

But the good news is, I did great! At least that is what Dr. Dave and his assistant told me several times during the procedure, and a few more times as I was being wheeled to the front door, only to get up and do my best impression of someone failing a roadside DUI test. For the life of me, I can't figure out what I could have done under the influence of such high-powered meds that would have deserved a "not-so-great" rating from my dentist. Standing up, yelling out, physicality, who knows really? I pretty much slept the entire time and had one humiliating scene where I tried to peel the nail polish off of one of my fingers, but couldn't seem to get my left hand to navigate to my right. So, although the compliments were unwarranted, I'll take 'em.

Of course, I was brought home by my loving mother, who reveled at the chance to treat me like a baby, while I reveled at the chance to let her. Movies all afternoon and evening. Ice cream breaks on the half hour. And more recently, a run to the store to pick me up some pinwheels. Thanks mom. I guess it's all reward for doing such a great job. Now tomorrow, I will be all growed up again.

Best Night Ever!

The title of this post is actually stolen from a facebook status I read moments ago. The reason I was shocked by this particular status is that it is obviously referring to New Year's Eve. And while I guess that seems to make perfect sense, at the same time I'm not sure that I have ever had a NYE (commonly-used facebook abbreviation) that could be described as a "Best Night Ever!" Don't get me wrong, it's a perfectly fine celebration, full of tradition and songs about Auld Lang, but I usually find myself wanting the night to provide a certain degree of magic that is inevitably impossible. I mean, besides J LO's onesie on Dick Clark.

Truthfully, the responsibility is mine. While the "Best Night Ever!" status was alarming on it's own accord, what really upset me is that I ran into this person at the NYE party I attended last evening. A party that from an anthropological perspective was quite interesting (handsome men performing practiced "funny" dance moves, girls in cocktail dresses with mini top hats and other fascinating realities of being in the "single scene"), it failed to meet my apparently high expectations for a holiday that has never really come through. Obviously, I wasn't looking with the right lenses on. You see, I neglected to be excited by the free Starbursts and plethora of men handling my waist as they passed by, and instead chose to be bothered by not knowing anyone on a crowded dance floor, whilst girls chose to crowd surf for boys' attention.

So, here's to a new year and a new attitude. Now, let us all pray that I can spend next NYE with my husband, on a couch, eating red hots and watching the Ball drop on Eastern Standard time. Don't cry mom.

Merry Christmas from an American Girl

Mom, I'm sorry for the following, but it is fact and I still love you very much and very much enjoyed my childhood.

Every Christmas, I had two requests for Santa Claus (I believed in him to a uncomfortably old age all thanks to a hoax letter post marked from the North Pole in 1993). One was for a Power Wheels, preferably a Jeep, but I wasn't picky. This wish ended in 6th grade when my mother explained that I was over the 80 lbs. weight limit, so it was useless to keep asking. However, each year I received wonderful presents, including a few bikes from time to time. So be it that some of them were used or were accompanied by elaborate stories, like the year Santa got lost and I woke up on a February morning to find my new bike sitting in my bedroom. So, I wasn't deprived, but I learned the most valuable lesson you can teach a child, which is, you don't always get what you want. Unless you went to TimpView High School, in which case the opposite is true. ha.

Besides a Power Wheels, there was always one other wish in mine and my sister Lacy's letters to Santa that never seemed to make it under the tree. We always got dolls, partly because my mom loved dolls as much as we did. But, I'll admit that I was a little disappointed the year we got Cabbage Patchs and mine was a Hispanic with glasses named Tina, she was on sale. Of course my wish list doll never went on sale and she has yet to go on sale to date. She has always cost $88 and that's how much my parents were unwilling to pay for an American Girl Doll. But, they were willing to give us the paperback books that told the stories of each of the girls, so we are well-versed in the world of American Girl, but alas I never owned my own. So, this year, I dedicate these photos to Chelsey of 1990-1996. Whoever said that dreams don't come true?

Should I have interests?

There aren't a lot of tasks that stress me out, mostly because I'm an extremely capable human. But, for some reason, after I graduated from middle school, there has been one task that continually makes my stomach churn . . . filling out questionnaires. Not the kind that my dentist sends me via email, where I check "Strongly Agree" to every unread question in order to get a $20 rebate towards my next cleaning. No, what I'm referring to are the ones that ask me about the one thing I should know everything about . . . myself.

It seems simple enough, just list your favorite color, band, candy bar, soda, time of day, over-the-counter stimulant, you know, the basics. Usually, I can come up with decent answers that reflect what I know to be popular with most teenagers. Consequently, most of those answers have very little resemblance to my actual favorites. Since, apparently on paper, I am a social outcast. Turns out that if you list Alanis Morrisette’s “Jagged Little Pill” as your favorite CD, you may be labeled as “unhip” or worse, “Lesbian.” And, if you admit that you prefer Baby Ruth to Skittles, people might guess the truth. The truth being that I am prematurely old. Favorite breakfast item: A handful of Peanut M&Ms. These kinds of answers are ultimately appalling to my counterparts in the R.E.I. co-op. Unfortunately, I become sheepish anytime the age-old analogy about jumping off a bridge comes up. The answer remains the same as it has always been . . . probably.

But, as we all know, these kinds of questionnaires never just ask about surface items like music and food, no, they usually get much deeper, and consequently, more painstaking. The kinds of questions that cripple me are the kinds that reveal anything about my actual life. The worst of them being . . . hobbies. I don’t know about the rest of the adult world, but I haven’t really had a hobby since 6th grade. Back then I could list Basketball, Softball, and Cross Stitching (don’t forget, prematurely old) without a second thought. This was before high school, before anything you loved was destroyed. Playing sports in high school helped to remove any fun that was associated with physical exercise and replace it with dread anytime I smell gym floors or Endorphins. But, it’s a crime to be hobby-less in today’s world. Frankly, even I can’t account for my time most of the time. The Chelsey of the 21st Century prefers napping, channel flipping, snacking, and having the same conversations with the same friends over and over. To my shame, none of these activities are considered “Hobbies.”

So, for honesty’s sake, here’s a questionnaire that hasn’t been edited for the general audience. I’ve included both my fake and real responses:

Why were you given your particular name?

Fake: Spiritual prompting

Real: It was Mother’s turn to choose.

How many brothers and sisters do you have?

Fake: 3 brothers and 3 sisters

Real: This could get uncomfortable, since 2 of my brothers live in Heaven, but I’ll stick with 3 brothers and 3 sisters.

What is your favorite thing to do?

Fake: Snowboard, Wakeboard, or anything adventurous.

Real: Nap, snack, or watch reality TV on MTV

What is your favorite food?

Fake: Salmon and the fruit of the season

Real: Chocolate Cake, preferably refrigerated.

What is your favorite book?

Fake: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Real: Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (sorry Mom)

What is your favorite candy bar?

Fake: Twix

Real: Charleston Chew (more candy for your dime)

What is your favorite cookie?

Fake: Something from Pepperidge Farms

Real: Pinwheels

What is your favorite sport?

Fake: Basketball

Real: Freeze Tag

What is your favorite kind of music?

Fake: Indy Rock

Real: Top 40 from 1994-1999 or Country

What is your favorite song?

Fake: Penny Lane by the Beatles

Real: Hold On by Wilson Phillips or Fancy by Reba McIntire

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Fake: A teacher

Real: Lay-at-home wife to someone wealthy

What is your favorite temple?

Fake: Oakland

Real: Don’t have a favorite

What place would you like to know about?

Fake: Where can I begin?

Real: Colorado City

What place would you like to visit?

Fake: Bangkok

Real: Nordstrom Rack or Colorado City

What is your favorite thing about your mom?

Fake: Her kindness

Real: That she laughs at my inappropriate humor

What is your favorite thing about your dad?

Fake: His humor

Real: His ability to sneak into Football games for free

What is your favorite thing about yourself?

Fake: My ability to give advice

Real: My ability to make up funny nicknames

Do you like to dance?

Fake: For excercise

Real: At parties to be funny

What movie can you quote?

Fake: Newsies

Real: Muppets Family Christmas, Muppet Christmas Carol, Home Alone, While you Were Sleeping, The Santa Clause, Steel Magnolias, Beaches, and Blue Crush

How would your friends describe you to someone who has never met you?

Fake: Cool

Real: Emotionally distant

In five years, what kind of person will you be?

Fake: Successful

Real: The same

What do you want to be doing in five years?

Fake: Whatever makes me happy

Real: Giving singles advice about marriage

When you have an hour of free time, what do you like to do?

Fake: Read

Real: Watch TiVo

What is your favorite church movie?

Fake: Lamb of God

Real: Labor of Love

What is the strangest thing you've ever done?

Fake: Went to bed without washing my face.

Real: Spoke at the funeral of a woman I didn’t know.

Family Armor

Set your TiVos for Thursday, November 19th at 8:00PM MST on TLC to bask and revel in the stardom of my sisters (Courtney and Lacy) and their families. "Family Armor" will quite naturally be the most successful Reality T.V. show since Darva Conger said "I do" on "Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire?" back in 2000. The show's description showed up last night on the network's website, so take a gander.

One can only hope that a guest appearance from yours truly will end in a barrage of eager suitors/divorcees. Fingers crossed.

Here's a link to the show's promo: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0UimhuDbJw
Or check out the website: http://familyarmor.tv/