Spring Fever

I have it. Do you?
This photo was taken by the ever talented and ever amazing Chelsea! She's a friend of a friend and a fantastic photographer! Check out her blog!

Cake Wrecks

Yes. This is a cake of a pregnant lady in a blue dress and her baby inside her uterus in amniotic fluid that you can cut right into. Give your very own CESAREAN section!

One of my best friends is expecting a baby this year. If I am in charge of the food for her shower.....I don't know if I'll be able to resist.

If I Were a Lesbian...

I would have a major crush on Tina Fey. Actually, I already do.

Here's some information about her new book that I can't wait to read:

Once in a generation a woman comes along who changes everything. Tina Fey is not that woman, but she met that woman once and acted weird around her.

PRAISE FOR TINA FEY:

"You'd be really pretty if you lost weight." (College Boyfriend, 1990 )

"Tina Fey is an ugly, pear-shaped, overrated troll." (The Internet )

"Mommy, where are my pretzels?" (Tracy Morgan )

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR BOSSYPANTS:

"I hope that's not really the cover. That's really going to hurt sales." (Don Fey, Father of Tina Fey )

"Absolutely delicious!" (A Guy Who Eats Books )

"Totally worth it." (Trees )

"Do not print this glowing recommendation of Tina Fey's book until I've been dead a hundred years." (Mark Twain )

"Hilarious and insightful. Laugh-out-loud funny -- oh no, a full moon. No! Arrgh! Get away from me! Save yourself!" (A Guy Turning into a Werewolf )

   Product Description

Before Liz Lemon, before "Weekend Update," before "Sarah Palin," Tina Fey was just a young girl with a dream: a recurring stress dream that she was being chased through a local airport by her middle-school gym teacher. She also had a dream that one day she would be a comedian on TV.

She has seen both these dreams come true.

At last, Tina Fey's story can be told. From her youthful days as a vicious nerd to her tour of duty on Saturday Night Live; from her passionately halfhearted pursuit of physical beauty to her life as a mother eating things off the floor; from her one-sided college romance to her nearly fatal honeymoon -- from the beginning of this paragraph to this final sentence.

Tina Fey reveals all, and proves what we've all suspected: you're no one until someone calls you bossy.

(Includes Special, Never-Before-Solicited Opinions on Breastfeeding, Princesses, Photoshop, the Electoral Process, and Italian Rum Cake!)

Struck

Here is the trailer. The full 7 minute video can be found here. You'll be glad you watched it.


Many of you may not have seen this. I think you should. It's a short film that says a lot about what I feel like lately. I've been pondering a lot about the healing process. It seems, in life, that I have old wounds and those I date have old wounds and that these wounds make it too difficult for either of us to get close. Like trying to hug with arrows poking through our hearts.


I've been wondering about my own healing process and it's something I've always thought I would have to do on my own, but what if I let people in to help? I've been wondering about other's healing processes. What if I help them heal and then they leave for someone that's not me? That's happened to me before. It's happened to you. We wanted to be the end goal and we ended up being a milestone of healing towards the end goal.


I've decided to stop thinking so much about that and to just focus on healing. On really healing. On healing myself and on doing whatever I can to heal those people I am lucky enough to call friends and family. Because, in the end, I guess it shouldn't be about what they can give me, but about what I can give them. So, I'm ready to give. I've always been ready to give. The thing I'm working on now is also being ready to receive.


I'm struck.

How To Kiss Without Tongue

How do you kiss without tongue? Apparently, I DO NOT know how. At all. I found this out last night when I kissed someone who was too demure (is that the word we want to use?) to USE his tongue. I think it's because I'm one of those people who goes after EVERYTHING she does with such passion and little restraint that when I did start kissing, I just went for it. Yee Haw.

Let me set the scene. There was a man that I was DESPERATELY in love with for most of 2002. I was young and Mormon and in love. I wanted to kiss him and date him and marry him. We did date. And we did hold hands. But, we did not kiss. This sounds weird, I know. This sounds weird, I guess, mostly to non-Mormons. The Mormons reading this post will understand that sometimes people make stupid pacts--like they aren't going to kiss until they are engaged. Or, they aren't going to kiss until they are almost engaged...and the kicker...they aren't going to kiss until the wedding day! (yes, this happens). You see, Mormons are so afraid of breaking any type of chastity law, that they try not to kiss often, they aren't supposed to French kiss or rub up and down against each other in horizontal or vertical positions.

Got it.

Moving on.

Over the years, said boy and I have stayed in touch. Last year we both admitted that we liked one another at the time and we should have kissed and that it was a shame that the golden opportunity passed us by. So, we decided, if we ever saw each other again (he lives far away from me) that we would make out like crazy. This night happened to suddenly arrive last night. We were both going to a lecture up at the local university. He was here for Sundance. He was with people. I was with people. We both had separate plans, but decided to steal away during intermission and make out. Problem was, there was just NO place to go. I scouted out handicap restrooms--none! Since last night was the coldest night Utah has had in my lifetime, we couldn't go outside. Finally, it was decided to meet in the elevator and ride it up and down while kissing.

Yes, I DO feel like I'm 15 while I'm writing this, thanks for asking.

So, we met in said elevator, said hi (we haven't seen each other in about 4 years) and went for it. Up and down (the elevator, sheesh!) and kissing and kissing--but NO TONGUE to be had. It's been about a month since I had a good make out, and I was ready.  I LOVE kissing. LOVE IT. But, this was almost worse than no kiss at all, because this kiss had the chance to be great. Two people. Willing. Two pairs of lips. And one pair WOULDN'T open. Not a bit. At all. I kept gently nudging it--you know, with MY tongue--and nothing. I think it must be because he's still active Mormon? If there is one thing in life I'm pretty solid on, it would be my kissing abilities, but I can't work with lips that won't part! How is this possible? I left the elevator so frustrated that I just sort of beat my head against the door when I got home.

I feel, lately, that I'm the aggressor in most of my interactions with men. I blame this on my age, and my sexual peak. I should probably try and date a 21 year old for the amount of times that I think about sex during a given HOUR. It's THAT bad. The problem is that I now date older men who are focused on their careers, so even when we're dating I have to start taking clothes off in front of them to get them to stop talking about their goals and get down to the real business. TMI? Good. It's my blog. Please let me vent.

The BEST part of the evening came when I was liplocked with the boy in the elevator, and the door opened and a little old Russian lady entered. I gathered she was Russian from her accent. I have a gift with identifying accents. She looked at us as we stood there silently smiling. She eyed us carefully, smiled and then got off at level two. We resumed making out...or, should I say that I resumed TRYING to get SOME satisfaction! Five minutes later, the elevator door opened and the same sweet lady (she must have been 5 foot tall, and the elevator was tiny, and I'm 6 foot tall and he is 6' 4" so--I'm sure we were looming and heaving all over her) entered again. Now, my sensitive skinned face was red, and my hair was askew and all the telltale signs of a tongue-less makeout were there.

She hid a laugh.

Conversation ensued.

Russian Lady (read in accent if you can please)"Ah, you two do the, the date, yes?"

Him "Yes...ma'am."

RL: "Good for you! Good for you! You go at it in the elevator, yes?"

Me: "Um, yes?"

RL: "Good for you! Good for you! Ah, you two remind me about youngness."


So, that was MY evening. All about youngness, and unfortunately--no tongueness.


The End.