Tuesday, April 24, 2018
Monday, April 23, 2018
|BEST IDEA EVER!|
After the second flood hit Mama Joye's household (how many Family home evenings do you know where the topic was how to turn off the water heater and the mainline water to the house? The final answer? Two.) the house has suffered.
The latest incident the kitchen was the victim.
RIP 1996 Blonde Oak Kitchen. We knew you too well.
Anyway the point of this post is the glorious discovery by the floor people.
See everything in the kitchen had to be moved. Including appliances. So when I brought in the mail the other day I saw this miracle. I mean at first I went wow. We really have gone white trash in the last few months.
I saw the possibilities. It's so simple. Walk in and what do you see? The thing you care most about. The food. In a hurry? Run in and grab something real quick.
Truthfully I can't believe that Johanna Gaines has not seen the potential of this idea. I mean it's golden. It's avocado and harvest gold appliances all over again! I'd swipe right and I mean after the last tinder date that's high praise.
Plus it's been fun to watch the Mama meltdown(I'm joking it's been hard) as her house is slowly but surely condensed into the living room and her bed room. The other night I went over and I half way expected them to be in the bedroom with a hot plate and a can of soup.
So for all of those of you who are on Pinterest pin this like now. I mean don't you want to be the first one on top of this new trend? Be the trend setter not the one that gets the travertine tile right when its on its way out. Same with those weird leather couches that look like they are going to punch you halfway across the room.
I've seen the future my friends. It's beautiful and it all starts with fridges in the front hallway.
Just remember to cite that you got it here first.
Friday, April 20, 2018
Wanna see a magic trick?
Take tired, paunchy and hairy.
This is the joys of when you have the Koebner effect! Basically I couldn't shave cause each shave created more plaques of psoriasis. Cause you know what's fun. Let's have an autoimmune disease that declares war on your face!
That screams sexy right? I mean love me love my flaking crazy hyperactive skin cells right?
Which brings me to my magic act.
I worked really really really hard on it.
Ta-da! Now To not freak out every time I look in the mirror.
Thursday, April 19, 2018
My life lately
Several months ago I went to a new doctor to get my thyroid under control. For those of you playing the at home game several years ago my thyroid decided that it wasn't in the mood to work anymore. Which lead to all sorts of issues (i.e. psoriasis, super weight gain (the regular weight gain I claim.) and all other things we don't talk about in polite society. 2018 was the year I was going to get that shiz under control.
Between the chemotherapy it was decided to go on hormone replacement therapy as my levels were extremely low. With that order off it went.
Well. There was a little whoopsie.
Just a titch.
When you go on hormone replacement therapy it raises your estrogen as well so you have to take a blocker so that you don't develop man boobs and or other complications.
Guess what the pharmacy forgot to give me.
So I've been a hormonal mess for the last three months. After working in mammography for four years I always joked I got silver status in understanding women.
I think I've achieved Gold status.
So when I found myself sobbing like deep ugly crazy sobbing that Lorelai broke up with Luke with Chris*(*this didn't deserve a spoiler alert cause you've had like 15 years.Statute of limitations. So that's on you. Just saying.) Oh and the hot flashes.
Can we talk about the mother loving hot flashes?
Seriously. Like fires of Mordor hot at three a.m. every morning. Sitting in meetings and having to go make out with the ice machine. The worst. Absolute worst. I've gone through so many sheets. TMI I know. However when it's freezing cold in January and you are sleeping with all windows open and the fan on you know you've got a "problem". On the plus side though my power bill has never been lower! Look at me saving energy.
I'm writing this as an apology to all of you that had to deal with the dramatic, weepy, hand wringing, hormonal, pukey Blake. I'm sorry if I was horribly rude or self centered the last few months.
But in my defense I had an excuse.
Thankfully I had Gilmore Girls and bread to get me through.
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
|RIP N98899 VF|
Barbara Bush passed away last night after a long illness. Why the picture of the old twin prop N98899VF is because my Grandma Dar would hold on to the little metal handle on the top stepping down and do what she called the Barbara Bush wave. She may have only called it that once but she said the former first lady did this little wave coming off Air force one and that's what I remember.
The Cessna 310 plane was our family's Air Force One. It flew us all over the place. It was essentially the Farr Station wagon. I've been feeling a little overly sentimental (side effect of chemo and a forgotten estrogen blocker with hormone replacement therapy. More on that tomorrow.) but I'm writing this tonight thankful that our family station wagon was a little unconventional. I would give anything right now to sit in those ugly brown corduroy seats in the very back seat and look out the window and play the llama game* with my grandma and cousins. To look out the window and see the great Salt Lake and the lava flows of Idaho below. I always took the best naps in the plane something about the white noise of the props and the gentle dips of the air pockets and the sun would come through the window like a warm blanket.
That moment of anticipation of barrelling down the runway wondering if we would truly take off and feeling that moment of lift. Do you know how magical that was to say that as a kid I could actually fly? Granted it was in a plane but still it gave me that feeling of lift between the earth and the sky.
The moment when we landed and unloaded the suitcases in the Cadillac Eldorado and seeing my grandpa pull the two small bags from the nose. The blue Wilson gym bag and the maroon nylon bag. His and Grandma's cause they never needed much when we went up to their home in Sun Valley Idaho.
Travel light. That's what you have to remember when you fly in a small prop plane. Travel light cause each pound matters. As we aged our placement changed in what seats we sat in to keep it balanced.
In this moment as my life is changing (Later. All the details later.) I keep that in mind. Travel light and stay balanced.
So I'm unburdening myself of old ideas about myself. Old ideas that I wasn't worthy. Unloveable. Shameful. To be ashamed of my talents. Not stand up for myself. To hide. After years of being unbalanced I'm finding stability. Cause while the Farr station wagon is no more it's lessons linger on.
Travel light and stay balanced.
And for once again for the first time in a very long time I'm beginning to lift between the earth and the sky.
*The llama game was a game we invented in the Eldorado and plane on the way to and from Sun Valley. There was a llama farm we would pass on our way to and from the house. So my Grandma would say on the way in I'm going to take my llama to the bookstore. Then someone else in the car would go I'm going to take my llama on a hike etc. Then on they way home we would go I took my llama to and list all the fun things we did on our trip.*
Tuesday, April 17, 2018
|Me being Artsy with My Phone|
Why I Meditate:
I didn't ever plan on being a person who meditates. While I loved the image of me wearing LULULEMON pants and sitting in the lotus position with a big smile on my face, the reality was whenever I sat down my legs fell asleep, I was never wearing LULU, and I couldn't smile longer than five minutes because I felt so awkward grinning at myself.
So I would half heartedly try a guided YOUTUBE meditation video and fall asleep and claim I meditated. Till three years ago when I had finally retired from mammoland and was looking for something to calm down all the anger, sadness, and rage I was feeling in my life. So took a class that was offered from work by a certified guided meditation coach and guru.
The hardest part of meditation is the learning that it is not the absence of thought you are seeking but rather the ability to filter through what comes up and not engage with them but rather acknowledge them and let them go. Easier said than done. For the first and most of my meditation sessions go like this.
Okay. Deep breaths.
Brain (In a valley girl accent/Cher Horowitz style): So I was like totally thinking that person was like buggin yesterday and OMG have you seen your bathroom? Like grossville!
Me: Yes all valid points but you see I'm trying to not engage with you at the moment.
Brain: That's like totally valid and I admire you for like your serious dedication and stuff but may I remind you its like super early and I don't do super early cause according to O Magazine you need like 8 hours of sleep and it's like 4:15 am.
Me: Thanks for reminding me brain. I'm very aware it's 4:30 am. But let's not focus on that shall we?
Picture that on a constant loop for 45 min to an hour. However sometimes when I when I'm able to be really gentle with myself and rise above I'm able to reach a higher plane of thought.
Recently asked me why I meditate. The best answer I have come up with is that prayer is the state of asking. Whether you believe in God, a higher power, the universe, or even yourself it is the act of humbling yourself to ask the questions that are bothering you. To say the problems or joys in your soul. Meditation is the other side of the coin. It is the listening. The act of silencing yourself enough to be able to hear the voice or feeling to answer the question you asked.
Guess which one I do better at?
Yet while I go through all this change I'm grateful I take just a brief minute of the day to meditate in order to gather myself for the day. You don't have to sit in a lotus in LULU I have learned. You just have to learn to sit with yourself.
And that is the biggest gift of all.
Monday, April 16, 2018
|My life motto.|
Dear married and/or people in committed relationships, I'm writing you this letter to let you know that last Monday I took one for the team. If you have had illusions of what the single life is like let me tell you how glamorous it really is.
Earlier this year when I was at home dying of the chemo(NOT FOR CANCER!) I realized that all my friends were people I'd made from high school or USU. Which is totally awesome but I'd essentially had become a recluse. Yay for social isolation! This year my goal has been to be more brave as it is expanding on my word from the year before of freedom. So I made a rule that I can't no to any social occasion that I can attend.
Enter in Tinder.
(Yes. Blake does Tinder.)
After figuring the whole swiping thing I finally had a match! And it wasn't someone who wasn't super crazy and had a funny sense of humor. So last Sunday I got a message: (From the transcript)
Tinder Date: Hey I know this is forward but I would love to get to know you better want to meet up for drinks tonight?
Me: I don't drink but I can get a water or a coke or something but I would love to meet you too.
Tinder Date: Great! Want to meet at the Hotel Bigelow at 7?
Me: Perfect. See you then.
(Side note: I only agreed for Sunday because I was dressed cute from a baby blessing and my Grandpa always says you don't get a second chance for a first impression so when you know you look good you go with it.)
Showing up five minutes early I sat there at the bar and ordered a water.
7:05. No sign. Okay well maybe they got held up in traffic.
7:15. No sign, no text. Well maybe I got confused. Sent a text of hey you said the Hotel Bigelow right? No answer.
7:30 No sign, no text, no phone call now on coke and a water. Well maybe the right time? Send another text of hello? Nothing. Zip.
7:45 No sign, no text, no phone call, two cokes and 3 waters and a bartender giving me the oh honey look. I send one more text of guess you aren't coming.
7:50 No sign, no texts, no phone call and the realization that bar cokes are lot more expensive than McDonald Cokes I pay the bartender and go home.
Monday afternoon 3:45 pm:
Sitting at work when my phone buzzes.
Hey I'm so sorry about Sunday I had a personal emergency and I thought I had texted you to let you know but obviously I didn't. I would love to make it up to you. I'm a chef and would love to make you dinner tonight if you are free.
Me: Hey I'm glad you are okay. I thought I got stood up. Yeah that would be great what time and restaurant?
Tinder Date: Actually I'm not working tonight it will be at my house. Are you okay with that?
Me: I'm okay with it if you are comfortable with it. Do you need me to bring something?
Tinder Date: I think it would be fine. Let's say 7? My place? Address...
Me: Great see you then!
Monday night 6:55. The residence.
After using the google maps (seriously what did we do without the google?) I arrive.
Knocking on the door we have the awkward conversation while I look at the decor (early stage hoarder) and after awhile they go okay let's have dinner. So we go to the dining room where we proceed to have ICEBERG LETTUCE SALAD WITH GRATED CARROT and a small BIT OF RED PEPPER. With the choice of dressing being RANCH or RANCH.
I'm going rant for a moment. NO CHEF in their right mind would serve iceberg lettuce in their kitchen alone without some mixed romaine lettuce, spinach and would not have a little bit of carrot. But sitting there eating this water in a bowl I think okay well we are all guilty upselling ourselves a little bit.
Then we get to dinner.
DAY OLD STOUFFERS LASAGNA cold on the counter and reheated in the microwave. Frozen solid in the middle. I love lasagna but I don't claim to be a chef when I make it. But I do make it in the oven vs. the microwave. Just saying.
After eating the warm bits this lovely thing drops from their mouth.
"Let me tell you why the Mormons are wrong".
I'm sure my eyebrows went up into my scalp but I take a deep breath and go that's an interesting position where did you grow up.
After several attempts of steering the conversation to anything, the weather, Golden Girls, and even politics they kept on blathering on.
Finally I had enough. Standing up I go I'm going to leave and here's why first for making me look like a giant jackass last night for standing me up and second for not changing the topic when you can clearly see that I'm not interested in leaving my church. The fact that you won't drop it is extremely rude and feels deeply inappropriate. Taking a step forward I tripped over the cat.
Let's milk that one again. I tripped over the cat and fell flat on my face. Not even like the graceful to the knees we are talking full on on the floor face first in fur. Standing up brushing the cat hair off of me I go and if you want to know why you are single I make a big hand circular gesture (no I didn't flip them off) and went this. ALL OF this. I'd explain it to you but I don't think you would get it.
And I walked out.
So dear married people and/or committed relationship folks have illusion that single life is better please refer back to this post.