Birthday Memories

When I was about 5 years old or so, my parents had a little birthday party for me. I remember sitting in the kitchen with kids from the neighborhood. I remember eating cake and wondering why there were so many kids there.

When I was a couple years older, maybe 7 or 8, I had requested the Barbie Makeup Head. Supposedly it came with real makeup that you could put on and take off. I was very excited when I opened up the present from Mom and Dad and saw the shiny, fake hair and plastic smile of the "life-sized" Barbie head. When I opened the makeup, however, it was also shiny and plastic. This was simply not good and I was heartbroken. I cried and threw a temper-tantrum. I distinctly remember the sadness on Mom's face as she said they couldn't afford the "real-make-up" doll. I went to my room and came back 5 minutes later feeling very contrite about the selfishness of my actions. This birthday memory has haunted me ever since.

When I turned 8, I received my first hair crimper from my cousin. It was pink and marked a life-changing event in the history of my hair. The lovely crimper served me well for the next 15 years. That same day we had a party in my Grandma's backyard, complete with blue tarp slip and slide. Totally worth the bruised knees!

On my 10th birthday, I had a birthday party with my friends from school. I had just discovered the amazing-ness of Moose Bars and boldly told my mother that I did not want ice cream for my party, only Moose Bars. Glorious little treats, I think my mother was actually relived to not serve ice cream.

On one of my pre-teen birthdays (I can't remember which), Grandma came to my house and told me that a good thing to do on my birthday would be to do "A Hundred Pick-up" (also known as cleaning up). I told Grandma that it was my birthday and I didn't want to clean. Then I felt bad and cleaned up anyway. Stupid guilt trips...

On my long-awaited 16th birthday, my friend Marie invited me over to her house. After a couple of hours, she said she had a camp meeting so she had to take me home (she could drive almost an entire year before me). Upon arriving home, I walked into the family room only to be ambushed by all of my friends. It was awesome and the only surprise party I have ever been given. We had water balloons and a pinata and I was overwhelmed by how awesome everyone was. I still love all you guys!

Ten years after my 16th birthday, I am at work, sitting in my office. I am trying to act cool, like today is just any other day, but I really appreciate the special attention my friends, family, and co-workers have shown me. When I arrived this morning at work, I was greeted by the banner and bouquet my co-worker had brought me (she rocks!). All the girls here at work went out to lunch to celebrate and we ate gelato. Around 2:30, everyone from our department came in singing Happy Birthday and making a lot of noise. Most of my siblings have called or texted, and dear friends have sent birthday wishes via phone calls and facebook. And finally, but not least of all, my sweet husband took me shopping yesterday and made sure I was taken care of. So thank you to everyone who made me feel special today on my 26th birthday.

Hopefully we can spend many more birthdays together sharing our friendship and happiness. I love you all!!

Current Emotions

No matter how old I get, it's always hard for me to endure the disappointment that comes from expecting and wanting something so badly, only to find that no matter what you do, you can't have it. Even as an adult, this is difficult. Or maybe, ESPECIALLY as an adult, because I fully recognize the sort of dwindling hope I still have and consequently I have to consciously buoy it up in order to save myself from total despair.

This is made even more unbearable by the realization that what I want is something so many other people have. Something that can be easy to obtain for others, but is seemingly impossible for me.

I feel very vulnerable and inadequate. As I am a firm believer in God and the role he plays in my life, I have to believe that there is a reason for my requests to be denied or postponed. However, I don't know the reason and I feel instead unworthy, not good enough to receive my heart-felt desires. Faith argues to be strong, to wait it out. The natural man inside of me struggles, fighting with logic and asking how long I should wait and why no one has explained it to me.

In a few minutes I will put my smile back on and pretend I have no worries, no sorrows, and no lingering self-doubts, because I have to. I have to keep going, to endure it well.

**Note: This post is not intended to evoke pity or sorrow from the reader, rather it is a self-exploration of emotion. To understand myself better and thus continue to carry on as I have for so long now.

Slightly Hysterical "History" about the American Independence Day

Being an aspiring historian with expertise in Colonial America makes the 4th of July a very interesting holiday. Already knowing all the history and tiny details surrounding our nation's birthday allows me to sit back and watch everyone else who is still attempting to learn that history. In most cases, this turns out to be pretty funny, especially since people generally have a great deal of pride they are trying to protect. One cannot seem weak or unintelligent in today's world, so they pretend and think no one else is smart enough to know the difference.

Entertaining historically inspired situations that enlivened my weekend:

- Turning on the History channel Thursday night I learned that the Masons founded the United States of America and are still working on achieving their "New World Order" which consists of them running the world their way. The sad part of this is that many people think that if it's on the History channel, it must be true. I can only imagine how many conspiracy nuts were created by the airing of this fictional documentary.

- In a separate documentary I also learned the the secret society of the Skull and Bones at Yale is the primary rival of the Masons and that they are far more successful in terms of infiltrating the political system than the Masons currently are. This one might actually be true... ;)

- A guest at a get-together I attended was downright upset when the host said that the 4th of July wasn't as big in her family as the 24th of July. He promptly freaked out and refused to listen to the rational reasons the host was struggling to provide. The real reason why her family (and mine as well) celebrates the 24th more exuberantly is not because of Pioneer Day exactly. It really has to do with the fact that our hometown city celebrates Fiesta Days on the 24th, and boy, as a child that was one of the best days of the year! (I actually told this guy we weren't patriotic just to make him mad...)
*Note to readers: Patriotism is NOT a religion and saying you enjoy a different holiday more than Independence Day is NOT blasphemous, nor should people be offended by it. Personally, I might actually argue that it's blasphemous to be so patriotic.
***For more info on my personal opinions on Independence Day, please refer to my blog post of July 5, 2007.

- Later, this same guest was again upset at my husband (a genius of a historian) when Alexander told him that the 1812 Overture, that annually plays as the background music of the fireworks in DC, was actually written about the war between France and Russia and not the tiny skirmish in the US that happened to be a spill-over from the European War. Quote of the night: "No, it was written by a Russian, but it was about the American War of 1812. That was an important war. Why else would they play it at the fireworks?"
Why indeed? For the record, Alexander and I really hate American-centric thinking. We laughed the whole night home about his assumption that a Russian would care enough about some random new country thousands of miles away to write an entire, beautiful orchestration for it.

- While watching a re-run of the finale of the DC fireworks, the Old Guard Fife and Drum Corps came out to play in typical colonial fashion. They were dressed to the nines in wigs, tricorn hats, and button-up shoes. Their uniforms were spot-on perfect, but they were wearing red coats. In light of the fact that the only thing most Americans know about the colonial British are their "Red Coats" I thought it was slightly funny. When I decided to make a joke about how ironic the outfits were, the same passionate person mentioned above thought it would be a good idea to argue with me. Second quote of the night: "What are you talking about? The Americans were such a rag-tag army that they wore anything they could get their hands on, so you can't say they never wore a redcoat."

Hmm, well, in actuality, the musicians of the army wore opposite colors of the regiments they were assigned (the revolutionaries wore blue accented with red, so the band wore red accented with blue) so the uniforms really were perfect. Despite this (since I doubt he knew this history) his argument is still lacking. While it is probable that the American army wore whatever they could find, if they had picked up a British red coat they probably would have turned the coat inside out so as to guarantee they weren't shot by their own side. Plus, I seriously doubt an entire regiment would be wearing only the red coats that they salvaged off the battlefield. Regardless, in light of the average American's knowledge or colonial uniforms, I still felt validated for making fun of it.

Anyway, despite my semantics and urge to debate, it was a fun weekend and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. We stuffed ourselves to the brim with hamburgers, bratwurst, Kalua pork and snow-cones and went to bed each night happy, contented and worn-out. I need more weekends like this. :)

Four Years Ago Today...

It was a beautiful Saturday and I had talked my boss into letting me get off work early to go to the last day of the Ancient Mediterranean exhibit at BYU. By 3:00 I had pulled into the parking lot and was ready to do some exciting historical studies.

Waiting in line at the ticket booth, I noticed a handsome, blond guy in front of me. He was wearing an expensive green polo style shirt and looked comfortable with his blue backpack in his hand. After paying the $3.00 fee, I walked in and was surrounded by the soft light and hushed voices that seem to always accompany our ancient treasures. I was greeted by archeological finds from Ancient Rome and was quickly immersed into my own personal study of each object on display. Lips pursed and brows knitted together, I barely noticed the people around me. Suddenly, 3 small children rushed by me, delighting in the opportunity to explore and play. Their loud laughter broke my concentration and I realized that I had been following the handsome young man I mentioned earlier. After peering in the same cases at the same time, I felt I should break the silence and acknowledge his existence.

"I don't think all these figurines were used for 'religious purposes'. I bet these were just their action figures."

He was kind enough to laugh and we started talking. I tried to show off a little bit of my historical knowledge when we came up the Minoans section (since I had written a large paper on the Minoans) and was surprised when he knew just as much as me. Further conversation proved that he could correctly pronounce Greek and Egyptian words and knew fascinating tidbits about everything in the entire exhibit. I was impressed and so when he invited me over to his apartment to watch a movie he had made, I agreed.

The movie showed a silly side of this too-good-to-be-true guy and I enjoyed getting to know that aspect of his personality. When it was over, we continued our conversation about anything and everything. Right as I was feeling awkward over whether to stay or go, he asked me out to dinner at PF Chang's. By the time dinner was over, I was clearly head-over-heels for this guy. I didn't want to leave so when he suggested a movie, I quickly accepted. We saw Hitch and laughed so hard we cried. Later we went for a walk around BYU. Surprising both of us, he kissed me in front of the Bell Tower and I knew right then that this was something special.

Seventeen months later on October 1st, 2006, the cute blond guy took me up Provo Canyon to Nunn's Park and proposed to me. We were later married on January 5, 2007.

Although it is not our wedding anniversary, I have always considered June 4 to be a very special day for me. It was the day I was blessed to meet my sweetheart, Alexander, and the day we unofficially started our life together. So, thank you darling for these 4 years of bliss and happiness. I will love you forever!

Bridal Etiquette: Chapter 1

The day dawned with a glorious light, deceiving me into thinking it would be a marvelous day. I awoke early, anxious to finish my big task of sewing table runners. The morning sun peeked through my living room curtains and the machine stitched away as I watched a revival of Saturday morning cartoons eerily familiar to those I watched 20 years ago. Strawberry Shortcake and Transformers graced the TV bringing back forgotten memories of childhood.

The revelry collapsed with the last stitch and reality crashed back as I rushed to accomplish everything I had to do. The next hour was comprised of running up and down the stairs to and from the basement to make sure everything was remembered, put in a box and checked off the clever inventory list I had created the day before. With the last wire and lantern in place we continued with our duties. Running to K-mart in desperation, I found the perfect black button-up shirts for all three of my employees (the boys) and ran to finish loading the trailer.

By 1:00 we were on the road to Salt Lake City, ready to conquer another wedding. However, the traffic was against us and we didn't arrive until nearly 3:00. My poor boys carried 8 heavy pillars up two flights of stairs. Luckily, the other things fit in the elevator. We rushed to put up two backdrops, hang lanterns, put on chair covers and ties and set up the chocolate fountains.

At 6:00 the reception was set to begin. As I was adjusting the chocolate fountains, I glanced over at the main floor, only to see a member of the bridal party attempting to move the backdrop back a foot. I recoiled in horror as my carefully crafted waves of fabric and yellow drape were pulled apart, leaving the pillars stripped, like bare bones. Running across the room, my frustration evident on my face, I approached the bride.

"What is going on?!"
"My dance floor isn't big enough. I need a bigger dance floor"
"Couldn't you have moved the tables back?" To this I received a blank stare. "Well, it's broken now, I have to fix it."
"Well, I didn't like where it was, so I had to move it....." She continued on her selfish mumbling as she sauntered towards a bridesmaid who would probably assure her that moving the backdrop one foot back was the right thing to do.

Tears stung my eyes as I grabbed my duct tape, the only tool available to me, and began my attempt to hurriedly fix the sad disaster. Behind me I could hear the bride exclaiming that her reception was supposed to start 10 minutes ago. Thoughts of frustration and hurt whirled through my eyes threatened to spill down my cheeks in the form of tears. I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept working. When it looked mostly decent, I ran back to the fountains to ensure they were running correctly.

And now to the bright spot of the evening: the chocolate fountains ran perfectly. Even when they were low on chocolate, the rivers ran evenly down the sides in a lovely cascade of brown satin. The only thing missing was the other food. I had not been contracted to do any of the dipping food. I looked around for one of the surplus bridesmaids and inquired as to who was in charge of the other food.

"Oh, uh...I don't think anyone is. We just thought, that, it would...kinda happen..."
Kinda happen? Really? It was immediately evident that they had expected me to do all the food. The bridesmaids huddled and realized that they were the only ones who would do it, so they scuttled off to the kitchen where Alexander was melting chocolate.

Please imagine your most typical valley girl voice direct at my patient husband: "Aren't you the caterer? Why aren't you working? None of this food is done!"

"Actually, I'm a decorator and I'm melting chocolate. We were not contracted to do any of the other food besides the fountains."

Finally, the food was brought up on platters by girls with scowls on their faces. Such lovely girls. We soon realized that they didn't have anyone clearing tables either, which flabbergasted me. It wasn't my job, but I decided to help, so I cleared off the tables and attempted to make the situation better.

When it came time to dance, no one but the bride was interested, so she kept going up to the DJ and telling him to announce different dances that would make people dance. "And now, for the dance of the bridesmaids and the groomsmen to dance together..... And now for the dance for the bridal party that everyone must dance...." etc. It was sort of hilarious. I could have promised her that no one would dance, but some brides insist on everything being exactly the way they imagine it.

I have decided that I really must write a book about bridal etiquette spiced up with excerpts of my exciting job. Does anyone else have any funny stories about wedding etiquette gone wrong?

All in a Day's Work

I am exhausted, but very proud of myself. I did a wedding today that had a new, very difficult feature. It had a dropped ceiling, and it actually looked good. It took a massive amount of time to figure out exactly what would be the best way to put it all up, but in the end we did an excellent job. The credit really should go to my best brothers, Bryce and Tyler who spent a good 5 hours working on the project with me. New things always take time to learn, and now that we know what we are doing we can cut the time in half for next time.

I am really excited to have a new product to offer my clients, and I feel that I can now have a really competitive edge. While I was putting the finishing touches on the room, the woman with the cake came. She looked around at the decorations and was really impressed. She told me that she is getting married in August and she loved my decorations so she got my name and phone number and promised to call. Awesome!

Anyway, tell me what you think!

Yay for Spring Bridal Fairs!

On Saturday I was able to participate in my fourth bridal fair. Like all the fairs before it, I suffered from lack of sleep and mild insanity. It seemed like everything was against me last week. I started out sick and behind the game, and I never really caught up. However, everything worked out.

I decided to play with the same color scheme as the last fair mostly because I love it so much. I decided that this was the only time I really got to do something fun my way, so I lived it up. I used the teal blue and lime green and added a touch of summer with dashes of coral. Oh how I loved it! I also tried out a different look with the backdrop and I liked the end result. Apparently my booth was one of those love it or hate it things, because one really rude girl exclaimed very loudly about how ugly it was. Oh well, I don't accept clients like that anyway.

We had a blast throughout the day. I was able to do some much needed networking with other vendors and, of course, met some awesome couples. I am very pleased with the end result and now I have my work cut out for me as I line up consultations and work out the crazy summer schedule.

Here are some pictures of the booth:





I was very proud of this one, as I put it together all by myself :)