Mom's the Word

Okay, this is very, very serious and it is of utmost importance. You have a mission, people. My brother and sister entered this contest for Dairy Queen. They made a commercial, and it was one of 24 chosen to compete in the final contest. You HAVE GOT TO GO VOTE for this video, so they can win...wait for it...a Mini Cooper! Seriously! So, Step One: Go to the video on YouTube. Step Two: Laugh your butts off. Step Three: Follow the link under the video to VOTE FOR THEIR SUBMISSION! (Or you can just click here). Step Four: Share it with all your friends on Facebook by allowing it to post on your wall. They only have one more week to rack up as many votes as possible. They legitimately have the best video, so they def deserve to win! Please go vote every day!!!!

So Mother's Day. I personally had a great Mother's Day, despite not being a mother. My parents and my brother and I met up with my aunts and cousins and grandma to have some brunch to celebrate. And the hostess walked up to each woman and, all cheery-like, asked "Are YOU a mother?!" She got to me and started to hand me the congratulatory carnation, and I said "Nope" and without missing a beat, she spun on her heels and moved on. Well, forgive me for wasting your time, lady... But brunch was lovely. It was fantastic to be together. And big ups to my 93 year-old grandma who got a cell phone from my dad as a gift and actually USED it! Yay! When we were leaving, Perek said to her "Just hit me up on my cell." She definitely lol'd.

The big news, though, was the fact that my dad - he did a GREAT job shopping this Mother's Day! - surprised my mom with a new red Mustang convertible.

The reason why this is so significant is because my mom currently drives this kind of car:

Yeah. So now she finally has a car that isn't the size of a garage for normal sized cars. Her reaction was priceless when my dad brought her outside to meet her new car. She laughed, she screamed, she demanded to know where her VAN was...old habits die hard I guess. (For the record, she's still going to have the van, though Lord only knows why...) So we piled in the new convertible and drove to brunch. It was like 45 degrees. Perek and I were in the back. It was cold. But we got a thumbs up from a dude on a motorcycle, so that made it all very much worth it.

My mom definitely deserved a super fun, all-out Mother's Day. She's a totally bomb mom. She's had five kids and looks better than she did twenty years ago (which is majorly awesome, considering her hubby is a plastic surgeon and she's officially had NO work done. Big time props for that!) She's always supportive, she's funny, she's kind, and overall is a genuine hero of mine. And remembering how nasty I was as a pre-teen (and teenager, and young adult, and adult), I am awed by her ability to not only look past my many indiscretions, but to help me learn from them and become a better person. I feel like the luckiest kid in the world.

Happy Mother's Day to my mom and to all the moms out there who have seen more poopy diapers than anyone really ever should, and who, despite many sleepless nights, still manage to get up and teach their kids to be good people. You are all heroes in my book! Not that I'm looking to follow your lead any time soon, but still. Thanks for all the good work you've done this and every year, Mom! Words can't express how extremely awesome you are. Now, here's my best attempt at some "motherly advice" to my own mother. "You better not let me catch you driving even ONE mile an hour over the speed limit in that hot rod, missy! And don't forget to get oil changes every 3,000 miles. Oh, and I'll probably need to borrow that car to cruise the lakes at some point this summer. Thanks!" I love you, Mom!

Happy Mother's Day!

The Ol' Switcheroo

Another Sunday, another day spent recovering from the weekend. Mercifully, all my roommates were gone on Friday night, leaving me to my own devices. I did everyone a big favor by attempting to pass all "hard" songs on Dance Central. On Saturday, I shopped 'til I dropped (finding adorable Polo rain boots for like 80% off the original $120 price tag) and then prettied up and went to Lana's St. Patrick's Day party. Irish Car Bomb cupcakes? Yes please! I had a great time meeting new people and drinking my weight in Finnegan's and whiskey. After a quick recovery brunch date with Kim this morning, I found myself camped out on my couch watching movies. (And wearing my rain boots. Seriously, they are so adorable.) Between the head throbs and overall achy body, I managed to watch two movies today. Job well done, I say.

In an effort to share my film savvy with you, I've decided give you a full movie synopsis and analysis of the critically underrated and ignored film, The Switch starring the timeless Jennifer Aniston and totally lovable Jason Bateman. Why didn't this movie get better reviews? Seriously, it's totally watchable and very entertaining. Without further ado, I give you: The Switch.

Scene opens to a homeless man with Tourette's syndrome yelling at people on a NYC street "Seven Years Ago". Jason Bateman - a.k.a. Wally - passes by him and take great offense to the homeless man's repetitive comment that he's a "beady-eyed man boy". Sad. Poor Jason Bateman and his beady eyes. But he meets up with Jennifer Aniston - a.k.a. Kassie - for a friendly lunch or something. We learn that Aniston is a self-sufficient, normal human being, and Bateman is a hypochondriac who doesn't like to take chances and doesn't want to be a real adult. They've been besties for lots of years. Now, if When Harry Met Sally taught us anything, it's that men and women cannot have a platonic friendship. So, duh, we know immediately Wally and Kassie won't be "friends" at the end of this particular flick.

Then Aniston drops a big bomb on Bateman. She's a strong, independent woman, and her baby clock is a-tickin'. She's going sperm shopping. After telling Bateman he's too "neurotic" to procreate, Aniston begins her search for the perfect, uh, charitable giver. Because it's a rom-com, Kassie has the wacky best friend (Juliette Lewis) and a weird list of stipulations for her upcoming donor. Lewis throws Aniston a very weird party to celebrate the impregnation of her bff.

Here's where the movie lost me a bit. Wally suddenly feels jealous about this whole situation. Because Kassie is weird, she invites the donor to her "I'm Getting Pregnant" party where he's going to make his, uh, contribution. Yeah, like, RIGHT AT THE PARTY. Anyway, Wally meets the guy who is allegedly "handsome" (though I didn't get it), and is all confused about his wacky feelings toward his little bestie's decision to use this guy's DNA to make a kidlet. He gets super drunk at the party, and stumbles into the wrong bathroom. There, in a little cup is the boy part of the upcoming baby omelet. Bateman, not knowing what to do with his crazy mushy feelings, and is suddenly the MOST impulsive person ever, switches his OWN secret recipe with the poor donor dudes. Get it? The Switch?!

Whoops, Bateman is soooooo totally hungover the next day. He doesn't remember anything because he just can't hold his liquor. So life continues as normal. Aniston gets pregnant, and moves back to Minnesota (w00t!) to be with her family. Their friendship is basically over because technology apparently sucks 7 years ago and they don't stay in touch. Tear.

Okay, back to present day. Hey, guess what! Kassie's coming back to NYC! Bateman is cautiously stoked. He gets all gussied up and goes to meet Kassie and her son - the stupidly named Sebastian - for lunch. This kid, I swear, is hysterical. He's adorable. He's articulate. He's so sad, though, that he doesn't really know his dad. Then, shocker! We find out he's all neurotic and a hypochondriac, just like another certain adorable man-child in the film. Odd.

Anyway, Sebastian decides he really connects with Uncle Wally, even though he hates every other person in the world. Despite his original aversion to rugrats, Wally finds himself really drawn to Sebastian too. BUT WHY!? Okay, so then the other weird part happens. Kassie reconnects with the man who she thinks holds the other half of Sebastian's DNA. That's right. She starts dating the donor dude. Wally is upset at this, because, hey! He loves Kassie now and he's just realized it, even though we've known that for like the entirety of the movie.

Meanwhile, Wally has some random epiphany which results in his remembering what he did on that one night seven years ago. Then comes a lot of "Hey, wait a minute. I can't...this means...that couldn't be...but...whaaaaaaaaaaaa?" Cut back to all the shenanigans of the cute kid. He's all adorable and inquisitive and just a mini little Bateman. Awww...then Sebastian gets lice, and Aniston is out of town with her skanky new boyfriend, so Bateman comes to the rescue. Despite his hypochondria, he successfully delouces his kid and they make pancakes. Double awww...

Then the climax. Donor guy is going to propose to Kassie, even though it's clear that her kid hates him (despite everyone thinking he's the real dad) and they've only been dating for like 5 months. So at this big party, Donor Guy is all ready to propose, but Wally can't contain himself anymore. He totally breaks in on the dudes speech, and tells Kassie that Sebastian is really his. Oh no! Party foul! Kassie hauls off and slaps Wally, essentially ruining everyone's fun at the party.

After an indeterminate amount of days/weeks of not speaking to each other, Kassie shows up at Wally's job. She's still pretty ticked off. And there's a whole speech about Wally only being able to see Sebastian on HER terms. Sad...poor Wally. He loves that little guy. But turns out? "Her terms" are that he's ALWAYS around because - Spoiler Alert! - Kassie loves Wally! I actually think she just falls in love with whomever she thinks is the father of her fast-talkin' kid, but whatevs. Then the movie closes with a montage of all the happy shiny pictures of the new happy shiny family. Yay!

See? It's not all that bad! It's got some little twists and turns, and more importantly, Jason Bateman rules. And Jennifer Aniston is just lovely. So there ya go. The Switch. I give it an enthusiastic 2 thumbs up (that's out of 4 thumbs).

Pharon Go Bragh

Ay! Top o’ the evenin’ to ya! Yup, that’s my best attempt at an Irish accent. A few more words and I go all Australian/Pirate (adding “Mate”, “Matey”, and “Arrrr!” to everything). I’m a-not-a so good with the accentos. Anyway, Happy St. Patrick’s Day. Are you enjoying a green beer? Dancing a jig? Punching out a fellow unruly partier?

Same here!

Oh, wait. No, I’m not doing any of those things. Besides the green shirt I accidentally wore to work today (I mean I accidentally wore GREEN, not “I accidentally wore a shirt”) I really didn’t indulge in anything too Irishy. I grabbed a beer at a decidedly non-Irish bar with my friends Nick and Liz, and the brew was just the familiar honey-wheat color. Not a green river or leprechaun or clover or kilt in sight.

I love St. Patrick’s Day, usually. I mean, what’s not to love? It’s always Spring-like outside for the first time (not unlike TODAY! 45 degrees? Break out the SPF!), so everyone comes running out their houses to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. And then heads promptly inside to a dark, dank pub. And then it’s just a day of drinking, yelling, occasional punching, and GREEN. As you probs know, I have a very unhealthy love for the color green. Like, Spring/grass/Kate Spade/4-leaf clover green. Everything is better in green. Even holidays. So, I’ve got a very substantial supply of appropriate party clothes to wear on SPD. Today, though, I didn’t even consider my IRISH I WERE DRINKING glittery green t-shirt. Green argyle socks? Never even crossed my mind.

I hate that SPD falls on a stupid weekday this year. Dumb. [Side Note: Is it just me, or does it feel like St. Patrick’s Day is ALWAYS on a Thursday?!] So my Irish debauchery is on hold until Saturday, when Lana and her husband are holding their annual Irish Fest. I’ll be there, shoving my face with Irish Car Bomb shots and cupcakes. Slainte! Until then, though, I’m just doing my best to avoid the drunken mobs in downtown Minneapolis. Yeah, they’ve been out since the top o’ this morning.

So I guess I’ll have to keep my clever Irish-isms to myself for the next couple days. That shouldn’t be too hard, considering I only have like 3 of them. And – whoops - I’ve already used them up in this blog. Blarney!

Well, I hope you find a 4-leaf-clover, rub it, and make three wishes on the leprechaun that lives under a bridge (wait, that IS what this day is all about, right?!) Arrr! Matey!

Show Us Your Beads!

Alert! Alert! I've been browsing the Kate Spade website for over an hour now, periodically adding items to my Shopping Cart and then quickly removing it, lest I quickly click "BUY" in a spontaneous fit of Spade Lust. I need an intervention. Aw, but those tidbit plates are sooooooooooo cute! NO! No. Must. Write. Blog.

Okay, I made it. That was close. I was thisclose to rationalizing my way into a new bag AND new rain boots. Priorities, Pharon. Anyway, Happy Fat Tuesday! Apparently, Fat Tuesday is officially the the last day to gorge yourself silly before fasting begins on Ash Wednesday (tomorrow). Silly me, I always thought it was "An awesome reason to go out in sequins and fake eyelashes on a school night". (Not that I ever really needed a reason, but oh well.)

During college, my friends and I would get all snazzed up and go celebrate this "holiday" we knew nothing about. All we knew was that it was a big night in New Orleans for some reason, and there are bands and stuff, but as far as we were concerned, it was a pre-St. Patty's Day party. But with more beads. We'd all go out and throw on 10 pounds of beads, find some feathers, trade some girl a glow bracelet for a masquerade mask, and dance around drinking fruity drinks. We may not have really known what we were celebrating, but trust that we were celebrating. Yay! Mardi Gras! (Or something!)

I don't think I've gone out for Fat Tuesday since college. Sad. Now it's just plain ol' "Tuesday". And, depending on what I've eaten that day, it may or may not be Fat. Tonight, for instance, I'm at home watching Teen Mom with the roommies in our freshly HEATED house (yes, we have heat again!). To make it worse, I missed a text from Geo asking if I wanted to go out for a late dinner/drinks, because I was too busy NOT shopping online. Laaaaaame!

There are no parades in my 'hood today, no sparklers, no sequins or feathers. The only things I indulged in today were too much Crystal Light and Angry Birds. Ah, the life of the aged. I've changed, I know it. I talked to Madeline today and we both decided our lives were sorely lacking the fun and spontaneity of our younger years. She's way out in Chicago, I'm in frigid Minneapolis, and I have a feeling neither one of us is going out and tossing beads around like it's our job. (Madeline, you BETTER not be having that kind of fun without me!)

On the plus side, I did just snag a highly coveted hair appointment at a salon Kim recommended (but is apparently impossible to get in to), so maybe my indulging will start on Friday when I'm enjoying a Stella Artois at Salon Stella, getting my burlap-y hair snipped, and gearing up for a crazy fun weekend. And before that I've got Happy Hours, shopping, and Skype dates with Madeline planned. Turns out my Fat Tuesday this year is turning into Fat Week-After-Tuesday. I'm psyched. Mardi Gr-awesome!

Happy Anniversary of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre!

Well, well, well. Here it is Valentine's Day, and this girl's got plans. Even though I've been dating someone on Valentine's Day for a number of years, I've never had the desire to really DO anything that exciting for it. Sure, a girl loves eating chocolate, but I hardly need an actual HOLIDAY to indulge. But this year, I forced this celebrated day of love into mine and Geo's schedules. Sweet, sweet, love.

I came home from work today to this, though:

Awwww! What an awesome boyfriend I have!

So, Geo and I are going to dinner. When I started nagging him about it last week, I don't think Geo was exactly stoked about it, but it turns out he's not as opposed to it as most guys. He recommended a dinner spot that would have cost more than my car insurance bill, so I could at least tell he didn't hate me for wanting to go out. We settled on a happy medium of good food/not going into debt for a meal. I even went out this weekend and bought a dress - an actual DRESS! - that I didn't even try on, so I can only guess that it will look fabulous. I also spent all day Sunday hunting for a Valentine's Day present (yes, it was very last minute, lay off me).  I ended up waaaay outside my comfort zone. I was the only chick to enter Golfsmith on a Sunday, and walked out after getting LOTS of help picking out white golf club grips. Nothing says "romance" like the purchase of a gift that will ensure we spend at least a few hours apart every week.

This fine day is also my anniversary of being friends with Kim. About ten years ago, Kim and I got together for the first time and threw an Anti-Valentine's Day party. We drew black hearts all over the place, bought V-Day decorations and ceremoniously cut them up, blacked out Cupid's teeth, and just celebrated hating this wretched day with friends. It was crazy fun. It was more fun hating the day than celebrating it.

It hasn't always been like that, though. I LOVED Valentine's Day when I was a kid. My mom would plan a nice dinner for all of us rugrats, and after soccer practice or band rehearsal, we'd all finally enjoy a great dinner together. We'd get to the table and my mom had always set the table with heart-shaped box of chocolates on each of our plates, and a little gift too. I think it was the only time of year I looked forward to getting new pajamas. And then we'd eat, and show each other our gifts and trade chocolates. I always LOVED that. I guess that's why I've always associated Valentine's Day with family, moreso than romance. Thus, the historical lack of forced romantic plans.

Even when Geo and I had our first Valentine's Day together, it couldn't have been more appropriately romance-less. Perek's girlfriend was out of town for the weekend, so Perek was flying solo.  Geo and Perek went and bought lobsters for each of us. Giant, live lobsters. Perek set his lobster on the ground and we watched it crawl around our kitchen. Hilarious. Then they killed the lobsters and they were deeeelicious. Geo and I brought our food upstairs to the office and enjoyed a "romantic" dinner there while Perek was downstairs. We opened our lobsters with wrenches. Yes, as in: actual monkey wrenches. Then we all regrouped and spent the rest of the night watching TV and playing a drinking game that consisted of tossing cards into a bowl across the room. Be Mine indeed.

So I don't know why I suddenly got the urge to be all sugary and sweet and romantic. It kind of came out of nowhere. Maybe it's the Spring-like weather outside, but I'm in the mood for some love. Or at least a fancy schmancy dinner while I play dress-up in a new dress.  And maybe it's the fact that I've been really trying to up my game this year when it comes to feminizing myself.  All the make-up and brushing of my hair must have shook something loose in my brain:  High Maintenance Girl Behavior.  Careful what you wish for, men...

On that note, I hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Day. And whether you're cutting up Cupids, or eating lobster with your friends, or sitting on the same side of a restaurant table with your lover (that's really annoying to everyone around you, by the way) exchanging "I love you's", or not doing anything at all, I hope you guys have a loverly Valentine's Day!

XOXOXOXO dudes!

Was There Some Sort of Sporting Event On Tonight?

So, the Super Bowl is over. I'm drained from eating my face off and cheering for a losing team I have nothing invested in. In lieu of a traditional blog, I'm posting pics from our Super Bowl party. Note: My camera is jacked. I don't know what I did to it, but I messed up the settings so the pics are questionable. Oh well, enjoy this little peek-a-boo into my life. Also, it's like proof that I have friends. Yay!

Fooooooood!

Well, yes, as a matter of fact I DID make these wontons myself!

Based on my availability of black and yellow socks (go Hawkeyes!), I decided to be a Steelers fan for the night. That didn't work very well.

So then a few peeps decided to shotgun a beer outside. Here they are, pulling the triggers.

The knife they used to open the beer cans was carefully placed in the porch.

Here are a few of my loverly friends who came by: Allyson, me, Liz, and Kim.

Here's the group.

This is Geo's friend KG's dog, Grey, snoozin'.

Just when we were almost ready to fall into a food coma, these guys came on the TV and spiced up my life. I'd like one of these outfits for when I go walking at night.

Through it all, though, I represented my Vikings.

Then the food was gone...

The beer cans were empty and stashed all over the house...

And night was a huge success. I don't care who won, actually. I just don't. But I'm going to miss football every Sunday. How long until preseason starts???

Welcome back to the week, everyone. Let's do it.

Who is Lange Zyne, and How Old IS She?

You knew it was coming, didn’t you? Like I said before, I don’t typically make New Year’s Resolutions, so I guess maybe these should be considered a To Do List for 2011. Or, maybe more like “Pseudo-Challenging Goals Most People Do Anyway”. I feel like resolutions are so, I don’t know, final and scary. I would list things like “Learn Chinese” or “Shower Everyday” but everyone who knows me knows that those are impossible, and therefore won’t make any list I ever compile, unless it’s a list of things I’ll never do.

Without further ado, here’s my List of Things I Will Really Try and Do This Year, But Don’t Quote Me On It:

* As I’ve previously mentioned, learn how to put on makeup. As I write this list, I am relishing in Day Two of no makeup, and I will be sad to see these days go.

* Stop doing my laundry at my parents house. (NOTE: I KNOW how to do my own laundry. I’ve been doing it since I was 16, and in fact DO my own laundry, just at my parents house.) Here’s the thing: I HAVE a washer and dryer in my house, but I’ll admit it. I’m very afraid of our basement. It’s dark and scary and full of storage stuff. I just KNOW there are mice hiding down there. And mice are scary. It’s time I stop avoiding the little buggers and just wear football spikes down to the basement.

* Learn how to change a car tire. I don’t know why, but I have always wanted to be able to do this. I think it has something to do with the fact that I know a lot of guys who can’t do it, and need to call AAA. But how awesome would it be to pop out of the car, take off my Louboutins (which I will also buy this year), and change a tire myself? Answer: Very awesome.

* Be more spontaneous. Typically, Monday-Friday, my hours are planned out down to the minute, until 6 p.m. when I just park it on my couch and write. I have GOT to stop doing that. “Pharon, do you want to go to a movie that doesn’t START until 9:30 p.m.?” Old answer: No way, too late. New answer: Fine. Well, unless there’s one at 7:30? No? Okay, count me in.

* More happy hours. I can’t believe I have to actually WORK on this. I love Happy Hours, but as of late, I’ve really been slacking in the post-work drink arena. Must remedy this soon.

* No more roommates. I think I’m finally at the age where it’s getting a little weird to live in a house with 3 people to whom I’m not related. I really hope this is the year I move out of my favoritest house in the world into a small, crappy place in the ‘burbs probably, because I can only afford my sweet pad right now with the THREE roommates. No, I think it’s time to downsize and grow up.

* Stop watching TV marathons. Or at least limit them. I can sit and watch America’s Next Top Model marathons for 4 hours without even thinking about it. And God help me if there’s a Bridezilla or True Life marathon on. I may as well grow roots in the couch. But no, I must stop doing this.

* No. More. Clothes. From. Forever. 21. No more. They are cheap and only good for one or two wears. Unless it’s for a costume or something. Nope. I’m going to focus on QUALITY clothes over QUANTITY of clothes.

* Stop eating like a guy. I need more veggies and fruit in my diet, plain and simple.

* Keep blogging. If you guys promise to keep reading, I promise to keep blogging.

Those are my goals for 2011. What are yours? What will you change? What do you want to KEEP doing? (And HEY! If one of your resolutions is to write kick butt Cheesy Movie Storyline, don’t forget to send it to pharonsquare@gmail.com for your chance to win an authentic Pharon Square t-shirt AND your story featured on an upcoming blog!!)

Be safe out there guys. Have fun ringing in the new year, and I hope you have the night of a lifetime!! I’m sad to see 2010 go, because it was a pretty darn good year. I hope next year is as good, if not better. For me AND for you! See you all in 2011!

Sars about the video below, but it’s the only thing I could find with my favorite version of the New Year’s Song! Close your eyes and dance…

The Red and Green Blues

Well, I hope you guys had a magical, surprising, loving, joyful Christmas like I did. But does anyone else get the post-Christmas blues? I just got home from spending like 2 1/2 days with my ginormous family, and here I’m back at my house just, like, taskless. For over a month, I spent so much time thinking of gifts (for 15 people), researching gifts, buying gifts, returning gifts, finding an outfit suitable of being both festive and elastic-y to cushion all the holiday foods, and now it’s just…over. I hauled all my gifts home tonight, and I dug through them to enjoy some of them immediately. Just trying to stretch out the feeling, I guess. I’ve got my new boots on from Geo, I’m guzzling sipping the holiday wine my brother-in-law Ben made (zummy! It’s one of my favorite wines!) from a Kate Spade mug Prinna gave me, taking random pictures of nothing with my new camera from my parents, and I just kind of keep going through everything. I just got them yesterday, and it’s like they’re already keepsakes.

Sometimes it’s hard to take it all in when it’s happening, you know? I remember hearing somewhere that if you spend too much time trying to, like, take pictures or videos of an event, you won’t remember it as well as just living it, you know? So I really tried to focus during Christmas. I wanted to make sure I saw everyone open their gifts from me, but there’s always a LOT going on. It’s like trying to watch one snowflake fall in a snow globe.

It was a stupid great Christmas this year, though. Added Bonus: I think I burned approximately 16 bazillion calories yesterday from playing Just Dance for Wii NONSTOP. I have GOT to buy that game. My parents got it for Christmas, and it is quite possibly the greatest game ever. At one point, there were 7 of us all dancing to Toxic. Seriously, it was too fun. I was actually sore today. Besides that, my parents house was just full of people, kids, noise, Christmas tree-scented candles, and wrapping paper stuck to everything. It was pure bliss.

Then today, people packed up their stuff, put it all in their cars, and drove it all away. Ever since I was little, my parents have preferred that we simply stack our stuff up and NOT put it away for a few days so they can actually SEE everything. It’s the only time they want a messy house. I now totally understand that. I was so busy opening my awesome gifts that I didn’t see Prinna’s awesome gifts. And Peter and Perek both had to swoop theirs away before I saw most of their stuff too.

But now all my gifts are set out on my dining room table. I just keep going over there and looking at different things. I’m going through holiday-cheer withdrawal. I want to just curl up under a tree skirt, pop in some Manheim Steamroller, and huff a combination of peppermint, cinnamon and egg nog. I’ve gone crazy with Christmas nostalgia. If I were the creative type, I’d make a scrapbook of my Christmas 2010 memories. I would dry my tears with candy cane wrapping paper, and compulsively fondle the glittery tree ornaments and tinsel. I’ve seriously considered replacing all the light bulbs in our house with strands of colorful Christmas lights.

Does this happen to anyone else? Do you guys get bummed after the Christmas party has come and gone? Or am I alone here? What do you guys do when a big day has…ended? You know how you plan and plan and plan and look forward to, say, a vacation, and then you get home and go back to work and life is all normal again? It sucks, yo. I’m still craving online shopping and gift wrapping. I want to wrap everything back up and make everyone do it all over again. One thing’s for sure, though. I’m going out and getting Just Dance and will try and dance away my blues.

The REAL Christmas Story

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the home
This blogger sat quietly, writing this poem.
The TV was muted, my phone was on vibrate,
The silence was wonderful, peaceful, and great.
My roommates were gone, at work or with friends,
“I live alone in this castle“, this blogger pretends;

I nibbled on grapes and sipped on some wine,
Which I generously poured into a big beer stein,
When all of a sudden, I heard a loud "S@*#"!
I ran to the window, to yell at the culprit
I tripped on a shoe, the rug, and a purse ,
I reached the window before things got any worse.

The streets below were quiet, and still, and dark
Cars badly lined up, because people can‘t parallel park,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature man, falling over and drinking a beer,
He relieved himself in the snow bank out front,
I knew in a moment he was totally drunk.

He dug out his phone and drunk dialed his friends,
And he called and he texted, clearly to no ends
"Now, Jason! now, Tony! Just answer, you jerks!
Hey, Sarah! Yo Becky! I know not one of you works!”

The man fell face first in the 3-foot snow bank,
Just by looking at him, I could tell that he stank
As the winds blew hard, he swayed as he stood,
he tried to walk straight, as best as he could,
Eventually I saw as he climbed our front steps,
He slipped and he slid, but eventually crept.

And then, in a moment, I heard on the stairs
The man coming up, and muttering swears.
Before I got to the door to lock it up tight,
The man walked in and was a horrible sight.
He was dressed all in camo, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all covered in beer that was not root;

He reached in his pocket, took a swig from his flask,
And suddenly turned into a jolly man, no longer was crass.
His eyes -- they started twinkling like glitter!
I picked up my phone and signed on to Twitter.
I wanted to tweet about what I was seeing,
He was now fully jolly, no longer publicly peeing;

He lit up a pipe and held it firm in his teeth,
A fluffy moustache, his pearly whites were beneath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
His odor was now pleasant, and not at all smelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
“Could this lush be Santa?“ I thought to myself;

With a friendly high five and a wink of his eye,
The messy drunk was now Santa, and was quite a guy;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
And held out his hand, presenting the flask,
I drank and was magically filled with holiday cheer,
And giving a nod, he announced “My cab is here“;
He sprang to the car, and gave the driver directions,
And away they drove, (he put his seatbelt on for protection)

But I heard him exclaim, ere he rode to Nicollet Mall,
"Have a wonderful weekend, and Merry Christmas to all!"

Sweet Tooth

If I ever see sugar again, it will be too soon. Like, way way way too soon. I spent over 7 hours baking cookies today with Prinna and my mom. We always start all gung-ho crazy, and about halfway through, we really start hurtin'. Quality suffered. We slowed down. But eventually we finished, and we're pretty proud of the results. Without further ado, here's a photo journal of what we accomplished today.









Then I got a little crazy. I spent an obscene amount of time making "couples" with the gingerbread men. Prinna was about to toss me and my "couples" out the window, because while I dawdled away placing each little piece of sprinkle hair on one-by-one, there were literally hundreds more to decorate. But, behold! The adorable results!

Geo and Me


Prinna and Chris


My mom and dad - look! He has a little stethoscope on, and my mom has reading glasses on her head!

So, I think we did a pretty kick-butt job. We divvied out all the cookies and we each took home a thief's ransom in sugar. I almost dumped mine off our balcony though. I couldn't look at them anymore. Plus, I don't need anymore sugar - I'm sweet enough as it is. ZING! But, I kept them and I'm sure my roommates will have no trouble eating them. Meanwhile, this is the carnage that remained after all the cookies were packaged up.

Wrap Artist

Uff da. Bring on the snow. I’ve got my butt planted on the couch, watching the Vikings game. Those weirdos are playing OUTSIDE in the U of M football field. What kind of freakshow goes to watch a football game in subzero, snowy weather? Geo, Perek, and two of their friends, that’s who. They have been outside since about 3:30 this afternoon, waiting to get INSIDE the OUTDOOR stadium. Seriously, freak shows.

Well, I’m officially done with work until 2011. I went to work for a grueling 4 hour workday, and now I’ve got the next two weeks off. Me likey PTO. I got home, watched a movie, did some Christmas shopping, and came home to do one of my favorite things ever. I wrapped like 15 gifts. I. Love. Gift wrapping. Love it. If I were a zillionaire and could open my own business, I’d open a gift wrapping place. And not like one of those generic backrooms at Crate and Barrel, where they slap a pre-cut ribbon on top of a solid white box and call it a day. No, no. I’ve got a serious vision.

You know that scene in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory where Willy opens that teeny door and they go into a candy wonderland? Replace the chocolate river with tissue paper, the trees with rolls upon rolls of different wrapping paper, and those little candy teacup flowers with bows and you’re halfway to what I want. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, more enjoyable for me to do than go and buy gift wrap. All the options, colors, and textures are like an aphrodisiac. And the ribbons! Oh man, I love ribbon like I love bagels. The best is the curling ribbon that comes with like 5 colors on a roll. Intoxicating.

I like to coordinate wrapping papers. They’re like outfits. I’ll wrap one present in red, black, and white paisley print paper, and another in a yellow pinstripe paper, then tie them together with white and yellow ribbons. Oh, this also means I frequently buy people two gifts. The paper looks so much better that way. Unfortunately, this year I only got one kind of wrapping paper. I thought it went together with a different paper I already had, but it didn’t, so I was stuck with the plain old multi-colored snowflake paper.

After the paper is chosen, I need to find boxes. One of my biggest annoyances with wrapping presents is when they are oddly-shaped. What the H happened to companies giving out gift boxes with things? Rude. Now, I either have to salvage an old clothes box or roll up the shirt in the paper and tie the ends, like a piece of candy. It feels like such a cop out. But when I have BOXES, yee haw! When I was younger, Prinna used to let me French braid her hair because I did it “tight” - meaning no bumps. No saggy pieces. Perfect. Well, that’s how I like to wrap. Nice and snug. If boxes were girls, they’d all be wearing corsettes.

So, then the ribbon goes on. Lots and lots and lots and lots of ribbon. It quite literally ties it all together. And honestly, I don’t understand why people use NON curling ribbon. There is nothing more satisfying than a perfectly curled ribbon. Not too tight, not too loose. Just like hair curls. My ribbons are Jennifer Aniston’s hair.

This is why I want a gift wrapping shoppe (yup, I‘m going to be a jerk about it and add the extra “PE“ at the end). Now, don’t get me wrong, people, it’ll be pricey. Gold-flecked wrapping paper and Swarovski crystals don’t come cheap. It’s luxurious to have a well-wrapped gift. If you’re going to take the time to buy a gift, you should take the time to have it wrapped well. It’s like making pasta and leaving off the grated cheese. Why bother? In my shoppe, I’m going to do all the wrapping myself. Everything will be in an actual BOX, and it’ll look elegant and fun. I’ll add diamond ring charms to wedding gifts, glow-in-the-dark bracelets to kids gifts (or possible rave gifts, if such a thing exists), and incense sticks to a hippie gift.

Well, for now I’ll just have to keep working on a gift wrap ROOM in my house. I’ll be just like Candy Spelling. Or, I just need someone to wrap up the zillion dollars I’d need fulfill my life‘s dream. If you need help with the ribbon, I’m happy to help…

HO HO HOusekeeping

Welp, we didn’t quite get any of the Christmas holiday decorations up this weekend. We bought the tree, though, and it looks awesome. But it’s pretty sad without any lights or glittery crap hanging from it. And the wreath I DID hang on our front door came crashing to the floor minutes after I hung it. It’s like Christmas doesn’t WANT to hang out with me. Or if it does, it’s certainly not making it easy for me.

Anyway, I just wanted to kind of run through some reminders and changes that have happened and will happen here at Pharon Square headquarters. And in the spirit of the holidays, I’m going to try and make them into songs. I need a more exciting life planned on Sunday nights…

* Hark! The Herald Facebook Page iiiiiss Up and You Should “Like” It. AND pass it on to any friends who you think would enjoy some good ol‘ fashioned self-deprecating humor. Plus, you can post hilarious pictures and blog ideas. Just search FB for Pharon Square and you’ll be able to LIKE to your heart’s desire.

* Joy to the World, I Bought my Own Website. www.pharonsquare.com is, for now, forwarding to my blogspot blog. But in the coming weeks, I’ll be switching over to my own site which will give me the freedom to poll your eyes out, and place pictures any place I damn well please. So, get excited for that. Seriously. Mark your calendars, if you haven’t already…

* Oh Comment, all Ye Faithful Don’t be afraid to comment or click on your reactions (under the videos). And if you’re terrified of being caught reading the World’s Best Blog for some reason, you can always stay Anonymous. Though, I like talking back to people with names, so feel free to make up a handle for yourself (a la LanaMadonna) so you’ll know for sure when I’m talking trash right to you.

* I Saw Santa Sharing Pharon Square Dudes, I will definitely NOT be mad if you tell your friends about this blog if you like it. In fact, I’d totes appreciate it. FB links, tweets, writing a letter to your great aunt Mildred and mailing it to her with a 41-cent stamp works too, but it seems like a lot of work, and no one likes to do a lot of work. You can always follow me on Twitter or FB by clicking those handy links up there on the left. And when you want to share a blog, you can do so with 1-click by using those neato little icons after each post. Technology…what WILL they think of next!?

*Finally, Jingle Bells, Batman Smells, Pharon Laid an Egg Okay, that one doesn’t actually make any sense or mean anything, but If you have any questions, suggestions, death threats, stalker letters filled with my hair, or general comments you can always comment directly on the blog or on the FB page for now. I’ll be setting up a new email account for the blog too, but I’m too tired to right now and I’m having trouble deciding between pharonsquare@gmail.com and pharon.square_funblogtime18347983626@aol.org/dialup Decisions, decisions…


Now that all that garbage is out of the way, we can all move on. How was your weekend? Did you see any good movies? Discover a ginormous splinter in your foot that has been hurting for a week now (I’ll give you one guess as to who that was)? Anyone get arrested? Buy a car? Elope to Vegas? Tell me some good stories.

(Sorry, there’s no video today. Comcast is down AGAIN, so I couldn’t get to youtube to get a video. If I ever stop hating Comcast, maybe I’ll add one later…we thank you for your patience.)

FaFa La La La

I don’t know about you guys, but I might never eat again. I was literally in pain for 3 nights this weekend as a result of shoving food down my throat until I couldn’t breathe. Then, tonight, I capped it all off with eating dessert for dinner. Prinna had a little Christmas party at her house, the first time she’s been able to decorate a house for Christmas in like 3 years, and served chocolate fondue, pumpkin pie cheesecake, pretzels topped with melty Rolos, brownies, and cupcakes. My thighs jiggled just by looking at the table of food. But that’s all over now. Now it’s back to veggies instead of chocolate and water instead of apple cider with rum.

Okay, so my family is VERY tradition-heavy. We do the same things every year for holidays. It’s quite regimented, but I dig it. I love the comfort of knowing what to expect at the holidays, and being sufficiently prepared. One of the Thanksgiving traditions we have in my family is to have all the women participate in a Celebrity Draft. Each of us picks 10 celebrities from a predetermined list in a draft. There’s number-crunching, strategies, and some of us get super in to it. Then, this website www.fafarazzi.com tracks the celebrity blogs and online mags. For every mention a celebrity gets on them, you get a point for him/her. At the end, the winner gets the highly coveted Fafa trophy. So from Thanksgiving night through Christmas, the 12 of us root for people like Paris Hilton to marry Kanye West in a weekend drunken stupor, and then have a baby.

Needless to say, I won last year. By a mile. I mean, I had TIGER WOODS on my team. So, I’ve got a majorly big target on my back. But this year, my team blows. My best “player” is Lindsay Lohan, and unfortunately for me, I really think she’s legitimately trying to not do drugs anymore. Big time bummer for me. I’m going to go ahead and need Jon Hamm and Blake Lively to come out with a sex tape…both are on my team and STRUGGLING. Zero points a piece. It’s like they don’t even care that I drafted them…geez. I've GOT to win that trophy, you guys. I really just have to. My pride is on the line.

Another tradition is for my insane mother and sisters to wake up at 3 a.m. on Friday morning and hit up the Black Friday sales. I’ve never gone with them. It’s like MY tradition to NOT participate. They wake up, shop for 12 hours wearing matching shirts, and then come home with bags and bags of crap stuff they found for 80% off with Doorbuster Sales. Instead of shopping with them, I babysit their kids. I LOVE babysitting the four kids. It’s so much more fun than plowing through a group of 40 year-old women who are over caffeinated and under-rested to get to the half-priced snow globes. Well, to each her own, I guess.

Well, now it’s on to Christmas traditions. I’ve pulled out my tiny shoe box of Christmas decorations and will now start the traditional Nagging of the Geo to put up the Christmas lights. And then he and I will go and pick out an obnoxiously enormous Christmas tree, bring it home, and decorate it while listening to some Mariah Carey Christmas music. And drinking apple cider with rum. And probably eating chocolate. (Yeah, turns out I can’t NOT eat/drink that stuff you guys…you just don’t mess with tradition.)

Bring it on, Christmas. I’m totally ready for the next round of traditions (I've already done the annual Changing of the Ringtone to Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas Is You). Now if only Robert Pattinson has a Christmas tradition of, say, getting major plastic surgery or a sex change, I’ll be set to win the Fafa trophy again. T’is the season!

Halloween Hangover

The concept of Trick-or-Treating is so rude. At this moment, we’re sitting in our house, with no lights on, TV turned down, and debating whether or not we should run out to the store and buy candy for other people's kids. We are prisoners in our own home, held captive by the fear of sticky, loud kids arriving at our door demanding free candy. Also, what kind of parent lets their kids go to a strangers house and beg for candy? You’d think they’d be dissuaded by amount of beer cans on the porch, or the fact that we kept the whole block up last night with our music and wild partying.

Last night was a crazy fun night. Our house was packed with pre-partiers. Pretty much all my lovely friends showed up, and sang Happy Birthday, and chowed down on ice cream cake. It was super fun. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen any pictures from last night yet, so I don’t have the photographic evidence of my wildly underappreciated costume. I wore the Amish bonnet, a bedazzled cross necklace, and a black dress I had initially purchased for a Snooki costume. I looked great. No one understood it though. Someone thought I was a Salem witch and suggested I hang a noose from my neck. At the bar, it became tiresome explaining what Rumspringa is.

Plus, I was competing with insanely extravagant costumes around me. My brother went as a giant box of Franzia. And it REALLY DISPENSED WINE. Geo got his hands on a giant bear head (seriously, it’s large. Almost doesn't fit through any doorways) and was a popular Bear character from the Conan O’Brien show. And Kim’s boyfriend Nick was Brett Favre. Well, HIS version of Favre. He colored his hair gray, wore the jersey, the cleats, everything. But then he attached a box to the front of himself and had a little, like, diorama with some inappropriate material that would pop out when you turned a crank. So, needless to say, no one was looking at me anyways.

I love dressing up for Halloween. I blame it on my mom. When we were little, she would make us these incredibly adorable and complicated costumes. I was a mermaid, a head on a platter, a scarecrow, and my brother and sisters went as the California Raisins one year. We always looked awesome. So I still heartily embrace Halloween, and totally appreciate a good, clever costume. As long as it doesn't involve kids coming to MY door.

Well, Happy Halloween, everyone. I’m calling it a night as I have still not recovered from the debauchery last night. I haven’t moved much from the couch, and I really don’t intend to. Thanks again to all my lovely friends for coming out last night and making it such a memorable birthday! Time to start planning NEXT year's birthday party...

Repent!

I’m going to do my best at blogging coherently tonight. I’m writing this during the Vikings game, and it’s a tight game so far. But I’ll try my best to stay focused, because I have a lot to get off my chest.

Okay, so first of all, I want to say “Sorrrrrry, Mom….” to, duh, my mom. She has planned a birthday dinner for me this coming Thursday night (have I mentioned it’s my birthday on Thursday? Probably not…I like to be really low-key about my birthdays. /sarcasm) and I crapped all over her plans. Which makes me sound like a total jerk. I’m lucky to have almost my whole ginormous family come out for my birthday, so restaurant options become limited. And when it was decided that we’d go to the private room at Olive Garden (When we’re there, we’re family!) I couldn’t get past the thought of the unlimited breadsticks that I could eat for days. The problem is, I’m about to squeeze myself into a tiny black dress for my Halloween costume next weekend, and my will power is lacking. But instead of just deciding not to eat 20 breadsticks, I complained and sounded like an ungrateful brat. So, Mom, in front of the fives and tens of people who read this, I’m sorry.

Now that we’ve gotten that ugliness out of the way, I’d now like to apologize to the fine people at Forever 21 who may have had the unhappy sight of my Minnesota-white body squeezed into a black sequined mini-dress. I don’t typically find myself in the glaringly bright store with floor-to-ceiling mirrors anymore. But, in the interest of finding an appropriate Snooki dress (yup, I’ll be dressing up as the lovable Guidette for Halloween), Kim and I made our way to Forever 21. I was reminded immediately, that I am NOT forever 21. We filled my arms with gold, black, bejeweled and ruched mini dresses and, well, it went questionably. At one point, Kim, who was waiting for me outside the dressing room as I tried on dress after dress, had to ask “Pharon, what are you laughing at!?” I mean, people, seriously. It was hilarious. There were cut-outs and elastic in places that should not have cutouts or elastic. Plus, I’m only 5’2” and these dresses were S.H.O.R.T.! Who wears that stuff?! But finally, I found one that didn't make me want to throw up. I peeked my head through the curtain and beckoned Kim in to the room with me. I stood uncomfortably in front of my dear friend, tugging at the dress, and hoped she wouldn’t start crying at the sight. Instead, she said, helpfully, “You’ll have stilettos on, and so much jewelry! Plus, the bars don’t have florescent lights in them. I think you look great!” God bless you, Kim.

Finally, I want to say “My Bad” to my liver. On Friday night, Liz, Ally and Kim came over and we did some work on some Prosecco and other various wines. Clean up on Saturday morning was really easy because all I did was collect like 8 empty bottles of wine and throw them in the garbage. But I really pushed my body to process all that, and it did a great job. So, I’m sorry and thank you, Body.

Whew! I feel better already! Now I can start the week fresh, and determined not to commit these same atrocities again. I mean, except the last one. That one just, well, my heart wasn’t really in that one.

But for realsies, I had a great weekend, and hopefully I have no more apologies like this next Sunday!

The Totally Outrageous Party-Filled Weekend…or not

I’m not entirely stoked to go back to work tomorrow. It’s been a great weekend, with fantastic weather, and hours upon hours of free time and I‘m pretty sad to see it go. My big project this weekend, though, was planning my niece Annabelle’s 5th Birthday party. It was sort of a surprise party, because Prinna gave me the theme and Annabelle knew there was a party. But, for a 5 year old, walking into a house fully decorated and full of people is as surprised as you want to get. I thought there was a 50% chance she’d freak out when we all yelled “SURPRISE!” and start crying. Luckily that didn’t happen.

I love planning parties. I love decorating, buying supplies, adding little touches that no one notices but really pull everything together. Give me a budget, or better yet no budget at all, and I can plan the crap out of a party. For Annabelle’s, the theme was Fancy Nancy. It’s a children’s picture book about a little girl who likes everything to be sparkly, feathery, and well, Fancy. So, natch my mom and I bombarded Prinna’s house with feathers, glitter, balloons, and bright colors. My other niece Rachel and I made 2 gigantic banners that said “OOH LA LA” and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY FANCY ANNABELLE”! We dressed Annabelle up in a sparkly tutu, glitter make up, a tiara, and beads. She looked hilarious. I mean, adorable.







Now I’m just totally wiped out though. All that sugar, all that activity, and all those people just wore me out. I feel like I’m 100 years old and just got back from performing at a circus. Plus, kids parties are not good ideas for someone watching her girlish figure. Oh well, it was totally worth it.

Between the party planning with my mom, I spent my weekend doing nothing. I accomplished painting my nails, but then took a nap while they were still a bit wet and now have sheet marks on them. Accomplishment Fail. I slept on the couch one night because the house was empty and I was scared to be upstairs in a desolate house. Grown-Up Fail. I picked up my dirty purse from the dry cleaners. Pilgrim Cleaners Fail. And I had big plans of throwing a September-themed party at my house on Sunday night, but instead watched Star Wars while Geo slept on the couch next to me. Social Life Fail. Adding these all up would lead some people to think that this weekend was a failure. But sleeping late, enjoying my coffee on the porch during the beautiful mornings, catching up on DVR’d TV, and planning an adorably fun party are major successes in my book.

Labor Day: thanks for memories, pal. You were a welcome break that I shall remember fondly until Thanksgiving. My determination to spend this weekend not laboring was a beautiful success, and if I weren’t so exhausted from eating cupcakes, I’d pat myself on the back. And now, back to our regularly scheduled work week…

Do You Remember?

Finally! The Labor Day weekend can begin! I’ve treated myself to taking Friday off, and look forward to filling my long weekend with hours upon hours of not Laboring. I did some research (a.k.a. briefly breezed through the Wikipedia entry) on Labor Day. Much as the name suggests, Labor Day is a day to celebrate the “working man”. To give rest to those who build the foundation on which this country stands. Also, it’s the official start to the NFL season. w00t.

When I was little I thought Labor Day had something to do with babies. You know, the whole “she’s going into labor!” thing? Yeah, I thought that’s what this weekend was all about. I don’t remember what I must have thought happened to spark the annual federal holiday in terms of a pregnant woman about to give birth, but I imagine it had something to do with the stork. Maybe it was his only day off. Or, his busiest day of the year. Who can say? The fact of the matter is, all things about that thought process were wrong. Such is life…

So Labor Day. The finest holiday I do not understand. According to sources (Wikipedia), there is a declaration that there are supposed to be parades and speeches by prominent leaders. Sounds, uh, fun? I’ll pass on those things. Instead, I will celebrate my love and appreciation for fellow workers by sleeping late, drinking beer, painting my nails, and decorating for my niece’s 5th birthday party. I can’t believe they didn’t include ANY of those national pastimes in the original declaration. Fools.

I do know one thing for sure. Labor Day is the day I start listening to Earth, Wind and Fire’s September on repeat. It’s pretty much the world’s greatest song of all time. I dare you to listen to it and not feel warm inside your bones. There was a perfect Labor Day a couple years ago when my friend Ally, Geo, Perek, and I hung out and played games all day and listened to the song on repeat. For like 3 hours. The best song for the best time of year. Now, I’m going back to watching the final pre-season Vikings game and gearing up for a delicious weekend of relaxing, enjoying the weather, and a whole lotta this:

(Happy Labor Day, kids. Be smart. Be safe. Be Youtiful.)

Smile Because it Happened

This weekend was my favorite 4th of July celebration to date. My whole family was able to stay at Faith’s Lodge in Wisconsin ( Faith's Lodge Website ). Faith’s Lodge is a ginormous cabin on 20 acres of land, and it is a place for families who are faced with the challenge of having sick children, or for families who have suffered the loss of a child. My sister Prinna and her husband Chris lost my niece Sophia to SIDS in 2007. Since then, they have been very active in raising funds for Faith’s Lodge, because it was such a special place for them to visit after losing Sophia.

So this weekend, we all got together and celebrated Sophia’s life with the dedication of a bridge in her name. Fun? Absolutely. But having my whole family together can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. There were almost 20 of us, plus 8 kids, with Chris’ family and my own. There were just some insane moments. There were costume contests, poker games, dance contests, slip n’ slides, fishing, kids were melting down left and right, crying. My little brother got a fishing hook stuck in his finger and minor surgery had to be performed in the Sun Room. My brothers and my boyfriend put on a truly spectacular fireworks show, complete with music. And there was lots of food, lots of beer, and lots of…well, everything. It was a crazy good time.

But there were 2 moments in particular that I’ll treasure for the rest of my life from this weekend. The first was when Prinna and I randomly took a paddle boat ride around the pond. Just the two of us, there wasn’t really much talking. Just kind of quiet. Peaceful. We picked flowers from the lily pads (which, oops, is like totally illegal I guess), and just sort of chilled. It was immensely important to me to share that tiny moment with Prinna at Faith’s Lodge. I felt honored to be there with her, and it really made me happy.

The second moment was when I was tasked with decorating the bridge before the ribbon cutting ceremony. I went to town with the yellow crepe paper, purple ribbons, and balloons. I was down at the bridge alone, and there could not have been more mosquitoes, the threat of ticks was everywhere, and it was a zillion degrees. But there I was, standing on the bridge by myself. Thinking of Sophia. Missing her. And I looked around me, and there were dozens and dozens of rocks that parents paint for their beloved children and put them around the bridge. Names of babies, dates of their passing, special words from their parents. I didn’t know any of them, but nestled by a tree was Sophia’s. Among all those rocks, all those names, I did know one of them. I just missed her so much.

But then the ribbon cutting ceremony started, and the whole group of us stood together and remembered Sophia, and honored her life. It was incredibly moving. I thought, as I looked around, how lucky I am. Twelve hours ago, all these people were dancing around a room together, laughing, singing, and being together. And it was all because of Sophia. We all came together for her, and we had fun. We cried, yes, but we celebrated too.

I encourage you, dear reader, to find moments like this. To look around and remember how special the people in your life are. And when you find yourself on a bridge, sad and alone, remember that you can cross over it. And my hope for you is that you’ll find a whole mess of people who make you smile.

Oh, yeah, one more thing. Happy B-day, America. You rock. Thanks for the freedom. :)