I Did The Scariest Thing And Survived

There are a lot of things I am afraid of; swimming in the deep part of the ocean, getting pulled over by a cop, watching my daughter grow into a woman and losing people I love. I am also afraid of reading my work in front of other people. Namely, complete strangers who are also writers. These people are usually readers and well versed in what is good and what is shitty. They know how it feels to write and rewrite and then want to burn every single word on the page. They have read funny and they have been offended by off color humor. They have heard hundreds of people say hundreds of times "My friend has a blog and it's really funny. You should check it out." Most of the time they don't and if they do, it's not as good as it was promised to be. I didn't want to be that friend.

I went to this writing conference with the intention of taking classes and workshops and keeping my mouth shut. When I was perusing the schedule, I allowed the highlighter to skip any workshop that included reading or critiquing. I told myself that my writing wasn't ready. The truth is, I wasn't ready.

I brought writing samples with the intention of having my author friend look over them, without me around and tell me how I could change them and make them better. He kindly informed me that I would be "getting my cherry popped" and taking a reading/critique class. Possibly more than one. My stomach immediately knotted up and I am still getting over the diarrhea it induced.

So I did it. And I didn't die. I read my work in two separate workshops and the feedback I received was astounding. I wanted to cry and hug people and finish my book and scream from the tallest building "They like it, they really like it!!" I know this feeling won't last forever, but it has given me the kick in the ass I needed to keep going. To stop questioning what I am doing, to own my writing, to share my writing and to admit that I, too, am a writer. You heard it here first, I'm a writer and I don't care who knows.

If you haven't already, please check out my friend John's website. He has some very entertaining blog posts and you can watch a trailer about the book he wrote called Where Excuses Go To Die. I've read it, I love it and you can read my review on Goodreads. He is an author worth following.
www.whereexcusesgotodie.com

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane...Again.

I'm going to the beach for the third time in three months. I'm starting to think I might be spoiled. The first trip was to Florida, spur of the moment, to make sure my brother was happy and to spend some time reminding him that he deserved to be. The second was a planned cruise to Mexico with my favorite ladies where, instead of leaving the ship at port, we stayed on-board to enjoy the benefits of no lines at the buffet. I saw the beach, but I didn't touch it. This third trip is a complete surprise and I'm scared shitless. I am going to my first writing conference.

I don't even admit to being a writer, except to people I have known for longer than a decade and whom I know read my blog. When strangers or neighbors ask what I do, I him and haw about helping my husband with our small business and staying home with my kids. Oh, and I have a little blog that I write. I have spent my life at jobs where I can share freely what I do because I get a paycheck and in my mind, that makes it real. I'm a massage therapist. I'm an Office Manager. I'm a Barista. I "just" stay home with my kids. That one hasn't produced a paycheck, but no one expects it to, and in most instances I have had a back up job to justify my existence on this planet. Now, I don't. I write for free. I spend hours working on a book that I fear isn't good enough. I spend mornings in my pajamas (like right now) updating my blog and reading about self publishing. That can't be considered a real job, can it? Next week, I will be forced to accept the fact that I am a writer. And I have to market the shit out of myself.

Therein lies my biggest fear. Meeting other humans who sit at a laptop in their dirty underwear and spill their guts onto paper in the hopes that one day they will get paid to do it. Admitting to them that I am one of their kind and that I am worthy of being part of that secret club. I'm freaked the fuck out. I'm not a salesperson. Ask any of the managers I had at Starbucks. When I had my yearly reviews, the one and only requirement I never hit was promoting the hot item of the quarter.

"We really need you to up-sale these pumpkin loafs."
"No. I'm not a salesperson. If they want it, they can ask for it."
"It doesn't work that way. Part of your job is to promote seasonal items."
"I'm not good at selling things that people don't want."
"You need to get good at it."

And now, I do need to get good at it. There are millions of books, millions of authors and millions of blogs that want your attention. If I ever want to make a living while sitting in my bathrobe, I have to get comfortable with letting people know why mine is the one they should read. I have to learn how to sell myself and I have to learn how to do it within the next 10 days. I may even need to wear a nice blazer and take the bathrobe off.

I Win

If you have never seen a Mother Of The Year award, take a good look at this sweet little number. I'm sorry to inform all of you out there that I have clinched the award this year. Maybe next year, my friend.

While on my ladies trip this year, we met a great group of strangers who sat with us at dinner. I didn't signed up to eat at a huge table with people I had never met. When I chose to have a set dinner time, I had clearly stated my desire to sit with the two people I was planning to share my closet sized room with. On a boat with 2,000 other people, being at dinner with any of them seemed like torture. While boarding the cruise ship, I had witnessed plenty of people with whom I had no desire of ever talking with, let alone spending two hours breaking bread with. The Gods must have been watching over me this particular day, because the people we ended up eating our four course meals with were fantastic, entertaining and hilarious humans.

After sharing with the table that I had two children whom I had happily left at home so I could jump on a boat and drink myself silly, someone made a joke about me being mom of the year. I laughed uncomfortably and wondered if they thought I was a real dick. I don't think they did. The next night, they brought me a gift that had been lovingly made with whatever scraps they could find on the boat. These included an empty wine bottle, a cork that was drawn with a very good likeness of my face and cut up pieces of the reusable bag we had all received as a thank you from the cruise line. What was created is the award you see above. I have never won an award for anything. There were no soccer championships, spelling bee trophies or Valedictorian medals in my life. I have never excelled at anything (that sounds sad, but it's okay) and now I had a trophy. A trophy for something that I am very proud of doing, being a mom.

I like to poke fun at the trials and tribulations of parenting and I am sure that for some people, my humor falls on deaf ears. It may not be funny to some people that I share my desire to spend a day hiding in a closet with a bottle of vodka or that I ship my kids off to Grandma's house in order to take a shower and a nap. The truth is, I love being a mom. I love my kids and parenting is the one thing in my life that I feel really good at. It's also the only thing I have ever stuck with for longer than a few years. It's true that there are a million other mothers in the world who deserve this award as much as I do (my mother included), but this year it's mine. After my run, I think I will ship it off to another hard working mom and perhaps it can be touched by all the moms I love who are feeding, changing, hugging, and reading to the next generation. Hey mamas, let the games begin.

Nope, I Don't Have Horns.

Image courtesy of primaryclipart.com

I love traveling. There are few things I don't love about traveling and they include; the return home laundry pile, waiting in security lines at the airport and being asked if I am "a Mormon". Just try to have a conversation with someone outside of Utah and at some point the question gets asked. I never ask people from New York if they are Jewish or people with twelve kids if they are Catholic, but somehow being from Utah equals one of three things; you are Mormon, you are a polygamist, or you have horns. Didn't you know that Mormons have horns? That conversation happened back when I was a teenager traveling to the East Coast and it was a serious question from the flight attendant after she asked where I was from and where I was headed. 

"Don't all Mormons have little horns on their head?"
I wish I could go back in a time machine and give her a more inappropriate answer to such an inappropriate question, but at the time, I stood with a shocked expression on my face and shook my head until she walked back to her soda cart.

While on a cruise ship last week, we were sitting in the designated smoking corner (it was the size of love seat), drinking beer and conversing with a couple squished next to us.
"From Utah, huh? You guys Mormons?"
Yep. We take a week vacation from the Word of Wisdom, tackled smoking and found a real taste for alcoholic beverages. Really? If you know nothing about the LDS culture, wait for a lead in. Anyone who is an active Mormon will be more than happy to share an hour long sermon within minutes of meeting you. As soon as they find out you are from LA or Nebraska or Florida, their concern is that you haven't had two 19 year old kids bear their testimony on your front porch while you are enjoying Saturday afternoon football and a cold brewskie. They can and will save your soul. The rest of us from Utah, we're just on vacation.

The polygamy question is a bit outdated and just as annoying. I understand that back in the late 1800's, it was a kind of big deal that Utah wanted polygamy more that it wanted statehood. I get it. But it's been a while and I think there are people in polygamous, poly-amorous, and other taboo relationships, outside of Utah. We aren't the only ones, folks. In my day to day, activities I rarely come into contact with polygamy and I have lived in Utah for 35 years. I have seen a few pligs at Starbucks on my road trips through St. George and I'm pretty sure I have seen a few of their houses in Eagle Mountain. No single family needs three 4,000 square foot homes built in a circle with a playground that puts Liberty Park to shame. We know what you're up to, folks. Otherwise, I see as many pligs and humans with horns as the rest of the world.

We aren't all Mormon. This state has many other cultures and religions that can and should represent us. We have great outdoor activities and a low cost of living. We have jobs, safe neighborhoods, National Parks and we are centrally located to many great adventures in the West. Ask me about that. I am tempted to have a shirt printed strictly for vacationing...."Made In Utah. Not a Mormon." That is trademarked, so don't even try to steal it. 

The Summer List

I love taking pictures out of moving vehicles. I feel like a movie star, wearing my floppy straw hat, my bare feet on the dashboard and a camera to capture every moment. This summer I feel blessed to have a job which will allow me to make my own hours and spend lots of time with my kids. I want to make this summer memorable and enjoy parts of our state that we haven't explored yet. We will be picking one new excursion a week from the list below, packing the car with snacks and taking lots of pictures. I want to sleep in kitschy motels and experience summer the way it's meant to be experienced, with wide eyes and no fear. I challenge you to make a summer bucket list, even if it has just five new things, you can greet Fall with the knowledge that you didn't waste your summer waiting for the ice cream truck to come down your street. You went out and found an adventure.

I am taking some ideas from this great book I bought a couple of years ago called Utah Curiosities: Quirky Characters, Roadside Oddities & Other Offbeat Stuff (Curiosities Series) by Brandon Griggs. If you live in Utah, I highly recommend this fantastic travel guide. I have lived here my whole life and 80% of these places were a mystery to me. Happy Travels!!!

*Dinosaur Land, Vernal, Utah
I can't believe this is so close and I've never been!! My kids are going to either love it or roll their eyes for an entire weekend. Either way, we are checking it out.

*Hill Air Force Base Museum.
One hour away and completely free....why haven't I seen this?

*This Is The Place State Park.
We tried this for my son's field trip two years ago, but it was a fucking downpour and we weren't able to enjoy it, so we are headed back. Yes, I just dropped the F bomb in the same paragraph as Brigham Young's famous saying. I'm a dick like that.

*Dog Lake Hiking Trail
I printed off the directions to this kid friendly hike two years ago and stuck a pin in it, literally. When I found it on the cork board among the other papers I never signed or sent back, I knew it was time to commit.

*Yuba Lake
Once again, I have never been to this lake. I've driven past it thousands of time on my way to Southern Utah and always wanted to stop and see what all the fuss was about. I may have to suck it up and let the kiddos camp out for a night. That's true love.

*City Creek, Trax ride and Downtown Shenanigans.
As I have shared with others, I was completely against this shopping center for a number of reasons. Then I went there. I fell in love and have been working on forgiving the church for taking business away from Gateway ever since. My kids haven't been yet and because we live in suburbia and are forced to ride in cars everywhere, they love taking public transportation. This is one of those excursions that is a must...it's close and cheap.

*Donut Falls
Not sure where this is, but I have heard rave reviews from other locals. We love packing picnics and eating on a blanket, so this will be another inexpensive and nifty day trip.

*Salt Flats/Cement Tree. Wendover, Utah.
I have some sketchy memories of living in a trailer park in Wendover when I was young, but I'm putting on my big girl panties and taking a trip down memory lane. Open land where the kids can run and I can take candid pics....you bet your sweet ass we are going. I hate that tree, but everyone should have the experience of seeing art at it's worst.

*Flaming Gorge
I know what you are saying and I have no answers for you. Never been. I hear how beautiful, close and fantastic this place is and I have yet to see it. I hate camping so ISO: a cheap motel with pool.

*Glendale, Utah
Where? Yeah, it's a little sneeze of a town in Central Utah where, word has it, I am related to everyone in town, including those in the cemetery. The last time I visited I was a kid and my Great Grandma Maxwell lived in a little house on Main Street, where she was formerly the Postmaster. Super cool lady. We are going on family history expedition.

*Mirror Lake, Uinta Mountain Range.
We grew up camping at this breathtaking lake and while I may not be up for a week of shitting in a port-a-potty, I can make it through a night. My kids have never been, so once the snow melts we are headed that way.

So there it it, the summer list. Do you have a favorite place in Utah? Share it in the comments and feel free to  use this list for your own summer adventures.