#2 Wants a New Room

(I don't have the dress winner yet, today's the last day to enter. Come back tomorrow)

*Background: About seven years ago our neighbor was moving. His wife had a tanning bed and since my husband and I were in our mid-twenties and not giving into grown up lives just yet, we bought it, had a 220 put into the guest room downstairs and have used it off and on since then. As the years have passed I've had some moles removed--whether or not it's because of the tanning bed I can't say, but I have fair skin and I've realized it's not a good thing for me. My husband uses it less than me but he's been unwilling to get rid of it. The guest room is a nice room--about 16x16 with a big closet. #2 child moved into her own room a couple years ago, and it's quite small 13x8 with a very small closet. This girl would live at the mall if I'd let her (I won't) and she's turning 12 next week. She's been BEGGING to have the guest room for almost a year. Last night when she asked me, I finally threw my husband under the bus and told her it was 100% up to her Dad and he was the one wanting to keep the tanning bed and that I, in my glorious goodness, would love nothing more than to have her take the guest room--but her villainous father was unrelenting. I suggested she give it a try to convince him. Here's what she sent him in an e-mail (he's out of town for a few days). Oh, and I'm funny about putting my kid's names online so it makes it a bit choppy:


Hey dad!
Well, when i had just turned eight, I had the privilege to move out of the room that #1 ( your first child) shared for several years. Yes it was a big room, but sometimes, when I needed to have my own space, #1 was there and so I could only dream of the day I could finally have my OWN room. Of course I was amazed that I could AT LAST have my VERY OWN room!!!! Yes, I enjoyed every moment of it ( kinda), but about a year or so ago, I realized something. Something that brings me to why I am writing you this.

I need a new room.

Don't get me wrong, I love my room. It's just that room is quite small. And as the years (and months) go by, I have received more stuff. Which doesn't go well with my room. OK it is my fault kinda that I have so much stuff. But the stuff is very important to me. Stuff I want to keep for a long time. And believe me, it's a LOT of stuff. So. . . I was thinking about where I could maybe move my room to. . . And faster than you could say 'supercalifraga--' I GOT IT!!!!! The tanning bed room!!!!! But. . . . . .

Your stupid tanning bed had already taken over that room. My room.

I have thought of possible ways I could somehow, just somehow, get that room. I talked to you and mom about it, but you said ' what will we do with the tanning bed?' I told you to get rid of it, sell it, donate it, move it, BURN IT! Well not the last one, but I was thinking it. Oh and your wife (josi) agrees that we should get rid of it. Haha. Sucks to be you. Just joking.

That room is the PERFECT size for me! It is way spaced and it has a BIG closet!!! Oh I need that too. I think it would be sooooo kewl painting and designing the room. Because it's all up to me. Me. Plus, mom said that she could totally sell the tanning bed on KSL.com! Haha. Yeah so. . . You want that tanning bed. Yes, you do. Well, if you just read on, and yes you have to, you might find out things you didn't know about EVIL tanning beds. Read on, you'll like it. . . .




TANNING BEDS

Just like tanning outside, tanning indoors damages your skin. That's because indoor tanning devices emit ultraviolet rays. Tanning occurs when the skin produces additional pigment (coloring) to protect itself against burn from ultraviolet rays. Overexposure to these rays can cause eye injury, premature wrinkling of the skin, and light-induced skin rashes, and can increase your chances of developing skin cancer. So, are tanning beds bad for you?
Found on: http://www.catalogs.com/info/b2b/are-tanning-beds-bad-for-you.html


most common reason behind the goof up is unawareness. Inadequate knowledge of how much time you should actually spend in the tanning bed leaves many people burnt or charred. In order to gain the best results, most of the people over tan themselves through over exposure to UV or ultraviolet rays emitted by the tanning bed lights. It results in skin cancer or permanent
damage to the skin. The local tanning salons use cheap tanning beds with cheap quality acrylic sheets, which fail to protect the customer from damages.

(this goes on for quite some time--about 2000 words that I'm sparing you)



So what do you think?! I am very proud of myself for doing this. Plus, I missed American Idol to research this, now you KNOW I am serious about this. I really really really really really want a new room! ( and IKEA has really nice designers furniture but for low low low low prices!) So PLEASE email me back! Please!

Free Dress Give Away!

A couple weeks ago I was contacted by Michaella Lawson, owner of Mikarose, a company that sells modest dresses. She asked if I'd be willing to do a dress giveaway on my blog, well I'm a bit a Nazi on stuff like that, I don't like promoting things I don't KNOW first hand even if it is free. But I just happened to be in need of a little black dress because my last little black dress is, well, too little.

So I went to the website and found a dress I loved (Okay, I found several that I loved, but one that I loved a little more than the others) and I ordered the Halle. It arrived last week and I wore it to church on Sunday. It's actually almost the exact same pattern of my most-favorite dress I own that I bought at Downeast Outfitters, except that DO only had it in a couple colors, all with a polka dot design. Well, I'm not a girl that needs more than one polka dot dress so while I love the one I own, I didn't buy any others of the DO dresses. So I was THRILLED when this one was so similar. Honestly, I'm surprised that she offers free give aways on such high quality stuff--call me a cynic but most free stuff is synonymous with cheap stuff. I currently have my eye on another one (the Cynthia even though it's more polkadots--it's super cute) and Now that I'm convinced it's a worthy give away, I'm ready to offer it to you guys. Here are the rules:

1) You have to live in the US or Canada for shipping purposes.

2) You have to go to the Mikarose website and pick out the dress you like. They all have names like Dawn or Ashley or Halle.

3) Come back here and leave a comment with the name of the dress you want. If you're not a blogger you'll need to leave get me your e-mail address so we can contact you if you win. You HAVE to specify a dress you like in order to have a valid entry.

Contest will be open until next Wednesday--February 27--at which time Michaella has a computer thingy that will draw the name and we'll announce it here as well as send you a note. The winner will get a $60 gift certificate they can then use on the Mikarose website to purchase their favorite dress. Dresses are sized XS-XL which covers 0-18.

All dresses are designed with modesty in mind; with high necklines, low hems, long enough sleeves and yet they are designed in a way so as to still be flattering to our girlish figures.

Good luck!

What I did for P-day

I'm a big believer in food storage. Growing up we had 9 kids and one income (my dad was a teacher, so 9 months of income) My mother was nothing short of brilliant when it came to factoring and figuring food for all of us. She spent weeks preserving fruits and vegetables in the summer and fall, she shopped case lot sales, and she baked bread 3 times a week. We had a huuuuuuge storage room called the fruit room, an under the stairs crawl space for veggies, and an extra freezer downstairs. Because dad got paid at the first of every month, we relied on that storage space a lot. We were not well to do, but neither were we poor and we never went underfed because of my parents diligence for food storage. At every phase of my married life I have tried to build up an 'excess' of things we use, but only in the last few years have I had the space and the focus to build up a true one year supply. We have some drypack stuff for emergencies, but I try to keep my focus on things we use and make sure I have lots on hand. The Grocery Game has improved my skills a great deal and I ran out of room, resorting to dropping cans into miscellaneous boxes in my storage room.

A few months ago I went to my mom's house. She and my dad are down to 1 teenager at home and the last few years have been all about downsizing. They don't need the 25 foot fruit room anymore. Instead she had a shelving unit that made me drool--really. I've wanted one ever since and finally, due to all the e-bay stuff I've been selling, I decided I was ready for one and we had the money. If you too are interested, here's how to do it in 36 easy steps:


Day One:

Step One: Spend 10-45 minutes pontificating about the importance of a shelving system that would help you inventory what you have, what you need, and put them in a place the kids can get them for me when you call out for "Cream of Mushroom soup!"

Step Two: Find a "Shelf Reliance" shelving unit. For some people, that means going to the website and ordering it, for me it meant going to walmart where they were on sale for $299.

Step Three: Purchase unit.

Step Four: Cause serious muscle damage trying to unload it from the car by yourself

Step Five: Bat your eyelashes and ask a big-strong-man to help take it downstairs.

Step Six: Open the box, lay out the parts, ignore the instructions because they will only slow you down.

Step Seven: Start putting the unit together on the carpet--the pegs won't fit into the rivets without a hammer but the hammer causes the paint to crack and the metal to vibrate which causes the crossbeams to bounce out of their rivets and smack against your forearms, head, and legs.

Step Eight: Surrender to the instructions which say 1) don't use a hammer because it will chip the paint and cause vibrations that will make assembly difficult. 2) Don't put unit together on carpet.

Step Nine: Go to bed grumbling about the conspiracy of do it yourself projects for which you have no chromosomal right to undertake. Give husband the silent treatment for having a meeting and not being home to help you.

Day Two

Step Ten: Continue to give husband cold shoulder because he has to work today even thought it's a holiday.

Step Eleven: Push boxes out of the way so you can put it together on the cement floor of the storage area itself which is way too small for a job of this size.

Step Twelve: Review the part about not using a hammer after a cross beam smacks into your thumb, rendering it numb.

Step Thirteen: Go to Home Depot and buy rubber mallet, not the nice one that doesn't bounce and chip, but the cheap $5 one that bounces and has pieces that break off--avoid anything that will make this job easier!

Step Fourteen: Ignore instructions again because having a rubber mallet in your possession makes you all powerful. Get to work on the cross beams and note that though the rubber mallet works better, it's not perfect and the crossbeams take a lot of pounding to make them fit in the rivets.

Step Fifteen: Swear a little.

Step Sixteen: Realize you put the crossbeams in the wrong rivets. Take them all out and reluctantly submit to the instructions again which say "Count rivets from the bottom not the top"

Step Seventeen: Attach crossbeams to the correct rivets, beware of impaling pieces of rubber mallet as they fly toward your face. Safety goggles are a wise choice--or if you happen to have sunglasses on your head despite being in the basement, use those.

Step Eighteen: Note that wearing sunglasses in the basement might lead you to miscounting the rivets you can no longer see.

Step Nineteen: Swear some more as you try and pound out the bend you inadvertently put into one of the crossbeams when you tripped over a box in the too-small room and hit your elbow in the other shelves before falling int. . . okay, in truth you have no idea how you managed to bend metal when you have to ask for your husbands help to open a jar of spaghetti sauce. But you did bend it so you now have to fix it.

Step Twenty: If you drink, now would be a good time to mix up a screwdriver. If you don't drink, take a few seconds to cry it out.

Step Twenty-one: With the cross beams finally in place begin putting in the plastic mounting bracket things--begin by trying to make the wrong size fit into the top row. Cry some more.

Step Twenty-two: Worship the instructions and sit down, take twenty minutes and review how this works.

Step Twenty-three: As per the instructions, begin putting in the can racks on the bottom row.

Step Twenty-four: Test one by using a glass jar of pickles.

Step Twenty-five: Grumble about the instructions not saying anything about not using glass items as you clean up the broken jar of pickles.

Step Twenty-six: Test with a can of oats.

Step Twenty-seven: Allow yourself to feel like the smartest freaking person in the entire world for making it work! Enjoy this moment because it won't last long.

Step Twenty-eight: Realize that all cans are not the same size after putting your racks all the same size.

Step Twenty-nine: Redo all the racks. Where is your husband!

Step Thirty: Realize it would make sense to have all the soups together, redo all the racks again.

Step Thirty-one: Realize you didn't put the shelf in the right place in the storage unit and keeping it where it is will not allow you to ever decorate for Christmas again. Cause serious muscle damage putting it where it belongs because you refuse to take all those cans off.

Step Thirty-two: Clean up storage area--it's amazing how much crap you throw into this room, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Step Thirty-three: Bring children and husband in the room to glory over your brilliance. It's so pretty!

Step thirty-four: When husband asks you how long it took, lie. God won't hold it against you, besides He's a bit embarrassed it took you 12 hours too. Three hours is an acceptable time.

Step Thirty-five: Leave door to storage unit open so you can smile every time you see what you made (at this point you're already starting to believe it only took you 3 hours so you're feeling lots better)

Step Thirty-six: Take a picture so you can blog about it.

My little Valentines

I've been married for almost 15 years and though my hubby-man is my sun, moon, stars, and favorite hot cocoa, we've never made that big a deal about Valentine's Day. We have our anniversary in April, and come February we've just survived Christmas gift giving, so other than a funny-sexy card and an excuse to go out to dinner sometime that week, Valentines Day isn't a big deal for the two of us.

A few years ago, however, I started giving valentines to my kids. One year I made little heart pouch things and hung them on their doorknobs full of M&M's--big hit. Another year I wrote down 50 things I loved about them and put them in a jar titled "What I love about you" there was no candy involved so it wasn't quite as fun, but the kids still have them . . . somewhere. And for the last two years I've put little hearts all over their bedroom doors the night before, giving them a heart attack. I then used the letters of their names to come up with some of my favorite things about them.

Two years ago, in May, I had to drop something off to a friend of mine. She worked night shift and had asked that I quietly put it inside her door rather than ring the bell or risk leaving it on the porch. My four year old came with me and when we got back the car she asked me why I went in that ladie's house without knocking.

"Well, she works at night so she's sleeping right now and I don't want to wake her up."

"She works at night?" my daughter repeated, still rather confused.

"Yes, she has a job, like Daddy does, only it's at night time."

"But she's a mom," my daughter said.

I've worked off and on throughout my marriage, but both my husband and I have tried very hard to keep me at home--which is my favorite place to be. I realized that this child had never known a time when I wasn't home so I explained a bit more. "She is a mom," I said. "A very good mom, that's why she's sleeping now while her kids are at school, so she can wake up when they get home. But she works another job to earn money."

"And she works her job at night?"

"Yep," I said. "At night."

"Sometimes you go to work at night."

I figured she was talking about a writing conference I'd been to a few weeks earlier when I'd been gone for a few days. "No, I don't work at night. Sometimes I go away for a few days to, uh, school, but I don't work."

"Yes you do, like that time you put hearts on our door when we were sleeping. That was work."

For me this was ultimate validation. That is my work, my main work, and the fact that I spend hours a day pursuing my career hasn't taken away the fact that my daughter sees my 'work' as her and our family. It was one of those moments that drove me to my knees and helped me thank my Father in Heaven for the bounty he has given me in the role of mother to these amazing spirits.

Me Make Website

Ya know all those caveman jokes "Me Make Fire" well, I feel a little like that. I've had a website for five years and been at the mercy of many far-more-brilliant-than-people (who are suprisingly easy to find based on those specs) to maintain it. I would send them pages and pages of updates and then marvel that they weren't done in half an hour. Are they not at my beckon call?

For the last several months I've contemplated wanting to create and maintain my own website, but after about 15 seconds of such pondering I'd break into a cold sweat and head for my Stephen's hot cocoa. I absolutely HATE learning new things, I like knowing them--it helps with my ever popular know-it-all personality--but I HATE learning it. Part of that is because I don't pick things up very quickly and have to really concentrate--headache--and second of all because there is this weird freaky part of me that thinks it should know everything already. Its horribly offended when it realizes there is something yet unknown. So, the website idea came and went and came and went and came and went.

Until this week.

My friend Stephanie Black had been in the process of doing her own website, and I've listened with half an ear--she falls into that category of smarter-than-me and I thought if she figured it out maybe I'd bribe her into doing one for me. Well, turns out that wasn't necessary. We are both Mac worshipers and at the first of this week she unveiled her new website, made on mac software that publishes to the web at a click of a button. I was intrigued. So, as is my nature, I hounded her with questions, prospering from her pioneering spirit and generous info-givingness.

As of yesterday, my new website is live! I'm so excited to be in charge of my cyber-life. I lost the first one I made due to not backing up (back up people!) and had to start over, but the final version took way less time that I expected, was cheaper than I thought, and far easier than I'd have believed. Total cost was $216--$80 for the 08 version of iLife (of which iWeb is a part), $100 for hosting and other services through .mac, and $74 to renew two of my domain names for two years--but I got $38 refunded because I canceled my previous hosting service early. It took me about 8 hours total time, including the phone time with my previous hosting service that got all the internet stuff figured out for me. Chris at Go Daddy is the Bomb.

So here I am, quite pleased with myself, and ready to catch up on the laundry and dishes and pesky things like that. You can find the site at www.josiskilpack.com and if you find a typo (it is MY website after all)--I can fix it in a couple easy clicks. Power if divine!

And to make my day even more fabo--Rebecca Talley and Stephanie Humphries--both inspiring women--gave me 'You make my day awards' totally lit me up, thanks gals.

Juno Cloverfield

Conversation as it took place at the Kilpack house Friday evening before husband and myself went out:

"So what movie are you going to see?" asks daughter-pouting-because-she-has-to-babysit.

"Juno Cloverfield," I reply as I check to make sure there is dinner available--yes, hotdogs. Score!

Daughter looks at me queerly. "Juno Cloverfield?"

"Yep," says me, the all-knowing-one

"Don't you mean Juno or Cloverfield; they're two different movies. Juno's about a pregnant chick and Cloverfield is about some monster thing."

I give daughter the all famous why-question-my-brilliance look. "No, my dear, It's Juno Cloverfield--Cloverfield is Juno's last name. It's just that most people just call it Juno for short."

Daughter laughs. "They aren't the same movie, mom."

Mother scowls. "Yes they are, you don't know nothin, now go cook some hot dogs."

"Whatever."

Two hours later, after a wonderful dinner; husband and I buy two tickets to see Cloverfield (I know it's Juno Cloverfield because the marquee ONLY says Cloverfield and Juno's only been out for a few weeks so it must be the same one). I smuggle in my almond M&M's, husband buys a popcorn, and I'm looking forward to seeing the movie since I've heard such great things about it.

Nary a pregnant teenager on screen for the entire 100 minutes.

Rather, Cloverfield is about a monster-grasshopper thing that eats people. Who knew? That's not to say it wasn't a good show--if you're the monster-grasshopper-eating type. The filming was very unique and I quite liked it when compared to the other 1001-ways-to-destroy-Manhattan movies.

Conversation as it took place late Friday night when husband and myself return from the movies:

"So, how was Juno Cloverfield?" asks cocky-needs-more-homework-eleven-year-old.

Mom laughs and shakes her head at her own silliness, thus inviting daughter to be well mannered and laugh with her. "I knew they were different movies, I just wanted to see if you'd respect your mother or argue with her. Dad owes me five bucks cause you argued."

"Whatever."

A lot of conversations end with that word.

The Passing of Prophets

Disclaimer: In my church we believe in living prophets, like Abraham and Moses, still live today, that there is only one chosen on the earth at any given time, and that they commune with God. I realize that other people think this is wacky, I can handle that, it does seem a bit wacky unless you've felt confirmation that it's true, as I have. If that sounds even wackier, this post will only make me seem weirder--I'm okay with that too. I'm Mormon, I'm used to being thought of as weird, and I love ya anyway.

I was in the 4th or 5th grade when Spencer W. Kimball passed away. He had been the prophet all my life and I hadn't really thought much about living prophets until the radio told us he'd died right before I left for school. My mom explained that the quorum of the 12 now led the church and that they would all vote, kinda, on who would be next but they had always chosen the most senior apostle so that meant it would be Ezra T. Benson. I had no idea who Ezra T. Benson was and felt a little ripped off that they'd up and change prophets like that. I remember looking up at the sky on my way to school and wondering what was happening in heaven, I mean what did the angels do when a prophet died? Did they cry? Did they rejoice? I hoped they rejoiced.

It was several years before President Benson died, he was the prophet of my rebellious years and he had been sick for a long time--in fact I used that as one of my excuses to rebel, that some sick guy was leading the church. When I came back, I appreciate his humble manner and his continued leadership despite his physical hardships. He was the prophet that signed my husband's mission call and he was prophet when I was married and when my daughter was born. However, when he died Howard W. Hunter was sustained as the new prophet. I LOVED Howard W. Hunter.

Back in 9th grade seminary we had pictures of all the 12 Apostles on the wall and I decided right then that Howard W. Hunter was my favorite one. He had bright blue eyes and a cute bald head, he looked vibrant to me. When someone told me he had no feet due to diabetes I thought he was even cooler (disclaimer: I wasn't that spiritual of a kid, I don't recommend it). When he became prophet his auto biography was released and I determined that I liked him even more. He was raised in an inactive home, played in a cruise-ship band instead of serving a mission, and took care of his ailing wife for 20 years. He was a good man, I resonated with him, and will never forget the day he died not even a year later, making him the shortest serving prophet in the history of the church.

He happened to die on the same day my brother committed suicide, but I can't say that I was much aware of his passing or of Gordon B. Hinckley become prophet because my family was dealing with a lot of personal issues. However, facing my brother's tragic death put many aspects of the gospel into focus for me. I had never appreciated the blessings of my parent's temple marriage so much, I had never sought so hard for the Lord's peace and comfort. It was a turning point for me spiritually and it was Gordon B. Hinckley that led the church as I found myself digging into the meat of the gospel. Don't get me wrong, I knew the truth, I felt it, I believed it, but I hadn't searched for very much knowledge. But I searched now.

I met President Hinckley one time and got to shake his hand. It was about eight years ago. My cousin married the granddaughter of Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, a member of the 12 apostles, and we went to their wedding reception at the Joseph Smith Memorial building. They both had big families and lots of freinds so it was a packed house and were were standing in line to congratulate the bride and groom when someone asked if we could step aside, the prophet was here but he couldn't stay long.

Every head turned in tandem and sure enough, there was the prophet of our church, with his sweet wife Marjorie at his side. My mom's name is Marjorie too. We all did as asked, taking two steps back. He graciously shook our hands as he passed us, saying hello and I was impressed that amid all he had to do, he'd taken time to come to the wedding reception of his friend's granddaughter. Wow. As he finished shaking hands, I looked ahead and groaned. My brother Matt, who was about ten, was painstakingly signing his name to the wedding guest book, having no clue that two feet behind him was the prophet. I tried to send him telepathic messages to move out of the way, but he apparently ignored them and turned just as President Hinckley was shaking hands with the man standing behind Matt in line. Rather than take a step back and be POLITE, Matt went dramatic psycho on us, threw up his hands and went "Whoa, whoa" proceeding to limbo (yes, limbo) under the shaking hands of the prophet and the wedding guest. You could spot his family members by the way we all went red and shouted out apolgies while Matt, completely oblivious, headed to the refreshment table. President Hinckley and his wife just laughed, and the prophet waved at Matt's retreating back before going forward to visit with the bride and groom. Two minutes later he and his wife walked out of the room, again shaking hands with everyone that put their hands out.

It was a little thing, a small moment, and I'm not one for celebrity adulation, but this was a man of God and I could feel it.

On this last Sunday this good and Valiant man was blessed to cross over to the other side, can we even imagine what that was like? How does the Lord welcome one of his chosen sons, a man that truly committed his entire life and every hour of it to the building of the Lord's church? It boggles the mind to imagine the love and joy that led his way to the eternities that evening. But I have little doubt that he was scanning first for his dear wife, the sweetheart of his youth, the wife of his golden years. Just envisioning the moment makes me want to live a bit better, try a little harder, maybe stand a little taller even.

And what a comfort it is to know that even with his passing, the keys to the priesthood and to the gospel still remain, that in a few days we will sustain a new president and pray for his guidance just as we have prayed for the men that proceeded him. The Gospel is a beautiful thing.

To catch up is Divine!

So I'm selling all this stuff on eBay and burning out quick, but we've made 2K so it's all good. I have these three books that I poke out now and then to see if they are still alive, they jiggle, convincing me of their non-DOA status and I ignore them again because I haven't decided which one to obsess over. But amid all those BIG things, I've had all these little things biting the back of my ankles and making me nuts. You know the type of thing, right, the little things you put off because you know they will only take a little while, and that little while is just around the corner, and you're not really in the mood right now, and heaven knows you can't do this stuff if you're not in the mood. Yeah, you got it.

So, last night I laid in bed and one by one these things paraded in front of my clenched-shut eyes

• A workshop presentation on authors voice

• A young women's presentaion on Divine Nature

• A bio and blub for my authors voice presentation

• Do I know what author's voice is?

• three 10 page critiques

• 1 partially finished edit for a full manuscript for a freind

• 1 as of yet unstarted full manuscript edit for a freind

• An article on the grocery game for LDSneighborhood

• Author notes for Her Good Name (assuming it gets accepted)

• Acknowledgment, dedication and about the author for Her Good Name (assuming it gets accepted)
• Visiting teaching, two of my sisters are going to a new ward on Sunday because of a split and I haven't taken cookies yet. Everyone knows you can't leave on non-cookie terms.
  

This is all in addition to that regular driving kids, feeding kids, yelling at kids, apologizing to kids, washing kids clothes, kissing kids husband hello, kissing kids husband goodbye, cleaning up after kids, yelling at kids again and driving kids some more. But all these little things writing-related things were just niggling at me. I've been telling several of them to sit down and shut up for a few weeks, but they were running out a patience and conspiring to completely undo me. For some reason, a lot of little projects are usually far more overwhelming than one big project for me. I hate to admit it, but I think it's because I'm horribly task oriented. I was raised to think this was a negative thing, that it showed you lacked the ability to self-motivate yourself and only sought for the completion--well, I took my kids sledding the other day on the lids to the rubbermaid containers down stairs and I've shared my shower stall with 8 barbies for over a week--it's time to shake off the pretenses of pride and self-motivation and admit that I just like getting things DONE.

I like my kitchen to be DONE, even though I know it will be messy again in 10.8 seconds. I like my laundry DONE, even though I know I'll just throw another load in in the morning. I like my grocery shopping DONE, and my lesson DONE, and my hair DONE. Whoever it was that said the journey was half the fun was baboon-butt-crazy. The joy for me is getting it DONE, and then I admit that it wasn't so bad, that it was cool figuring out the right way to put the bobby pins or that thegrocerygame is a bit of a high, but I see none of this until the task is DONE.

So this morning I woke up and amid all the heavy discouragement of the piled up tasks, I did something remarkable--I just did it. Well, most of it. I focused on the smaller tasks, the ones I knew I could complete and I dove right in.

I wrote out the notes, I finished the critiques, I wrote the blurb, compiled the presentation notes, did a rough draft of one presentations, wrote a particularly funny about the author. I submitted the articles, packaged a few eBay sales, took a shower, did my hair AND makeup (is it my husband's birthday?) And here I am about to take my kindergartener to school with all these DONE things to my credit. I am truly basking!

I still have the two full manuscript edits, but I'm making progress. I'm reminded of a quote from a former president and prophet of my church, Spencer W. Kimball

Do it
Do it right
Do it right now!

Low and Behold I have ANOTHER fabulously talented freind and writer who also entered this contest and made the semi-finals in the Myster, Thrilled, and Suspense catigory.

Heather Moore, also known as the elusive H.B. Moore (the paparazzi were horrendous, hence the anonymity...sorta) entered her book Queen into the Amazon contest and she is actually listed as the first person in that catigory, which is a good thing since there are 200 semi-finalists there. I had the privilege of reading this book in it's entirety--holy schmoly is it an intense read. It's based upon the legend of the Queen of Sheba and really is an amazing look into archeology and the ancient cultures of the middle east as well as the current unrest of our day. Fascinating and entertaining all wrapped into one story.

It works the same way as Julie's book, you download and read the excerpt then leave a review. Did I mention that when you leave a review you're entered into a drawing too? Yeah, pretty cool says I!

So follow this link to get to Heather's book.

Amazon Breakout Novel Award

Amazon is sponsoring a contest--I knew nothing about until a friend of mine (cough Julie Wright cough) admitted she entered it on the sly, not wanting to tell anyone unless she didn't make it. Whatever! So she, and 4,999 or so writers entered this contest back in Novemeber and the semi-finalists were annouced today--same day as the Whitney award, weird. And she made the sem-finals!!!!! (yes, this is deserving of exclamation marks as well)

I'm not a bit surprised, the story is awesome and I think she absolutely has a shot to win this thing. However, the voting is based in part on reviews left on a 5,000 word short of the book which can be downloaded or sent to your e-mail address via Amazon. IF you're interested in reading Julie's, or any other semi finals, go to this website http://www.amazon.com/b?node=332264011

Once there, about the middle of the page you can see the genre links. Click on Romance.

You'll be shown the first page of the semi-finalist shorts. Julie's is toward the bottom of the first page, first one on the right, titled "The Day my Subconscious Betrayed me" by clicking on the link you can get the excerpt sent to you in a variety of ways.

After you've had a chance to read through it, go back and leave a review. The winner of the Amazon Breakout Novel Award gets a publishing contract through Penguin--Fabulous!

I Made it!!!!!!!!!

Typically, using several exclamation points such as I did in the title of this blog is frowned upon and is a sign of ignorance. I'm never one to defend my ignorance, but I do know that rules are made to be broken and hence this announcement is worthy of such grammatical impudence. Talk about starting the day off with a BANG--today, at 7:00 a.m. the finalists for the first annual Whitney Awards were posted at www.whitneyawards.com and I made the top five in the mystery/suspense category!

Whoo-freaking-hoo!!!

Big HUGE sloppy thanks to all of those readers that nominated Sheep's Clothing, there is no doubt I'd have never made it without readers that liked the book enough to take the time to vote, so thank you, thank you, thank you! It is a huge validation to have my cover among so many great writers. In my category are some absolutely amazing authors that I greatly admire and I'm on cloud nine to be in a group with them even though I've little doubt they will kick my butt into next Tuesday--still, I'm in their club for the moment.

Now, ballots will be sent to the academy, which includes LDS fiction industry professionals such as publishers, bookstore owners, reviewers, and the members of LDStorymakers which is a writer's guild made up of LDS published authors. They will vote for one title among the five finalists and the winners will be announced at The Whitney Award Gala on March 22nd, following the LDStorymakers writers conference (which, BTW, is half full, so if you were planning to register but haven't gotten around to it yet, understand that there is a cap on this years attendance and we're filling up a lot faster than we had planned on. You can register online through www.ldstorymakers.com)

As for the other finalists, here is a list:

Best Novel of the Year

Dragon Slippers
by Jessica Day George

Out of Jerusalem, Vol. 4: Land of Inheritance
by Heather Moore

On the Road to Heaven
by Coke Newell

The Operative
by Willard Boyd Gardner

Upon the Mountains
by Gale Sears

Best Novel by New Author

Dragon Slippers
by Jessica Day George

Wet Desert
by Gary Hansen

Counting Stars
by Michele Holmes

Beyond the Horizon
by Judy C. Olsen

On the Road to Heaven
by Coke Newell

Romance/women’s fiction

Counting Stars
by Michele Holmes

Desire of Our Hearts
by Sariah Wilson

Eclipse
by Stephenie Meyer

The Independence Club
by Rachel Ann Nunes

Loyalty's Web
by Joyce DiPastena


Mystery/Suspense

The Deep End
by Traci Hunter Abramson

Grave Secrets
by Marlene Austen

Hazardous Duty
by Betsy Brannon Green

The Operative
by Willard Boyd Gardner

Sheep's Clothing
by Josi Kilpack

Young Adult/Children's

Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians
by Brandon Sanderson

Bullies in the Headlights
by Matthew Buckley

First Day
by Allyson B. Condie

How to Take the Ex Out of Ex-Boyfriend
by Janette Rallison

Rise of the Evening Star (Fablehaven, Book II)
by Brandon Mull

Speculative Fiction

Book of a Thousand Days
by Shannon Hale

Dragon Slippers
by Jessica Day George

Hunting Gideon
by Jessica Draper

The Lights of Mahonri Moriancumer
by Phyllis Gunderson

The Well of Ascension (Mistborn, Book II)
by Brandon Sanderson

Historical

Beyond the Horizon
by Judy C. Olsen

Out of Jerusalem, Vol. 4: Land of Inheritance
by Heather Moore

On the Road to Heaven
by Coke Newell

Spires of Stone
by Annette Lyon

Upon the Mountains
by Gale Sears

*I'm ashamed to admit I haven't read several of these, but I'm putting them on my list, my goal is to read all of these books by the time of the Gala. Knowing that these were the best of each category gives me confidence that the time won't be wasted.

My Brain is too Small

This has nothing to do with the fact that my head is small, because I think it's quite average--though it naturally tilts to the side a bit when I think I'm holding it straight--but it's my brain I'm more worried about.

I'm the first to admit (rant about, pout, whine etc.) about having a busy life. I have a 5 acre piece of land to care for along with goats, chickens, oh, and four kids. I like to cook, I like my house to look tolorably livable and I prefer that my family have clean underwear. I write books and articles, I blog, I fulfull my callings at church. All these things take energy and brain space, and quite frankley there is only so much to go around. I think mine is officially full to brimming. In fact things like blogging, articles, clean underwear and cooking have recently been put into storage in order for me to make room for other stuff. Here's why:

My husband--bless his sleeping-in-today-while-I've-been-up-since-5:00 heart--is a dyed in the wool entrepreneur. Since our marriage he has owned at least a dozen different businesses and he is no respecter of industry. He's owned a telemarketing floor, assisted living facilities, cable reseller, horse racing business, and an eBay software company. He's been quite successful in all these ventures and is right now gearing up to start another one.

However, he's also had concepts that have not come to fruition, such as the idea to open up his own drop shipper for people that sell on eBay. What a drop shipper is, is (I bet I'm not supposed to have two iss together am I?) where someone can sell something on eBay, or yahoo or whatever, and not really own it. They pre-purchase it from a drop shipper but it isn't sent . Then they list it, sell it, and notify the drop shipper who then mails it for them. In essence the drop shipper is the consumate middle man. So my hubby had this idea in summer 2006 and in true Kilpack style he jumped in with both feet, ordering tons of stuff he could get through liquidation companies. These items began rolling in while he was developing the website, and then he decided to go another direction and he sold the company. The guy that bought it was going to continue this drop shipper thing, but he didn't. So all these items sat, and sat, and sat. Finally, my husband rented the office the items were being stored in and so he moved them to a storage unit at which point his terribly brilliant and martyish wife (that's me) asked him why he was storing all this stuff and why he didn't sell it on eBay?

"Great idea," he says. "Have fun."

Wait? What just happened here?

And so, here I am selling on eBay and paying daily homage to Julie Wright who works full time for eBay, runs a store, raises 3 kids, writes books, AND sells on eBay. I am not Julie Wright and all this stuff has given me a headache--the kind of headache where you wait at any moment for aliens to punch a hole through your skull in order to get out of there.

I've sold 30+ items and have 15 or so auctions going right now. I've had to learn about shipping rates (I got thoroughly taken on my first few auctions) I'm buying boxes and can tell you what a zone 6 means through the post office (in a nutshell it means that even though an item weighs not-so-much, the box size is so big that you pay double on shipping) I've had two auctions canceled because the buyers were hackers that hacked into someone else's account, I've given one full refund because the item (a $100 computer monitor) was damaged when it arrived. I am making daily treks to the post office and UPS and I can't sleep at night because I listed some iPod Nanos as new and then found out they were refurbished. I'm certain someone is going to send a mail bomb to my house for lying to them.

I know that most people could handle this, and it makes me very angry that I feel so overwhelmed, but I dream of things like sending the wrong item to the wrong person or having someone tell me that their child died of anaphalactic shock because a cat hair got into their box.

The good news is that I've made about $1000 so far and since these items were purchased so long ago, I have no idea how much was paid for them so I am more concerned with getting stuff out of my poor office (see photo) than I am about making my money back.

So, anyhoo, that's what's going on with me. I am hoping my brain waves will even out here soon and I won't feel quite so overwhelmed. As for now, you can find me on eBay. My tag name is Ismylee and if you're looking for a wristwatch style blood pressure kit, or an 8gb no name MP3 player--I'm your seller!

Final Hours for Whitney Nominations!

Just a reminder that reader votes for the first annual Whitney Awards are due by midnight on December 31st 2007. However, since at that time many of us will either be snogging with someone special, or eating that last piece of pizza, or taking another aspirin so we can deal with the kids for another half hour, you might want to get your votes in earlier than rather than later. For a list of books check out LDSpublisher’s blog, where she has kindly kept a runny tally of the eligible books, though it might be missing some.

There has been a lot of flack for LDSfiction and some of it has been deserved; poorly written, trite storylines, peachy, unrealistic, cheesy—all those things can apply to certain books—which is why it’s so important to reward those titles that break those negative impressions and make a difference. The whole goal of the Whitney is to recognize those books that are of the quality readers want, but it only works if you take the time to nominate those books that you felt are worthy of emulation in the industry. This really is a pinnacle achievement for LDSfiction as a whole, as it’s the first time a reader driven “rating” system has been put in place. Please, please, please, if you read any books from the list that really made a good impression on you, take the time to nominate. You can nominate multiple titles in multiple categories or in the same category (though only one vote per book per category), you can nominate both traditionally published and self-published books, national market and LDS market so long as they were written by and LDS author. Don’t be shy, the award depends on YOU! (picture Rob Wells with a beard, a red, white, and blue top hat and his finger pointed)

For more information on how the award works, or to nominate a book, go to www.whitneyawards.com

Awards will be announced at the first annual Whitney Awards Gala that will be held March 22—reservations can now be made through the LDStorymakers writers’ conference registration page at www.ldstorymakers.com

Thanks for all the great support!

12 'Tings bout Christmas

Mothering on the Edge tagged me for Christmas so I gotta hurry--

1. List 12 random things about yourself that have to do with Christmas
2. Please refer to it as a 'hoopla' and not the dreaded 'm'-word (Josi doesn't even know what the m-word is but she's trying really hard to think of all the dirty words that start with M that she's ever heard.)
3. You have to specifically tag people when you're done. None of this "if you're reading this, consider yourself tagged" stuff is allowed...then nobody ends up actually doing it. The number of people who you tag is really up to you -- but the more, the merrier to get this 'hoopla' circulating through the blogosphere.
4. Please try and do it as quickly as possible. The Christmas season will be over before we know it and I'd like to get as many people involved as possible.

1. My husband left for his mission on December 19 18 years ago (holy cow that's a long time) And he gave me this Christmas mouse made out of a 2 liter bottle he bought at a craft fair at his work. I kept it up for two years and it has survived all 4 kids. It's super cute.
2. My parents make fried oysters every Christmas morning. total yuck-fest. And they are spending Christmas with me this year, gotta clothespin? (do clothespins on your nose really work?)
3. My favorite Christmas song is "Oh Holy Night" Glen Beck did a version of that song where he took out all religious references so it went like "Oh beautiful-non-religious night ... it is the night of no-one-mportant's birth" makes me laugh my head off, but I still like the original version better.
4. I couldn't point out a Bing Crosby song if I would make $1000 getting it right.
5. I used to get into the "designer" tree but I've repented. Now my tree is full of all kinds of hideous ornaments made by my children and I love it.
6. We have English trifle for Christmas Eve every year--without the sherry.
7. I have a sister and a nephew and a second cousin all born on Christmas day--sucks to be them.
8. I have never put up Christmas lights
9. For years my kids were convinced we didn't have lights because their uncle wouldn't put it up for them. I was awesome. However, they are on to me now and know that I'm just lame that way.
10. I watched "It's a Wonderful Life" for the first time five years ago. It's really a pretty good movie even if it is black and white.
11. I'm waiting for someone to remake it, staring Mathew McConehey (can't spell his name, sorry) and the girl that Mr. Holland wanted to have an affair with in Mr. Holland's Opus.
12. I hate most holidays--they're dumb--but I do like this one so long as I don't tell myself it has to be just right.

As for who I'm tagging--Barbara, Marcia Mickleson, Tristi, Piper of Love.

Elf Wanted: Must be Reliable!

Our tooth fairy sucks. I don't know how we ended up with her, but she should never have been graduated from tooth fairy school. Not only does it take her weeks to actually do her job, but she seems to forget from one tooth to the next how much she's supposed to leave. My children have grown up with a complex about it, worried they aren't as important as other kids and therefore she doesn't give them priority. And then when she leaves a dollar for this one and fifty cents to another it causes all kinds of problems. If I paid her, I'd fire her, but I don't pay her, she pays the kids for freaking teeth, so it's hard to complain, but it would sure help me out if she'd be consistent in the execution of her tasks. If I knew how to contact the tooth fairy board I'd be sorely tempted, however, I don't believe it's any kind of accident that this information is not public knowledge. The tooth fairy I had growing up wasn't much better, so maybe it's an overall moral issue going on among the organization.

I think I figured out why she's so horrible though, I've determined she's an elf. A small elf, with wings and a dental fetish, but an elf all the same. And elves, I know without a doubt, are the most unreliable of creatures. If I ever doubt this I need only wait for Christmas to be reminded of why elves are not to be trusted.

See, we have a Christmas elf stay in our tree every December. Some might say that it's nothing more than a demented need to lie to my children more often--whatever. I have plenty of opportunity to lie to my children (your face will stay that way, I don't have any money, I love watching the plays you make up) I don't need to come up with such detailed and effort-invoking lies such as this.

So we have an elf. And every morning in the month of December the elf leaves candy for the kids if they've been good the day before. He leaves these treats in the match box bed I made him some fourteen Christmases ago (I'm nice that way) and the reason he stays in his match box bed in the tree is so he can report to Santa how the kids are doing. Never mind that he somehow watches the kids during the day, they can't see him, but he supposed to making toys too--let's not get distracted. Sometimes he leaves little notes for the kids--they love that. However, he, like his cousin the tooth fairy, sucks at his job. Too often he forgets to leave treats, making them question ME about why he didn't come. Well, how am I supposed to know?

"Weren't we good yesterday?"
"Is he telling Santa we were bad?"
"Does he hate the tree?"

And so in addition to the issues of tooth fairy malfeasance (not sure if that's the right word, but it sounds really cool) they have the additional weight of being unfairly treated by the Christmas elf as well. I have to ask, is there no shame for these creatures? Have they no respect for the role they play in the lives of my children! I mean, really, I'm not sure it's all that necessary for us to have these kind of "Helpers" if they can't be reliable. More trouble than they're worth says I.

Anyway, if you know any GOOD elves out there, the kind that follow through and give the children they serve the delight and joy they are supposed to create, send them my way.

At least our Christmas elf goes when the tree does. Unfortunately, my kindergartener has four loose teeth. I better buy some kleenex, or heck, maybe I ought to do it myself . . . nah, I've got enough to do.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

10 Random Facts about me

I got tagged and y'all won't believe who tagged me. MY BROTHER. Yeah, I know I've said my family doesn't read my blog, and they don't (cause if they did they would have claimed the reward $$ and they haven't), but he tagged me on myspace, but I, like, have to play cause a family member actually tagged me! Makes me feel all kinds of special. The tag is 10 totally random things about me, then I tag 10 people and tell why I tagged them. So here we go;

1--I threw away a dead chicken today. Don't know how it died, it was a real pretty one too. Were I a REAL woman I'd have made it into soup and stuffed a pillow. Instead, I used a KFC Bucket (ironic, huh) to help scoop it into the garbage sack, then I threw it in the garbage like I do with all my dead chickens.

2--I was listening to Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days" when I got my tattoo.

3--I took cookies to my tattoo artist a week later, I'm pretty sure he thought my friends and I were the freakiest people he'd ever tattooed before.

4--I once had a pet iguana named Cruncher. I made a mug with his name on it in my high-school pottery class. He ran away anyway, danged ungrateful reptile. Cold blooded, that was.

5--I've watched 4 of the 5 Harry Potter movies in the last two days--the one I missed is #4 cause it's in the car and it's cold in the garage.

6--I absolutely despise the Simpsons. You will never find the show on in my house, you will never find a sticker, t-shirt, post-it note, or mug with a Simpson anything on it.

7--About once a month I dream that the fronts of my teeth fall off. Totally freaks me out.

8--About once a month I want to throw rocks at the world and everyone in it, that has nothing to do with the dreams though--it's a girl thing.

9--I once took a cat to the animal shelter and let my kids believe it ran away. It was a mean cat though--even if it's name was Rose Angel Star Princess (I had two little girls at the time) It's name would have been pukeface-meany-cat if I'd have named it.

10--If I had to choose between feeding, bathing, rocking to sleep, or changing the stinky diaper of a baby--I'd choose the diaper.

To tag:
Jules--cause she's funny and I like to see if I know everything about her yet
Crystal S--cause she just started a blog and I think she runs deep, very very deep.
Tami--cause I haven't tagged her for awhile.
Luisa--for no good reason other than the fact that she's entertaining.
Kymburlee--same reason as Lousia
Annette--Cause she's annette; I always tag annette.
Heather--Cause I always tag her too.
Jeanette--cause she makes me laugh
Sandra--cause I don't think I've ever tagged her before
Ajoy--cause she wants me to tag her, I can FEEL it

Have fun y'all. Let me know when you're answers are up.

Neighbor Gifts via. Utah Mormons

For those reading this that are not Mormon or are Mormon and outside of Utah, here's a little information that will make this rest of this blog make more sense. A Mormon congregation is divided along geographical boundaries according to members living in that area and is then called a ward. The clergy and auxiliary leaders for each ward live in those boundaries. Since Utah was settled by Mormons and that we reproduce at higher rates than most of the country (no, we don't do the polygamy thing but the average Mormon family has 4 kids and twenty years ago the average Morman family had 7)--we have a lot of Mormons here. A ward can be as small an area of two blocks depending on how many Mormons live in that area, which means that you go to church with your neighbors, you serve on PTA, carpool with, coach and cheer for your neighbors kids who, many of them, also go to your same church. Mormons worship weekly, and the youth have weekly activities so we're together A LOT just for church things. For Mormons outside of Utah, they might be the only Mormon in five miles, so it's different, but here we get tangled up in one another's lives. It's great, except when it's not, and it's not so great when you have to figure out who to give neighbor gifts to and who not to give neighbor gifts too--hence, the following insanity:

Most non-Utahns or non-Mormons probably give some cookies to your immediate neighbors based on the 2 house rule--two house to the left, right, and across the street. Yeah, that's how it starts for us too, but then . . .

Your visiting teacher who lives one door away to one of those ‘immediate’ neighbors brings you something and you realize you should bring her something too, she is your visiting teacher and directly related to your salvation after all. So you take her some and Sister Wilson, who is in her seventies and lives in between the VT and the immediate neighbor, sees you doing it when she comes out to get her newspaper. You go home all kinds of worried about hurting sister Wilson’s feelings since you realize that you just gave cookies to the neighbor on each side of her, and she SAW you. So you whip up another batch and take some to Sister Wilson, only then realizing that her real sister, Sister Larsen, who is a dour old bat and lives a street over, probably didn’t get many cookies this year since she made that comment about women who wear make-up were practically prostitutes. Yet, Sister Wilson will surely brag (they are your ginger cream cookies after all and when you made them for the ward social last year everyone raved about them so you know she'll brag too) so you make another batch and take some to sister Larsen, who gives you a dirty look before she takes the plate and slams the door while mumbling something about Maybelline and a curse of immorality.

Amid your grumbling about her rudeness, you realize it’s just wrong that you give and ungrateful witch like Sister Larsen cookies, and don’t give any to Sister Nebeker, who’s husband died last month. And right before Christmas too! So you take her some cookies, then feel even more guilty about not giving some to the Petersons who were a big part of George getting his Eagle this year. And if you’re going to give to the Petersons, well the Pinkstons teach Fred's Cub scouts, and by not giving them a plate of cookies are you basically saying that cub scouts is a wannabe organization? Isn’t a wolf as important as an Eagle in the developing of a boys self esteem? So the Pinkstons get some, and then you have to give something to the activity days leader so that you’re not saying your boys are more important than your girls—even if they do only meet twice a month and don’t give badges. The Young Womens president is next, and don’t the councilors work hard too? By now you’re out of butter and ginger, so you’re tying up microwave popcorn with ribbon and taking it over.

Then you realize that the kid’s primary teachers deserve some thoughtfulness (though you’re down using Kool-aid packets and a cute poem—mountain berry burst is really hard to rhyme to). And what about the Primary president? And your husband is in Elder’s quorum. By now you’re putting bologna sandwiches together, but you’re almost out of bread. The Bishop is way more important than the EQ president even if all callings are equal in the sight of the Lord, so you give him one too . . . And his councilors. And then that one sister—you know who she is—makes a comment about those nice ginger creams she saw at Sister Wilson’s house and you feel bad since she did bring you dinner when you had the baby two years ago, so you rob your local veterinarian clinic to buy more butter and ginger, then you feel bad about the burglary, even though it was for a really good reason, and so you take them some cookies too while they clean up the glass and tranquilize the kenneled dogs that haven't been the same since the break in.

On your way home from that you realize that the only people on the block that didn’t get something from you are the non-members. What kind of statement does that make? So you start pulling ornaments off the tree—they look new enough. Then you worry that those non-members will say something to the other non-members in the ward boundaries, so you throw the candy set aside for sockings into ziploc sandwich bags. After dropping them off you wonder if you remembered the women you visit teach? Did you get your husbands home teaching families? What about Sunday School teachers, high-councilor and recently returned RM who’s having a hard time adjusting and still wears his name tag? You give away the chocolate Santas, baking chocolate and the last bag of cat food, but it’s the thought that counts after all.

As you finish up the last few things Christmas eve, you realize you forgot to get anything to replace the stocking stuff you used, so you run down to the 7-11 and find a nice assortment of auto decals, Dr. Pepper and allergy medication. You also determine that next year you’re not going to do this, you’re going back to the two house rule since you've used up all your food storage and haven't yet wrapped a single present. And then you get home to find a sweet card from Sister Nebeker thanking you for the delicious ginger creams and you realize that this is what Christmas is all about, stressing yourself to the max and putting all your energy into something so stupid.

Timeshare Pitch--OY!

So last weekend I was at the chocolate show in Salt Lake. So was a timeshare company. I avoid these people like I avoid annoying relatives and each time I passed their booth I became fascinated by something on the ceiling. I am not one to be fooled . . . again. See, my husband and I have been to pitches before--you know, they give you a free dinner, or overnight stay in order to duct tape you to a chair and convince you that you're only chance at happiness is timeshare ownership.

We've done these before and when we said no, I felt like absolute garbage. I swear the guy had tears in his eyes. I felt horrible while eating my dinner, sure that I was responsible for this man's family having to eat from garbage cans behind the hotel (I was 22 and not nearly as cynical as I am now). Another time we said yes, and you'd think we cured cancer for the joy the whole office experienced. We were excited, until we tried to use our first bonus week. It was a nightmare, as was the next attempt, and the next, and the next. After a year I wrote a four page letter to the company demanding a refund for their having misrepresented the product. They responded with a form "sorry, but it's not our problem." I do not get ripped off quite so easily and so I wrote another letter, not only to the guy that responded, but to their main offices as well. I included the addresses for my local chapter of the Better Business Bureau and Consumer Protection so they would know I was serious. I got a full refund within two weeks and within the year helped my sister and my cousin with their own letters since it was a nightmare for them too.

Thus, based on my past experience--you can imagine my surprise when I found my husband in the grips of this timeshare saleswoman.

"We can get a two night stay and dinner just for listening to the presentation," he said as if he hadn't been sitting next to me through our other pitch experiences.

I wanted to say "You've got to be kidding me!" instead I said, "Are you sure?"

"We can go for my birthday next week.

Well, how do I argue with that?

So last night we checked into our hotel in Park City. It's very nice here. After we checked in and peeked in on the football game in triple overtime, we went to our presentation. It was supposed to last 90 minutes. I was hoping for one of the skanky girl salespeople, or one of the gangster looking male salespeople. I can say no to people like that. I got the fresh faced nice guy. I knew right then we were in trouble. However, the following things kept me secure in our practices answer of NO:

We have no money.
We already own a timeshare at Snowbird that we love.
We hate complicated reward programs.
We don't want to be tied into one type of vacation.
It was very very expensive.
We are not spontaneous decision makers (unless my husband is looking for a get away for his birthday)
We know sales, we know all the tricks.
We are educated, smart people
We'd already decided to say no.
We had no reason to say yes.

We beleived all these things. We said all these things. We said no several times, but that only got us a sweeter deal. We were there for almost 4 hours. Mr. Nice Guy was very very nice.

So, did we buy? Of course we did--but at least I can say it was my husband's fault. There is security in that.

That KISS!!

This isn't a tag or a meme or anything like that, but I just finished watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy (again) and read Julie Wright's blog (which if you haven't read, you really really should) and I was thus inspired on a blog topic--kissing, or more specifically, kisses. Those great movie kisses that make your toes curl. I've thought of four that are my absolute favorites, and would love to hear from the rest of you which ones I missed.

4) Beauty and the Beast--Disney Cartoon. This is probably my favorite Disney cartoon, and a big reason for that is because of that ending kiss. You can picture the scene, right? The beast has just been levitated and rays of light has shot out of his fingers and toes (which I thought was a little odd looking) and he twists and the cape wraps him up in a cocoon and then he holds out his hands and realizes he human again. The first thing he does is turn to Belle, and she narrows her eyes suspiciously, then reaches toward him and says "It is you" and then they share a fabulous (even in cartoon) kiss. Breathtaking.

3) Princess Bride--The narrator even preps us by telling us there have been five kisses in the history of the world (or something like that) to outdo all kisses and this one tops them all. Buttercup and Wesley are on horseback after just having escaped Humperdinks castle and they move in slow as the sun comes up behind them, sealing the love they have both suffered without for so long. Very well done.

2) Spiderman 1--yep, it's the one where he's hanging upside down and MJ peels back his mask and they have a big ol sloppy passionate kiss in the rain. I saw Toby on a talk show and he said that was the most uncomfortable scene because he couldn't breathe with the mask pulled up and nearly choked on the water. But, hey, it looked AWESOME. I tried really hard to talk my husband into recreating it for me--no dice. Good thing I own the DVD.

1) Having just finished Return of the King, there is simply no better kiss than the one between elf-girl (Aerowen--can't say it or spell it but you know who I mean) and new king-man (Arogan or Strider or somthing like that. I'm really horrible with the names in that movie) and he's just been crowned and she emerges from behind a banner. he takes a step toward her, incredulous that after all that's happened, she's here. And just as you think they are going to draw it out and end in a sweet kiss of tenderness, he dives in and captures her mouth in a passionate, all-telling reminder of just how strong their love for one another is. Wow--it just doesn't get better than that.

Don't ya think? So which kisses am I missing?

***disclaimer: I may have gotten scene details wrong, but this is how I remember it. If I'm wrong then it only means this is how they SHOULD have been :-)

I Won!

A few weeks back, my new friend Daizie at Looking Beyond A Cracked Window mentioned a contest her friend runs each month for different writing exercises. I surfed on over to read about it and the topic was My Ideal Day. I have to admit I'd been in a bit of a funk. Fall is my favorite time of year, but it's so incredibly busy. I had just finished a book that had stressed me out, Halloween was coming (and I hate Halloween) and I was just in one of those places where the joy is hard to find amid the tasks at hand. It was therefore intriguing and refreshing to consider what my ideal day would be. I can't remember the last time I just wrote for creativity sake. It was wonderful and freeing and it was nice to feel successful at something when I actually finished the project and linked back to the contest page. I read some of the other entries as well and they were very good. I was intrigued with how different each ideal day could be for different people. I didn't hear anything on the results and kept telling myself to go check in--and then on Friday I got a flurry of congrats and e-mails from friends and fellow participants congratulating me on having won! Not only did I win, but the judges gave excellent feedback and I am definitely a feedback hound. It's priceless to know what works for other people.

Anyway, I'm flattered and humbled and very grateful. Hop on over to Judith~Heartsong and you can read about the contest and the essays that were entered. Also, stay tuned for the November contest.