breakin up is hard to do



No this picture is not relevant in any way, shape, or form.
I just thought it was funny.

 You meet through a friend. You're a bit worried, but they soon win you over with their charisma and wonderful personality. You begin to build a relationship based on trust with them, and it becomes more and more difficult to remember what your life was like without them in it.

Then things change. You don't know if you can continue the relationship--although you REALLY want to. It's not bad at all, just hard. It becomes even harder when distance is thrown into the mix. You know you have to break the news, but you just don't know how. You begin to wonder if you will ever find someone worthy enough to attempt to fill their shoes. Each day becomes more and more stressful, because you know the longer you put it off the harder it becomes to say what needs to be said. You have been a ball of stress for weeks because you just don't know how to break the news...

*   *   *   *   *



No I'm not talking about Mr. Wonderful and I. Don't worry, we are great. Better than great-we are SWELL...is swell better than great?

I'm talking about my hairdresser. She is wonderful and fabulous, has become a great friend, and about the only one I trust with my tresses. She is the reason so many envy my hair-I don't know what she does, but she's magic. I can't say enough nice things about her. I simply adore her. I have been seeing her for about two and a half years and I LOVE her. There's only one problem. She's expensive. Like $120 every eight weeks expensive. When I was working at Joe's I could justify the expense because it was all tip money. Even after I quit I made it work because I love her so much. Your hair is the ONLY thing you wear every day so it should look great, right?

Looking into buying a home has made me REALLY evaluate my budget and where I have placed my priorities. My fear of failing and/or being a failure ranks right up there with being alone, so I'm trying to trim as much fat off my spending as possible. I got the perfect out about a week ago when she emailed me to let me know she had left the salon I saw her at and was looking at other places. Instead of telling her 'good luck' I said she had my business as long as she wanted it-which is true-but right now it's just a stretch. I thought I might have a little time, but she emailed me a few days later and said she'd taken a job at a salon in Daybreak and she hoped to see me soon. (She used to be 10 minutes away from my house) Aw crap. Now I feel like a total tool. I want to keep seeing her, I LOVE her and trust her with my hair implicitly, I just can't afford her anymore.

How do you tell someone you've built a relationship with and come to love like family that it's just not working anymore? And most importantly, how do you find someone to replace excellence?

for the birds

'Day' trips to St. George (i.e. back-to-back days of driving to and from) are totally for the birds. As of right now there's only one person who can get me to make said trips-although when the time comes I'm sure I will do the same for her sister:


My beautiful Birthday Princess
FYI she has a swimsuit, Princess dress-up crown AND skirt
on as well as the towel cover-up thingy. She's a rockstar.

 It was the Bug's birthday celebration this weekend. Well actually her birthday isn't until Friday but Mom's first first day back from maternity leave with the Chunky Monkey is Saturday the 2nd. She didn't want to overload herself, so she chose to get it done before hand. Since MY co-worker is on maternity leave too I have no time off so I had no choice but to high-tail it after work on Saturday.

Bug is the smartest, prettiest, sassiest two-year old around. We had so much fun counting "one...two...THREE!" and running through the splash pad. She is already a fashionista-made evident by her accessory choices of the day. She is a rockstar and already loves her pink guitar. Once that was open she had no desire to look at anything else.

I can't find the cord to my camera that has all the CUTE pictures, so you get to make due with the crappy iPhone photo above and the 'oh-so-adorable-you-have-to-be-pure-evil-to-not-LOVE-her' video of her with  her pink "gi-tar".

Also while I was down there LB2 and Fishin' Sister FINALLY convinced me to take these canaries home-I've wanted them since the Easter trip but I was convinced I would kill them. Well now I have them, along with a promise of a dog when I get my house looong story but good news for me-SQUEE! I love them, but they need names and I need help because we all know how clever I'm not. There's two girls and a boy. So far the suggestions are Pan, Wendy, and Tink; Bart, Maggie, and Lisa; and I came up with Rory, Lorelai, and Luke because they sang the whole way home. I'm kinda leaning to the latter, but I wanna see what y'all can come up with.

my boys

I don't talk much about my family on here, but I should. My family is flawed, of course, but it is also pretty damn rad.
So rad in fact that I am getting a little choked up as I type this.

In honor of Father's Day on the 19th and LB2's birthday on the 20th I thought I would share a little bit about 'my boys' and why I'm so blessed to have them.

My Papa.

What can I say about my dad that every other girl doesn't already say about theirs? He has the BEST laugh. (Those who've heard it know what I'm talking about.) He taught me how to ride my bike, barbecue, and fish. He taught me how to make manicotti. I am his favorite oldest daughter. :) We share a love of The Muppets-Animal is our favorite, roller coasters-the higher and faster the better, and muscle cars. I went on the White Roller coaster for the first time with my dad. All I can remember is him saying "whooooaahhh whoooaaaaahhhh!" the whole time and laughing his head off. He loved it and because of him I love it too. He is the reason I was a tomboy until I was 10. He taught me that "roughing it" does not include a camper and running water. It's air mattresses and tents. He taught me to love, appreciate, and respect nature. He loves animals. Growing up he would always complain about how we had too many dogs-but he was the saddest of any of us when they would pass away. He has the greenest thumb of anyone I have ever known-he can make almost anything grow out of almost any soil. He builds the most beautiful ponds and has a knack for raising koi and frogs. Inside his rough and gruff exterior is the softest, most tender heart. He is fiercely loyal (gee, I wonder where I got it?), and always fights for the under dog. He loves John Wayne movies, but Legally Blonde is one of his all time favorites. I remember when I was about 20 I had rented 'Chocolat' and was watching it in the family room. When he came home he started to gripe about how he "didn't want to watch that chick flick crap". Yet by the time it was over he had joined me on the couch and looked at me and said, "well that wasn't half bad." He will come up to Salt Lake to watch me perform-although he HATES the city almost as much as he hates the theatre. My daddy is just too awesome for words.

Little Brother #1 (LB1). According to my mom LB1 and I were best friends when we were little. We did EVERYTHING together-including a game where I would get a spray bottle of water and say "open up Jonsie" and spray water into his mouth. My mom didn't understand why, but he loved that game. I am the only person alive who is allowed to call him "Jonsie" (the other is my Grammy V who passed away in 2002). I don't know why, but I love that it's something only I'm allowed to do. LB1 is smart-sometimes too smart for his own good. And he has the BEST comedic timing. He has always been able to make us all laugh so hard it hurts. He loves to fish and snowboard. Growing up he was a whiz at Mario Brothers and would make up songs and sing along to the music as he played. He would build blanket forts in the living room and call them his "inventions". Legos were his thing. He was always playing with them and coming up with things WAY cooler than my lame houses. He LOVED giving people bunny ears in photos-he was a ninja about it, too. He was a year behind me in school, but I was the one who always got "you're Jon Fox's sister?" He was the boy who had girls calling our house at 13, and I'm pretty sure it didn't end until he met My sister in law. He has such a knack for keeping a positive attitude, even when he's knee-deep in turd. In the last few years he's surprised me and shown me what a big softie he is. He married one of the sweetest, kindest, most lovely ladies around and is now an adorable daddy to two of the most adorable girls. He surprised us all in what an amazing father he is. He's the most adorable, loving, doting daddy around-although he was convinced he would rule his house with an iron fist. Those three girls definitely have him wrapped around their fingers! LB1 and I butted heads the most growing up, but as we get older I have come to love and appreciate him more than I could have ever imagined possible.

Little Brother #2. What can I say about My LB2? He loves to point out how much taller he is than me-earning me the nickname "little big sis". He tries so hard to be rough and tough but like all the other men in our family he's a big softie. He is the one who's most like my dad-right down to their identical feet. He's not a dad yet, but he is so good with kids, and they just LOVE him-maybe it's because he is a big kid too. He is a hard worker and so good with his hands. He can build almost anything. He LOVES animals and has his own menagerie complete with chickens! Growing up LB2 was the one who would bring home random animals like pigeons and crickets and snakes and lizards and crawfish and catfish and BEG my mom to let him keep them as pets. LB2 LOVED Kraft mac and cheese growing up. LOVED IT. So much that we would tease him about making his birthday cake out of it instead of letting him have it for his birthday dinner. LB2 wasn't quite the ladies' man LB1 was, but he did have a pretty good following in High School. (I can't say I blame these girls though. My brothers are cute!) LB2 is so protective of me and my sister-he's made it his responsibility to make sure we're always safe and happy. (Yes he's given Mr. Wonderful "the talk".) LB2 is the scariest good driver I've ever seen. He has the sweetest, kindest wife who is the girl version of him. They are perfect for each other. He is always thinking of me and will drive all the way up to SLC from St George to let me use his truck to move. Like the rest of us Foxes he's a stubborn git, but he can also admit when he's wrong.

There are so many more memories I could share, but they are for another day. Although I don't see them near enough, I love my boys so much, and I am so so lucky to have the best daddy and brothers around.

big blonde and beautiful

I love shows. Watching them, being in them, you name it, I love it. My favorite part is the costumes-especially when I get to wear them. The right costume can really make you feel the part you're playing as well as draw your audience into the world you're trying to create. I know you've all seen stage productions where the costumes didn't jive and you were distracted because of it. With that being said....


I HATE COSTUMES.

I hate even more when I have to find my own--no, I'm not a diva.
I will wear almost anything-as long as it fits into the following criteria:

I have to be able to wear a NORMAL bra. I don't want to go commando with the girls-and I'm pretty sure no one else wants me to, either.
In the event I have to change costumes I have to be able to get in and out of them relatively easy with little to no help.
I have to be able to MOVE the way the director wants me to. Besides wearing an uncomfortable costume is the pits.
I hate looking for them because:

Real women have curves.
Most of the time I love mine-until it's time
to do another show and end up feeling
like a fatty.

Nine times out of ten I'm in a show that isn't set in this century. That makes finding authentic-looking costume pieces rather difficult. Don't suggest thrift stores and DI. I ALWAYS strike out there-except last year. I got almost new tap shoes for $4.00. No joke.

I'm a curvy girl-but my curves aren't ordinary. Not many people have a 16-inch discrepancy between their bust and their waist (true story), so finding costumes that fit without making me look like a box is tough. Which leads me to reason three:

Costumes are EXPENSIVE! I have no problem contributing to my costume pieces because then I know it will actually fit-and I get to keep them after-but hot damn! I'm either paying through the nose purchasing "specialty" items or paying for it in my limited free time between rehearsals to make something.

For my latest show I need 50's era attire. Here's the catch-think Rizzo and Marty Maraschino-I am THE stereotypical bad girl-all my clothes have to look like I was poured into them-director's words-not mine.

Any comments on where to go to find possible costume ideas let me know. I've got a little less than a month so time is of the essence.

excited and scared

Last year I moved into my first place. About six months into my lease the honeymoon wore off and it has been an...um...interesting experience since. If it's not completely useless management who can't answer simple maintenance requests or noise complaints or it's my downstairs neighbor smoking in his bathroom with the vent on making HIS second hand smoke vent into MY bathroom and adjoining bedroom and getting mad at ME when I politely ask him not to anymore it's the super young twenty somethings that took over chain smoker's apartment four months ago. They think that apartment shaking bass and drunken parties complete with barf all over the sidewalk every weekend are super fun. Ironically enough they are considerate enough to adhere to the "quiet time" hours; it's just the rest of the time they are a thorn in my side. Needless to say I am not the least. bit. happy.

Couple that with my well-meaning mother and sister telling me I need to buy a house and what do you get? Someone who is willing to consider something she hadn't even fathomed, that's what.

In other words....

I'm looking to buy a house. A HOUSE. Like a free-standing building. That I will live in. And OWN.

This weekend I called the "awesome" realtor who helped Superman Lover find and buy his first place. Well not really. I mentioned what I was considering and that I needed help. He came to my rescue and volunteered to send said realtor an email. Said Realtor called and left me a message this morning I have yet to return--no I'm not procrastinating...ok, maybe I am. A little.

I have been in a constant state of panic/shock/excitement/worry/stress/anxiety/disbelief/surrealism since the decision was made. I am still convinced I am not grown-up OR rich enough to be making such a huge decision--I mean come on. The biggest thing I've bought to date is a car and that's nothing compared to a HOUSE. I didn't want to be a single homeowner, but I'm tired of waiting for other people (read=stupid yet completely loveable men who are/have dragging (ed) their feet in popping the question), so I'm gonna see if I can do it on my own now.

I'm not holding any high hopes for anything because I'm still in my lease for another seven months, I hadn't planned on looking until after I was married so I have ZERO money saved for anything home related, and I'm fairly sure I won't be able to get a mortgage for close to what I'm paying in rent now. My mother DID make the comment "what's the harm in looking? If you find something, great, if not it's just experience for when you DO buy a house." And although I don't typically like to waste people's time I have to think she's right--again.

In other words I'm' hoping for the best, planning for the worst, and keeping my expectations low. I'll let you know how it goes.