Don’t Judge Me…..

I have a friend, Ashley, who is getting married in a couple of weeks. I am one of her bridesmaids, and one of the responsibilities I have as a part of this role is to attend all wedding-related activities. Including the Bachelorette Party.

Now, as a Momo, this is not an activity that I usually have the opportunity to partake of.....Momos being pretty conservative and all. And to tell you the truth, I never really cared. It always seemed to me that bachelorette parties were all about strippers and drinking and clubbing; and that kind of stuff doesn't really appeal to me. Plus, I have attended enough cheesy bridal showers over the years to satisfy any need I might have for nuptual-related activities.

Anyway, Ashley decided that she wanted to have a bachelorette weekend in Vegas. Great. Debauchery central.

Admittedly, I went into this weekend with a pretty cynical attitude. Especially when I found out that the group was planning on going to the show "The Thunder from Down Under" on Saturday night. Great. Half-naked men. Like I don't get enough of that at work.

But, I love Ashley. And she was the bride. And it was what she wanted to do. Soooooo, I went to the show.

Okay, so here's the part where you don't judge me.....

I had an absolute blast at "The Thunder from Down Under." No, really. I had such a good time! And, NO, it was not because I was looking at more six packs than you would see at a Super Bowl party. No. It was because the show is actually pretty hilarious, and not at all raunchy like I thought it was going to be. There was comedy, music, dancing, audience participation. And yes, the fact that the men were unbelievably gorgeous didn't hurt either (at one point, one of the guys ripped off his shirt to reveal what I can only describe as, well, a ten-pack, and I believe that the words "Hot. Damn." may have actually escaped my lips).

I guess I should have known better – I mean, these boys are from my Motherland.

I had a great time. And I would totally do it again. Call me a tart if you want to. You're probably right.

Sweet Child O’ Mine

A few weeks ago, I got a frantic phone call from Blythe. She was all worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "You'll never guess what?!" I didn't know whether I should be worried or excited. She continued, "Slash is performing a last-minute concert at The Roxy THIS weekend!! We HAVE to go!!!"

Okayeeeee. This was apparently a good frantic.

Now, Blythe is quite the music connoisseur. But her favorite genre would have to be rock – you know, Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, Chris Cornell, etc. And Slash – well, he has to be one of the most talented people ever to pick up a guitar.

And while I am nowhere near as into him as my beloved sister, I was a child of the 80s, and I do love Guns N' Roses. So, we bought tickets to the show (which were only 30 bucks, by the way).

Flash-forward to Saturday night, the night of the concert. My roommate, Rachel, as well as our friends, Todd and Danielle, had also bought tickets to see Slash. It was a midnight concert (eek), so we decided to get to the The Roxy around 11. Aaaand about 75 other people decided to get there before us.

Sheesh! For a last-minute show, there sure were a lot of people who were in the know. That's okay, though, because there were still PLENTY of people that showed up after us. And, there were a ton of people who were walking up and down the line looking for tickets to buy. Apparently, this concert sold out rather quickly – like, as in they never went on sale to the general public. Only people (like Blythe) who were notified of the pre-sale were able to buy tickets. This girl who was standing in line next to us said that tickets to the show had been selling for $150 on Craigslist that morning. Crazy!

Here we are, standing around like a bunch of Sunset Boulevard street-walkers, waiting to get in…..

Anyway, they FINALLY let us in around 11:50. Since The Roxy is an extremely small venue (it probably only holds about 200 people – standing room only), we actually ended up in a pretty decent location - center stage, about 4 rows of people back. We were, however, crammed into that theater like literal sardines; personal space was not an option. It's a good thing I remembered to put on deodorant that night.....

Finally, at around 12:45 (those rock stars always have to be fashionably late), the concert started.

One word. A-MAZ-ING!!

I tell you true, I have never seen anybody move their fingers the way Slash did that night. They moved so quickly that I could barely keep up with them. Such talent.

Plus, I absolutely love that feeling when you are so close to the stage that you can literally feel the base thumping in your chest.

All in all, it was a crazy, fun night. Though we didn't get home until 3:45 in the morning, and I'm pretty sure that I breathed in enough second-hand marijuana smoke to be considered intoxicated, it was a truly unforgettable experience.

Taste the Rainbow

A few weeks ago, Blythe, Sara and I ventured up to the Wasatch front (also known as Utah) for some crazy and interesting fun. Crazy and interesting? In Utah? Not possible, you may say.

And ordinarily I would agree with you.

However, on this occasion there was much fun to be had. Because.......we were in Utah to attend the Festival of Colors!

For those of you who have never heard of this event before, the Festival of Colors is a celebratory festival held each spring at Hare Krishna temples around the world. Surprisingly enough, one of the largest Hare Krishna temples is in Spanish Fork, Utah (go figure).

Now, I'm sure that there is some deeper meaning behind this celebration, especially for those who are actually members of that faith. However, 99.9% of the people who show up to this festival show up for one reason: to throw brightly-colored cornstarch at one another with reckless abandon. Yup. That's it. We Mormons really should get out more.....

However, childish as it may seem – it was an absolute blast!

When we first showed up, we started heading towards the temple lawn (where the actual festival takes place). No sooner had we even set foot on the temple grounds when I was pelted with a fistful of orange powder.

What was this? Nobody had blown the start whistle!! I did not give my permission to be suchly violated!! I almost used my pepper spray on the deviant, as I felt that this attack had been both brazen and aggressive.

And then Blythe reminded me that, well, that was kind of the whole idea behind the festival. Oh yeah.

And it just got worse from there on out. Picture a mud fight, except more colorful. And corn-starchy.

By the end of the day, every square inch of my body was rainbow-colored (no really, I was finding powder in crevices for days). My brand new WHITE bra was permanently stained lavender. And my hair-dresser asked me at my appointment two weeks later if I had been spending a lot of time in the swimming pool, because my hair had a "green tinge" to it. Great.

But I had an awesome time, and would totally do it again.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the day:

 

Before the mayhem…..

And so it began….

This next one has to be one of my favorite pictures EVER. I can’t not laugh at it!! Apparently, Blythe reeeeaaaallly wanted to be in the picture. Love that girl. :o)

Like I said, cornstarch EVERYWHERE!

Look how white our teeth look!

After the festival, we went out to dinner at this little Italian restaurant in Provo – without showering first. What can I say, we were starving! We got many-a-look, let me tell you. They ranged from smirks of amusement to glares from people who probably thought that we had all just escaped the loony bin.

Whatever. They were all just jealous of our fashion sense.

Ummmmmm…….

Okay peeps, I am a total slacker....at least of the blog kind. It seems that my life for the past few months has been kind of hectic, and as a result, I have been letting my blogging fall by the wayside. And, not only have I not been derelict in my blog writing, but in my blog reading as well. So, chances are - if anything happened in your life after Christmas-time, I probably don't know about it.

However, I am going to try and repent of my evil ways. I can't promise that there will be many updates covering the last few months. However, I will try to be better at posting from here on out!

Deal?

(See new post below)

A Truly Religious Experience

Okay, so you remember that movie "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants," where four best friends of varying shapes and sizes somehow miraculously fit into the same pair of jeans? Well, I recently had somewhat of a similar experience to this in my own life......

A few months ago, Blythe, my friend Sara, and I decided to go shopping at the Camarillo Outlet Mall. Which, by the way, if you have never been to before, I highly recommend. It is freaking HUGE!! I mean, MASSIVE. We shopped for nearly 5 hours, and only covered a third of the shops! Sigh......... So many stores, so little time. :o)

But back to the point of my story. We happened upon the Off 5th store, which is the outlet center for Saks 5th Avenue. Ordinarily I would consider a store like this to be a little too "shi shi foo foo" for my taste. But I was in desperate need of new jeans, and well, they had quite a selection. On SALE.

We each grabbed about 20 pairs of different brands and styles of jeans and headed to the dressing room. And, in typical girlie fashion, proceeded to model each and every thing we tried on for each other. As we surveyed the tornado of clothes strewn about the dressing room floor, and sorted through the few items that we actually liked, we noticed something. In each of our "buy" piles, we had somehow all managed to choose the same pair of True Religion jeans. While this might not seem like an event of any consequence, let me assure you that it is. And I'll tell you why.

The three of us have completely different body types. I am tall and hippy. Blythe is medium-height and straight-bodied. And Sara is a shorty with curves. Logically speaking, there is no WAY that one single style of jeans should look good on all three of us. And yet......we all looked spectacular in these jeans.

Magical? I think so!!

And, not only are they totally adorable, but they are probably the most comfortable pair of jeans that I've ever owned – which is odd for designer clothing. Plus, they make one's booty look absolutely fabulous!

Exhibit A:

I am officially in love.

Now the only question is whether or not I should go buy another pair just so I have a spare. Hmmmmm…..that might be a bit extreme. Hmmmmmmmm…….. Or is it?

Costa Rica – Day 4 – Cry Me A River

(Disclaimer: I am quite aware that it has been FOUR months since my Costa Rica trip. And yet, here I am, barely managing to post on the fourth DAY. What can I say? I’m a blog slacker as of late. However, I am determined to catalog this trip. At this point, though, these CR posts are really just for my journaling benefit. I really don’t expect any of you to actually read them. Just so ya know.)

So, Day 4 started off pretty nice and relaxing. I woke up (when I wanted to), moseyed on downstairs, and enjoyed a nice breakfast of cheese omelet and mango juice. Odd combo, I know, but it tasted great.

Most of the members of my group decided that they wanted to go riding on ATVs this day, but a few of us, including myself, decided to go white water rafting. This is something that I have always wanted to do. Well, at least for the past 5 years or so I have wanted to. There just isn't any white water rafting location really close to LA, and none of my friends ever seemed to have any interest in it. So I kinda forgot about it.

Until Costa Rica, that is......

And what better place to go water rafting! I mean, most of the country is covered in lush, green rainforests, with all sorts of crazy wildlife - which would make for quite the picturesque view!

All together, there were five of us who wanted to go rafting.

Again, the tourist van picked us up. But instead of heading straight to the rafting location, we were first brought to the rafting company's office.

Our rafting experience included a meal – which I had assumed would be picnic style once we got up to the rafting location. After all, the trip was supposed to be 4-5 hours long, and we were bound to get hungry at some point during all that. I was wrong, though, and they fed us our meal of chicken and rice at the office. Oooookay. I was already full of omelet and mango juice, but whatever.

After eating, we loaded up our rafts and hit the road. Once driving, our river guides informed us that it would take an hour and a half to reach our destination.

Excuse me?

I'm sorry, but did I get magically transported back to LA in my sleep or something? An hour and a half? The rafting locale was supposed to be in Manuel Antonio. We were currently in Manuel Antonio. How could it possibly take us that long to get anywhere in the city, especially since rush hour traffic was definitely not a factor here.

To make things even worse, the roads to the water rafting location were completely unpaved – and extremely bumpy. Plus, it was like 90 degrees outside, and the van had no air conditioning.

Full stomach, bumpy roads that were jostling said full stomach, intense nausea from said bumpy roads, blazing heat and no A/C. I was sooooo not the happy camper. And I was beginning to question my decision to do this. Like, a lot.

After about 45 minutes (of hell), we arrived at the bottom of a mountain. Were we there? Could the torture finally be over? Alas, we were still only halfway to our destination. At this point, our guides told us to take a bathroom break, as this would be the last time we would see an actual restroom for the remainder of the day (unless you count the river as a restroom......not that I would ever do that). They then loaded us into different vehicles, which I can only describe as Hummer-like. And we started driving. Again. However, this leg of the trip was actually kinda fun. We had to get to the top of this this huge mountain (where we would start our downhill river journey), and it was like we were off-roading the whole way up. Plus, the view at this point was spectacularly beautiful.

We got to the top, and had a short instructional lesson with our hilarious guides.

Here we all are at the beginning (as evidenced by our dry clothes).

And then, SPLASH! We were off!!

And it was everything I had ever imagined.

The water was not too crazy, not too tame, and was sooooooo much fun! Though I am sure that it didn't take my boatmates very long to tire of the screams and yelps that would emit from my mouth each time a huge wave would crash into (and over the side of) our raft.

Here are some of the crazy pictures from the day. So funny.

 

Melissa’s face in this next picture absolutely kills me. Poor thing.

About halfway through the journey, our guides had us pull our rafts over to the side of the river, and we took a short little nature hike to this gorgeous waterfall just off the beaten path. Since we were already drenched, our guides had us wade into the shallow stream, and then encouraged us to play under and in the waterfall. Though, at times, we were practically being beaten to death by the onslaught of water droplets, I would have to say that this was probably one of my coolest, and most favorite moments during my time in Costa Rica.

I am so not a nature girl. Ask anyone. I would rather clean my toilet than do something like camping. And I think that people who call hiking fun or leisurely are one peach short of a fruit basket. But even I couldn't help but be absolutely mesmerized this day as I took in all of my glorious, breathtaking surroundings. Nature was definitely my friend.

This is one experience I will truly never forget. I am so glad I had the opportunity to do it, and I hope to experience it again someday.

Pity Party

Last weekend, I went on a little out-of-town jaunt to San Francisco (details of this trip will be given in another post). During the two days I was gone, I had no internet service. While I found this factor to be somewhat annoying (I am a total internet junkie), I really had no choice in the matter. So there you go.

Upon my arrival back into town, I received a voice mail message from my old roommate, Jamie. It went something like this:

“Courtney. I just saw your facebook status update. Call me! We need to talk.”

Eh?

My status update? As far as I could remember, my last facebook update involved my disgruntled emotions about being viciously attacked by my flat iron. Stimulating stuff, I know……but certainly not something that warranted an over-the-phone conversation.

I was a little worried now.

I ran downstairs and hopped online. I had 22 facebook notifications – all of which were comments on my “relationship status.”

Oh, no. This could not be good.

I clicked on my profile. Apparently, in the two short days I had been gone, I had gotten ENGAGED.

What the......WHAT?

Underneath the new status, I had comments from friends, relatives, and co-workers – either sending me congratulations, or accusing me of keeping my "engagement" a secret from them. Co-workers….oh, no. Some of my co-workers knew. Great. That meant come Monday, all of my co-workers would know, and I was going to have a lot of 'splaining to do.

How in world did this happen?

Well, as far as I can figure, in my haste to get out of work for my flight last week, I must not have logged off of my facebook account completely, and one of my cheeky co-workers must have taken it upon themselves to marry me off. I have yet to figure out who the culprit is, but trust me - I will!! In retrospect, I guess they could have done a lot worse things to my profile than changing my relationship status....but still!! That'll teach me to play on the internet when I'm supposed to be working.

Anyway, I quickly changed my relationship status, and posted an announcement that I was, in fact, NOT engaged. My profile now read "Courtney is no longer listed as engaged."

Okay, so some of you are going to think that I am pretty pathetic for what I am about to say. But, as I stared at the whole "Courtney is no longer listed as engaged" status on my page, and then as I had to repeatedly explain to co-worker after co-worker that I am, in fact, not betrothed, I started to get kinda sad.

I mean, I am happy with my life, and am totally content with my single-hood. But getting supposedly "engaged," and then subsequently "un-engaged," reminded me of just how single I am. Of how far away I am from actually uttering the words “I’m engaged” in real life (or on facebook, for that matter). And I felt a little downtrodden.

See, I told you. Pathetic, party of one!

Anyway, I’m okay now (no thanks to stupid facebook). And I’d like to share a little clip from my new favorite TV show, “Glee.”

Not only does this clip cheer me up and have me rolling with laughter each time I watch it, but the song has become my new mantra.

 

Don’t stop believin’, folks.