Monday, June 25, 2012

Beauty marks. Not beautiful.

I don't know many people that have upper lip moles.
But... I know that I have an upper lip mole.

When I was younger I thought that made me pretty cool.

My mom would tell me stories of old fashioned ladies that would draw little "Beauty Marks" on their face because they weren't beautiful enough to ACTUALLY have one like I did.

I knew it. I is. Hot shiz.

Beauty mark. Totally fake. Not hot.














My beauty mark. Marking my beauty.
















Fast forward a few couple of years. 























"Hey Katie. You forgot to pluck your mole hairs."
"Katie's never been kissed. All the guys are afraid of her mole. And the mole whiskers."
"Katie your mole is so big. You can't tell the difference between mole and lip."
"My life sucks. But at least I don't have a mole like Katie's."
"Don't tell a soul. But I tried to kiss Katie last night and the whiskers stabbed my face. Took an hour to stop the bleeding."
"First thing I notice in a girl is her eyes. First thing I notice in Katie is her mole. And actually, that's the only thing I notice about Katie."
"Hey Katie you got some chocolate on your face. Oh. Wait. Nevermind."

So contrary to what my mom led me to believe, beauty marks are just really great to make fun of. And a really great way to lower self esteem.

"Please. With that mole? She was begging for lower self esteem."







Wednesday, June 20, 2012

The day I never met Julie B. Beck.

Neils sweet grandmother passed away last week. It was a sad week for all because Lucille will be missed. She was a wonderful woman.

And by "wonderful woman" I mean "rock star". Because about 3 billion people showed up to her viewing and funeral. One of those people being Julie B. Beck.

"WHO IS JULIE B. BECK?!" you ask.

I'll tell you.

Seriously. Look at her rad hair.














Julie B. Beck is somewhat of a rock star herself. (But she doesn't rock out, it's more all in the hair.) Julie B. Beck is one of those ladies that gives talks during LDS Conference meetings. And it turns out, I can pay attention the entire way through her talks. So. She's pretty good.

While she was going through the viewing line with her little, old mother, I was gearing up to talk to her. Mentally preparing. Planning the introduction in my mind. Daydreaming.

But meet her? I never did. Let's just say some choice individuals (whom I thought loved me) blew my chance by interrupting our ALMOST handshake.

I ALMOST touched Julie B. Beck.

Guess who didn't ALMOST touch Julie B. Beck. *cough*Sarah and Nolan Johnson*cough*. And that's probably because they totally DID touch her.

And as they were all touching her celebrity-ness and chatting with her, I got to talk to Julie B. Beck's little, old mother. Which is fine. Really. It is. I mean, she gave birth to the famous. So I'm ok with that.

Little, old mother asked who I belonged to. And as I answered.......Julie B. Beck turned back to hear me.

"Oh I'm actually Neils husband."


Silence. Neil's panic stricken face.


It turns out... I'm actually not Neil's husband.
I'm his wife.


Julie B. Beck's mothers' response? "Oh. Well. We love you anyway."


Julie B. Beck. And her mother. Think I'm a freak. 


I'm a wife. I'm wife. Happy to be a wife. Always a wife. Not a husband. My bad. I love you Julie B. Beck.











Monday, June 18, 2012

So My Mom is Falling Apart: Part II

My mom had surgery on her knee for something or other. Since her body IS falling apart, it's hard to keep track of what is happening to what part of her body. But I try.


This is the knee. The picture is fuzzy and upside down.
But you get the point.

















Here are my moms crutches. She sent me this picture because
she knows I've ALWAYS wanted crutches.
Just rubbing it in my face a 'lil.


















My mom's going to be sitting around healing up for a few days. And who better to take care of her, pamper her and nurse her back to health, than my dad? Am I right? Am I right??

Mmmmmm............... .   .    .

When my mom made it home today from surgery, my cute little dad quickly began his duties as "Kathy Caretaker". He left for the kitchen to whip up my sweet mother some lunch.

15 minutes later he came back with toast.

Toast.

Toast.

Toast. For lunch.

I'm just gonna throw this out there...   If any of you are in the general Star Valley, WY area...  And happen to have some butter on hand. Or maybe some cinnamon sugar. Jam? Jelly? Heck. She's even been wanting to give Nutella a try. Anything really. Just drop some by. Maybe?

Toast is going to be the main ingredient/dish for the next few days and she could use some help jazzing it up.

Especially since that's all her caretaker really knows how to fix (in 15 minutes).

Kthanxbye.