There is Hope

Does love really hurt?

No.

The lack of love does.

Love is the best feeling that exists.

It's more than a feeling.

It's a state of mind.

And nothing is better than love.

Nothing.

I love someone very much.

That person keeps hurting me.

Repeatedly.

I go to God in prayer

and ask Him to release me

from the hurt.

Release me from the pain.

"Please," I beg.

I don't want to hurt anymore.

I don't want to let myself not be loved.
I want out of it.
Let me out.

This morning I got the same answer

I keep getting.
I've been getting it for years.

Hang on. Hold on thy way.

Keep on keeping on.

Be patient.

Stand by.

Be loyal.

Love.

Even if it hurts.

Do as I do.

Be strong.

Oh, and by the way Alice,

you aren't the best at

loving either.

So maybe you can

change too

while I give the other person

the same answer in your behalf.

That's how God loves.

I wish I was more like Him.
I hope I can be.

You know who you are.
This song is for you.
I'm sorry.
I will try to love better.

When I get done praying
and pouring my heart out.
God doesn't shame me.
He tells me there is always hope.
For all of us.

Halloween by NutMom

November 1st has quickly become 

one of my favorite days of the year.

It used to be the 2nd of November 

as that's my birthday,

but now it's the first.

For sure.

No contest.

Why?

It's the day after Fall Madness.

That's the only reason.

I hate the pressure

of Halloween.

Detest.

The pressure.

Even without comparing

it's horrendous

to be a mom

at Halloween.

Here's a poem

to explain.

The teenager hollered

starting three weeks ago.

"Mom, I need black tulle.

I also need black tights.

Don't forget the spray paint

Oh, and I need that special make-up,

don't worry

I'll make sure it is just right.

Why don't you dress up mom?

Why don't you?

You're no fun."

The two girls in the middle

say

"Mom, I don't want something out of the box,

I want something new.

I don't know if I like

that 70% off costume."

Chili cook-off dinner,

make sure you do the award winner.

Do you have some table centerpieces

to bring?

Why of course.

I just have to go and find them

in the garage,

buried under all my

back to school bins.

Not really.

Make all the calls for school parties,

try to get it done before dinner.

Take three days

to go to the school

and paint pumpkins

with the kids

because the PTA

thought it would be a great

idea to have a huge

Pumpkin Walk

just weeks following the carnival.

Oh, and don't forget all the stuff

you had to purchase to put

in the gift baskets.

"Oh, you don't want to do the craft.

You don't want to do the game.

You just want to come to the class party and enjoy.

No worries.

I'll take care of it all."

Google and pinterest

are my best friends.

Too bad they can't come

over and party tend

for me

so I can have a nap.

Off to the dollar store.

They don't have orange balloons.

Neither does Wal-Mart.

Ah- ha I got the last bag

at the specialty party store.

I don't need 100,

only 32,

I convince the clerk

to open the bag,

and sell them individually

for a quarter a pop.

Yes, you, even more procrastinating mom,

you are very welcome

at 10 am tomorrow.

"Caroline,

do you like this one?"

No mom it's scary.

I don't want to dress up.

I want to be a butterfly.

No, I don't want to be a butterfly.

I want the cheap plastic wand.

But, what will you be with that?

That wand will be broken before

tomorrow night.

I've been there, done that.

At least 50 times.

Oh, look Caroline,

look at this cute

cowgirl hat.

It will go perfect with your

boots.

Oh, yes mom.

I love it.

It's pink.

Do you want to wear it

trick or treating?

No I want to stay home with dad.

Dad wrote off Halloween

years ago.

He hates trick-or-treating.

Can't we all just stay home?

We try to bribe the kids every year,

so far only the three-year old

thinks it's a good idea to stay home.

Maybe we are moving in the right direction?

Let's not even get into 

pumpkin carving.

That's a whole other poem,

with the guts,

and the seeds,

that have to be roasted,

and the candles that have to be

found.

tonight.

And the specialty tools

that all break before the night is over.

And then I sit down for two seconds

before I have to run to the school.

And I look at the blogs.

And her family is all themed.

And her costumes are all homemade.

In fact,

I saw them

all over Pinterest

just yesterday.

And

this lady had a party

with handmade masks.

Oh, and this friend

has an annual

Halloween dinner

with spooky food.

Check out the jello worms.

I asked her if my kids

could come next year.

Because I am too tired.

And I just have to wonder?

Are these all the moms

that didn't want to do the craft

or the game

for the school party?

Did they say no?

Or are they all as crazy as me?

Did they take them self to the picture show

last night too?

Because they just had to get away

after accomplishing

500 things yesterday

and then working their 4 hour shift

at their part time job

so they can afford

the game, craft, treat,

costume, pumpkin,

and the regular groceries.

Did they go to the movie

to avoid putting the kids to bed

because one more mom moment

would set them over the edge?

On the way home did

they sing to themselves

"took myself to the picture show

sat myself in the very last row

(da da  da da da da da

da da da da da da da -

because I couldn't remember how

it really goes)

I'm a nut.

I'm a nut.

I'm a nut.

I'm a nut.

I'm a nut."

Somehow I'm doing something wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Every year.

And maybe

next year

I'll get it right.

Or maybe I will just

keep holding my breathe

and try not to flip out

for the next 20 years,

and then I can be the grandma

like her

who takes the grandkids

for their photoshoot

every year on Halloween.

Maybe at that point,

my new 

favorite day of the year

will be Oct 1st

instead of Nov 1st.

Because I

won't have to

worry about my sanity.

I don't think it's

a coincidence

that this song was written

about an acorn on the ground.

Probably in the Fall.

Like late October.

I'm a an acorn on the ground, 

Sitting under this here tree.

Everybody steps on me, 

That is why I'm cracked you see.

Chorus:

I'm a nut,

I'm a nut, 

I'm a nut, nut, nut-nut-nut.

Called myself on the telephone 

Just to see if I was home. 

Made a date for half past eight, 

Better hurry or I'll be late! 

- Chorus 

Took myself to the picture show 

Sat myself in the very last row 

Wrapped my arms around my waist 

Got so fresh I slapped my face! 

- Chorus 

Bought some roses at the store.

Told myself I wanted more.

That's why I broke up with me.

Now I am a nut that's free!

- Chorus 

Gee, I miss me all the time.

Wonder if I'm doing fine.

Maybe I'll stop by to see

If I have a chance with me.

- Chorus

Coca-Cola went to town, 

Pepsi-Cola shot him down.

Dr. Pepper fixed him up, 

Now we all drink 7-Up.

- Chorus

For those of you that don't know the song.

 

 Oh and here's another fun find.

You're Beautiful

I've been struggling for months.
I couldn't pin-point what was going on.
I thought it was just part of the grief of losing my nephew,
and it partially was, but it started before we lost Braxton.
I was angry.
I just got angrier.
For months I didn't want to pray.
I didn't want to go to church.
I didn't want to read the scriptures.
I just wanted to stew,
and get angrier about all the unfairness of life.

I spent a night at the cabin with a few friends last week,
and we took the time to have a honest share with one another.
I was floored by the experience.
Just a few moments of humble and honest self-reflection
completely turned me around.

I was able to see a part of me that I already identified long ago.
I was able to see the part of me that went straight
to pride and anger
as to protect myself from the hurt or disappointment.

I was angry because I felt like I could never measure up.
I was angry that people around me didn't appreciate me.
I was angry because I didn't want to need God.
I was angry because I was hurt.
I was sad, so I was angry.
My subconscious thinks it's easier to be angry.
But it's not.
Pride is destructive.
Anger is a form of pride.

After two seconds of honest reflection,
I immediately felt God telling me it's o.k.
I am just human doing the best I can.
He wasn't mad at me.
He was glad that I finally figured it out.
I don't need to be angry.
I need to be vulnerable
and let God heal.

I most of all needed to re-understand that
I am not alone.
We all need God.
We all need to be told that we are beautiful.

 

I look to you

I love this song. It's an old Whitney Houston number
and was recently redone on Glee.
After hearing it on my i-pod yesterday,
I've been searching it out on youtube.
I want to send it to my brother
who recently lost his son Braxton.
(I can't type that last sentence
without my eyes welling up in tears)

I've been through some hard things in my life.
I've been diagnosed with a mental illness,
I've lived through serious poverty,
I've come within a hair from losing my marriage,
I've experienced cruel prejudices,
I've struggled with my weight,
and I've lost people I've loved.

But right now nothing hurts more than Braxton.
Even though I didn't spend as much time
with him as I would have preferred
(due to living in poverty half a world away
in Tennessee for a decade)
I loved that kid.
He was a complex mixture of the best of his mom and dad.
He was so compassionate (mom) and determined (dad).
He was so funny (dad) yet smart (mom).
Ha ha. O.k. he could have gotten both of those from both of his parents.
He had an infectious smile (mom and dad).
He was the life of the party (his aunt ali) :)
He was and is such a good kid.
The kind of kid that anyone would be proud to call their own.

We all love and miss him so,
and are left with such a huge hole in our hearts,
as we try to make sense of his passing.

I worry for my brother and his family every day,
and I simultaneously try to soothe my own pain.
Every day I send my brother a little message on facebook
to uplift, inspire, strengthen, and happy-make.
It's been amazing to me how much that little act has been the best balm for me.
Sometimes I end up searching online for hours for just the right thing,
but for those hours I am finding little gems to my own soul.

Like this song.
Wow.
What a great reminder to where we need to look.
In all our troubles.
I can honestly say that God is the only way I've survived.
And I proudly say that I have done more than survive.
I have flourished under his tutelage.

I love this singer's journey to her own health.
It really does boil down to the fact
"I can do all things through God whom strengtheneth me."
I know that if my brother and his family know anything,
it is to look to God for their strength.
They do such an amazing job at it.
I'm so grateful they have their God.
And I am so grateful that they are my constant reminder
to look to Him too.

Jesus Said Love Everyone

The other day at work one of the students asked me 

how I was always in such a good mood.

Why not?

I have so much to be happy about.

Like this for example.

Last week, as I was reading,

I heard Caroline break out into a song.

It was a song I had not taught her.

She must have learned at church it in nursery.

And she sang every single word

out of the blue

while playing with her puzzles.

See.

So much to be happy about.

Toddler Translation:

Jesus said love everyone.

Treat them kindly too.

When your heart is filled with love,

others will love you.

Caroline just reminded me:

Look mom, that's me.

I'm naked.

{smiles}

Yes it was during bathtime

that I remembered to pull out the camera.

Little Orphan Annie

While I was growing up,

my sisters and I loved Little Orphan Annie.

We didn't just like it, we were obsessed with it.

I guess we kind of wished we had a Daddy Warbucks too.

Even though we had great parents,

we wanted Daddy Warbucks' house.

And Pun-jab.

We also wanted to dance like that

and sing like that.

One thing bothered me about the movie though.

I know, I can only think of one thing. Weird.

Little Orphan Annie's rat tail.

Imagine my surprise when Caroline was sportin' the same "do" last night.

I cringed all up inside.

My little girl Alice wanted to brush it and make it right.

Yeah, I am weird.

And a little obsessive.

Even orphans deserve good hair.

Especially if they are on TV.

This video is for my little sister Renee.

I want her to know that I finally forgive her

for placing the VHS Annie in the VCR

with peanut butter all over her hands.

And like Annie taught,

there is always tomorrow.

And this tomorrow we will be watching Annie on DVD.

And the next tomorrow we may even have Blu-Ray.

Did I tell you my new secret obsession?
I want to make Caroline famous.
She deserves to be the modern day Shirley Temple.
She is sooo dang cute.

If we dyed her hair red she could play Rosie.
And if LG lost 80 pounds and grew his hair out he could sooo be Matt Damon.
I guess Abigail will have to play Scarlett Johansen
since I am nowhere near close.
Man, all we need is a zoo.
See it always goes back to Daddy Warbucks.


(We loved the movie by the way,
but beware there is a lot of language)

Only Have One

I'm a codependent.
A full-fledge flaming codependent.
What does that mean?
It means that I am addicted to others at an unhealthy level.
It means that my core issue is
needing other people to fill my love tank.
It means that I unconsciously do things
(all the time) to feed my addiction.
Things like making too many comments in Sunday School.
Or blogging for attention.
I often cry myself to sleep at night because nobody cares.

And then there are the times (too many times)
that I try to require things of my husband,
things that I need to let go.
I don't do it to be wrong,
I just want to be loved
and I just want to love others
and so I hold on to that thing
far too long.

It's part of my addiction.
I try to control other people.
Unconsciously.
To gain importance.
To get love.
I can't have enough of love and importance.

Just saying it is part of the addiction
doesn't excuse it
because it is still very much my life
and I have to own it and change it
and sculpt me into what I want me to be.
It does give understanding
and the first step to fixing is admitting.

So, this post is my way of letting something go.
Something hard.
Even though I have every right to care about it.
and I am completely justified in my desires
because they are pure.
Yet, they are my desires for him,
and not his desires for him,
so I have to let it go.
Even if he is wrong
and doesn't see it.
Because I can't live his life.
I can only live my life.

Apparently JJ Heller understands
why I cried myself to sleep last night.
Next time I am going to sing this little song
instead of getting all frustrated with myself.
Because let's face it,
nobody gets it right every time.
Everyone needs room to screw up.

And I have decided that true love is
really only one thing.
Loving each other through your screw ups.
And boy do I love that man.
I'm the luckiest girl that he loves me back
even when I try to control him.

Family Dance Night

Do you remember this ancient post about the family staying up all night to dance.
We couldn't afford to go to Chuck E Cheese and so we pulled out the old records.

Well now we can afford to go to Chuck E. Cheese but I believe I would rather
travel back in time and do this all over again.
I finally figured out how to post the video and these are so cute.
The girls have grown so fast but I am pleased to report that they still giggle just the same.
And they still think they can dance.

It started out slow. Very Lawrence Welk feeling slow.



Then we moved on to Bob Dylan's song on banjo.
Dad does some tapping and at the end the baby has to join in.


More with dad and baby. Puff the magic dragon.


Then dad goes a little crazy.


A little Beverly Hillbilly's. We were in TN after all.
We have some underwear malfunctioning.
This is when I hope that no sickos have found the blog.
But, if you sickos have found us, make sure you watch this one through
to see the man you will contend with if you come within 50 feet of our daughters.
And then know that I am about 800% more ferocious.


Now dad kindly introduces the two-step to our flapper girls.
Has anybody seen our girls?


And if you've been the loyal watcher,
you will be happy for this finale.
One final laugh for us all.


Good times. Good times.

You Made Me Love You

Tears are sometimes the only appropriate way to communicate what we feel.

Tears for little girls that grow up.
Tears for the privilege of being their mom.
Tears for perfect lyrics.
Tears for the clock that ticks too fast.

The thrill of Halloween

Thank you to Laurel for providing the Thriller photos.
Her daughter Sylvia threw an awesome
zombie party a while back.

We were the lucky neighbors

who opened our door to the zombie apocalypse.

Pretty dang freaky.

It's no wonder somebody called the cops.

The other day, I was driving to the grocery store
with my 8 year old Bella.
Thriller came on the radio.
I turned it up and rocked out.

It was dark outside and we were waiting at the red light. Next to us was a big silver truck. In the passenger seat was a young man between 18 and 20. Driving looked to be his old man. They wore hunting garb. I wouldn't have noticed them at all if it wasn't for a silly exchange. They must have been listening to the same radio station because as I turned my monstrous arms towards my driver's side window in a classic Thriller dance move, the boy stared straight at me and started cracking up. He turned to his old man and said something. The old man veered over and smiled as I sheepishly put my hands back on the wheel.

Bella was instantly mortified. "Man, mom, you even got his dad looking at you!" I laughed and kept enjoying the music, with just a little less subtle dance moves. It was two weeks from Halloween. It was dark outside. The moon was almost full. I had just one of my kids in the car, and Thriller was playing on the radio. What's not to love? I just had to dance. And sing.

As my daughter's face was bright red and I continually fought off her attempts at turning off the radio while simultaneously putting forth my subtle Thriller moves, I thought to myself, "These are the mothering moments that I love the most." The ones that are so easily forgotten unless I write them down.

Yes, it's moments like these that are the thrill of being a mother. The Thriller moments happen so few and far between. The moments when as a mother I know I am just one big grown-up kid and I am cool! All it took was a mortified 8 year old daughter and two grown hunters to seal the deal.

It's just the Thriller.....(c'mon you know you want to sing along)

Happy Halloween y'all.
I hope yours is just as thrilling
as I am sure ours will be.
We started the day
with a before dawn wake up call
for costumes, make-up, hot cocoa, and orange eggs.

Don't forget.

Today is your last day to leave a comment 

for a chance to win my copy of the book

Lunch Wars.

Please eat all your Halloween candy in honor of Amy Kafala.

She will love it.

Mormons and Music

A few weeks ago we attended

Abigail's informal

choir performance.

I was astounded!

For just a few weeks of school,

this 7th grade choir

sounded amazing.

I love how in this song

Abigail misses the first clap.

And seriously,
this middle school has enough talented pianists
to accompany all their choirs.
Astounding.
Check out this accompanist.
She's so young
and
wonderful
and inspiring.
Watching her accompany the choir
made me emotional and proud
and she isn't even my kid.


I am grateful that our girls have the opportunity to go to school in Utah.
The choral music programs here are remarkable.

As evidenced by the recent Mormon ties
in the popular show Sing off.

Everyone knows that there is no better choir
in the world than
The Mo Tab.



What about The Osmonds?



The Jets are my personal favorite Mormon musicians.



I recently read about Brandon Flowers,
also a Mormon musician.



There are so many amazing Mormon musicians that I could do this for months.
I haven't even gotten into Mormon contemporary music.
I recently shared Hilary Weeks and Michael McLean.

The Hinckley brothers are personal friends.



Here is one of my new favorite singles
by a new favorite Mormon musician, Stephanie Mabey.
LG and I had the privilege of seeing her in concert recently.
I really liked this song.
Weird but catchy.
I dare you to watch this
and try not to find yourself singing
along with the lyrics
"If I were a zombie,
I'd never eat your brain."



Do enjoy some less known Mormon music on me.

I have a thing for the smooth harmony
that only Polynesians can produce.
These Polynesians must be Mormon
because they are singing two of our most beloved hymns.


Here are 21,000 Mormons singing together. Powerful stuff.


Last but not least,
some crazy Mormon missionaries.
Their mothers probably died when watching.
It's a miracle that these 19 year old boys don't all kill themselves.


From the uttermost part of the earth have we heard songs, even glory to the righteous.
Isaiah 24:16.

One really has to think for a moment about the possibility of the Mormon church truly being inspired.
How else could it motivate so many to sing such glorious praises?
And we do it so well.
In my humble opinion.

Beautiful Heartbreak

I've experienced heartbreak.
More than one.
I remember vividly a day years ago when my friend Lindsey
walked in my front door
to find me completely debilitated,
inconsolable, defeated, and heartbroken.
I was on my couch crying uncontrollobly
while my three small children
were running around neglected.
When I told Lindsey what was going on
she cried too.

Earlier in the day, I had tried to go to the library
to escape the pain,
my toddler was a monster,
surely responding to her mom's emotional state.
A mean old man confronted me
and told me I was a horrible mother.
Of course, that day I was a horrible mother.
It was all I could do not to shoot myself in the head.

He didn't see all the other days.
The good days.
The days before the crippling pain.
But the other mom did.
She was usually by my side for weekly storytime.
She rushed out to my car and prayed for me
while I bawled some more at the wheel of my car.

You may think I am just some dramafied attention mongrel,
but you will never know.
The heartbreak is one I have shared with very few.
But it was awful. It is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

I have worked for years to overcome that pain.
The only thing that finally gave me solace
was turning it over to the Lord.
Over and over again.
I have become
an expert at handing it over.
So much so
that I have become a new person.
A better person.
A stronger person.
A happier person.
A more peaceful person.
And a person who seeks the Lord.

I have experienced a beautiful heartbreak.
More than one actually.
I have experienced a repeated heartbreak
until I gave it to my Lord
so many times that it
became beautiful.
Just because I shared it.
And He turned it into beauty.

So, I loved this song this morning.
Even if Hilary Weeks
stole it from this life-changing blog post.



I hope we can all be Lindsey's
or praying moms,
but really sometimes we may
be moms who neglect our kids
or ornery old men who are mean and critical.
And hopefully other people will just remember
that we might be at the bottom,
or trying to hike our way out of the
beautiful heartbreak.

But even though I don't have a video made about me
or I am not an inspirational speaker
or a famous blogger,
I can testify
with all the honesty of my heart
that God will bring us through
our worst pain.
He may even take us through it on purpose
so that we can have a new and beautiful vista
when we reach the top
where we have learned to
stay right by His side.

P.S. Help DeAnne not to experience the heartbreak of coming so close to first place as HeroMom of the year and not winning. Please go vote now. If you get someone else to vote, besides you, leave me a message and tell me who you got to vote and I will add you into a real special post coming up very soon.

Lyrics with Lessons

I recently really enjoyed this post by Cameron Smithson. Cameron used a great song to prove his point that if you want to be loved, you need to give love. You can love without being loved, but it sure does work better when it goes both ways.

Your love is better than ice-cream

I am so excited to present my original idea.

It's gonna put me in a higher realm

with my oh so crafty friends.

Trust me when I say you don't want

to miss out on hitting the read more button.

Waiting

I am waiting on a phone call

that will change my life.

I don't know what it will be like to be a working mom

and I am nervous about it,

but I am also assured from mighty prayer

that God is watching over me

and will strengthen me.

I was just thinking about how much I hate waiting.

I've never been too good at waiting.

Give me my future NOW dangit.

Don't make me wait.

Be Still, My Soul

Be Still My Soul is one of my favorite hymns.

Ever since the day I got home from my mission.
I went to the temple because I didn't know
what else to do with myself.
I threw up all over the lawn.
Leaving my missionary service behind,
made me sad, empty, scared, and confused
about my future.
I had given 18 months of my life to the Lord
and I had found myself by losing myself
and I found greater purpose in serving others.
I didn't want to have to live my life for me.

I got inside the temple and sat down in the chapel.
On the organ played
Be Still My Soul.

My man is the master.

Besides his amazing patience with my blogging,
(somebody at his work was privvy to all the boob drama
and said how sorry he was - sorry LG - so sorry)
one thing I love about my husband is his love for music.

Not only can he quote every lyric written by any Beatle,
he can also tell you just about any artist
when asked to Name That Tune.
He's amazing.

He plays the piano.
He plays the saxophone.
And he can play the harmonica.

Compared to this guy, LG doesn't play at all,
but I don't think he has any plans of going to Carnegie.



My hubby also plays a little google.

Check it out.

Harry Potter can dance

I love surnames for boys' names.
I once told my husband, "Awww, wouldn't Potter be such a cute name for a boy?"
"Sure, Alice, if our last name wasn't Gold."

The Abbey Road Show

We had the great privilege of witnessing

the Abbey Road Show

in Provo

last Friday, July 1st.

Local Provo artists

covered the songs from 

The Beatles' 

Abbey Road.

And they were

A-MAZ-ING!!

I think it was on my facebook

on our way home from the concert

that I said that they were better than

the original.

And I meant it.

You know how we are

true Beatles fans

around here.

I would never say that 

The Provosts 

were better than the original

lightly.

Ryan Innes was my favorite.

Go and check him out.

It was the most amazing concert

I've ever attended.

And if the whole concert wasn't good enough,

guess how it ended?

Me snuggled up to LG

watching 3 of our 4 kids

rock out

to our favorite

Hey Jude.

The song was awesome.

And then as if God was

putting his own stamp of approval

on the experience

(as it was an experience,

not just a concert)

fireworks started going off all around us.

I won't lie.

I teared up.

Quite possibly,

this concert made my

life's 

Top 10 

moments.

Seriously.

And guess what?

At the beginning of the concert,

before very many people had arrived.

I walked right past 

that CJane

and I didn't even say Hi.

Because she is too good for me.

And I am not giving her the time of day.

And I didn't want to 

sound desperate like the other girl

who was saying,

"I know you don't know me,

but I have a blog,

and I follow yours religiously."

CJane's response:

"Oh, don't we all know each other?"

Oh really then?

Why don't you return my e-mails,

if you know me?

Huh? Huh?

Not all bloggers are created equal.

And LG says my best revenge

will be to get a greater 

readership.

Which I will do.

And when her 5 minutes of fame are over

and mine are happening,

I will show her how to be nice,

and I will return her e-mail.

Oh yeah,

back to the

most amazing concert.

I will give it to CJane

about her rooftop series.

Best concert of all time.

Really.

Even if I am pretty sure that the

people who set up for the concert,

set up chairs and blankets in

any good viewing spot of the stage

early in the day

I won't hold a grudge.

As we could hear the music, 

and that is all that matters really.

We were maybe number 50-55 to arrive

and there was not a single place to

lay out our blankets  

where we could actually see the stage. 

boo hiss!

But really - 

Mountains.

Rooftop.

Paper lanterns.

The NuSkin towers' reflection

of the mountains.

Hoards of music lovers.

The Beatles.

Amazing musicians.

Perfect weather.

Families

dancing together

and

Fireworks.

What else could a girl

ever ask for?

Not much.

Except a returned e-mail.

Or five?

Enjoy the photos.

And if you have never listened

to Judicial LG's version

of Hey Jude.

You must head over now.

So bad

and hilarious.

(You can forgo CJane's write-up and just go here for the video of the Hey Jude experience)

Artist Cherie Call.

She was 

the opening act.

There she is.
It's the best picture I could get with my little camera.
Like I said,
even though we arrived plenty early,
the only spots left
were in the back.
Waaaaay back.

The kids loved the street vendors.

Caroline wanted a doll really bad.

Caroline can't wait for the music to start.

She's got her dance on.

Oh, and do you remember the people watching we did last time?
And I told you that LG and I have a hard time understanding up to date fashion?
Check out this guy's butt.
I have no idea why he thinks that skinny jeans can be worn like a gangster.
We got shot after shot of his underwear throughout the night.
I wonder if he would even care
if he knew we were checking him out.

Glad we had something to make us laugh
while we were waiting for the music to start.