Thrifting, Genetics and Pinwheels

In true "game of threes" fashion, I am happy to share the story behind this outfit. However, it is safe to say that these 3 randoms are actually very much connected. Read on, my lovelies for an installment of fashion feature a la Monday. 

First and foremost, with the exception of the accessories, this outfit is thrifted from top to bottom. AND it all came from the same Deseret Industries on the SAME day!!! It was a glorious day. On Mother's Day weekend I told myself I would have a completely selfish weekend because I was burnt out and needed some me time. So I had what I deemed a "freedom adventure" weekend. Day 1 was spent thrifting. The MuuMuu turned awesome outfit was from that day too! Like I said it was glorious. One thing that is always completely ridiculous, frustrating and funny at the same time is how genetics get in the way of outfits looking like they're supposed to. You're probably thinking, "duh, nothing EVER looks like it does on the model." My biggest body issue is called long torso. Well long torso, broad shoulders and "ladies" that just make it difficult to find tops that work. And so I usually spend a good portion of my dressing room time rolling my eyes and saying, "oh what a lovely tunic that has a tag that says it's a dress." This outfit was just such an occasion and I had purchased another top in the last couple of weeks that was CLEARLY a dress and on me it's a tunic. Super. How do I make it work? I create a two-piece outfit look. Generally, the best way to make this happen and look good is with a straight skirt on the bottom. And with this outfit I made sure to include a belt so that I accentuated the smallish waist line and drew the eye to the curves and not the imperfections. 

Along with being a completely gorgeous and sunshiney day, today is Memorial Day here in America. Memorial Day is a day for us to remember our loved ones who have passed on as well as the men and women who have fought for the freedoms of America. This spring my mom told me that my great-great grandma, Maud Ellen, was buried in the Ogden Cemetary. This is a significant bit of information because this woman is my hair sake. I am the ONLY one on both sides of my immediate family who has the exact color of my hair. As a child it bugged me when people asked me where it came from or the side of the family. Then one day my great-grandma said to me, "your hair reminds me of my mother. Her hair was that exact color and I love it." It made my day/life and I've always felt a serious devotion to this woman. I make a lot of trips to the cemetery now just to feel the peace and connection with this woman. There have been tears but there have also been some really spiritual experiences between a girl and her grandma. From feisty redhead to feisty redhead. And the genetics that I referenced above come from this woman's side of the genetic line. BONUS! Or something like that. It was truly an honor to make the trip to the cemetary after church yesterday and see flowers already at her and my grandpa's grave (meaning other family members had been there) and to leave my signature memoral item: a pinwheel. I hate fake flowers and real flowers die so I leave a pinwheel. And somehow the beauty of a pinwheel as it is hit with a bit of wind is symbolic of life and of death and of the process of grieving. And so it is. My game of threes which are oh so related. 

The moral of the story: we are blessed beyond measure to have generations that came before us with the will and drive and super genetics to make our life possible. 

Until next time, my lovelies! 

-R

Put on Your Service Shoes & GO!!!

Fashion Feature - Sanuks

It’s been a mentally taxing week in my world which is why the blog has been a bit quiet.  If you read my previous post you know that I was out of town last weekend for a family event and I’m always a bit of a zombie when I get home from travelling.  Laundry-sort of done, sort of not folded, kitchen – sort of mopped, dishes sort of not loaded in the dishwasher, floors – sort of vacuumed, but sort of not.  You get the picture.  But, I’ve had more important things on my mind.  Service and the Friday fashion feature go hand-in-hand this week. 

Last week, my dear friend had the gut and heart wrenching reality of a child who attempted to end her own life.  This family has become some of my dearest friends since moving to the ‘hood and this particular child has been one whom I have loved from the beginning.  I LOVE LOVE LOVE all of them, but for some reason she is just fabulous.  But she definitely has her struggles.  It is so hard to witness because I do get it, from all sides, on a very small scale.  As I was driving out of the state last Friday, I received a message that the decision was made to admit her to an in-patient scenario due to the severity of the situation.  I have an extremely empathetic heart and I feel pain for other people regularly.  It can really get the best of me and I have to keep it in check, but it is how I’m programmed.  I thought about my friend’s family all weekend and prayed that all would be well when I returned to Utah.  When I rolled into town on Sunday evening, there weren’t a lot of answers and everything was VERY uneasy.  At minimum her stay would be 5 days which would put her coming home on Wednesday.  Monday afternoon I was sitting in my office trying to decide what to do next (mostly busy work) and I took a peek at my Facebook for a minute.  My friend had posted that she needed help with something she couldn’t do.  I sent her a message and this was her reply, “I need to clean her room so that it isn’t harmful in any way when she gets home and I just can’t bring myself to do it.”  Pit in my stomach.  BIG PIT.  Breathe in, breathe out.  I dropped what I was doing, left work early and sent a message that I was on my way with dinner for the other kidlets.  My friends are my family and this was absolutely necessary.  That night was one of the most humbling experiences I’ve had in a really long time.  It was one of those moments when you have to say a LOT of prayers just to get in the car.

So…. Here’s the FASHION part….I put on my big girl panties and my services shoes….my trusty Sanuks.

Last year I was introduced to Sanuks at the Ogden Marathon.  I purchased a pair of flip flops from a local vendor and I could not stop wearing them.  HELLO, comfortable.  When I pulled up their name on Amazon I soon found that they had all sorts of styles and I needed some more!!  I found a polka dotted pair (WINNING) that looked more like hippie, surfer shoes, but they were on sale so I couldn’t help it.  That’s my answer for a lot of things.  *DISCLAIMER -- bad idea* 

According to Sanuk’s website, “we strive to make products that are as much about fun and funk as they are about function. We've found that our feet are happiest when they tread the road less traveled- so we design our sandals accordingly! Because “Sanuk” is the Thai word for fun and happiness, our name is also our mantra.” (www.sanuk.com)

Well, there ya go!  Fun, funk and function.  Those are three things that are almost always and should be involved when service is on the agenda.  Volunteering our time is always a big sacrifice, but also donating our heart and energy to a cause that is probably less-fortunate that our own is taxing too.  But, we know that with a good pair of shoes we can accomplish ANYTHING!  In the last 2 months I’ve had the opportunity to wear my Sanuks for a number of different service events and it just makes me happy!  My tootsies are comfy so I can serve more.  Bonus!

I will add that as of blog composition (Thursday-ish), my friend’s daughter is still in the hospital and life is still very uneasy, but they are coping and conquering every day one-at-a-time.  Life is hard.  Life is a cluster of a few too many “what the hell" moments, but it is also FULL of sunshine and opportunities to serve others.

The moral of the story:  We can do ANYTHING, bring sunshine to others during our own storms and hippie surfer shoes, with a funny name, have superpowers at my house.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Come Together. Right now.

I spent the weekend with my crazy wonderful family in Idaho. My lovely cousin, Mya, married her sweetie in a gorgeous outdoor wedding. It was a whirlwind weekend that was a Mötley Crüe of families from multiple marriages and the common denominator was our Mya. It was pretty awesome. 

One of the things I cherish most about this side of the family is how simple we are. We don't need a big production to make memories. Really all we need is a boatload of hot dogs, a camp fire and a swimming pool. The photo above was taken by my cousin, Allie. I couldn't have done a better job. This pool is the center of our family. My great-grandparents had it and my mom and her brothers learned how to swim in this pool. My brother and I were fortunate enough to have some swimming lessons with our incredible great-grandpa before he passed away. And now, the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren continue to enjoy great moments in the pool. On Friday night we were in the pool well past sundown and we laughed and shared stories and bonded. Again. That night as I was laying in bed I had an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my simple, redneck, loud, loving relatives. We party like rock stars and we know it. And then I read this status update by my Allie. "Mya gets married tomorrow. So what do we do? Have a giant get together and roast hot dogs and swim. Who needs a fancy rehearsal dinner when you have an awesome family like this?" I will never feel comfortable in a big production hoopty-doo setting. I hate it actually. If there has to be brovado we aren't trying hard enough to really get to know each other. 

I also want to say how blessed I am to be the oldest cousin and really the "mostly aunt" to so many little people. I remember being so bent as a kid that I didn't have cousins my age but now I am overwhelmed with the pure JOY that I experience with these cousins. I can't get enough of them. The kisses and the teasing and the sweet baby smiles keep me going. I was especially touched when I was leaving my aunt and uncle's house on Saturday night and my darling cousin ran out the door and yelled, "I love you!!" And then she fell asleep in my lap the next day at church. Adore her. Adore all of them. 

The moral of the story: the memories we make with our family are critical. They don't have to include fancy places or fancy decorations, but they do need go include lots of laughter and "I love you." 

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Fashion Feature and Two Bits to Boot.

This weekend a big event took place here in the ‘hood.  The Ogden Marathon was on Saturday.  Because Ogden is awesome and the race is a Boston qualifier, our little home sweet home entertained a lot of people from all corners of the country and world in the course of 48 hours.  I decided that Friday’s fashion feature needed a little O-town history and I upped my game on the photos for my outfit to support this effort.  Historical 25th Street is the road that runs directly in front of Ogden’s historical Union Station.  When the railroad was in full force, H25 was called, “the red carpet of Ogden.”  Because of that it has always been known for its eclectic group of shops, galleries and restaurants.  And you don’t have to dig around too much to find out that it has had its fair share of “good stories” including bootlegging during prohibition, prostitution, and a myriad of other dicey events.  But, it is our history and our story and there are some incredible business owners on the street who do everything they can to preserve the culture, history and natural beauty of our “red carpet.”

This week’s feature outfit is one of my new favorites (I feel like I say that each time).  And the top reason is because it made me laugh when I realized, in the dressing room at D.I., that the very best way to dress this vintage moo-moo up was by coupling it with a Michael Kors belt and Calvin Klein wedges.  Bet ya money both of those incredible designers wouldn’t see that coming.  But, ‘tis so and it is just FUN!!!!  Similar to last week’s feature, this outfit is also epic because it went from total grandma to total awesome with some good accessories and sass.  That is the beauty of repurposed fashion.  Additionally, I feel very strongly that if a piece of clothing can stand the test of time and be modified at any given point to mesh well with the current styles, then it is worth buying and holding on to forever.  Along with that, one of my “tricks of the trade” is asking myself how many outfits I can create with a piece of clothing before I purchase it.  I know lots of women who shop in outfits because they’re afraid to try new things.  Or they just don’t ever shop because they don’t know what looks good on them or can’t think of ways to wear stuff when they are in the store overwhelmed with all the choices.  I get that, but it’s really limiting.  It’s kind of like picking a hairstyle that only looks good when the hair dresser does it and then looks semi-mullet or perma-bedhead when done at home.  If we focus on buying pieces of clothing that stand the test of time and can be coupled with at least 5 things that are already in our closet, then the return on our investment is worth it.  Obviously, there is always an exception to the rule (a hot pink pair of Jessica Simpson cork wedges come to mind), but overall, if we can shift our way of thinking to “how many outfits could I create with this?” it will save us time and money and we will be happier.

The details on this outfit are as follows:
Dress: Deseret Industries (Made in Hawaii)
Necklace: Deseret Industries (Handmade)
Earrings: 8th Avenue Thrift (Instagram Shop)
Belt: Michael Kors (purchased from TJ Maxx)
Shoes: Calvin Klein (purchased at Macy*s)
Bracelet: Chic Style (South Ogden, UT store)

Last, but not least, I want to sincerely thank my fabulous friend Sarah Boucher, future published authoress and educator extraordinaire, for humoring me and going with me to Union Station on Wednesday night and snapping these photos.  She’s a pooped inner-city kindergarten teacher by Wednesday, especially this close to the end of the year, and I really appreciated her getting off her couch to help.  It didn’t hurt that I fed her, but truly, she is such a good friend and sport.  And if you think I’m funny, look her up on Instagram @sarieboucher and on her blog/website www.saraheboucher.com.  We were blessed with good lighting and I didn’t have to do too much editing to make something simple, yet awesome for all of you.  Good friends are my blessing right now.  Well, always, but especially now, I have felt the unconditional support as I’ve had some frickin awesome curveballs.  Even last night we were an hour late for leaving because I needed a mental time-out and then I dropped an earring down my goopy bathroom sink drain.  UGH.  Life.  I tell ya.  And no offspring to blame it on.  But, lemons to lemonade and we made it and had lots of carbs and tasty dishes at Union Grill afterwards.

Moral of the story:  Ogden kicks ass, moo-moos look cute with fancy accessories and I have great friends.

Until next time, my lovelies.
-R

Happy Auntiversary!

I recently celebrated my 5 year auntiversary. It's hard to believe that it's been that long since I laid eyes on the little person who would change my heart forever. 

I'm the oldest of four and when my brother got married and I was still single, it was hard. It's a lot of pressure to be the oldest sib who is single in a culture that is centered around family and babies. 

The year neph #1 was born was probably one of the toughest in my career. Well, the first of a few. I was laid off from my job and had spent 3 grueling months looking for something new. However, because I was unemployed, I had the ability to go and stay with my brother and SIL for a week. Those days are some of my most treasured. We arrived at their house quite late and it just happened to be feeding time. My brother brought me that little red butterball and when I looked at him for the first time it was love at first sight. I am so blessed to be the aunt of three little people who are just fabulous. We have great fun and their little personalities crack me up. And it's fun to see my brother interact with his kids. And I'm not going to lie, I giggle to myself when they do something "naughty" that they totally get from him. He'll have his chance for that when I'm a mother, but in the meantime, I just sit back and laugh inside. My SIL is such a good mom and amazes me with the fun parties she throws for them. 

And when it's all said I done, I MELT when handwritten thank you notes land in my mail box. Kiddos being raised very well. 

I hope that we can all appreciate those sweet simple moments when sloppy kisses are better than anything and can carry us through the tough days. 

Until next time, lovelies!

-R

The truth is ....

This weekend my lovely sister and best friend graduated from college with her Associate's degree. It doesn't seem possible that my L cakes is grown up into a truly lovely and delightfully quirky woman. I mean seriously, she is just gorgeous!  There is a 13 year age difference between us so she was itty bitty and toddling when I was in high school. She was also learning to talk. One of the FUNNIEST games she would play was the game of threes. We would drive home from church and she would say stuff like, "trees, trucks and bananas." Oh ok! When a two year old is saying it, it is super cute. We loved encouraging her as older sibs would and at times it would bug our mom. (Even better). So in honor of my newly educated random sis, I present mine. Tulips, trains and naked feet. 

TULIPS: I love tulips. Like a lot. They are a sign of winter being over and when they finally make their debut it means we are almost done with dreary lameass winter. They are an interesting creature too. They are a bulb flower and have to be planted by October. If they aren't in the ground before snow hits then it isn't going to work. They have to sit there and they can withstand it allllllllll winter long. The other funny thing is how finicky they are about weather. First sign of frost and good bye. But I guess they can be that way after being cooped up in the dirt all winter. And the last funny thing is they keep growing even after they are cut. And a LOT! I've bought tulips for myself over the years and they literally go completely crazy with growth within a few days. I guess you could say I relate to them. But then that makes me sound crazy because I relate to flowers and maybe talk to a wooden spoon in my spare time. Anyway.... 

TRAINS: No I am not the female version of Sheldon Cooper from the CBS hit series, "The Big Bang Theory." I grew up in a town that was along the Burlington Northern train route in Southeastern Montana. We heard the train going through town at ALL hours of the night and day. It is truly a sound of home. I will never forget the first night away at college in Virginia when my mom and I sat on the porch and heard the train. I looked at her and said, "now I will be ok." So it only makes sense that I've landed in the town of trains as my home sweet home. Ogden is a railroad town to the core and still has a very thriving and functioning rail system. And I LOVE it. And my favorite place to be in Ogden is the gorgeous Union Station building. It is JUST magical. I can stand in the main lobby and imagine the history that has taken place. In the early days of Ogden you couldn't get anywhere via rail without passing through Ogden. Last week I had lunch at the restaurant located in Union Station called Union Grill. Before I left I snapped some photos. And they were the kind that I basically was standing on my head to get a cool edgy angle and then it happened. Magic. Just plain magic. And tulips. Hot. Pink. Tulips. 

I am also pleased to report that I was featured by two different Instagram feeds for my photos of Union Station that day. So thank you very much @wowutah and @ogdenonly for in a roundabout way recognizing a girl's love for trains and this incredible community landmark.

NAKED FEET: I hate socks. And I love showing off my cute tootsies. And I hate laundry. That is all. The end. 

The moral of the story: we can relate to anything and be random and still find such sentimental value in things like trains to keep a piece of home alive in our heart. Annnnd life is always always always better in flip flops. Always.

Until next time my lovelies. 

-R

Happy Mail From The 'Hood

In her book, “Persuasion”, the great authoress, Jane Austen said, “let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter.”  This quote is also a climactic moment in the movie, “The Jane Austen Book Club.”  The last time I watched the movie, this particular quote and the events that followed it really hit close to home for me and made me think about something that has always been close to my heart: sending and receiving handwritten letters and cards.  

When I was a little girl, my paternal grandmother NEVER forgot a major holiday.  She had VIP status at her local Hallmark Gold Crown store because she spent hundreds of dollars each year buying cards for each of her children and grandchildren.  I always looked forward to the Halloween card, the Valentine’s Day card and of course the birthday card with a check for the amount in which we were turning that year.  Those are sweet sweet memories.  Recently my mother found a handwritten letter in pink ink that I had sent to my grandma in the 90’s and it just made me smile.  1.  My personality hasn’t changed much, 2. I’m still in love with pink ink and 3. It reaffirmed my appreciation for that gesture of love that came with something handwritten.

In this new age of texting, email, and direct message on Instagram I feel like there is a disconnect to reality.  The reality of effort.  Effort that is put forth when we pour our heart out in a letter.  My grandfather was a decorated Air Force pilot during World War II and he and my grandmother exchanged many many letters while he was overseas flying in Europe and she was teaching school in Idaho.  That interaction solidified their relationship that lasted for 50+ years until she passed away from cancer.  And even after she passed away we still knew we could count on handwritten birthday cards from Grandpa. My maternal grandmother has also been incredibly thoughtful with handwritten cards and letters over the years. I may be an adult, but I love that I have a Grandma who sent me a handmade valentine this year. Xoxox from Grandma is just wonderful.  

The older I get the more I start to see the traditions I've set in my life that stem from the examples of my family. One of them is handwritten sentiments in the mail. I am not very good at remembering ALL the friends' birthdays, but I have recently implemented a little thing called "Happy Mail from the Hood." Why the 'hood? Well, Ogden has a bit of a rep and people who don't live here often give me crap about willingly choosing to live here so why not have a bit of healthy mockery. What they don't know is living in Ogden has inspired me to think more outside the box thus this little mail ditty. 

Initially it started out as a funny way to send encouragement back and forth between my friend and I while she lived in Seattle. Below are some examples of cards that I received from her over the last couple of years (yes, I've saved all of them)

As I started to develop friendships with my lovely, courageous Instagram followers I decided to broaden the audience. Each card is hand picked at a locally owned card store and the sole purpose is to be random, hilarious, and completely irreverent, but encouraging. That's pretty much how I approach life so why not gift it to everyone else. So far Happy Mail from the Hood has landed itself in Wyoming, England, Colorado, Utah, New Zealand and Illinois. For each card sent, the timing has been impeccable and the same goes for happy mail I've received. It just lands in the box when it's needed most. It has been so much fun and has taught me to keep thinking outside of myself because usually someone else needs a card with a flying fairy and her exposed underpants more than I need to lay in my bed and feel sorry for myself after a crap day. 

Moral of the story: write it out. Tell the one you love the most by making the effort to put pen to paper. 

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Friday Fashion Feature!

Each week I will do a fashion feature of some kind. This week is all about repurposing vintage clothing. I LOVE thrifting. Well, now I do. It wasn't my favorite as a kid because the secondhand store in my hometown smelled funny and people made fun of used stuff. But now, I find it to be a game to see if people notice if my outfit includes something thrifted because it almost always does. And I like it that way. 

This dress was found at the Deseret Industries in Pocatello, Idaho. I met my friend that day for some lunch and much need bestie recharge time. And as we usually do, we ended up at DI. This dress is probably circa 1974 and quite the gem in its original form. However due to some gifted goods up top and some propriety, I knew I would never go in public wearing it that way. But I could not let the idea of making it into a skirt go. 

I am a designer at heart. I can see outfits in my head days in advance. You throw me in a room and I'm rearranging it in my head to be asthetically pleasing. I just think that way. I also have no patience and anything past a straight line with a sewing machine and I turn into a vulgar villain and give up. So ya, this girl has had a seamstress on call in every place she's lived. My current seamstress is my neighbor and when I took the dress to her I said, "chop off the ugly top, leave the elastic and put a finishing edge on it that looks like curtains." And she did. 

The completed outfit shown on the right was my Easter dress and I felt like a million bucks. The vintage flair plus my own style was just fabulous. 

This dress (deemed my "Lucy dress") was also turned into a skirt that I still wear even after 10 years. 

Hope everyone has a great weekend!! This blogging stuff isn't so bad. I'll be off the grid with family and running away by myself for a sunshine getaway on Sunday. But Monday has a fab post coming! 

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Hunting and Fishing

In true #tbt form and because my last posts have been pretty heavy, it's time to laugh and remember yesteryear. 

The year was 2001. The month was August. The bags were packed and a small town girl was leavin on a jet plane to the land of the unknown: college. Away from home college. Virginia. Aw sweet har raising, sweaty-humid Virginia. 

In order to fly anywhere normal and semi-civilized from Montana one must connect in Salt Lake. And in those days (like I'm ancient) there were about 3 direct flights on Delta and they were morning, noon and nightish. Upon arriving at the airport I would usually head to the newsy store to purchase a mag and a snack. But this time, I decided to look at the books. Airports keep the New York Times Bestsellers stocked and this book JUMPED out at me. A girl in a red coat with cute boots?! The book has to be good! And with a title referencing hunting and fishing? How in the hell could I not buy it???! Little did I know. Best. Book. Ever. And funny. And random. And not about hunter orange anything. Thank GOOODNESS. I read that book from cover to cover in a few days and it definitely taught me a few things. Like how to be sarcastic as hell (didn't need much help) and that falling in love isn't about loving the obvious choice because of age, means, religious background, list of habits, list of quirks. It's about loving the person that makes you laugh and challenges you and helps you feel sexy. 

Melissa Bank's style of writing had me laughing in one chapter and tears in the next and taking notes in the next. By the end of the book I was so all over the place that when she brought it full circle as to why she titled it what she titled it, I CHEERED!!! 

I can still see myself sitting on the lavish front porch of the Hall I lived in giggling like a giddy girl as I read about Archie and Jules and their parties in the study.... good stuff. 

I've read it at least once a year since the day I bought it and I have two copies: one to share and one to keep nice.  Throughout the book there are snippets of wisdom. This is one of my favorites. 

Read it. You'll be glad you did. And just remember: we all have an Archie in our life. I did. And he was and probably still is my secret love.

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Once upon a time ....

Once upon a time far FAR far Far away there was a land and its name started with the letter “t” and ended with herapy.  Just outside the land of herapy there was a girl named Raylynn and she decided that before she could move out of her cardboard box called f-ed up and miserable into a glorious beachside mansion of peace and happiness she needed to go see the queen of herapy whose name was Jenn.  And then their journey began.  Raylynn, her big pink journal with colored pens tucked inside, and Jenn with her blank pieces of white paper, blue ink pen and a clipboard.  

When I made the decision to go to visit Jenn, I was a MESS.  M to the E to the S to the SSSSS.  To protect all parties concerned and to keep the muck tucked away in history (right where it belongs), I’m not going to detail the WHY I went because it actually became a secondary reason by the time I was done.  

There is a four-letter word out there that is very misunderstood and misused.  It is the word COPE.  I couldn’t cope.  I couldn’t cope with my family, I couldn’t cope with being a grown-up, I couldn’t cope with a boy and I couldn’t cope with my emotions being all over the place and in time bomb status all the damn time.  And it was pretty well-known to my inner self that there was some bottled up toxic sludge that needed to be addressed.  Talk about super awesome when you walk into a complete stranger’s office and look them straight in the eye and say, “um ya, I’m jacked up.  Can you help me?”  And then she looks at you and says, “I can help you, but it’s going to take a LOT of work on your part too.”  

There is another misconception about “therapy” that if you GO, you will be FIXED by GOING.  WRONG.  WRONG.  WRONG.  It takes work from both parties and the most work is going to come from the person looking at you in the mirror; yourself.  And that work will continue into the rest of your life after therapy.  Yes, you need to communicate with the sources of struggle, but it may be that you can’t and all you can fix is yourself. 

I am going to highlight the Top 5 things I learned while in therapy that I think everyone can do and benefit from.

1. Journal, Journal, Journal.  On visit 2 I was equipped and armed with a very fat journal and colored pens so that I could write it out.  And she told me to write my story.  Write out every character and their role and their demise and how they were affecting me and what I needed to do to deal with them better.  She said, write it like a story, because it is a story…it is your story.  A bit of a dicey, swearword-laden bitter diatribe was more like it, but nonetheless, it was my story.  AND, the genius thing about journaling is once something is written on paper it is transferred from the emotional side of the brain to the analytical side.  A purge in every sense of the word.  

2. Exercise.  There is ABSOLUTELY no way I would have made it through therapy without my gym membership.  I would wake up every morning very angry about the reality of peeling back my rotten onion and I wasn’t sleeping that great anyway.  So, I would roll out of bed and head to the gym for at least 30 minutes.  That’s all I could give.  And I did.  Every.single.day.  

3. Find your reporting angel.  Therapy is desperately difficult because you’re bearing your soul to a stranger but you’re still trying to process and heal.  So, find that person you can confide in and that will not judge you as you go through this angry healing ordeal.  My angel is named Melanie.  God bless that amazing friend of mine.  I adore her because she listened and didn’t ever judge me on how screwed up I was and the choices I was making with some situations in my life because my coping skills were basically shot.  She and I still talk almost daily and I know that I always have her to remind me that I have made HUGE strides since those horrible days and that I can make it through anything because I have those skills to cope.  

4. Have a reward ritual after the therapy session.  Can we all say cheese fries and Sonic Diet Cherry Limeade?  Nom nom nom!!!  That was my reward ritual.  I would go to therapy after work so it would be late when I was done and I would usually cry on my drive home and I knew that once I had those cheese fries and a Sonic Diet Cherry Limeade that I was going home and going to bed.  And it was code for my friends that if it was a “non-therapy day” and I was in trouble I could text them and say, “it’s been a cheese fries day” and they were on my doorstep and we were headed to the Training Table for cheese fries and a vent session.  

5. Let yourself be mad for 24 hours.  I usually would have a detox day after therapy and it generally wasn’t a very good day.  If you ask a cancer patient they will most likely tell you that the days after chemo treatment SUCK.  You’re sick and tired and have the looming reality of it not working and on and on and on.  Therapy really is mental chemotherapy and those days after are tough.  But, they are not impossible.  And after 24 hours it’s time to get to work and focus on the next weeks tasks that your therapist has set.  

I will remind you, if you’ve made it this far in the post, that if your opinion about therapy is if you GO, you will be FIXED by GOING then you are WRONG.  WRONG.  WRONG.  It takes work from both parties and the most work is going to come from the person looking at you in the mirror; yourself.  I am not cured.  I am not a genius at coping.  2013 presented some huge setbacks for me and I had to really work through them, but that is the POINT.  I had the tools to do it and I did.  And 2014 has been a flying cluster year of curve balls too.

The moral of the story:  Life is not easy.  And if you feel like you live in a cardboard box just outside the land of herapy, then find your Jenn.  Because living in a mansion of peace and happiness (by the imaginary beach with a yummy drink with an umbrella in it) is far better.  And so rewarding.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R  

Sunrise, sunset

Gift from God sunset from a few months ago here in the UT. Do you ever wonder if certain things in nature happen to remind you of those in heaven? This sunset made me think of my sunshine angel friend in heaven who was so instrumental in helping me become a strong, free thinking woman. Oh how I miss my Sherrie. Oh. So. Much. We mourn because we love.

The moral of the story; it's ok to cry. 

-R

P.S.-- now I'm caught up. 

Timing

Do you ever feel like your biggest battle in life is with time? I know I do. I think as women we are inherently wired to be clock watchers and time keepers. Sleep schedules, feeding time, body clocks, work schedules, church schedules, that time of the month or how far away it is or isn't. I know that God is in my details and in all our details but sometimes I just wish I could stop time in those good euphoric moments and break out my magic wand in those "what the hell just happened" moments.  Enjoying the simple moments is what it's all about because there are way more of those than anything else and that's what I/we need to hold on to for dear life.

Those are words I wrote a couple months ago along with the above picture on my Instagram. I have had a seriously rough year professionally but have been quite blessed personally. That is a TOUGH situation to be in because I am a one-lady show and if the fundage isn't there I don't survive. I have to dig deep every single day to stay motivated and full of faith to show up. I hate it. I want to be successful according to their terms so I can continue my happy life in the 'hood. I have no clue where God will put me next but I will bloom where I am planted. I hate timing. Hate. Hate. Hate. Because if I had my way I would be in a tshirt and jeans with my rockin messy bun and loving on kids with too much homework and messy faces. But that's not my mission just yet. We all have a purpose, we all have a chapter..

The moral of the story: God is in the details. And I've got to trust it will all be ok. Damn it. That's too hard some days. 

Until next time, my lovelies.

-R

Some of my personal favs from #shoeselfieforanneke

The power of the hash tag

So here I am with a blog post.  I know.  Don’t faint.  I could provide a list of excuses, both valid and fictional, for not posting sooner, but I won’t air the laundry today.  I think my number one reason why I haven’t posted on the blog is because I’ve been waiting for that perfect topic to start it off with.  Well.  I have it and it’s time to talk about it.  

As many of you know I have a public Instagram that shares the same name as this blog: @beyoudesignsut.  In the beginning I started it as an experiment to lend some helpful tips to clients in my dayjob on maneuvering social media; especially the life in small squares.  I also needed a way to post my outfits here and there because people regularly ask me where I get my clothes.  And then there was this constant bombardment of hooker thin, photo-shopped women ALL OVER THE FREAKING INTERNET flaunting their plastic and fakeness and I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I am anything but plastic and I wanted other women, especially women in Utah, to have that outlet to share their look.  I have spent tons and tons of years thinking I’m not good enough because my shirt tag said XL instead of XS and my hips were curvy and my calves too wide.  Additionally, I’m a child of the 80’s and 90’s and it’s safe to say that I’m still a bit scarred from being that kid that wore clothes from second-hand stores when everyone else was sporting their name brands.  But, I digress.  I promised no dirty laundry airage.

Day by day this whole thing has flowered into a seriously amazing journey and connection to some of the most COURAGEOUS people I know.  Like for reals.  I could talk for days and days and days about my lovelies, but I am going to focus on one today because SHE has changed my perspective on life.  

Anneke.

I found Anneke through a common thread that was also one that brought me to create this Instagram.  Hiya Papaya Photo-a-day is a photo challenge that was started by my friend from college,Cristi.  Anneke had participated in her photo challenges and I started to figure out that this woman was one.incredible.human with a LOT of challenges, but a sunshine soul and attitude that could be bottled up and sold for top dollar.  As I started following her feed, I started to learn about her biggest hurdle in life and that is one of a recovering anorexic.  Oh boy…the taboo topic that we all whisper about when we see people we suspect might ‘have one’ but never really take the time to learn about.  It’s not just about the eating people.  It's just NOT.  It is so much more.  And I can say that because I have lived it on a very small scale.  You may not believe it if you see me now because I’m just a normal weight, not a super model skinny bean.  But, because of some emotional struggles of my own including a lifelong marriage to depression, food is the first to go for me when the road gets rough.  When I was in college I lost 50+pounds in 6 months because I quit eating because I couldn’t cope.  Yep.  It happened.  So, anyway.  I connected with Anneke the minute I started reading her heartfelt posts about putting on her sassy crown and facing her fears.  About 8 weeks ago she started to talk about the possibility of entering a treatment facility to address some other struggles that come with an eating disorder.  My heart hurt for her because it is so desperately hard to make decisions that revolve around you being in trouble and it means you’ll have to face it and talk to strangers about it.  Been there too.  Another story for another day.  

As the time drew near for her to enter the facility I could just feel my empathetic heart swell even more.  The good-byes to family, friends, and her cat named Couch along with the bags being packed and the tears and the reality.  So very hard to read about.  That was the week before Palm Sunday.  Now, one more thing I forgot to mention….Anneke lives in New Zealand.  I am in Utah.  Do the math.  I will do the math.  16 hours ahead.  She lives in the future.  The Saturday before Palm Sunday in the US, I was at my friend’s house and I had this thought, “we’ve got to do something for Anneke.  She needs this.  What could we do?”  Because we are on opposite corners of the globe I couldn’t just drop a care package in the mail or send a card that would arrive in two days.  I just couldn’t.  And it sucked.  Because that’s my nature.  As I wracked my brain to think of her common interests and something that was easy for anyone to share it dawned on me:  shoe selfies.  Some of my MOST favorite pictures that Anneke would post were shoe selfies as she would go on her adventures of photography.  And how do we start a revolution?  We make a hash tag.  So I started searching for that specific set of words that weren’t taken.  And then it came.  #shoeselfieforanneke.  Because I was a geek and had done the math I knew that if I posted my idea on Sunday morning and could get the Yankee ladies to do it that Anneke would wake up to HER Monday and would see these posts.  I didn’t expect mountains of response.  I shot for 10.  Because let’s be honest, even knowing that 3 people care about you can change the world.  Well….it was/has been/is more than 10 posts.  As of this morning we are at 227 posts.  I am floored.  I am humbled.  I cannot tell you how much stress and hurt has gone through that lovely woman’s heart because she has to be cooped up in a place that is full of people with issues far greater than her own.  It’s hard to heal when you’re amongst this type of thing.  Healing amid toxic is nearly impossible.  It just is.  But she is doing it.  And I am so proud of her.  

Because this is NOT ABOUT ME I will not go into the details of how this has blessed me, but it truly has on insane levels.  Service heals the heart and I thank God for the whispering in my heart to create this hash tag.  

The moral of the story: If you have a whispering to help someone, do it.  Even if it seems so simple and trivial.  It is not.  Nothing is a coincidence.  NOTHING.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

And there will be a next time.  

I promise.  

-R