#LightTheWorld Photo Challenge

For those who are looking for simple ways to share #LightTheWorld on social media, I've created a photo challenge based on the "In 25 Ways, Over 25 Days" calendar that was released on mormon.org LINK FOR CALENDAR PDF. Some of them are pretty specific to a charitable activity so I had to get a little creative for the prompt. There are also a few that are really personal like apologize to someone and forgive someone who has done you wrong. Obviously, you don't have to air that for the public, but if there is a symbolic photo that you can share that would be great! How little or how much you choose to share is up to you!

Feel free to share this on your social media platforms, invite your friends and be sure to add the hashtag #LightTheWorld on your posts.

Happy Christmas, Happy Serving! ❤️
Follow my "In 25 Ways, Over 25 Days" on Instagram @beYOUdesignsMT 

Oh, The Places.

Last week many elementary schools in the United States celebrated the birth of Dr. Seuss with a day dedicated to his books and beloved characters. Social media was overflowing with cute art projects, soldier dads reading to classrooms full of kids and lots of quotable quotes from the good man himself.  As I enjoyed the total cuteness of Dr. Suess kiddo fandom, I was reminded of a Dr. Seuss book that continues to influence me even as a grown-up.  The book is, "Oh, the Places You'll Go!"

Who doesn't love Dr. Seuss and his quirky characters and perspective on life?  I loved sharing my thoughts on the Grinch last Christmas.  However, this book definitely takes the front row seat of favorites for me.  "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" was published in 1990 and was Dr. Suess' last published work. It was a deeply introspective book that touched many the minute it hit the bookshelves. I was lucky enough to receive a copy of the book from a family friend when I graduated from high school. She had personalized the book with photos from my childhood and teen years to go along with the words. It meant a lot to me, but I really had NO CLUE what places I would really go, literally and figuratively.

Fast forward 15+ years and here I am at a crossroads of life. I wouldn't categorize it as a mid-life crisis because it is far from what I define as a crisis. If anything it is a time of rebirth, redefining and fine tuning. Added to this mix is the experiences my family is having as my youngest sister finishes up her college education and anxiously awaits to graduate from college.  She and I have always been very close and I am almost a second mom (but cooler and mouthier) so I've had some mamma bear sentimental moments with her. She's my kid sister, not this gorgeous grown-up woman. She and I have talked a lot about what is ahead of her and what her plans for the future include. She is MUCH wiser and more sound with her finances than I ever was or will be, but she still experiences a lot of fear of the future like any normal, yet crazy senior in college. She shared some sentiments on Facebook last night that I really loved and had to laugh about because I remember being in her shoes, except Facebook was still being created and the entire universe didn't know I felt this way. She said, "Whoa. It just hit me that I'm turning 22 this year. What the heck happened to, oh, I don't know, my WHOLE LIFE? Oh, the things I have seen and done. There is really nothing that special about turning 22. It's all like, "Congratulations for settling in to your twenties. Enjoy them while you can 'cause before you know it, you'll be turning 30!" Great. Thanks, Karma. I'll try to remember that." I quickly replied by saying, "Enjoy each moment. I spent a lot of my 20's hating life and wishing for something better."

I often think about what I would tell my 22 year old self.  It's basically what I am telling my almost 22 year old sister. There are a few other things that are deeply personal and not meant for the public eye, but I really do think about what I could have done better.  It took me a good 10 years to embrace my imperfections and cut out the noise of those around me telling me what they thought I should be or do. I rang in my 30's not caring one damn bit about what people thought I should be doing, but I was still an internal mess.  I was coming off of two years of crazy tough therapy as well as an awful job that took its toll emotionally and a relationship that nearly suffocated my soul. Every year of my 30's has been a HUGE year of growth and I can honestly say that last year could not have been survived without the years that lead up to it to prepare me for battle.  BUT, that still doesn't negate how excruciatingly hard it has been to recover and grow. But, life goes on and I feel so much happiness as I discover new places to visit and new adventures to start.  And it doesn't hurt that we have KILLER sunsets in the country.  How can I NOT thank God for the stunning view????

The following passage from Dr. Seuss' book really hit close to my heart because of the many adventures I've had in my 30's.  It says,

"Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And then things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too."

I love this so much! Things can happen and they WILL. I, along with the rest of humanity, dream of having a magic wand to change our circumstances, but that's impossible. Each of the places we go in our lives are with much purpose and intended for growth. Growth is best achieved when we are forced to dig our way out of the dark and find the sunshine again.  Each of the places I've been in my life have brought incredible friends to my circle and critical lessons. Last night at dinner I laughed with my bestie and her husband and mused that if she'd had a perfect marriage with her first husband then she wouldn't know me. Her shit storm became my sunshine and 12 years later we still continue to reminisce on those crazy early days of our friendship and what we've weathered together.

As things start to happen for me here in my new home, I am filled with a TON of peace and happiness that I survived last year, both emotionally and financially, and that I was brave enough to take a chance on a place that is not what I expected it to be. I'm excited to discover new places here in Idaho that I've never been to before.  The next couple of weeks include a lot of travel for work and I'm stoked to see new places, try new restaurants and bask in the beauty of nature.  I'm also excited to plan some vacations that have been dreams for YEARS and treat myself to places that I've always held back for the "what if" scenarios of my life. The time is now for Miss Ray to ENJOY her life and show some self love and care.  That is truly the best place for me to be.  Too many years have been about others first and me second.  I can't do it anymore and that's OK. So off to paradise I will go.....fa reals.

The moral of the story: even the brainy people have to use their footsies to make shit happen.  Find your happy place and GET THERE already!

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Harmony Say What??

Greetings, my lovelies! It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks at Chez Ray Country. As we've been closing up the final stages of winter (WOOOOOOOOOOOT!), my entire team at work got crazy sick and of course spread their germs to the boss. Guess how thrilled I was to cancel travel plans to the 'hood in exchange for a NyQuil-induced coma of grand proportions last weekend? To add to it, I've been struggling with transitional growing pains with my move and HUGE shifts that come with life changes and facing realities and blah blah blah.  AND, in case that wasn't enough I decided to dabble a bit in the sludge that is online dating.

So, here's the deal.  I HATE online dating about 90% of the time. The 10% of the time that I have maybe liked it was because I got damn lucky and had the chance to spend some quality time with great guys that were still not my soulmates. I've gone the rounds with friends about how much I hate it because they have had GREAT success with it and met the love of their life via electronic communication and it was "the best thing they ever did." My own best friend met her husband of almost 10 years that way and that was when meeting online was archaic compared to now. He's a pretty decent guy and I remember VERY well when she knew she was in love with him and that they would get married.  P.S. - he's actually one of the greatest men on the planet so I don't ever have much of an ally in her for my hate fire of that one site with the word harmony in it.

That brings me to my next point: harmony.  Who the hell puts harmony in their business name? It's a recipe for disaster if you ask me and I often wonder how harmonious all those sappy relationships on tv actually are after a few years of matrimony.  The whole concept of this particular venue is insanely frustrating for me because it involves 8 bazillion stages and if I'm bored with the mundane process of multiple choice questions I can guarantee that the type of man I enjoy being around is also bored or too busy to care and will never find me anyway. I am the kind of woman who wants to cut the crap, ask some questions to see if we may enjoy each other on a first date, and then get to the point. I'm not a dance recital, fluff promoting, superficial sweet nothings kind of lady. Either it gels or it doesn't.

Then I found this meme on social media.  BOLTS of LIGHTNING, Batman, we have a winner! I promptly posted it on my Instagram feed and had a brief ranty moment mixed with some real honesty that I truly dislike electronic communication and would much rather have a real, live, in-person conversation any day. I mean, let's be honest, I've been in the service industry for my entire career and I've been on hundreds of potentially awkward "first dates" with clients and I'm a champ at making conversation even when I want to punch them in the face.  If I don't have a human in front of me, I would much rather have a phone conversation because I can still hear them and channel their voice signals.  I'm damn good at what I do at work, but electronic communication is NOT my first choice when I'm trying to display my affection or attention and that definitely spills over into my personal life as well.

Communication.  What a beautiful word. For some people I know and love, it's nearly as scary to say out loud as that other c word that sort of sounds like omittment, but with a c.  It's really hard to use grown up words when you just want to lay on your carpet square with your spill-proof sippy cup and take a nap. I get it! But, the fact of the matter is we HAVE to communicate to get shit done.  We just do.  Today I participated in a communication and sales training for work and it was incredibly enlightening when we got to the behavior analysis segment. I've been hearing about this part of the training since I joined the company and I was anxious to take the test for myself and my team lead to see where we landed.  Much to my surprise, we were very much a yin and yang mix.  As I looked back on some specific situations he and I have weathered together, it made sense as to how we approached the issue and how we proposed an outcome.  I also took a minute to analyze a friend of mine as well as my mother and I was SPOT on for both of them.  I'd like to say that the analysis of my mother was a news flash or epiphany, but it wasn't.

The one element of this behavior test that I appreciated the most was the notion that even though we fall into these categories and some of them are a little more challenging to deal with than others (my mother) that we CAN interact with all types of people.  And how do we do that??? We have to choose different words and actions.  Gasp!  Wait what? Additionally, we may react differently in certain situations than we do in others as well as reacting at home vs. the office. I've known for a long time (basically since year 2 of my career) that I'm WAY more OCD at work than I am at home. The dream of channeling the obsessive attention to detail of paper clip type and color or optimum sticky notes dimensions will never manifest itself with folding laundry. Be that as it may, I also discovered today, that this particular behavior test was very true with my personal friendships as well as my professional relationships.  I am a talker and a supporter. I need validation.  I need your ears and your affirmation. BUT, I also want to support you and am fiercely loyal and always willing to listen and be the mamma bear, resting bitch face queen, whatever you need, when you need it.  Sound familiar to anyone who knows me well?

My point?  Know your communication style and figure it our for those you care about and whose relationships you value the most. Even though I get ranty about my mother, I really do make an effort to communicate with her in the way that she understands, but I'm also gutsy enough to tell her straight up what I need from her to make our relationship work better. THAT part of the equation is a topic for another day. But, I know that it is possible to make the relationships work when we make the effort to communicate with harmony for both of us.  And so with that I will say this..........

The moral of the story: future baby daddy will likely not be from an electronic meet up facilitated by a website advertising harmonious match-ups and that is for the greater good of humanity.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Love Is Transforming.

In case my nephews' view on love wasn't enough, I'm gifting you with the next installment of what love means, courtesy of my friend's preschool students.  I was DYING as she shared them with me and had to change up the order of sharing musings from other kiddos because these were just too funny to share after the conspiracy holiday.  Before you wet your pants laughing, please remember that we really should just take what 3 year-olds say and apply it to life and be done.

"Love is like a transformer toy. It's fun and then it's not. But if you pretend to be a transformer then that's really fun." Love is SO transforming.  Some days it can make you so damn crazy that you want to cry and other days it carries you through the heaviest burdens and trials and brings insurmountable amounts of happiness. And some days it's just so chill and you look at the person across the room and laugh because they are your lobster (Friends reference) and they are weird and you love it. Some of the greatest examples of transforming love have been my friends who have walked side-by-side with a spouse during a health crisis or some other life rattling event. This fall my dear friend lost her husband to cancer and it was one of the most inspiring and heartbreaking things to watch as she loved him to his very last breath and STILL continues to love and remember him as she raises their three incredible kids who are so much like their daddy.  Love is transforming when imperfections take over and a couple has to strip their pride to decide if they can and want to make their relationship work or give up.  Love is transforming when two people want nothing more than to have a baby and that is not what God has in mind and they have to fight in the trenches of infertility treatments and/or adoption together. The transforming power of love means that you face life together with grit, compassion and faith.

"I think love is for hipsters, spaghettioes, and my mom because they're all weird." Spaghettioes are WAY weird.  Is it a starch, is it meat, does it make me glad that the zombie apocalypse hasn't happened yet and that's all we have to eat? Who really knows, but I concur that love is weird....and some hipsters are dang weird and wear pants that are too tight, but a lot of them are pretty endearing. Many of the endearing kind live in Ogden, my former 'hood, and I heart them. And what about moms?  They are so totally weird, but most of us are weird just like 'em and are too chicken to admit it. Don't tell my mom that I might be one of them.  

"Play dates are super exhausting. You think they like you, but they really just want to play. BORING!" At this point in the conversation, I would have switched in to the sweet, loving feminist in the room and say, "sweetie, ladies don't got no time for the playas. Either they like ya or they don't." Boring wouldn't be my choice of adjective as much as blasted frustrating. I too find play dates exhausting and I'm a grown up. I saw a meme on Pinterest this week about women not wanting to waste time playing and that we just want to get down to business and date. Yep.  Cut the crap and put the word commitment back in your vocab selection and let's do this. Otherwise, stroll on back to high school and play those man child games with your besties. We deserve the best, whether we are male or female, and the games are BORING. Let's be real, let's be raw and let's LOVE!

"I had a movie date."
"That's exciting, what did you watch?"
"I don't remember, I was more sad he didn't notice my lip gloss and eye pretties." Boys. What oddly handsome and necessary creatures. How many of us have dated someone and in the midst of dating we bought new shoes, a pretty dress or actually DID our hair and he didn't notice and we were pissed?  The transformation of love sometimes means that we have to bring those little things that matter to their attention in the form of a bullet point list with the most important at the top.  And if the most important is "I wore red hooker shoes, put on mascara and lip gloss for you so you better notice" then make sure they know it. I'm no expert on dealing with men, but one of the things I've learned from working with a lot of them over the years is they respond better to less fluff and more bullet points. Super romantical, right?

 "Miss A, I love you a whole lot."
"I love you too!"
"Like as much as to the sun and back. Although you might die at the sun, so I can't love you anymore." Damn the boundaries. What are boundaries you ask? Well, if you have to ask me then you go to that corner and I will stay in this corner and go on loving at a level I can....you know the kind where I don't burn up and DIE. I'll admit that it's challenging to put boundaries on certain relationships because we may love too much.  How do we define loving too much?  Loving someone who doesn't love us back as much as we love them just isn't fair. It's sucky, but we deserve better. We so totally deserve to love on the moon and not burn up.  Hashtag: put that on a pillow.  

And so it goes, the humans of a 3 year-old variety have their crap together on love and we should listen up.

The moral of the story: Love changes us, but shouldn't burn us. It calls for a lot of grit and laughter and perhaps some strolling to a real date in our pretty red shoes and it's totally worth it when they're our lobster.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Love Is Happy.

Is it just me or is February the other F word for a few of you? I can't say that I particularly enjoy it myself for an extensive list of reasons that starts with winter is stupid and the 14th is that 1st quarter conspiracy holiday.  Now, don't get me wrong, I can't get enough of pink and red, roses, hand dipped chocolates and boxes of conversation hearts that bust my teeth, but it gets old pretending like the oozing blah blah blah is fun and that I should expect all those gifts listed above on THAT day more than any OTHER day.  So let's muse for a minute.

I've often brought up the subject of love on le bloggy blog. I've talked about how those three little words are some of the hardest words for some people to say audibly.  I've also talked about loving ourselves and taking care of our needs in the midst of hard times. But, I haven't really talked about it from the perspective of the profoundest love experts around and those are the little people. Have you ever had the chance to sit at a table of 5 year olds and listen to their version of life and living and loving? Compelling stuff. I had the chance to learn a whole lotta something while I was doing service in the Land o' Kindergarten in Utah. So, that got me thinking; what would the little people say about love?  And more specifically, what would MY little loves aka my ruffian, goofy nephews tell me that love meant to them?  What emerged was some of the sweetest, cutest and totally hysterical responses and I hearted all of them.  So, what's their opinion on this important matter?  Well....read on and find out.

Love is huggin' and kissin' according to all of them in their exact words.  It was a unanimous decision that love means you hug and you kiss. I can work with this! And I concur!  The huggin' and the kissin' is AWESOME when you love someone. Sometimes you have a little more huggin' than kissin' and it's OK. Hugs all around as far as I'm concerned and smoochies (S family dialect for mauling with kisses) for those we care about most or brothers who we want to embarrass the hell out of with a sloppy wet one on the cheek when he least expects it.

Love is happy.  And then the aunt's heart melted because their cute little faces said love is happy almost in unison.  Love IS happy! I am not a unicorns and rainbow blogger and going to fill you with the crap that love is EASY. Love takes a LOT of work and sometimes, as nephew #3 so eloquently chimed in, love is sad. Sending your love to heaven is super duper sad. Tough love is way sad. Tough love is not fun, especially when you have to walk away from someone because they are sucking the life out of you and making you bat shit cray. But!  Love IS happy and when the laughter, joy and trust is present, the happiness overflows.  I will also submit to you that if you are in a situation that you THINK is love and you are constantly sad, please get help and/or get out.  Please evaluate the root of your sadness and have the courage to make a change. That change may include some tough love of walking away, but I know you can do it!

Love is to be kind. I openly admit that my oldest nephew melts my heart with his tenderness and attention to the well-being of others. I didn't say he's my favorite, but he is so so much like my side of the family, specifically my dad, in that he truly cares and LOVES everyone. He remembers people's names and their life stories and he wants to know about everything. It made me smile that his version of love was to be kind. Amen and amen, my love. There is entirely too much hate in this world and it boils my blood when people are bullies and bigots because someone is different than they are. What the hell, people? Did you not learn the song, "Jesus Said Love Everyone?" Oh wait....that's a Mormon thing....scratch that. That song is a real thing and the title is just as the song goes. We need to love EVERYONE. I've been on a NetFlix binge the last couple of weeks that somehow roped in a lot of WWII movies. I'm fascinated by the history of that war, but I've watched a lot of movies that portrayed the other side of the war, namely the extreme racism and hate for groups of people that was completely unjustified. We can show infinite amounts of love just by smiling at a stranger and saying thank you to someone who least expects it. Kindness does not mean bravado, nor does it mean a marriage proposal.  Gasp..... We are all fighting a fight within our souls, play nice in the sandbox of life would ya?

Love is giving them a card and toys.  As the video interview continued they got progressively more silly. Surprised?  3 boys under the age of 6 being silly?  What?  No way.  My sister-in-law managed to catch nephew #2 saying that love meant buying them a card and toys. Ha! I love it. Definitely an answer from a kiddo, but let's be honest, I love handwritten cards so very much and if toys translates to Tiffany's then I'm SO IN!  However, I kind of wish that I could still construct a gaudy, yet super creative valentine box and have people put the itty bitty cheesy valentines in it. In fact, I would so love if a future sweetheart did just that on good old V Day.  He might win more points than some fancy pants dinner that requires I wear pants and make-up.....we can do that any day. Future Mr. @beYOUdesignsUT is still incognito, but I really appreciate it when someone is thoughtful enough to send me a handwritten note of any kind.  A sentimental old school hippie.  That's me.  I really do want peace and love....and pizza....oh wait....wrong topic....squirrel!

I hope that each and every one of us can find much to be happy about when the topic of love comes up in conversation and all over the media during the F month. No wearing black and a veil on February 14th, but you don't necessarily have to bust out your cupid get-up either. Love because you get to love. Love like it is a gift because it is a gift. Love can be your sunshine on a cloudy, cranky ass moody day. And if you still can't find anything to smile about just remember this.....the nephews' parting words on what love meant to them were this.... "love is lots of spanks."  Cue the giggling.  You're welcome.

The moral of the story: Love is the breath of life and the greatest test of life. Follow your heart; it will never ever let you down.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Quality or Quantity?

The Ray's Reading Extravaganza continues and this past week I finished the book entitled "The American Heiress" by Daisy Goodwin.  If you've read my other book review posts this summer you've gathered that I've read some pretty random books, but every single one of them has provided me with laughter, tears, and a LOAD of compelling themes a.k.a. food for thought and blog topics!

"The American Heiress" had my attention when I saw that it would attract the "Downton Abbey" fan....guilty as charged so why not read it?  It was also a longer read than anything else I've read this summer so I knew it would take me more than a week to finish it.  I tend to get a bit of teenager ADD when I read books and after page 250, it better be damn good with great character voice and plot or I won't finish the book.  Wouldn't you know it, this book got juicy at about page 225 so I was hooked until the end.

The premise of this story is one that is common to the origins of 19th Century aristocracy and birthright; women married for money, a title, a big house (manor) and prayed like crazy that they would birth a male heir so that they weren't homeless and penniless after their husbands passed away.  They didn't vote or work for a wage; they birthed, shopped and had tea with their stuffy neighbors.  If you're a Downton Abbey junkie, you know that Mary, the eldest daughter, is on the hot trail to marry a semi-decent titled man who can take over the estate so that she can continue to live the high life that she's had since birth.  This book is the same gig.  An American heiress, Cora Cash, sets out to marry a English man (cue the swoony music because he'll have an accent) because she wants to be that kind of woman: the woman who marries a man who needs her money, but has a little of his own (and a title) when she finds him so she is set in society and can keep her mother happy.

I'm not going to lie, I struggle with the facts of pre-women's rights days.  I hate reading about women who were exiled because they could only birth daughters and women who had severe eating disorders because they were condemned to a marriage that was a political alliance and not two people in love joining in matrimony to have a fulfilling life and family together.  As I read this book, I was oddly haunted by a lot of cultural expectations that still exist among women of the modern age.  Yes, I know that you can totally go against the grain and do it your own way, but there are a lot of cultural standards that are still set and expected to be adhered to by religions and other sets of standards.  I, myself, having been raised in the Mormon Church, have felt insanely ridiculous pressure to marry for the resume and not the human.  I have friends who have been raised in other religious sects who have felt much of the same pressure.  To that, I say "what the hell?"  This is 2015, people.  Life is short, it should be sweet and ENJOYED.  We claim that we are on our way to equality, but are we?  At what point will it be OK to say, "I'm exercising my right to be treated as an equal in a marriage by not forcing myself to marry random dude so-and-so because he asked and he seems to be a pretty OK choice and can provide me with a wedding in the church (temple) and he has a job that will pay our bills."  Holy run-on sentence, but HOLY reality of life.

After the Supreme Court ruled for the equality of marriage earlier this year, I cheered.  I cheered because I thought, there has to be more of a mentality for equality in ALL things and if the right to marry whoever you want, male or female, is the start then hear hear...I'll toast to that!  I am a LOVER of the men, but I was so happy to see some movement for choices that served the masses.  Women (and men) all over the world live in agony and abuse and a web of lies because they are living with relationships, both marital and professional, that are completely illegal, ridiculous and/or avoidable.

As "The American Heiress" continued there was a constant looming hunch that Cora's husband, the duke, was somehow being unfaithful to her.  The social expectation (shudder) was that most men who were in politically driven marriages had a mistress on the side aka they were sleeping with the one who lit their fire while producing heirs with the one who was living in their castle and shared a sir name.  Super awesome.  Cora is constantly wondering if she is doing enough to please her husband and provide him with happiness at home so that he doesn't feel the need to take a mistress, if he hasn't already.  I have to give props to the author because she had me guessing right until the end as to the correct answer.  The moving pieces from all angles were nail-biting.  As I've thought about these themes since finishing the book, I've come to these conclusions, or sealed what I already knew:

• I am SO grateful I was not born a rich girl.  As much as I would love to not have a care in the financial world, I will take being poor, with substance, fidelity and true love, any day.  
• We have a lot of work to do to be truly equal in relationships.  We think we are liberal, but mentally we are still programmed to be submissive in some areas.  Stop that.  Embrace that you are a contributing human being to society for more than being the 9 month holding tank for humans.  
• No matter what, we deserve to be in relationships with someone who is QUALITY not quantity.  I bet if we could conduct an interview with Diana, the Princess of Wales, we would have all sort of facts to back this statement up.  God rest her soul because she went through so much to be hitched to the carriage of a royal.  Her consolation, as she watches from heaven, is a son who married the untitled woman he loved and has been an incredibly amazing husband and father, unlike his dad.  

I hope that my musings on marriage and equality will provide a glimmer of hope and inspiration to someone out there who feels the pressure to marry for quantity over quality.  If we are believers in true destiny, whether it be that which is provided by God or karma, then HOLD OUT to the day when your Gilbert Blythe comes walking through the door to love you til the day he dies and treats you like the incredible, smart, sassy lady that you are through and through.  

The moral of the story:  We deserve equality.  Lean in, stand up, speak up, don't settle and make it happen. 

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R 

The Atlas of Love.

In life it is either feast or famine for me.  I'm a hopeless cause for balance some days and sometimes I just throw all care and worry to the wind and tell myself "it could be worse, I could be a dangerous addict of some kind."  Might sound a bit harsh, but I find it rather amusing (most days).  In the last year I have read more books than I have in the last 5 years.  College fried my brain and my love for reading and it has taken me this long (10+years) to recover and find my reading bug again.  While I was exiting my last career, the stress was SO HIGH.  I would come home at night and want to crawl in a ball and cry, but knew that wasn't always the answer.  I started to see some great book recommendations on Instagram and Facebook and started to read again on my iPad.  I'm a big dork about reading and if it makes my eyes hurt or I can't see the words, I won't do it. **old lady status** The beauty of my iPad is a bright, back light that means I can read in my bed, in the dark.  Perfection.  The last two books I read have been actual hard-copy books, but only because of a random chain of events, including a new light bulb in my lamp.....don't ask.....  The first book I am going to save for a 2nd edition of Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams, but the second gets its own post.  Read on, my lovelies!

Do you ever walk into the dollar store and stroll past the books and wonder if it's all crap or if there might be something worth reading hiding in the pile that will only cost you a buck?  On occasion I do, and the last time this happened was when in Idaho visiting my Jo bestie.  She was picking up a few items at the dollar store and the books were in the front of the store...bonus!  I started to dig through them and this book popped out at me.  As you know from my post about Sarah Boucher's book, "Becoming Beauty", I am a sucker for a pretty cover.  I shout praises to authors who have publishers with art departments that know what their doing with cover art.  I mean, I'm only one person, but I take the cover in to serious consideration when deciding whether or not to read a book. 

The front of the book says the following, "This story of women's friendships and redefining 'family' flows with lovely writing."  I could end my review right now because the person who said it was spot on.  But, I'm not!  

There were five themes in this book that I want to briefly address.  They are: friendship, faith, fear, family and love.  

Friendship:  The Atlas of Love is centered around the friendship of 3 graduate students in Seattle.  Talk about three different personalities and family structures too.  The reader quickly realizes that opposites do attract and these three girls are miraculously besties because they are SO different.  The biggest irony of this book is that one of the main characters is Mormon and she's kind of a weirdo.  I can say that because I was raised Mormon and I could tell that the author was very well-versed in her quirky Mormon.  Still so funny, but probably more so because I could relate to it better and have known LOTS of women over the years very similar to this character....let's just leave it there.  The entire premise of this book is friendship through thick, thin, sad, happy, angry and repeat over and over.  

Faith:  As I said earlier, there is a blatant reference to faith because of the Mormon main character, but she does not dominate the faith discussion.  Throughout the book, there is much deliberation about faith in life, faith in God, faith in humanity and faith in what is meant to happen.  Who can relate to that more often than you care to admit?  **pick me, pick me**

Fear:  This book involves a baby.  It involves a baby that is a BIG surprise and thus enters a boat load of fear from numerous characters.  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you didn't see coming?  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you DID see coming?  That's the toughie for me personally.  Knowing that the end is inevitable because the writing is on the wall so you brace yourself for the impact.  Fear of the future presents itself in numerous forms throughout the book as they deal with an unexpected pregnancy, some broken loves, balancing life and the mourning and coping that goes along with it.  

Family: As I quoted above, the book talks about redefining family.  Without giving too much away (ok, I'll give away as much is on the back cover), these three girls take on the raising of the baby boy who is named Atlas.  They affectionately call it tri-parenting and it sort of works.  They are all insanely busy graduate students so they make the decision that the only way this little boy can have a relatively normal life, given the circumstances, is for them to commit to be mothers together.  It really is a heartwarming and delightful concept in theory, but they soon find that the mamma bear a.k.a. she who cooked and birthed said child is still the final say in all decisions made about Atlas.  One of the things that really touched my heart was the passion that came from the two friends who weren't the biological mothers, but dedicated their lives as if they were his mother.  In addition to their commitment to this little boy, their families also committed to being adoptive grandparents and everything that accompanied these roles.  I related well because I am the proud adoptive aunt of lots of little people who I fiercely love as much as my biological nephews and niece.  Motherhood hasn't been my adventure yet and I am so grateful for the little humans who call me Auntie Ray who aren't biological, but who I love like they were from day one.  

Love: The backbone of any great story is love and this is no exception.  Love is kind, love is selfless, love is patient and love is tough.  And when I say tough, I mean both kinds--the enduring and the challenging.  I know from personal experience that the more deeply we love the more deeply we hurt.  It seriously sucks when it doesn't go in our favor, but it is also the most rewarding and beautiful gift to have in life.  My heart runneth over when I see the beautiful, giggly faces of my nephews and niece via FaceTime and even more so when I get barrel-hugged (a real word) when I see them in person.  The human heart and soul has infinite capacity to love if we will let it.  I will be the first to admit that I am one who can easily put my heart in the deep freeze and let it sit on ice for an indefinite time, but I don't like how it makes me feel.  I want to love and be loved, thus I take risks and embrace my ability to feel the way I feel and live life as it comes.  

The quote above is near the end of the book and it really inspired me.  Not too long ago I referenced "The End" really meaning "The Beginning" and I think this quote attests to that as well.  When we have loved then we can come to the close of a moment and begin the next set of amazing moments.  Love is our focus.  Love can and will continue to reclaim us if we will let it.  And just as this quote says there will be anger AND love, with hefty helpings of both, but love will always win.  I will say it again....love will win if we LET it.  Anger is hella toxic and it can eat you alive and burn your insides if you let it.  Take the time to let friendship, faith, family and love heal your heart because when love is in the air, the next chapter is about to begin.  

The moral of the story:  All you need is love.  The Fab Four knew what they were talking about.  Trust it and let it reclaim you.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Embrace Your Worth....ALL of it.

When I started "Let It Be & Celebrate" my intended purpose was to promote and encourage women's empowerment, fashion for all shapes and sizes and mental health.  There is so much that takes our focus away from ourselves and I have been really blessed to find healing and strength from my blog while providing the same for others worldwide.  I've written a lot about the many women that I've become dear friends with because of my Instagram account and the common denominator of all of them is the constant battle to know who they are and where they fit in.  

If you would have told me a year ago that I would be connected with women from England and New Zealand and Denver and Pocatello, I would have laughed.  Ok, maybe not so much Pocatello, but the others I definitely would have laughed.  Each of these women have had great struggles with their self worth and have overcome them in ways that have inspired me.  In particular, my friend from England, has helped me truly incorporate my new mantra "lemons to lemonade" in my life.  She has helped me time and time again with a simple text from across the ocean to tell me that my worth is far greater than the stress and drama that I was allowing in my life.  We call each other our international lemon sisters because we have BOTH had some really sour lemons that have turned to very very sweet lemonade because of our friendship and courage to keep moving forward.  

Last week I found the following quote on Pinterest, "She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines.  She was beautiful for the way she thought.  She was beautiful for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved.  She was beautiful for her ability to make other people smile even if she was sad.  No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks.  She was beautiful deep down to her soul."

Stop the 50 point to-do list in your brain and think about that for a minute. . . . . . . . . . 

Now I'm going to type it again and force you to read it....AGAIN.  

"She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines.  She was beautiful for the way she thought.  She was beautiful for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved.  She was beautiful for her ability to make other people smile even if she was sad.  No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks.  She was beautiful deep down to her soul."

Powerful.  Hashtag truth.  Are we actually living our life that way?  It's took me a month to compose this blog post because my own self worth was broken a bit at the end of March.  I won't bore you with details, but it's taken me a solid month to come to terms with some circumstances so that I could truthfully share with you my thoughts on self-worth.  Human life is not perfect.  If you think it's going to be all the time, silly you.  Silly me!  Challenges make us stronger.  They super suck too, but they also force us to find those blessings that are hiding extra careful.  I've had to dig deep this month and have some frequent and pointed conversations with myself to assure my brain and my heart that this too shall pass and that I AM worth the wait and the right thing WILL happen in God's timing.  Period.  So. Not. Easy.  Earlier this month I was not doing so great due to a cold and lack of sleep and the list goes on and on.  My self-esteem hastily walks out the door when those two things occur and my bestie named Depression sets in quick.  I avoid being sick at all costs for this reason.  Anyway, on that Tuesday morning, I was sitting in the McDonald's parking lot trying to pull myself together and the song "Fix You" by Coldplay came on my iRadio.  I've heard and sang along with this song 100 times, but this time, it meant something different.  This time, I felt like comparing the "main character" who is attempting to fix me, to God.  Whoa, right?  The second I did that, my perspective changed.  I calmed down, I listened and I was still.  When it was over I took a screen shot of the album cover so I wouldn't forget about this moment.  A few days later, I decided to pull up the music video on YouTube.  It is an even better inspiration because it adds some visual elements that I absolutely loved.  I want each of you to take a minute to be still and watch this video and remember that God knows who you are and He LOVES you.  Even amidst the lyrics of a popular rock song we can find that reassurance that He cares and is aware of our trials and knows our worth is really far above rubies.  

The moral of the story:  our self worth and well-being is all that matters.  God knows best and He will provide a way.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R

Busy making other plans.

The late great John Lennon penned the phrase, "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." This quote has always been a personal favorite, but in the last five days it has brought on new meaning. Very powerful meaning. 

Today my maternal grandfather went to heaven. He's been sick for a lot of years, but tough as nails and lived through multiple heart attacks, Cancer, diabetes and the list goes on and on. But, when it was time to go and he knew it, it happened fast and for that I am grateful. 

When I drove away from my house on Friday the 13th, I had no idea what was about to happen. As far as I was concerned I was off to have a 4-day play weekend with my bestie and her family and we were going to craft and eat bacon. Friday night I received word that the end was near for our Granddad. We had family council via Skype (VERY normal for my fam) and we decided that we would hold tight on gathering because he was given 4-6 weeks. I was out of town on mini vacay, my SIL is about to give birth and my BIL was in a show here in Ogden. 24 hours passed and all was well. Granddad came home, was communicating with his family and we all settled in to the wait. Saturday I started to go into crazy brain mourning mode. I'm a spaz, especially without enough information and I felt this limbo and uneasiness that I couldn't shake. I went to bed so sad on Saturday and tried to sleep. Sunday morning I woke up to an email from my mother that said something to the effect of "come sooner than later." Well awesome. Here I was on a mini-vacay and she was telling me this. To add to it this is my BUSIEST week for personal and professional reasons. I started to get really worked up and sad again. I laid in bed and decided to cancel my crazy day (Wednesday) and plan to go on Tueaday after some important work appointments in Idaho Falls. Jo always makes me bacon and amazing breakfast at some point so I went upstairs and had a hearty feast. As you know from previous posts, I nap and then cope. Such was the case this morning. I told her, I couldn't do church because I needed to nap and game plan. She was very understanding, as always, and I went back down to the cave... I mean guest bedroom and crawled back in bed to sleep on it. 

As soon as I woke I up I felt like I should at least get dressed for the last hour of church and meet Jo to help her teach her kiddies class. I made a call to my sister and then a text landed on my phone from my aunt. Things aren't good. You better come quicker. What? When did this happen? I JUST got an email from my mom THREE hours ago! I called her and panic set it. Suddenly NOTHING else mattered (cue the Metallica classic) and I needed to pack, gas up and GO. In my frenzy to get ready for church, I realized I had forgot to brush my teeth because, well, said toothbrush was chillin in my purse pocket. Smooth, Raylynn, smooth. Thank goodness for gum in all sorts of places in my car. 

As soon as I was in my car listening to "happy music" the water works started. I thought, "ok, this is it. This is what you need. Cry it out because you are the oldest grandchild and the rock." That went on for four hours as I sped across the state listening to tunes and trying to sing myself some comfort and cry it out as much as possible. 

Upon arriving at my grandma's I found more joy than I expected...wait! Who am I kidding? We are a music-loving, food-in-mass-quantities eating family. Of course there was joy! I went into my granddad's room and my heart sunk. Here he was. He couldn't talk, but had enough gumption to sit up and stay sitting up. I sat next to him and talked. He's always the one who insists we call when we are traveling to and from his house. I felt like I should tell him I made it safe and that the weather was perfect. I felt like I should tell him that I cancelled my whole life to be sitting next to him. I held his hand. I felt his pulse and when he was on the phone with his cousin he squeezed my hand. My heart ached already. He knew it was me and I knew it. I didn't go to bed until 130 that night because A. I was super caffeinated and B. I was super worked up with my reality. My aunt and I talked it out and finally both went to bed at 2. Yesterday we spent the entire day together. As soon as my mom arrived I knew that my granddad would start to let go. She's his only daughter and the oldest and subconsciously when she showed up, there was order. 

Finally at about 4, I felt like it was my turn to really have my moment with my sweet granddad man and document it. We are a genealogy family and I wanted this memory preserved for my future babes. He was miraculously more responsive so I went in. I took his hand and had a conversation along with my grandma and uncle. I would share that photo, but it is so private and special. My heart knew that he knew that it was me. I sat there for a long time. Later that evening we sang hymns to him and at that point I knew that I had been inspired to sing what I sang to help him calm down and get ready. My kiddo cousins were all so brave and openly mourned and cried a lot. I did not. I cried in private. I couldn't fall apart while they were. Mamma bear instincts in full force with my little flock of cuties.

This morning I laid in bed knowing he was going to leave us today. I drove to their house and when I saw him he looked completely different than twelve hours before. I gave my final kiss and "good bye, I love you" and walked away. As I was leaving, my incredible grandma hugged me and said, "your granddad was always so proud of all his grandkids. You started that. He was proud of you first."  

The level of sadness is high. I am one of the many grandkids who is named after him. I have such random fond memories of going to visit on the farm. It was never about fancy, always about family. He called me honey and said I love you and was a guardian of great magnitude if we were on the road going to or from his house. He taught me that a good man is one who works hard and always kisses his sweetheart, especially after family prayer. He was crusty and grumpy at times, but he was our granddad and we absolutely adored him. Tonight I shared the following on Facebook, "One of my fondest memories as a kid was having ice cream for dinner with my grandparents while my parents were on a date night. It was August so granddad's garden was in full harvest so he and my grandma had fresh tomatoes and we had Schwan's ice cream which was ALWAYS on hand. I was maybe 10 & I still remember how special it made me feel that they let us be hooligan kids and just eat ice cream."

I am so sad to have him gone, but I know he is happier and painless. That is all that matters. My tear ducts needed a good flush anyway and they got it. I am also sad that I had to cancel plans for things that last week mattered most. The concert and the Oscars party are oh so trivial compared to the opportunity I've had to bond with family and hold his hand and say "I love you" just one last time. 

The moral of the story: what happens when we are making other plans is usually a big fat sign from above that it is time to remember our priorities and who matters most. The fluff can wait. 

Until next time, my lovelies. 

-R

Anniversary.

I was sick for the majority of this week so I haven't quite caught up in normal life which really means I've been wracking my brain to think of this week's blog subject. And then it hit me, my fabulous little Instagram feed hit the one year anniversary point. Almost like a whirlwind first year of marriage... So fabulous yet so damn turbulent that I couldn't forget about it even if I tried.  And so here I am with a sappy recap. Ha! Just kidding.... We all know I hate sappy. So let's go with sassy and a bit jaded. Yes, perfect. 

For those of you who have recently discovered the random musings of beYOUdesignsut, you most likely don't know that it really started out as an experiment.  In my former career I was a small business banker and almost every meeting I had with clients the subject of social media would come up. Naturally, me being a woman of 25... I mean 30-something, my clients generally assumed I was a SM (social media) expert. Well, not really. I had a private Facebook page and a private Instagram page, but for the most part I kept it pretty simple. And all the nonsense about hashtags and "at" signs were just that: nonsense.  At the same time I had a number of people that would consistently ask me about my outfits and where I bought them and how I came up with them, etc.  And certainly last but not least I was pretty sick and tired of seeing all these websites and IG feeds with rail-thin chicks who you know are mostly air brushed and sans personality and making those of us with curves and flab in all the wrong places feel like shit.  And then the experiment was born. 

In the beginning it really was all about the fashion. I made a few idea boards and then would post my personal outfits. The picture above reflects some of my first posts (minus the bottom right photo).  It was a really good coping mechanism for me as well because I was going through some rough emotions due to some failing relationships and my job was turning out to be hell on earth. Everything was happening for a reason. 

I had NO IDEA how blessed and watched over I would soon become because of this little experiment. One day I stumbled on an absolutely incredible declaration of a gorgeous woman in the UK who, with IG as her witness, made the promise that she wasn't going to let the looming thoughts of self-hurt win the battle and that she was going to overcome her struggles. I tear up just thinking about it because it was powerful. So powerful that I sent her a message and we are now the dearest of friends and we are international sisters. My Lottie. She was because of a hashtag search. 

And then there were my kiwi girls. I don't really know how we all found each other, but I know that it was absolutely no coincidence. These brave, beautiful, snarky and incredible women are fighting the vicious battle that is eating disorders. Oh how much I have learned from each of them and I am truly amazed at their courage and sass and ninja skills in a world that is just downright terrifying.  

And remember how this was all about the FASHION? 

Then one day I found Simone. A stylish instagram shop owner who became an instant friend because of her infectious love of thrifting and a long list of other things. She is by far one of the most creative women I have met in all of this. And she is an incredible mom, even though I know she thinks she's not on most days. 

And remember how this was an EXPERIMENT?

Throughout all of this I found that I was not only changing the shift of thinking for a few, but I was healing and mending too! Because believe it or not my self esteem has taken a beating a time or two or ten. It is NOT easy being a woman in Utah. Ugh. Let's not get on THAT tangent. But, I was also dealing with some unresolved mourning and the journey with that alone went hand-in-hand with my "experiment." 

In February I decided to do a fashion feature during the week of Valentine's Day about loving the body type you were given and how to dress it to flatter it, not to hide it. In the midst of all of this I found my dear friend April. She is an Ogdenite extraordinaire and a true foodie and a fighter of fights that need no explanation. I absolutely adore her and her little family. They have become dear friends who I appreciate so much. And her husband may have been the final straw of convincing me to learn to ski this year by his compelling sales pitch for the learner's deal at Snow Basin. Damn him and his sweet sales skills. 

There are so many things that I have learned in the last year. But I think the one thing I've learned the most is this: there is not a single damn one of us who is not fighting a daily battle of some kind. And if you think you aren't then look in the mirror and have a serious chat with yourself. Additionally, our nationality, religion, sexual preference, marital status, number of children, number of shoes we own or fancy purses we hoard does NOT define us. What defines us is the beating heart in our chest, the lungs that breathe the air around us, the brain that thinks and the two feet that carries us to our next destination. We all still want the same things: to be loved, revered and respected. 

God be with each of you who have made it to the end of this post. You are not alone. Fear not to be YOU.  And if your biggest fear is saying I love you to the one who you've loved for months, don't worry....you're not alone. I promise. I understand. 

The moral of the story: everything happens for a reason. And thank God for that.

Until next time, my lovelies.

-R 

Three words.

I have had serious mental block as of late and it's been challenging trying to decide what to write about for my next post. I read a beautiful update on Facebook this week that was written by an associate who is in the rebirth stage following an extremely painful divorce. It brought tears to my eyes as I read her very raw, poignant reflections of love lost, yet strength gained. And that got me thinking. . . Let's talk about three words.

I LOVE YOU.

For such a short sentence it sure is hard to spit it out at times. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where my parents always said, "love you" to close their phone conversations. As a result, it is very natural for me to end phone calls with the same sentiments. However, I am very cautious as to who I hand it out to face to face. For some reason, when it comes out of our mouth it suddenly means something. Like we better damn well mean it. Uh ya!! Then why is it so hard to put down our guard and admit the truth? The f word. ... Not THAT f word... The OTHER one... FEAR. Damn that vixen called fear. A ruthless monster on all accounts. I have had a couple of relationships that I knew we were to the point that I was ready to say it and almost did, but held back. And those three words sat in the back of my throat like a fat brick blocking my voice chakra. I have wondered if it would have gone differently had I said, "wonderful amazing man of mine, I love you. I love your quirks, I love your messy hair, I love your kind heart and I love your crazy heart. Please say you love me back." It's doubtful that it would have turned out differently but it still breaks my heart a little bit. What makes me afraid to be rejected when I know that my love runs deep? When I commit and attach my heart strings to that of another, I am in it. In it for the long haul. But, here's the issue. They are not. Their insecurities and inability to bare their soul is not there. It sucks. Sucks so bad it makes me ill to write of it. But, I must. What can we do to bridge the gap between, "I can't muster up the courage to bear my soul" and "please don't ever go away, I love and adore you more than words can describe." I wish I knew. 

I also want to address the idea that one must birth a human in order to bond with it. I know, switching gears, but for me it is related. The older I get the more likely it is that I will love a man with children. It is also possible that my ability to birth my own children may not happen. I don't know, but all I know is this...a child does NOT have to rent my uterus for 9 months for me to love it like my own. In fact, I welcome the opportunity to be a bonus parent because how cool is that to say to  a child, "guess what you are a lucky one. I am your bonus mom!" Hells ya! I would do it in a heartbeat. The longer I live in Ogden, the more I run into kids who I would scoop up and take home and give them a good life and love them like I had carried them for 9 months. One such girl was in my friend's kindergarten class this year. She was too old to be in kindergarten because her family had "forgot" to take her to school when she was supposed to be in the class. She would regularly come to school in dirty, smelly clothes and talk of sleeping in a car instead of a warm bed. Seriously. This stuff kills me. Why? Why? Why? And when I finally got to meet this sweet girl who I had heard so much about I found a beautiful resilient little girl who, at face value, had NO idea that her life was less than ideal. We MUST remember to offer our heart freely when we feel the urge because we never know the power that it will bring to another human. Especially kids. They can't help it that they were conceived in a dumpy situation so we must be aware and allow the love to flow. 

The last point on love that I want to address is probably that which is the most difficult to accept. Love for ourself. Holy hell, why are we our toughest critic? Why must we be the enemy to the face in the mirror? I know of a handful of situations right now where the depression runs deep and the voice in the head of these people is burning their insides one disparaging comment at a time. From my own personal experience I can attest that one of the most fearful times in my life is when I actually heard my inner-self say these things and I couldn't fight back because I believed it. It has taken a lot of work and a lot of prayer to get to a point where I trusted my inner-self so I didn't have to rely on the outer influence to determine my worth. I am NOT defined by my body shape, my boobs size, my family size, the year of my car, the color of my skin, my marital status or how long I've been in a career. I am defined and driven by my relationship with God and my soul. And I mean that. And just because I said it doesn't mean I'm perfect or it's because of this or that. I have to dig deep. REALLY deep. I am sad a lot that I haven't had my babies yet and I'm losing sleep because of politics, not teething and runny noses. But, I know that the love that I feel for those around me is REAL and GENUINE and that I will and am blessed for my goodness.

So.... The moral of the story.... He's out there. He will attach and I will let him.

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

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

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