Paula, the Kings and I

Tomorrow marks the 3rd anniversary of the death of Michael Jackson. I liked Mike, the younger version. I have a couple of his albums, danced to Thriller in my high-school-dance-class days, and thought he was cute and extremely talented. As he got older, he just got weird. But still, when I learned of his early death, I mourned for the passing of the Michael of my youth.

It's funny how you'll never forget where or what you were doing when certain events took place. For example, I'm sure everyone remembers where they were the day the twin towers came tumbling down. If I were 10 years older, I'm sure I would remember what I was doing when Pres. Kennedy was shot. I even remember where I was when I heard the news that Elizabeth Smart had been found.

I remember where and what I was doing when I learned of the sad news that the King of Pop, and the King of Rock had both died. And both times I was at Paula's house.

My cousin Paula and I are only 2 days apart. When I was younger, I took pride in the fact that I was the older one, a fact I don't brag about anymore. We spent many a summers sharing a week at each other's homes growing up. I remember I loved going to her house, she had a purple room all to herself. I had to share my purple and pink room with my sister. She lived in the valley where the streets were flat and perfect for bicycle riding, made even more fun because she had a bicycle built for two! I lived on a hill where riding a bike was more exercise than it was fun. She had a Circle-K convenience store within walking distance where we could load up on penny candy. I had a 7-11 located at the bottom of several very long hills. Paula had a cat. I had a dog. Everything that I loved about going to Paula's house, she probably loved the opposite about coming to stay at mine.

It was in August of 1977 during the end of one such stay that I learned that Elvis Presley had died. My Mom came to pick me up, and as I was loading my stuff in the back of the car she told me they found Elvis dead on his bathroom floor that day. I was sad. I liked Elvis, the younger version. I had a couple of his albums, had danced to the tunes of Jail House rock in my younger entertain-my-sisters-by-making-up-dances-with-them days, loved the old Elvis movies, and thought he was extremely handsome and talented. As he got older, he just got fat and weird. But still, I mourned for the passing of the Elvis of his youth.

Fast forward, June 25, 2009. Paula and I got together to celebrate our birthdays. Trey and I met at her house to enjoy lunch; our boys played together while we got caught up on our lives. Chelsea called on my cell to tell me Farrah Fawcett had died, another icon from my Charlies Angels feathered haired days. I knew about Farrah, the news was on the radio on my way over to Paula's. But then she dropped the bomb-shell..."Did you hear about Michael Jackson? He died." 

Sadly, I couldn't tell you where I was or what I was doing when I heard about the passing of Pres. Hinkley, or any of the prophets for that matter. Not sure what that says about my character or where my priorities lie. Maybe the events with Elvis and Michael stick out in my mind not because of who they were, but because of who I was with. Paula has always been such a dear cousin and sweet friend. I love her and wish we could find time to spend more of it together.

Happy Birthday Paula! Let's do lunch...if we dare.

the Proposal

I love keeping secrets, I'm pretty good at it too. So when Curtis texted Tary last tuesday and asked if he could meet with him, I didn't tell a soul. Not even Chelsea.

Curtis came by Tary's work on Wednesday, and after waiting for 20 minutes, which probably seemed like an eternity in a non-air-conditioned building stocked with car parts and stocky men, they finally met up.

Tary didn't give him a hard time like he said he was, for which I am grateful; I'm sure Curtis was nervous enough without having to decipher sarcasm from seriousness. He let Tary in on his plans to pop the big question on friday; and since the only secrets we have between us are how much I actually spend at Kohls, and he at Cabellas, he included me in. I didn't tell a soul. Not even Chelsea. I lied; I did tell my co-workers...only because Tary called me at work after Curtis left and they overheard my shouts of joy. After my outburst, I felt an explanation was necessary. 

Friday finally came. I knew Kayla and Curtis had plans to spend the day together, so I eagerly awaited the phone call. It came...about 9:30 am. Kayla was so excited! She had great news to tell me! "Guess what?" she said,
"Curtis bought the ring you always wanted, proposed on bended knee and now your engaged!"
Is what I could have said, but I didn't want to steal her thunder, so I excitedly replied "What?"
"I scored 100% on a mystery shopper and received $100! I also got a 87 out of 92 on my test, and got a raise at work! This is the best day!"
"Oh, you think it's good now? Just you wait Kayla"...of course I didn't say that either.

I thought she would be calling me back later that morning; nothing. The afternoon came...and went; nothing. By evening I was beginning to wonder if Curtis had chickened out. Finally, just after 9 pm, Kayla called. My fears were confirmed, Kayla and Curtis were breaking up. Apparently he was a two-timer. Yea right, I wasn't buying it; afterall, I was in on the secret. And then she started crying. What the crap?! Was she being serious? Had he really turned out to be a jerk and had us all fooled into thinking he was Mr. Wonderful?

Now I don't know if she really was crying, or if she was fake crying, but my nomination for best actress in "My Momma's a Sucker for Tears" goes to Kayla. Just as I was about to have a good cry with her, she told me the good news, they were engaged!

Here's how it went down:

There is an overpass near Curtis's house for pedestrians. Earlier that day, someone had stuck the red plastic cups in the chainlink fence and spelled out "I (heart) K". I don't know if his proposal budget didn't cover the cost of more than one bag of cups and he ran out and couldn't spell out her whole name, but Kayla saw it and said, "Ah, I love K. Is that me?" "Of course", he replied. "That's so sweet!" and it was.

They went out to dinner and came back, again driving under the overpass, when Curtis noticed a few of the cups had fallen out. "Let's take a walk to the overpass and fix your sign". While walking towards the walkway, Curtis turned and facing Kayla, so she couldn't see what was in front of her, he showered her with kisses her all the way to the top. Then he stepped aside so Kayla could see the colorful display of chalk art along the concrete; "Festival of Color, REAL soccer, Dance, Happiness Kayla and Curtis, love..." memories of their good times together, and at the very end of the journey were the words, "Kayla, will you marry me?"

Then in true gentleman fashion, he got down on one knee, popped open a ring box, and properly asked her. She bawled like a baby, threw her arms around his neck so hard she knocked him down where he smacked the back of his head so hard on the concrete, it gave him a concusion. As he was passed out, she brought him back with 'true love's kiss'.

I don't know if that really happened, but i thought a little payback was necessary. That's right little Ms. actress...don't mess with the screenwriter.

The funniest part of the story...Curtis didn't put up those cups that spelled out I (heart) K. But when Kayla thought it was aimed at her, he used it to his advantage and had a great excuse to get her up to the overpass. Well played out.

Nicely done Curtis!
 Welcome to the family!

I'm baaack...

I'm back, but I don't know for how long. I've been busy, and I'm only going to get busier.

I've missed blogging. I feel a little rusty. Feels kinda like doing a cartwheel after a 30 year absence. You still remember how, it just feels a little uneasy stretching out your arms and letting gravity plummet you headfirst to the ground, hoping you still have enough arm muscles to hold the additional weight you've put on since you were 14. If this post seems a little disjointed, like i've been dropped on my head, I'll leave it to your imagination as to why.

So, you may be wondering what has brought me out of the depths of bloggers retirement? Happy news! Kayla and Curtis are engaged! I was so excited to tell everyone in church on sunday, but Facebook and Tary beat me to it.  But since I love a good love story, I'm going to tell it to you.

Last fall, Kayla made the decision to move out of her apartment in Ogden and move into her Grandparents home in Bountiful. (Good thing my parents went along with her plans). She was turning 21 in January and would be at the ripe old age when unmarried women in the church face the difficult decision, "Should I go on a mission?"  She had always talked about it, and thought moving in with the grandparents would help her save for the big event. Saving money on rent but spending it all on gas to drive to work and school seemed silly, so she transfered branches from Ogden to Centerville.

It was at her new branch that she met a girl who seemed insistent on playing match maker. Mystery date #1 didn't take, so when she tried her matchmaking skills again, Kayla was a little hesitant. This time, however, Kayla was able to see what he looked like before she agreed. Curtis just so happens to also work for America First, at a different location, so she looked Curtis up on the company phone list to view his picture. He is very photogenic, say no more. Curtis also had the ability to look up Kayla's picture, (this says alot about his character) and decided to contact her anyway. jk. They got to know a little about each other through instant messaging, (another method to avoid speaking in person) and agreed to meet in a group setting.

Kayla asked her high-school friend to double date that night. Red flag. Kayla and Nicole together = silliness. Again, Curtis gets kudos for seeing past the awkward first date with sidekick Nicole, and gave her another chance.

I'm not sure which date number they came down to west jordan and stopped briefly at our house, but it must have been early in their dating scene because it was another double date. I was alone at the time, Tary and Trey were out, and I was covered in fuzz from sewing McKenna's minky blanket. They didn't stay long, and we only made the obligatory small talk, "Hi, nice to meet you. What are you guys doing tonight..." that sort of thing. But I do remember asking Tary that night if it was wrong to pray for Curtis to fall in love with our daughter.

Prayers are answered.

They did fall in love, fast and hard. I think they were pretty much inseperable from that time on. (Pretty sure Kayla is rolling her eyes right now and saying, 'Oh Mother'. Keep in mind this is my blog and my interpetation of the events. Feel free to rebuttle in the comment section). I reminded her Tary and I dated for three years, but he living in Tooele, and I in Bountiful, we only saw each other once a week. Cell phones, texting, or e-mails didn't exsist. We communicated through old fashioned long-distance phone calls and love letters through the mail. Whereas, if they weren't with each other, they were connected at the thumbs (aka texting). Therefore, it was okay to fall in love with someone they've only been dating for a few months.

I knew they were meant for each other, even before she admitted it. Curtis was the first guy that when I mentioned marriage she didn't freak out. Instead, a little smile would cross her face; that's when I knew. She was a goner.

I think i'll stop the story here...that gives me a reason to come back tomorrow and blog some more. Stay tuned for the proposal...