Viva Las Vegas

My seasonal affective disorder has been acting up due to the eighty-seven feet of snow we have here in Utah, so I jumped at the chance to road trip down to Vegas last weekend with Erin & Ryan. There's something wonderful about sunbathing in February.

I knew it was going to be a fun weekend when Ryan demonstrated his recording studio sing-along skillz in the first hour of the drive.
In case you can't tell, he's holding his earpiece and the mic as he rocks out.Also he holds the mic for Erin. What a sweet guy.Then I rock out in the back seat. Hot, I know.On Saturday, we drove to Primm - home of the famous Plastic Penis of Primm, right Andi?? Ew gross. I rode the roller coaster and peed a little, then spent way too much money shopping at the outlets there. Erin and I walked too fast for our male counterparts who got easily distracted in the casino, and we rode the shuttle back and forth while we waited for them to catch up. What shocks me about this picture is that I look as pale as Erin. Cory, Ryan & Heather weren't too happy that we jumped the shuttle without them.I also demonstrated the proper lip contortion for drinking through a straw when you don't want to get lip gloss shmang on the straw. Hot, I know.We visited a tasty little haven called The Cupcakery, where I spent more money than I've ever spent in my life on pastries.This is why no one likes me when I take pictures.This was the highlight of our time on the strip, I don't care how much Grandma Joy complained about it. He was an awesome Elvis, even if he was a little sweaty. Ok, a lot sweaty. This is what happens when you ask a girl to take your picture.This is what happens when you try to take the picture yourself:

cockeyed sunglasses and a big green thing in Erin's teeth that you didn't know was there.

And this is what happens when you ask Ryan to take your picture.

This is how Erin reacts to Ryan's crotch shots,
and this is how I yell at Ryan to take the damn picture right.This is Ryan's idea of "taking the picture right."

And this is me crotch-checking Ryan because I'm sick of him taking pictures of our crotches.

But definitely one of the highlights of my weekend was on Sunday when Yanaj called me to share exciting news: one of my secrets had been published on the web. About a year ago, I made a postcard that publicized one of my deep, dark, dorky secrets and I mailed it into Postsecret. Every week I check the site and this week, Yanaj saw that my postcard had finally been posted on the website! And now I'm blowing my secret wide open by blogging about it and fully embracing my dorky side.

Check it out: http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com/ - it's the very first postcard. And enjoy the retarded tingles you will feel for me when you picture me practicing my Oscar acceptance speech in front of the mirror.

It's good to be me sometimes.

My New Favorite Thing

I know you've all been dying to hear how Step Up 2 the Streets was. Well I'll tell you: if it's any indication of how awesome it was, every single show at the theater was sold out by Thursday afternoon. Lucky I bought my ticket on Monday.

And now I love this guy and his freak nasty dance moves: It might be because he reminds me slightly of my highschool boyfriend:

Maybe its just the hair. Or the large forearms.

My Favorite VD

VD meaning Valentine's Day, of course, and tomorrow is shaping up to be one of my favorite's ever. Why? Because I've got a big date planned with pretty much every other single gal I know, and I've already bought my ticket for Step Up 2 the Streets.

Also, I'm buying myself roses. In years past, my company has bought roses for every employee but they decided to do away with that this year. Hmph. But we can still order the roses, pay for them, and pick them up from work. So I'm buying one dozen purple roses for myself. That's right, I don't even care. I want flowers and I don't need to have a boyfriend to get them. So there.

By the way, if you'd like to send me flowers at work, my favorite color is purple and the address is 727 N. 1550 E. Suite 400, Orem UT 84097. I'm just throwing it out there.

Looks Like Somebody's Got a Case of the Monday's

Today I got my hair caught in the paper shredder at work.



Yeah, it was just one of those days.

My Friend is the Best

Coming back to work after three consecutive days in bed is never easy, but my BFF Lady made it that much easier for me. A package was delivered to me at work this morning that almost totally made up for the past 72 hours I spent watching "Rock of Love 2".

I knew it was going to be a good package when I saw Elvis on the shipping label.

Check it out - McBicep in a handy, disposable package. I think I'll grow him in the toilet bowl.

One of the major loves of my life - the Mustang.

ALL of the major loves of my life - clockwise from top left, Elvis, Rocky, the Eagles, Batman, and Rambo - handmade in a bracelet by Lady! It nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I couldn't ask for a friend who knows me more truly and loves me more dearly.

Sometimes Not Even Rocky Has the Answer

Did you ever have one of those days where you're sick and coughing constantly and everything is going wrong so you take Nyquil and climb into bed at 7:00 pm and there's a bag next to your bed full of dirty tissues and spit and the humidifier is running constantly but you still can't stop coughing so you call off work two days in a row and you try to distract yourself by watching Rocky but your brain just won't stop talking to you and telling you how you should be different in every possible way?



Or is it just me?

Although, I WAS able to sleep with YOU...

The title of my post is to prove the point that anything taken out of context can be completely, and hilariously, misconstrued. Case in point: I was chatting online with G this morning and the subject came up about how she has trouble sleeping when she shares a bed with someone. Hence the title of this post.

In other news, I got me some sexy new darker hair this weekend. This is what my hair is supposed to look like every day. Unfortunately, this is what my hair looks like only when Lez does it for me:But more importantly and aside from darker hair, I've been doing a few things lately to improve my feminine virtues. This is your warning: if you're uncomfortable with TMI (which, if you are, I have no idea why you're reading my blog in the first place - nothing is sacred here), then this is a good time to click away.

It all started around my 25th birthday, when I decided that I wanted to try something that I've never tried before: the Brazilian wax.

Let me back up by saying that for me, short & curlies - especially out of their natural habitat - are the most disgusting thing in the world. I once had a boyfriend pull out a clump of his own, place them in front of the passenger side heating vent before I got in the car, and then turn the air on full blast when I sat down. I was covered in them, and he had to pull over because I was dry heaving and gagging so badly. It's a wonder our relationship didn't last.

That being said, you'll understand my interest in going Brazilian. Lez recommended I go see Natasha (how's that for a stereotype), the waxer at her salon. I scheduled the appointment and then proceeded to suffer through the most uncomfortable and itchy ten days leading up to the appointment.

When the moment arrived, I laid down, closed my eyes, and sucked in my breath with each anticipated strip being torn from my body. I knew it was going to be painful, but honestly it was manageable. When it was all over, I sat up and breathed a sigh of relief. I had survived! I had conquered! I was relishing the moment when Natasha said the words that I will never forget:

Natasha: Ok, now turn over onto your belly so we can do your bum crack.

Blink. Blink.

Bone Junior: My whoody whaty?

Natasha: Your bum crack.

Blink. Blink.

Bone Junior: laughing nervously. Oh, um, well, I didn't know that was part of it...so, um, ok. I apologize in advance for what you're about to see.

So there I was, laying on my stomach with my face buried in the towel so she couldn't see me burning humiliation, and trying not to imagine what the view was like from her standpoint.

I didn't think it could get any worse until she instructed me to reach back with my hands and spread my butt cheeks apart, so as not to seal them together with the hot wax that she was spreading there.

I'm serious.

I tipped her very well because I felt so bad about the view she must've had. I didn't go back for another wax until after the new year, and since then, I'm hooked. It gets easier every time, although I never quite get over the embarrassment of rolling over and giving Natasha the old brown eye.

And I continue to tip her well.

In Pursuit of the Perfect Dress

When G told me that she was getting engaged, I told her that I'd only come to her wedding on one condition: that I get to wear turquoise. She's not having any bridesmaids, but I wanted to wear the traditional bridesmaid color anyway, complete with dyed-to-match pumps.

This weekend, I found my dress. It's not quite turquoise - it's more sea foam green, but it's close enough. I bought the dress and called G immediately to inform her of my fantastic find, and left her a message to tell her that I'd be waiting with baited breath and heaving bosom to hear from her.

This morning, G and I were chatting online and she wanted me to describe the dress. I have such an amazing way with words that after several paragraphs of descriptive terms, G still had no idea what the dress actually looked like. So I told her I'd draw her a color rendering, and draw it I did.

Please note: drawing specifications are exactly to scale, especially the bust and skin tone.All I have to do now is whittle my arms down to sticks, chop off my pinkies, get a boob job, and spend enough time in the sun so that I actually become black.

ESPN, Why You Want to Torment Me?

I was enjoying my Saturday afternoon, still glowing from the exhilaration of seeing Rambo on Friday night (and yes, it was as awesome and amazing as I'd hoped it would be. It was absolutely everything I want from an action film), relaxing on my bed and spending some quality time with Joaquin El Divo the Tivo; when I channel surfed to ESPN. I was about to continue flipping through, when the familiar green uniforms that I love more than life itself caught my eye, and I heard a narration that made my heart stop.

"The Philadelphia Eagles stepped from the shadows of three straight NFC Championship losses, and onto the biggest and brightest stage in sports: Superbowl 39. But to win their first world championship in more than four decades, the Eagles would have to defeat the defending world champion New England Patriots, who were accustomed to the scrutiny that comes with greatness."

ESPN was broadcasting a thirty-minute recap of Superbowl 39; or as I like to call it, The Day I Died a Little More Inside.

Sigh.

Everyone has painful moments that they will remember for the rest of their lives. Horrible, tragic moments. They remember what they were wearing, where they were, how they felt - like the day in seventh grade when Matt Deckman turned around in English class to tell me that my boyfriend Kyle didn't want to go out with me anymore; and also that my front was a flat as my back. Hypothetically.

My painful memory is the day the Eagles lost the Superbowl. Watching the ESPN recap, I felt exactly like I had that day in 2004, tears and all.

That's right - I literally cried when I watched this show. I felt the agony of their loss all over again, like pouring salt on my openly wounded heart.

"Down by seven points and with barely thirteen minutes remaining in Superbowl 39; the glow of Philadelphia's world championship dream was dimming...McNabb's third interception ended Philadelphia's hopes."

No! No! No! Not again!

"The Eagles' last ditch, valiant effort falls short, and yet as great a game as it was, and as much as you have to respect the Eagles, it still remains a painful, painful defeat."

Why, ESPN, WHY!

I clench my fist, hold it to my trembling mouth and whisper, "Whhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy..."

Another Reason Why I Love My Job

Because all it took was a little pouty lip and puppy dog eyes from me to convince the guys to let me pick the color of paint for the job trailer bathroom.

I work with great guys. They're very tolerant of the fact that I giggle every time I hear the word "nipple" (as in, 'We need a 50-foot air hose with a 3/4" nipple'); they're more than willing to hook up their big trucks and tow my car when my fuel pump dies (as in a month ago when that happened); and they're good sports about my continual clumsiness (as in when I slipped and fell down a huge hole). But I don't think they realized what they were signing up for when they agreed to let me pick the bathroom paint color.

So now we have a job trailer on site, painted very sensible, manly colors of tan and beige; but when you open the bathroom door, you are greeted by the following palate of joy:

It's called Lovely Lily. And the guys hate me.

In Preparation for the 2008 Oscar Pickett Sign Cake

So my first official date of 2008 was great! And yes I was trying to rhyme just then.

About the guy... he's 27, he's an engineer (manufacturing, not the train kind; although I secretly wish it was the train kind because then maybe he could take me on cool dates where we go on a train through the country side and I get to ride around in the front of the train and lean out the little window with my arm outstretched like Evita, singing about how I'm going to make something of myself, wearing one of those cute striped hats and occasionally shoveling coal so that when I get off, I have a cute black smudge across my nose and one on my cheek which he tries to wipe away but instead smudges it more because his hands are all sooty so we just laugh about how cute the whole thing is) he's in the National Guard, he has a motorcycle, he's from Washington state, um....what else....oh yeah, he hates Mustangs.

Despite that minor character flaw, he's got a great sense of humor and he's cute to boot. We had a great time at the hockey game - I decided to cheer for the visiting team because I liked their uniform colors better, so we were somewhat ostracized from the crowd. We talked really easily and had a lot of fun. And there was the typical awkward hug at the end. Sigh. But there was also talk of him wanting to come see Rambo with me on Friday night, so we'll see what happens.

In other news, this is the time of year I'm usually gearing up for the Oscars - planning the party, making the ballots, getting the prizes ready, and most importantly, preparing for the traditional Oscar cake. But with no foreseeable end to the writer's strike in sight, the Oscars could turn out to be as boring as the Golden Globes. Which means that my traditional Oscar cake will instead be a picket-sign cake. I'll do it, too.

However, I'm determined to carry out the ballot contest, prizes and all. Here's how it works: all you have to do is make your predictions and email them to me by Saturday February 23rd - the day before the Oscars are set to air. Send your predictions to juneyuh@gmail.com. There will be a totally awesome prize for the person with the most correct, and a totally awesome prize for the person with the least correct. But anyone who votes for anything associated with Keira Knightley is automatically disqualified. Just kidding.

And the nominees are....oh, and for those of you who are anything like Bone Senior and think that Eva Longoria and Eva Mendes are the same person, there are handy dandy links that should help with some of the things you may not be familiar with.

1. Best Picture:

Atonement

Juno

Michael Clayton

No Country for Old Men

There Will Be Blood.

2. Actor:

George Clooney, "Michael Clayton"

Daniel Day-Lewis, "There Will Be Blood"

Johnny Depp, "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street"

Tommy Lee Jones, "In the Valley of Elah"

Viggo Mortensen, "Eastern Promises."

3. Actress:

Cate Blanchett, "Elizabeth: The Golden Age"

Julie Christie, "Away From Her"

Marion Cotillard, "La Vie en Rose"

Laura Linney, "The Savages"

Ellen Page, "Juno."

4. Supporting Actor:

Casey Affleck, "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"

Javier Bardem, "No Country for Old Men"

Hal Holbrook, "Into the Wild"

Philip Seymour Hoffman, "Charlie Wilson's War"

Tom Wilkinson, "Michael Clayton."

5. Supporting Actress:

Cate Blanchett, "I'm Not There"

Ruby Dee, "American Gangster"

Saoirse Ronan, "Atonement"

Amy Ryan, "Gone Baby Gone"

Tilda Swinton, "Michael Clayton."

6. Director:

Julian Schnabel, "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly"

Jason Reitman, "Juno"

Tony Gilroy, "Michael Clayton"

Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, "No Country for Old Men"

Paul Thomas Anderson, "There Will Be Blood."

7. Foreign Film:

"Beaufort," Israel

"The Counterfeiters," Austria

"Katyn," Poland

"Mongol," Kazakhstan

"12," Russia.

8. Adapted Screenplay:

Christopher Hampton, "Atonement"

Sarah Polley, "Away from Her"

Ronald Harwood, "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly"

Joel Coen & Ethan Coen, "No Country for Old Men"

Paul Thomas Anderson, "There Will Be Blood."

9. Original Screenplay:

Diablo Cody, "Juno"

Nancy Oliver, "Lars and the Real Girl"

Tony Gilroy, "Michael Clayton"

Brad Bird, Jan Pinkava and Jim Capobianco, "Ratatouille"

Tamara Jenkins, "The Savages."

10. Animated Feature Film:

"Persepolis"

"Ratatouille"

"Surf's Up."

11. Art Direction:

"American Gangster,"

"Atonement,"

"The Golden Compass,"

"Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street,"

"There Will Be Blood."

12. Cinematography:

"The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford,"

"Atonement,"

"The Diving Bell and the Butterfly,"

"No Country for Old Men,"

"There Will Be Blood."

13. Sound Mixing:

"The Bourne Ultimatum,"

"No Country for Old Men,"

"Ratatouille,"

"3:10 to Yuma,"

"Transformers."

14. Sound Editing:

"The Bourne Ultimatum,"

"No Country for Old Men,"

"Ratatouille,"

"There Will Be Blood,"

"Transformers."

15. Original Score:

"Atonement," Dario Marianelli;

"The Kite Runner," Alberto Iglesias;

"Michael Clayton," James Newton Howard;

"Ratatouille," Michael Giacchino;

"3:10 to Yuma," Marco Beltrami.

16. Original Song:

"Falling Slowly" from "Once," Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova;

"Happy Working Song" from "Enchanted," Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz;

"Raise It Up" from "August Rush," Nominees to be determined;

"So Close" from "Enchanted," Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz;

"That's How You Know" from "Enchanted," Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz.

17. Costume:

"Across the Universe,"

"Atonement,"

"Elizabeth: The Golden Age,"

"La Vie en Rose,"

"Sweeney Todd the Demon Barber of Fleet Street."

18. Documentary Feature:

"No End in Sight,"

"Operation Homecoming: Writing the Wartime Experience,"

"Sicko,"

"Taxi to the Dark Side,"

"War/Dance."

19. Documentary (short subject):

"Freeheld,"

"La Corona (The Crown),"

"Salim Baba,"

"Sari's Mother."

20. Film Editing:

"The Bourne Ultimatum,"

"The Diving Bell and the Butterfly,"

"Into the Wild,"

"No Country for Old Men,"

"There Will Be Blood."

21. Makeup:

"La Vie en Rose,"

"Norbit,"

"Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End."

22. Animated Short Film:

"I Met the Walrus,"

"Madame Tutli-Putli,"

"Meme Les Pigeons Vont au Paradis (Even Pigeons Go to Heaven),"

"My Love (Moya Lyubov),"

"Peter & the Wolf."

23. Live Action Short Film:

"At Night,"

"Il Supplente (The Substitute),"

"Le Mozart des Pickpockets (The Mozart of Pickpockets),"

"Tanghi Argentini,"

"The Tonto Woman."

24. Visual Effects:

"The Golden Compass,"

"Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End,"

"Transformers."

2008 Resolution #1: Date

Yes, just date. More specifically, be open to dating guys who aren't huge bald guys with biceps as big as my head. (I've been told I have a "type".)

Status: Off to a good start, as I've been asked out for tonight.

That's right, folks; close your jaws and blink once or twice. Someone asked me out. And by "someone", I mean a guy who lives in my neighborhood and has a motorcycle.

It has all the familiar markings of a date: he called & asked in advance, he has a plan, has set the time, and is picking me up. It's a date, right?

We're going to a hockey game. I tried to warn him that I can get a little out of hand at sporting events - case in point, see photo below.

A fun time should be had by all.

Suddenly Things Are Looking Up

It is eight degrees this morning. Eight. And windy, which makes for extra fun after putting on lip gloss and venturing out to the parking lot. You ladies know what I'm talking about.

While today is the coldest it's been all winter, I haven't really wanted to get out of bed for the past few days. Last night, I hit the height of my lethargy when I was in bed, surrounded by no less than six pillows, eating honey roasted peanuts by sticking my tongue into the jar and fishing around until a few peanuts stuck, watching American Idol tryouts from Philadelphia. It was the epitomy of high class and sophistication, if you can picture it.

I was getting bored and super-fast-forwarding through the commercials when something caught my eye and I bolted upright, sending my jar of peanuts flying. Did I just see what I thought I saw? Can it be? I rewound and watched the commercial that had grabbed my attention.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I watched it again.

How did I not know about this!?! How has this slipped past my radar?!?

I put Joaquin El Divo the Tivo on pause and ran, literally RAN, screaming down the stairs to Yanaj's room. She heard me coming from two stories above and didn't hesitate when I screamed at her that she HADTOCOMEUPSTAIRSRIGHTNOWRIGHTTHISSECOND!

We ran back up to my room and I had to catch my breath before unveiling to Yanaj the wonderment and magic that had brought me so much joy.

Feast your eyes upon this.

I know. I can hardly believe it either. At least now I have plans for Valentine's Day.

2008 is Boring So Far

As evidenced by my severe lack of posting, not much has been going on with me. I think it has to do with quitting soda (14 days clean, can I get a whoop whoop). By giving up Diet Pepsi Max, I also gave up my motivation to write. Sigh.

So how about the sham that was the Golden Globes? Apparently I'm the only one in my office who cares at all, so I'm going to rant about it here.

The Golden Globes are usually the third biggest night of the year for me, preceded by the Oscars and the Superbowl. But this year, the Globes are the fifth biggest night of the year for me, preceded by the Oscars, The Dark Knight (June), Rambo (Jan 25), and then the Superbowl.

I look forward to the Globes because they have been shown to be the best predictor of the Oscars; thus the key to my annual winning of the Oscar predictions at my annual Oscar party with my annual Oscar cake. But with the way the writer's strike is going, chances are looking slim that there will be any Oscars ceremony this year.

Watching the faux-Globes last night was less than mediocre. First, I hate Billy Bush and his stupid entertainment reporting. Second, I think most of the winners sucked. Ok, mainly just Atonement, which won for Best Picture. And I haven't even seen Atonement, I just hate Kiera Knightly. A lot. I hate her so much that disirregardless of how much Oscar buzz the film is getting, I won't see it. I can't stop staring at that stupid face she makes with her stupid pouty lips.

And Sweeney Todd beat out Hairspray, Juno, and Across the Universe - three films that I love love LOVED. Sweeney Todd was OK; entertaining at best - I liked the spurting, squirting blood, but overall, I'm not a huge fan. I loved Hairspray so much that I gave Elizabeth a calendar of our favorite piece of jail bait:
I'm not ashamed to say it - I do love me some Zac Efron.

Speaking unabashadly of guilty pleasures, is anyone else super excited to see Rambo? No? Just me? Really? Ok. Peep your eyes on this and maybe you'll understand where I'm coming from:

That's right, beeyatches, I made that. I made that. You can make one too!!! Go to this link.

My point is that you know where I'll be on Friday January 25th. And I'm thrilled to finally have an occasion besides Christmas morning to wear my "I Heart John Rambo" t-shirt.

Holla Dayz

One of my goals for the week is to do a 2007 Movies Year In Review. This is not that post.

Speaking of goals, 2007 was an interesting year. I plan on doing an entire post about the goals I'd made for 2007 and their result; however, this is not that post either. Stay tuned though, you have lots to look forward to.

This post is about my holiday season. My final Feliz Navidad countdown was only sixteen this year! I think it's because I switched holiday music stations from last year.

My holla dayz started with a bang when I participated in an ugly Christmas sweater contest at work. Can you believe I didn't win? I mean, that sweater had dimension to it.

Soon after, I presented my fellow Elvis lover, Elizabeth, with an Elvis Christmas stocking stuffed with none other than her very own velvet Elvis.

Attempt #1: My Elvis looks like a Jew. Attempt #2: Her Elvis looks like a Gelfling. Attempt #3: Perfection.

Attempt #4: Perfection times two.

I carried the holla day cheer 2,000 miles east to Philadelphia, where I spent eight days wearing my sweat pants and eating Buckeyes. My first morning there started with a breakfast of Diet Pepsi Max and a Tastykake Tasty Klair Pie, aka, sweet nectar from heaven.

I spent the rest of the morning with this little guy:

...taking ghetto fabulous pictures like this:

...and making videos like this:

I also bestowed upon my nephew the most awesome Christmas gift,

which as you can clearly see, he clearly loved.

Which pretty much brings us to New Years Eve. I partied like a rockstar. Ok, not really. But Elizabeth and I decided to kick off the celebration with our traditional picture:

Followed by a cream-puff-stuffing contest.

I won.

Followed by traditional midnight festivities...

And I said goodbye to a dear, dear old friend. Diet Pepsi Max (and all other sodas), R.I.P. You will be missed.

I'm determined to win the bet of quitting soda cold turkey. For every day my co-worker Dean and I go without soda, a dollar accumulates into a pot. Whoever buckles first pays the other person.

Days clean: 2

Headaches: many

Ounces of water drank today: 96

Happy Bone Juniors: zero.