February and Valentine's Day Weekend.

I’m still very-much enjoying work. My study materials for series 7 and 63 arrived this past week, so that was exciting. Even more exciting? The fact that I didn’t have to work on Monday, in celebration of President’s Day! I’ve never (in my life) had President’s Day off. Ah, the joys of working the NYSE’s schedule. Back to series 7 and 63. First stop: take and pass series 7, then worry about the 63. I’ve read Chapter 1 thus far. It was all acronyms. The only interesting part to me was the history of the crash of ’29 and the election of FDR and the creation of the SEC. All the other stuff? Blech. Literally acronym after acronym after acronym. And all those acronyms, p.s.? Even knowing what they stand for I still have no clue what I’m reading. Bless my ignorant heart. I’m looking at it as though I’m learning a foreign language. And I am, in a sense. I’m learning how to speak Finance. So yay for rules and regulations! Romance languages shmomance languages. Who needs ‘em? Money—along with music, of course—is the universal language. Money talks. I’ll have to make note cards with vocab like I did back in the day when I was learning Spanish and French. Nothing satisfies me more than going through an entire stack of note cards, never having to turn any of them over because I already know what’s written on the other side. Bring it on, FINRA! I’m also adoring getting off work so early every day. It makes the bitterness of getting out of bed every morning at six a.m. worth it. My body’s adjusting. I’m tired by 10:30 every night. It’s a miracle.

The weather has been delightful of late: in the seventies (it’s actually raining right now, which is kind of sad, because we’re supposed to have a ward bbq at a local park at 3:00 this afternoon). It’s bittersweet enjoying such delightful temperatures, though, because that means soon summer’s misery will be upon us. I’m soaking up the gloriousness now while it’s with us, and getting lots of walks in with Angel before the pavement is too hot for her adorable, perfect little black feet. My friend Lianna and I have been walking a lot together. It’s awesome having a friend who lives down the street. She even popped by one night because her internet wasn’t working and she had to send out an email (thank goodness my house was spotless). We try to go walking three times a week, and our walks last about an hour. Again, we’re enjoying it while this weather lasts. Once it’s too hot, I’ll use the gym at my office since it’s free. It’s a nice little gym, too, and every time I randomly open the door to it, it’s empty. That’s good. I’ll be able to choose which channel to watch on the TV without making anybody upset it’s not a sports station (HGTV is my one and only love!).

This past weekend was Valentine’s Day. I’m not a sentimental person (save when I drive by the house I grew up in, and then I get misty eyed every time. I had the best upbringing and that home has so many happy memories for me), so I figured it wouldn’t be a difficult weekend for me, even given the fact that I’m going through this—how do I put it so it doesn’t sound so depressing?—“period of transition.” And, you know what? I had an AWESOME weekend. And, for the record, Valentine’s Day has never been anything special in my book. It’s a Hallmark holiday. To quote Jason, “Real men make every day Valentine’s Day for their wives.” Yes, my sister married well, because her husband really does let her know each and every day how amazing she is and how much he loves her. He wanted an eight cow wife, and by gum that’s what he got. (Haha, for those of you who have never seen Johnny Lingo--one of my all-time favorites!--you're missing out. "Eight cow wife" is a direct reference to that 1969 movie. It's worth watching all 25 minutes of it. You won't be disappointed, I promise! By the way, Mom, those aren't pictures, they're video clips. So click on the play symbol to watch them. I love you Mama!!!)

Every woman deserves to be married to a Johnny Lingo.

So, back to Valentine’s weekend. We’ll start with Thursday, even though that’s not the weekend, unless you’re living in Mexico, in which case the weekend begins on Wednesday night and goes through Sunday night. Thursday night Mom and I supported Jason and went to Art Walk for Dave Newman’s show. The gallery looked amazing, of course, and Jason hired a live band (they’re actually really talented). We had fun.

Mom wants Dave's sculpture for her entryway.

The best thing about Mexico: its CocaCola. Elaine bought imported Mexican Coke from Costco for the event. Too bad it was a work night, so I couldn't indulge (otherwise, I would have been up all night, dang that caffeine). What makes it so amazing? It's made with cane sugar, not corn syrup.

Dave Newman (the showcase artist of the evening), me, and Jason (the gallery owner/my sister's husband)

Me with the band. The guy in the white t-shirt lives in one of the amazing condos above the gallery spaces on Main Street in Old Town.

Then, as per Friday’s custom, I got off work at 2 p.m., came home, took Angel on a nice long walk (didn’t need to change, because Friday’s casual day—I love my job), and then I met up with Lori and she and I went out to dinner and then we saw “Valentine’s Day” together (she got a babysitter for Heather). It was cute, forgettable, but cute (save your money, watch it on Netflix when it’s out). Lori, by the way, is my oldest friend. Not age-wise oldest, but I mean I’ve been friends with her longer than anybody. She’s been there for me since my original birthday: she was babysitting my brother and sister the night I was born. She’s been with me through all the thick and all the thin, the thick throwing me the most amazing bridal shower ever in her gorgeous home, and the thin most recently literally standing by me at the bank the day I signed my divorce papers on Christmas Eve day. She and Heather were making Christmas sugar cookies, and Lori dropped EVERYTHING to come to my rescue to be my shoulder to lean on as I faced you-know-who the last time I ever saw /will ever see him. She’s WONDERFUL and I love her to pieces. We had a blast together Friday night.

Then, on Saturday, Mom surprised me with the best Valentine’s Day gift ever: a girls’ day out to the Symphony Hall to watch Ballet Arizona’s production of Tchaikovsky’s The Sleeping Beauty. So she, Lori, Sandy and I all did a Girls’ Day Out. I absolutely adore ballet, which, I know, I’ve already written about in the past. It’s the most gorgeous, romantic, beautiful expression of talent in the world. THANK YOU MOM for treating me to such a lovely experience. (The best thing about my parents treating me to events? Their seats. They ALWAYS have the best seats in the house. I’m so spoiled by their generosity and impeccable taste in entertainment. Although it’s kind of ruined me for those times when I’m the one buying myself a ticket all the way up in the balcony levels where I can afford it. It’s just not the same experience when you can’t make out the minutest of facial expressions.)

The ladies: Lori, Mom, Me, Sandy

After Sleeping Beauty, I didn’t get to join the girls for dinner because I had to rush to JC Penny (all the way out to PV from Downtown) to get my hair done. I know, Whitney got her done at JC Penny of all places?! I’ll explain. The last time I got my hair done at Salon Estique I spent $160 for high-lights and a cut. I’m just sick and tired of spending that much money to get my hair done. The girl at Salon Estique (a new girl whom I’d never before used, because my girl quit and is now doing hair in Cave Creek, and I’m too lazy to drive out there for her) spent like ten minutes trimming my hair, and charged me $65 for it (my gal who moved never charged me for 10-minute trims). And I hated how she high-lighted me (white-blonde high-lights, gross), so I had to go back in and have her add tons of low-lights two days later, even though I immediately told her when she took the initial foils out at my initial visit that she’d have to re-do it because I like natural-looking blonde, not Pamela Lee Anderson blonde. All the processing wreaked havoc on my hair, which I’m trying desperately to grow out, so I was just 100% disappointed in the entire $160 experience.

Enter Lianna, my walking buddy/neighbor/dinner club girlfriend. She has amazing hair (likely helped by the fact that it’s massively thick and naturally curly). So I randomly told her at Church a few Sundays back how amazing her hair always looks, and she told me “thanks, I get it done at JC Penny at PV Mall.” I was in shock, because her color looks really really beautiful. I went to Ulta to get my hair done once, and it was a huge mistake, and I always thought JC Penny was a few notches below Ulta. Well, it’s obviously all in the stylist, not the salon. Because per Lianna’s suggestion, I went to her hair girl, Kristi Whitehead at Paradise Valley Mall’s JC Penny, and wow! She gave me a full ten minute scalp massage (no joke, a solid ten minutes). Even if my hair had turned out orange, I would have gone back to visit Kristi just for her scalp massage. I had her dye my hair all over with a semi-permanent level 8 blonde to match my natural color, because I have to get my hair back to healthy fighting form since stupid Salon Estique over-processed it last visit. I’m really happy with Kristi’s color and cut. I now have NO LAYERS. It’s official: my bob has finally grown all the way out in the back. I’m getting there. Slowly but surely. It’s quite the process growing out a super-stacked bob. Now the good news is I can actually acquire length since I no longer have any layers that need to be cut off in the back. Hallelujah. One year from now my hair will be considered long. The best part about JC Penny? I got 20% off my first service, so INCLUDING a 20% tip, my CUT, COLOR, SCALP MASSAGE, and STYLE were only $85. Absurd. And I couldn’t be happier with the results. I’ll definitely be back at JC Penny for my next trim. When you consider that you can get a shampoo with scalp massage, haircut and style for $25, their services are cheaper than Great Clips. It’s a no-brainer if you get a great stylist like Kristi. If you go to her, tell her I referred you, and I’ll get $5 off my next service, and you’ll get 20% off your first.

So that was Saturday. On Sunday (February 14), I had church, followed by ward choir, came home and took Angel on her walk, ate lunch, took a nap (which I normally can’t do on a Sunday, because then I can’t fall sleep that night for work on Monday morning, but it wasn’t an issue this past Sunday, what with having President’s Day off), then had stake choir. I showed up and our stake choir director (who also happens to be my visiting teacher!) made us sugar cookies to decorate. So cute, so yummy. With all the Easter hymns I sang with both my choirs, I was in the best mood all day. It’s amazing how much music can lift our spirits.

My visiting teacher/stake choir director, Melanie Garcia: pregnant with baby number three!

Finally, Monday was my day off. So I cleaned my house (since I didn’t have time to do it on Saturday), and then I went out to dinner with my friend John, his girlfriend Karla, and his mom, Cathy. Cathy is the director of the gallery next to Xanadu, and her son, John, is a first lieutenant in the Air Force and will be in Iraq for the next year, so this was his last visit in Arizona before he leaves. After seeing “Dear John” with my mom on Wednesday night, I’m inspired to send John (haha, “Dear John”) packages while he’s in Iraq serving our country. Dear John, by the way, was a lame movie. My mom and I both thought the plot was ridiculous and unbelievable. *yawn* Anyhow, I also got to hang out with John on Thursday after work, so I am super lucky that with only one week in Arizona I got to be with such a VIP for two nights. God Bless our Troops. He’ll have training for one month in New Jersey before he deploys to Baghdad, then he’ll be living for one year as though he were a good, single LDS man (he’s not Mormon)—celibate and sober. I didn’t know officers and soldiers aren’t allowed to have sex or drink when they’re deployed. They’re also not allowed to view pornography of any kind. God Bless our Troops! You learn something new every day.

On the note of sending packages to our fellow Americans who are literally putting their lives on the line every single day . . . Matt (my ATC buddy out at Deer Valley) told me about this amazing website, http://www.anysoldier.com/HowToSend.cfm, where you can learn any and everything about sending care packages to our deployed servicemen and women. If you don’t have anybody to whom to send something, the website will provide you with names and addresses of soldiers. Check it out!

So that was my Valentine’s Day weekend. I was so busy having fun, I didn’t get a chance to feel blue at all. Again, I’m extraordinarily blessed to be so busy with friends, family and my new job. I couldn’t ask for a better situation going through what I’m going through. It’s much easier this time around, I mean, moving on with my life. Likely because Mr. No Name first told me he wanted to leave me less than one month into our marriage, so even though we were married six months before we moved back to the US and he drew up the papers, I had lots of time to prepare for it. It makes complete sense that a one-month marriage (in all seriousness, that’s what I’m considering the duration to be) would be a lot easier to get over than a three-year marriage, which is how long my first colossal error in judgment lasted.

Moving on . . .

Yesterday I got a surprise call at work that my sweet dad was giving up his ticket to see Mary Poppins at Gammage so that I could go with Mom, Carrie and Mikell. I was so giddy, because I really really really wanted to see it. My parents have always had season’s tickets to Gammage, and because they’re such huge donors to Grady Gammage, and because they’ve been season’s tickets holders for the past thirty-plus years, they have ninth-row center seats (four of them), VIP parking, and VIP lounge access (free drinks and goodies before the show and during intermission). To top it all off, a huge picture of them is at the auditorium and they go to New York City every year with a bunch of the other Gammage muckety-mucks to meet and dine with all the actors and to see all their plays on Broadway.

Anyhow, it’s divine when I get to go with my parents to Gammage, but I rarely am blessed with the opportunity because they have FOUR tickets, two for them, and two for guests. Because I’m perpetually single, my parents always opt to take Carrie and Jason for the other two tickets, or, when it’s a show like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, they take Parker and Mikell. My mom has always held that I can only have the other two tickets if I asked a guy to go with me. So awkward (especially when you’re not dating anybody at all, but you REALLY want to see a show, so you randomly ask out a guy and then your first date with him is a double date with your parents to a $120/ticket show. Can I just say I don’t miss those days at all.). Well, given my current situation, I am obviously unable to ask anybody out (my divorce should be final ANY DAY NOW, hallelujah, I’m beyond ready to have my maiden name restored), and regardless, my mom chose Carrie and Mikell for Mary Poppins because it was Carrie’s favorite Disney movie growing up, and so it was really special for Carrie to see it with Mom and her oldest daughter, Mikell. So THANK YOU Dad for sacrificing your evening for me to accompany Mom, Carrie and Mikell to the most wonderful play ever. I honestly got teary-eyed multiple times during the performance, because it was so wholesome, so wonderfully executed, so magical (I’ve concluded that I only ever get teary-eyed when something reminds me of my childhood, and in every case they’re good, nostalgic, happy tears). I would go see it again in a heartbeat. It was that good.

Four of the five cutest kids on the planet! (Tate, of course, is among the five cutest ever, but wasn't with us.) Carrie's kids: Maddy (2), Mikell (turning double digits this March 5, wow!), Maren (4), and Parker (7). Before Mom, Carrie, Mikell and I went to Gammage, we stopped by the PV Stake Center to support the Young Women by buying their spaghetti dinner to raise money for Girls' Camp. How cute, p.s., is that poster? Carrie and I were in awe of it and the talent of the gal who made it.

Mikell and I got cotton candy (our favorite!) for $1 each. Hey, just doing our part to support the Mountain View Ward Girls' Camp.

Carrie, Mom, Me. In the hall waiting to get our Spaghetti dinner.

LOVED IT! The special effects were incredible, the set amazing, the acting and singing perfect, the music spot on, it was wonderful. Go buy tickets now! You don't want to miss it. http://www.asugammage.com/shows

I’m trying to convince my parents into buying a fifth ticket so that no matter what, I can go to every show with them. Guess what Mom’s response was? “Well, that wouldn’t make any sense. How could you then bring a date? ” Ever the optimist, thinking I’ll be dating again. And here I was thinking it’d be best if I were always the odd-one-out, so as to avoid those HORRID moments of calling guys and asking them to double with me and my parents so I can go see a play. The most awkward is when it happens to be a show like A Chorus Line, with songs such as T and A (don’t get me wrong, the wicked girl inside me adores that naughty song, but not on a first date with some random guy I randomly picked out so that I could go to the theatre to see a play per my mother’s requirement that I only attend if I’m with a potential suitor).

Today I have my ward BBQ at 3 p.m., if it’s not canceled on account of the rain. It’s very refreshing not only being in a family ward, but being a family ward which actually has families (poor Mexico, deficient in so many areas). Every day, literally, every single day, I give thanks to Heavenly Father that I’m once again living in the United States of America. Like random things make me say a quick prayer of thanks just to express my gratitude for being an American citizen. Yesterday, for example, I was so thankful for clean public restrooms. And when anybody complains about traffic in Phoenix, I just pipe in “this is NOTHING! You should see Mazatlan, with zero infrastructure, then we can talk about traffic.” And every time I get to see my friends, or spend time with my family, I give thanks. I got to mail in my ballot this week, and wear my “I voted early sticker,” and I gave thanks. I hope that doesn’t wear off, the gratitude for living in this blessed land. I always feel this way after living abroad, but unfortunately it wears off with time. I take it for granted, and I hate that I do that. I mean, I know our country’s not perfect (I’m obsessed with current events and politics, so believe me you, I have many views and opinions on how our country desperately needs to improve), but while I know there’s a lot of cleaning up that needs to be done both locally and nationally, I can honestly say there’s no place like home, and no country in the world as blessed as ours. I revere our Founding Fathers, and the American spirit, and capitalism, and all the freedoms we enjoy. God Bless the USA: keep her safe, free, and strong.

Doing my part.

It's good to be home. This is my gorgeous view of Camelback Mountain.

Brooktynn's husband, Ryan, is graduating with his MBA at ASU this semester. They had to do a branding presentation on AJ's Fine Foods, so he interviewed me as part of his project. In thanks for my time, AJ's put together this AMAZING gift basket (complete with a gift card to their store), which Brooktynn and Ryan then delivered to my home.

Here we are! Me, basket, and Ryan. Thank you Ryan and Brooktynn for thinking to include me in the project! I didn't even know I'd be scoring an awesome gift basket. Bonus!!

The first face I see every morning, and the reason why I wake up each and every day in such a good mood. How could you not with this cute little eight pound darling snuggling with you?