The Magic Cabin

We had another party over the weekend at my in-laws magic cabin.

The magic cabin is not unlike the magic school bus in that it whisks you back in time to a place far far away and long long ago. Usually while you're playing badminton.


Your destination is like 100 years ago, and as you travel back and back and back, your stress and anxiety melts away like buttah.
















You're less anxious already, ain't ya?

Told ya so.


Lookie, even Lulu chillaxes at the magic cabin.



The best best bestest part of the magic cabin is the French toast. Even the French couldn't make better French toast.



But anywayz, I'm off to girlz camp!

TTFN

So anyways, I'm off to girlz camp.

I'm sure there will be wireless, but just in case, thought I'd let you know I've been up to my elbows in elbow grease. In other words, I've been rolling up my sleeves to meet the needs of everyone I've ever loved before.

This entails a whole lotta cookie salad.

I can't tell you how many gallons of cool whip I've purchased to fill the physical and emotional voids in my friends and family members. (You wouldn't believe how many hungry hearts there are out here in the real world.)

So my hub says to me tonight, "You really need to get more organized so you're only going grocery shopping once a week, like you did in Hawaii."

So I says back to him, "You are sooo right, as usual (wink wink). Can you show me how to do it, pleaze, pleaze, pretty paleaze!?"

He's now in charge of the menu planning, shopping, and food preparation for our Lake Powell trip next week.

(Insert evil mad scientist laugh here.)

Thing is, and Martha can testify, I didn't even feed my kids in Hawaii, let alone all my friends and family. In Hawaii I did nothing but blog my brains out.

True story!

But on with the post! I only have time for snippets so let me pick up where I left off, which was, I believe, preparing for a party for some peeps from our old hood.

The party was a success.

Mostly because my niece just so happened to be at our house with her new airbrush tattoo art business and everyone reaped the rewards.


Especially my boys, who thought they were so cute and cool and clever. Until the next day at basketball camp when they had to play skins.

Allow me to show you photographic evidence of my hub talking on the phone to our ex-door neighbor Martha during the party?

If there's one thing Martha hates, it's missing a party, and if there's one thing we lub, it's making her feel like she's missing a party.

Two of my daughter's best friends from Hawaii were also in attendance at the party.

This is Tum. Not my Tum, the other Tum. She and my Tum have been BFF's since they were two years old.

This photo was taken at a pool party in Park City, where I also captured this important message from the Universe:

Does anyone else think the Universe is an oxyMORON?

I also received another important message from the ice-cream lady who was taking our shake orders at Granny's in Heber. When my son asked her to mix Brownie Bits and Butterscotch, she scrunched up her nose and said, "EWWW!"

I know she was just the messenger, but does anyone ever get the urge to tell the messenger to BUTT OUT!?

Adults are just teenagers who look old

This is what I call a Tum-ism.

Tum is my daughter's nickname. To her childhood friends she's been Tum as long as I can remember.

Tum is also her best friend's nickname, (who just so happens to be here visiting right now. Woo hoo!) Don't ask me why they have the same nickname, but I could bottle the two of them up and call them Tums.

(ba dum bum)

Both Tums say the darndest things. But my Tum is especially full of it.

And by it I mean wit and wisdom. (btw, she's trying to earn $$ so she's charging me $5 every time I tell a story about her on my blog. Notice I haven't mentioned her for a while, but this story is too good to pass on.)

Even when my Tum is steaming mad, she makes me laugh out loud. A few days ago she was ticked off at me because I spoiled a surprise she was planning by confiding it to an adult, who didn't keep it on the down-low. When the cat got out of the bag I had to apologize profusely, up and down, over and over, with my tail between my legs.

"She's an adult!" I told my daughter. I didn't think she would spill the beans!"

"Are you kidding me???" My daughter cried. And then she said something so profound that I swear I heard Confusius giggling in his grave. She said, "Of course she would tell! Adults are just teenagers who look old!"

(Allow me a moment . . . )

(hee hee ho ho ha ha hee hee ha ha ha ha ha ha ho ho hee hee hee)

(K, I'm back.)

Is that the funniest thing you've ever heard?

I thought so too. Until she said she learned it from me.

Okay, peeps. I haven't had a single second to put into action all the things I learned from the blogging conference. I even arose at 3:00 a.m. to do my duties and obligations, but still have had no time to hone my craft.

Maybe you can help me out. All the serious bloggers told us casual bloggers that in order to be successful we need to have a strong brand. Branding is critical, so they say.

I rose my hand and said, "Oooh, ooh, ooh, I dibs Mt. Dew! That's a way strong brand."

They shook their heads and told me I have to have my own brand--something original that sets me apart.

So what would you think if I changed my blog name/brand to Seriously, So Stressed.

Seriously, So Tired would be more accurate, but it doesn't have the same ring to it.

Or maybe I should run with the whole Lulu thing and call it The Blog Dog, or dogspot.com. Or seriouslysostressed.dogspot.com.

What say you?

The serious bloggers also told us casual bloggers that Google search engine keywords are critical to our numbers. Did you know that?

Neither did I.

How many people do you think use the search word "dummy" every day?

Exactly.

So I've decided to change my title to The Crash Test Twilight Diaries.

Please, please, please don't steal my idea before I get a chance to replace the red dummy on my header with a photo of Edward.

Well, I gotsta go wipe the bird droppings off my patio furniture again and make another cookie salad for another BBQ for another batch of dear Hawaii friends.

But first I need to respond to Iwa from A Wise Man Once Said . . . (that adults are just teenagers who look old--hee hee hee hee hee).

Just messin' with you, peeps!

Iwa from A Wise Man Once Said was wondering if cookie salad is as Utarded as green jello. Can anyone answer that for me? I have no idea. Shot in the dark? YES! YES, cookie salad is the modern Molly Mormon dessert salad of choice.

But what do I know? I'm not a Molly Mormon. I just pretend to be.

If I recall correctly, Iwa used the adjective "nasty" when referring to the cookie salad concept. I've heard that adjective in conjunction with dried seaweed and SPAM, and Tim Tam SPAM slams, but never in conjunction with cookies or salad. She thinks the whole idea is oxymoronic, but actually it's oxymormonic.

Get it? Mormonic? (hee hee)

Coincidentally, I found the recipe while organizing my room at 3:00 a.m. this morning. Do you mind if I share? For Iwa's sake.

Two boxes vanilla pudding

Two and a half cups of buttermilk.

12 oz of cool whip (a little more if you're "nasty")

pineapple tidbits

two cans of mandarin oranges

strawberries

(grapes and apples if you're really "nasty")

crunched up fudge stripe cookies.

(CAUTION: Do NOT deviate. Never replace the fudge striped cookies with no-name dollar store cookies, elsewise your MIL will refuse your offer to take the leftovers home.)

Okay, I'm not editing. I'm posting this as is! That's how seriously, so stressed I am.

Okay, I'm not that stressed. I just went back and edited.

i. am. so. darn. pooped.

I guess that's what happens when you pArTaY for four days straight.

Casual Bloggers Conference aside, I've been up to my eyeballs in dinner engagements and graduation celebrations and BBQ's and famdamily overnighters! If there was a cookie salad or a pan of baked beans within a mile radius, I was there.

And you know what else? When there is one dear friend from Hawaii in town, there are a dozen dear friends from Hawaii in town. And a dozen more coming.

But one story at a time. Today I need to finish bragging about the Casual Blogger Conference.


I will start by publicly declaring that blogging my brains out has been the best thing I've ever done with my brains!


You all know that blogging is a waste of time, and it interferes with/replaces human interaction, right?

WRONG! Come here and let me poke you in the eye for nodding your head.

Blogging actually makes you feel plugged in. It connects you to people in up-close and personal ways. And it actually heightens the real-life experience when you finally meet and greet.

It was just plain amazing to spend the weekend with people I know and lub, even though I've never met them, and people who know and lub me even though they've never met me--people who squeal when they see me, and hug me and bring me chocolates.

Or people who don't squeal, but quietly say, out of nowhere, "I just want to tell you that I read your blog all the time and I am so excited to meet you."

That's what happened when I met Shanna.

Do you guys know Shanna?

She's the one on the left, standing next to the centerfold, Annie Valentine--who is rockin' her super model sunglasses.

Our meeting has a mysterious twist: Shanna's blog identity is Just So. Unfortunately she failed to mention this to me when she introduced herself. (I swear I'm going to smack her next time I see her.)

Of course I know Just So. I know that her first profile pic she was sporting a pair of wicked white rimmed sunglasses. And I know that her current profile pic looks exactly like my college roommate from Ricks.

But in real life she doesn't look like my roommate, and she doesn't wear white rims, and her name tag said something like thesegolilypad. Bottom line: I didn't recognize her. I had to put on my super sleuth hat and switch my brain into deductive reasoning mode

And guess who I decided she was?

Tamn, from Seriously, So Blessed.

BAAAAAAAAAA!

No, I really did, because let's just say she knew too much. Plus she was dropping all kinds of subliminal messages.

For instance, when she and DeNae's sinfully silly sister, Amber

kept nudging me and giggling about a post they were reading written by Jessica from bernit.com.

It was about the first time Jessica wore a feminine hygiene product that begins with TAMN . . .

Uh hem . . . you get me?

Why would they be reading about a feminine hygiene product that starts with TAMN, if they weren't trying to give me an Encyclopedia Brown clue about Shanna's undercover identity? Hmm, hmm, hmm?

But as it turned out she is Just So, the same blogger who once saw me shopping at Macey's for Diet Coke (for my hub), but was too shy to say HI!

(Like I said before, SMACK!)

Shanna, I still lub you, even though you're not Tamn.

And Amber, I still lub you, even though you were pulling gray hairs out of my head.

BTW, in case you were wondering, YES that was Kristina P. in the pink snuggie.

And yes, she opened the conference with the Star Spangled Banner. (hee hee hee)

It would have been a highlight if it were true.

There were plenty of other true highlights though.

Like seeing Jillybean, who has a way of making me want to watch Ice Castles again and again. She bedazzled this snuggie for Kristina P. in only two hours. I should have her bedazzle my next magic quilt, huh?

Other cool highlights:

I FINALLY met Annie Valentine.


She's may be preggo, but she's still a super model. (And can I just say that her voice is super duper sultry!)

I also got to meet Mommy J from Mommy Snark and Ink Mom from I'm (not) Crazy Mom

They're famous blogging sisters from North Carolina, and I overheard them saying "I wish Melanie J. were here. We LUB Melanie J."

I said "HEY, I lub Melanie J. too!" So we made a postcard for Melanie J:

You're welcome, MJ!

For all of you out there who didn't go to the CBC, you MUST go next year. I double dog dare you. It was outstanding. I learned so much. For instance:

I learned that everyone's shoes are way more glam-bam than mine. (I wore my fit flops the second day.)

I also learned that me and Amber from Making the Moments Count are kinda trippy when under the influence of Photoscape.

I learned that Annette Lyon can dew the Dew with the best of them. (Seriously, she's got sass-a-frass!)

And I learned that Braden Bell has his very own Charlie's Angels.

These are the three girlz who worked on the song He Healeth Me for Braden's debut book, The Road Show.

Sherri Shepherd, (on the right) who is absolutely adorable--fer real--wrote the song, while DeNae Handy, did the violin arrangement, and Veronica Johnson, (on the left) did the vocals, and believe you me, it sounds loverly.

(Me? Oh, I'm just with the band.)

Don't believe me about how loverly it sounds? Go take a listen for yourself. (You'll have to download.) Or go to Braden's blog for a sample.



I learned a bunch of other stuff too, at the conference thingie. Real kine stuff. But I'll have to share that tomorrow because like I said before . . .

I. am. so. darn. pooped.