Flashback Friday: The Society of Sharon

(Note: Although my grandmother's name is Sharon, that is simply coincidence.  A very lucky coincidence.  I wish my real name was Sharon.)

My friends and I...we're kind of weird.  But it's a good, funny weird.  Not a scary, what-on-earth-is-that-person-even-thinking weird.  ...I hope.  Last night I was conversing with my friend Rashelle over facebook about the "good old days" (aka, high school).  Rashelle and I were quite the dynamic duo.  My mother will tell you that means we were always up to no good.  (But our shenanigans nearly always made her laugh.)  I'm not really sure why or when exactly, but one day we started referring to each other as Sharon. It started out as just a joke.  But "Sharon" somehow grew bigger than expected.  Everywhere we went, other people began using it.  One summer at girls camp we got everyone to speak with a British accent and refer to each as Sharon.  People liked it; it somehow made them feel as if they were part of a club.  And in a way, they kind of were.  Sharon had outgrown our childish jokes and become a title of respect and friendship.  We would say whenever anyone acted in a way we rather they didn't, it was because they weren't a Sharon.  We referred to our mothers as "Momma Sharon."  Upon seeing one another, our greeting was always a joyful shout of, "SHARON!  HOW LOVELY TO SEE YOU!!"
When I left for college, Sharon-speak had kind of become a habit.  And it caught on with my roommates, because fortunately, they were fellow Sharons.  I know I had nothing to do with it, they were already swimming in the essence of Sharon.  Sharons aren't made you know, they're born.  You're probably wondering right now if you are grand enough to gain entrance into our wonderful sisterhood.  Well I'll give you some pointers.
You might be a Sharon if:

You love to take awkward candid pictures of people.

You always look sassy for the Mormon Dance. (Ignore the sexy ankles thing.  That's a whole other story.)

You love to make massive amounts of cookies at least weekly.

You're a tourist in your own town.

Fast food is more fun late at night than during the daytime.

You sneak into the kitchen at Girls Camp to eat...Bacon bits.  Or Brownies.  Or whatever you can find.

You can sleep anywhere.

You wield a large spoon.

You look smokin' hawt all the time.  Or at least most of the time.

You can find other Sharons no matter where you live.

Sharons!

You often find yourself with this expression on your face.

Things like this happen at random.

You hold articles of clothing hostage.

When asked to construct a wedding dress out of toilet paper, you come up with the middle look.

You appreciate good lookin' men.

And they appreciate you, even when you look like this.

You are as gangsta as they come.

This post is dedicated to all my fellow Sharons.  This post probably didn't make any sense to anyone except for you.

Baby Shower Numero Uno

My wonderful mother-in-law threw a baby shower for me this weekend!  It was so beautiful and so much fun!  Carrie and the girls prepared a wonderful crepe brunch, complete with chicken and broccoli crepes, eggs florentine crepes, AND a dessert crepe bar.  I may have eaten like two of each kind, but it's for the baby, you know?  (Joking, I realize my baby doesn't need all that food.  Just look at how chubby my cheeks look in the following pictures and you'll see where all those extra calories are going.)  Regardless, it was delicious.  Aunt Tasha provided some fun games for us to play, Aunt Debbie made those awesome flower cookies as favors (and took most of the pictures in this post...), and so many ladies from Dave and Carrie's ward turned out to show their support.  We appreciate all everyone did and all the love we felt!

The Crepe Bar!

The eggs florentine crepes, pre-cheese sauce deliciouness

Diaper cake made by Carrie and Melanie.

Another angle

Beautiful bouquet Sister Kimball brought!

Opening all the gifts!

All the Vaccarello ladies! (Dan's Mom's side of the family.)

Aren't these amazing!  Debbie is basically a cookie genius.

Now that I have all this baby stuff it's kind of setting in on me that this is actually happening.  Exciting but scary.  Less than a month to go.  Seriously.

Flashback Friday: How to take a Myspace Profile Picture

Remember Myspace??  Remember how every girl (and many guys) had a million pictures of themselves making the exact same face?  You'd click through their pictures and it was a different angle of them with kissy lips, throwing up gang signs, or maybe they were just half-naked (always a popular shot).
Once upon a sleepover, Ellen and I were discussing this phenomenon.  We wondered if maybe we were missing out on something, and decided to give it a try.  The majority of these photos have never seen the light of day.  Probably for good reason.  (And maybe some of those Myspace girls could learn a lesson here.)

I don't really remember what face we were portraying here.  It looks like someone punched me in the stomach.

And that's how we got all the boys in high school.

Happy Love Day. [A little late]

Breakfast for two.
See's Candies in the "six dollar box", a bouquet of flowers, and a fully-assembled rocking chair.
Plus dinner at a diner.
Plus laughing with you.
Plus our baby growing in my tummy.

Sometimes, when we were first dating, I would look at you and think my heart could just burst from how much I felt for you.  How much love was pounding away through my veins.  But I love you even more now than then.  Even if "way back then," I thought that was impossible.

Plus eternity.

Dear People of the World:

If you have to use the words faded, wasted, drunk, or any similar adjective to describe your state of being, you should probably get off Facebook before you do anymore damage.
If you're posting multiple updates on your drunken state, you probably shouldn't drink alone.  Or ever, because you clearly can't handle it.

Please stop, it's like being drunk dialed, except I can't screen your calls.
Thank you.

Some days I sincerely want to go on another Facebook fast.

Flashback Friday: Luscious Lips, the ward-prayer special, and party lines.

For today's episode, I'd like to take you back to my years at BYU.  Winter Semester, 2009.  I was single and ready to mingle.  And so was my wing-woman, Katherine.  Some of our favorite boys to mingle with lived just down the hall.  Greg and Christian. These two were awesome.  One was British, extremely witty, played guitar, and had just the right amount of nerd.  The other was flirtatious, out-of-control, a gourmet chef, stylish...and he had the most luscious looking lips we had ever seen (and hopefully he doesn't ever read this, because that might be kind of awkward to hear about yourself).  Another way to describe Christian was written underneath his picture in our ward directory.  "This one is a stallion, and yet, with the bridle of love, we shall tame him!"  We may have been a little weird. 

Here is the thing about my favorite wing-woman.  She is about as flirty and saucy as they come, but she doesn't like to walk the walk as much as she talks the talk.  Christian's favorite hobby became trying to get her to walk the walk.  These are honestly some of my favorite memories in the world.  One Sunday evening, Greg and Christian decided we should all play poker.  Since we were all broke college students (and Mormon), we couldn't gamble any money.  So creative ideas were substituted.  Trips to Coldstone, shoulder rub, and "the ward-prayer special".  [If you've never been to BYU, ward prayer usually occurs every Sunday evening.  The whole ward is invited to come join in prayer, socialize, enjoy treats, a spiritual thought, etc.  Also, as in any singles ward, it's an opportunity to scope out the babes, and get the update on who is seeing who.]  The ward prayer special came about because Christian's favorite things to lay out on the table always had to do with Katherine doling out affection upon him in public: hand holding for at least five minutes, a hug that lasted longer than five seconds, and, when he was feeling really cheeky, a kiss on the cheek.  The ward prayer special included all of the above, in the ultimate combo deal of lovin'. I'm not sure that Katherine ever agreed to any of these, but it was always fun to try and call her bluff with "the ward prayer special."

Another favorite moment was Katherine's birthday surprise.

"I didn't know how else to wrap my heart."

I guess Katherine was taking too long to unwrap him, because Christian busted out of his wrappings and pounced on her about five seconds after this photo was taken. 

So what prompted all the Christian-harassing-Katherine memories?  Aside from her birthday this week, probably finding these precious love notes from Sunday School while organizing:

 For those unfamiliar with the "chastity line," it marked where the hall to the bedrooms began.  Under the BYU honor code, that section of the apartment was off limits to members of the opposite sex.  I think I enjoy Christian's reinterpretation of it as "The Party Line."

Isn't college fun?  Sometimes I miss it.  Then I remember the school part, and don't as much.