In Lieu of Flowers

Well this is tough for me to say but I suppose the best way is to not stall any longer and just tell you the good or bad news depending on your view point... I am dying. I am sure this is tough news for everyone to handle and let me tell you it was quite the shock to me as well, however I have come to grips with my fate and I am okay with it. Please don't think you have to treat me any differently then you already do. Also please no questions about how I feel about death, I just want to enjoy my final time on earth without the memory of my impending doom.

I am sure that you are wondering what I am dying from. I have West Nile. You see the other day I was letting one of God's creatures have a little Bloody Mary from my arm. I figured letting him quench his thirst would only cause me a little itchy discomfort. If only I would have known what a fatal decision that would turn out to be. I have had a headache as big as Kanye West's ego for about four days now, which I just assumed was based on caffeine or lack of circulation. But this morning an article on KSL rocked my world.

"West Nile confirmed cases rises by five today." Just out of curiosity I wondered what the symptoms of West Nile were. I figured being well informed on random information could never hurt if I were to happen to appear on Jeopardy sometime in my life. I mean come on would like to be embarrassed in front of Alex? The symptoms made my blood run cold

1. Headaches

2. Tiredness

3. Soar muscles

4. Fever

5. Paralysis

So here I am reading this with a headache that is going on day four! Today I totally could not get out of bed. And you guessed it my muscles are so sore that I don't believe a Swedish 300lbs. masseuse could fix me. I just asked my co-worker and she says I definitely look and feel like I have a fever of 102. Any second now I am expecting to drop to the floor completely unable to move my limbs.

Like I said before though don't worry about me. I am feeling only slight discomfort. I would now like to bid thee all farewell. To make funeral arrangements easier on my mother I would like to be either buried in a pine box or cremated and spread in the woods so I can give back to nature. Also no need to worry about my money, ironically today my employer had me fill out my life insurance policy. I have also composed my own obituary again to make it easier on my family, giving them another thing off their funeral list. Really all that is needed now is someone to bring the funeral potatoes.

ANNE MANGUM

(insert photo of choice)*

Anne Mangum passed away on mm/dd/yyyy from the awful disease, West Nile. She was adamant on letting the people of Utah know how she died so they may be less laid back about the disease and protect themselves better. Anne was a brilliant young woman who enjoyed such things as sun bathing on the lawn and picking daisies in the mountains. She was often caught singing in her car into an imaginary microphone or whistling a merry tune as she walked. She enjoyed eating Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and McDonald's 99 cent ice cream. Anne was survived by -(enter who would like to be mentioned for there ten minutes of fame here) Funeral services will be held- ( enter information) In lieu of flowers we ask all mourners to wear and bring insect repellent to be sprayed at the end of the services.

*(please only a good one from the chest up I would like to be remembered without a muffin top)

"You are very nice, now here is your ticket."

Alright, so yesterday I am driving down Wasatch Blvd right around Pepper Wood street in Sandy. For those of you who have ever been up there you know about the HUGE white house up on the bench that looks like Daddy Warbucks lives there. Anyway here I am driving along and I notice a Police car sitting in the parking lot of a church. I instinctively applied my breaks and looked down at my speedometer. To my relief I had been cruising at a smooth 39 miles an hour. As I pass by him I notice his lights turn on and the car begin to pull out. "Ha," I thought, " Some poor law breaker is about to get owned!" Well turns out that criminal was me. "Are my plates expired or something?' I could not honestly think of why I was getting pulled over, maybe there was a car that looked like mine that had some kind of warrant out for it. I mean really I wasn't going to fast. Fast foward to the cop and my conversation.

" Ma'am do you know why I pulled you over?"
(First of all do I look old enough to be called Ma'am?)

"No Sir I do not."

" Ma'am are you aware of the speed limit on this road?"
(There he goes calling me that again. I quickly glance in my mirror for wrinkles)

" Yes, the speed limit is 35mph."

" Do you know how fast you were going when I pulled you over Ma'am."
(Freak give me whatever ticket you want just stop calling me that!)

" Why I believe I was going about 38-39mph."

" Actually you were going 40mph"

" Was I? Well thank you for bringing that to my attention."

" Ma'am I must say you are a very nice person."
( If I'm in fact so nice why do you keep punishing me?)

" Well thank you very much officer."

" It is refreshing to pull over someone who doesn't fight or cry to get out of trouble."

" Well if I was in fact breaking the law then there is no reason to try and argue my way out."

" If you wouldn't mind me seeing your license we can get you on your way shortly, hang tight."


He walks back to his car and I think, " I am for sure not getting a ticket, he thought I was nice and might I add refreshing."


" Alright Ma'am if you will just sign here stating that you agree to call the court and pay your
fine we can send you on your way."


Can you really believe that guy! He gives me a ticket for going five over after complimenting me! I mean seriously did he not read my blog on my celebrity status? I have I already so quickly fallen to the "C" list? Was I not showing enough cleavage? This is a downer on my confidence, I mean I know men who get out of tickets. Maybe that is it... Cops are playing for the opposite team ( if you get what I'm saying) or maybe it is and example thing. Paris Hilton had to got to jail for a month so her fans wouldn't think that just because your beautiful and famous you can get away with breaking the law. Maybe this guy really did know who I was and felt the need to make an example of me for the good of my teeny bopper fan club. In that case he could have just said so, if not for any other reason then staying of the hit list that is my blog. Let's hope that he is not just an over active "new guy" trying to fill his quota for the day. I f so may God have mercy on his soul.

Excuse me, You stink.

So I have found myself pondering about what to blog on for about three weeks and I have been drawing blank after blank. I was wandering through the blogspot land trying to get inspired by someone elses life. I soon discovered that I have to write my own story and through my daily ritual something had to come along that would be interesting enough to blog about. That hot gossip came today....

To start this off properly I must give a back story. My birthday is June 27. This particular birthday brought on a new era of my life, I turned twenty one which means along with the whole liquor thing I got to go get a new drivers license! Well for most people this would be something very exciting and they would probably not let there license be expired for two months to the day like I did. Today I finally got so sick of my mother nagging at me that I decided to bite the bullet and "get er' done". If I had only known what a good blog opportunity this would turn out to be I probably would have not stalled nearly as long.

So I drive to the address of 799 N. & Redwood Rd. to find The Drivers License Office in the same parking lot as Save-On Groceries, Dollar Tree, and right next door ? You guessed it Gen-X clothing. As i walked through the doors I realized that everyone there had taken a special shopping trip to Gen-X for that perfect license photo outfit. (the license picture is key in getting pulled over and getting out a ticket, this making shirt choice very important) Tube tops in retina burning shades for the ladies 200+ lbs. for the ladies, and camo wife beaters for the fellas with juiced up biceps are very in this season for those of you wondering. Damn my business lady attire! At the main desk I get my paper work and a number. I am number A109, they are currently on F354. Does this mean I have to wait for the alphabet to get back to the start? So the mullet haired lady tells me to take the open seat on the back row next to the "homeless looking man"( hey I didn't say it she did!) until my number is called.

Here my friends is where the true story begins. So this man that I must sit by looks and smells like he has not showered in years! I mean honestly he had to have been able to smell himself! And therefore should have had the courtesy of wearing a sign that read, "Distance please. Your nasal hairs are in danger!" I mean that would have been the Christian thing to do! But no! I get to sit there next to the smelliest man I have ever encountered and let my nasal passage gag! My eyes begin to water, great now I am going to look like Alice Cooper in my picture. No tube top and now "Be my Frankenstein" eyes. This guy really put a damper on my life.

So what if he really couldn't smell himself? Wouldn't whomever he lives with let him know that he smells like a 50 year old bowling shoe never worn with socks? OK then the other question arises. What if nobody lives with him? ( not surprising with that stench cloud of his) Am I now obligated to tell him about his stinkyness? And if so how do I tactfully say that to a stranger. Tell me what you think of these ways. Polite- " Pardon me Mr. Homeless? Your aroma is a little ripe. Would you mind bathing sometime this year?" Less Polite- "Excuse me, you stink." Humorous- "Is your deodorant running? Well you better go catch it!" Sneaky- " Do you smell something awful? I really hope that is not me." I am sure there are more ways out there.

I don't know about you but if I smelled even a little bit... "off" I would appreciate if I were informed. So next time you see me go ahead and lift my arm and sniff right in the pit. I wont even think you are weird. I will know you are just being good neighbor, trying to keep global warming at bay.

Calling All Cardigans

There is the saying that looks can be decieving and I am here to say that infact they are. I am going to use the example of myself for this blog. Now if I were not terrified of rapists, internet stalkers and other forms of scary bad men I would put a picture of myself to help with my point in this blog. So picture a blonde 21 year old girl. ( I guess I could gloat and tell you how gorgeous and tall and lean I am with a good figure and striking features with thick full hair and smokey grey eyes with totally kissable lips, but I am not looking for that kind of publicicty at the moment. Hence another reason that my picture is not up on any of my blogs) Back to the issue at hand, the other night I was out with my man freind playing a rousing game of Dominoes with his forty year old brother and sister. My man friend is 27 and like I said I am 21. (I'm thinking we need to be on a pop culture team because we span 20 years of great entertainment history) So this game of Dominoes was the true virsion not the Mexican Chicken foot way that I believe was invented to turn possible adoring Dominoes fans against the game. Around the fourth round of team Harold against the Oldies I relized that I am a grandma trapped in a 1986'rs body! I mean here I am sitting in my designer jeans and shoes playing Dominoes and I realize that this is all wrong! With the way I enjoy things like Dominoes, Bingo, Prune Juice, Knitting, Water Aerobics, Sunday Specials at IHOP, Watching the Golden Girls, Lazy Boy Recliners, Reading the Obituaries, Orange Lipstick, AMC Television, Walking Up Hill Both Ways from School, Bridge, Watching the Price is Right, Rice Pudding, and other such activities, I am wearign the wrong clothes! My Nine West pumps need to be traded in for orthopedic penny loafers, Juicy Couture jeans to become highwaist elastic pants, and my Michael Starrs top for you guessed it a cardigan sweater. I must say that I am not ashamed of my identity crisis. In fact realizing you may be 80 is quite the relief! I know longer have to worry about choosing the wrong man to spend the rest of my life with because whom ever I choose should be pushing up daisies fairly soon. Also I am old enough to legally be "ok" being a little bit crazy. Everyone expects old people to have lost their lid and say outlandish things, like telling teenage girls exactly how you feel about there "floosie ways of dressing". Now the question falls of, " How do I make my outer appearance match that of my soul?" The clothes I suppose is a good start but not near good enough. I will have to bask in the bulbs of tanning bed heaven for that perfect leather skin, paint my eye brows on in an odd shade of blue, and get my hair washed and permed once a week. Do not be alarmed when you see me selling something on QVC, I am just accepting the fact that I am the way I am. Who knows maybe I will even change my name to Maude.

THANK YOU SANDRA

So to look at the face of this woman you would think she is harmless. Well my dear friends in particular men who are reading this, this woman may just be your worste enemy. Sandra Brown is a New York Times best selling author of thrillers and romance novels. I am going to be discussing the romance novels.



Sandra writes the kind of novel that is racey enough that you really don't want your mother to know that you are reading. There has been more then one occasion while reading Sandra Brown "sexy party" scenes where I find my covers off, the windows being opened and finally resulting in a cold shower just to cool my jets! I am not here to talk sex unfortunatly. (nottoday atleast)



What men should fear is that this red haired lady is totally ruining their game with the ladies! You see the characters in Sandra's novels are full of scared timid yet strong women, that find themselves fighting hard not to fall for beautiful looking men. It is not the mens described looks that is the bad part. The men in these novels pursue the women they love. From the moment they see the woman that they are attracted to they do not give up until the ice queens hearts have melted and they have them in bed! (do keep in mind they are looking for more then sex however) In my brief time back on the dating market I have found that men are complete girls! They expect you to pursue them if you desire them in anyway, the expect you to make the first move when it comes to anything physical, while they just seem to turn off and stare at the screen of the television. This whole "is he or isn't he into me" mind game is enough to make me glad I am not attached and hope I never have to be again. I left high school four years ago and that is also where I left the "do you like me? circle yes or no" notes. Thanks to Sandra Brown I now have the desire to wait for a guy who truely is interested in me to come along. I figure if they are intersested they will make the moves and not want to put me through the hell that is the mind games and drama! Plus after ten chapters of supressing their desire they make "whoopie" that makes the reader sweat! I mean who wouldn't wait just for the perk of that?

So to all the men out there I would strongly suggest picking up your game. If you need some help go to the local Barnes & Noble and pick up a sandra Brown novel to find out what us women want in a man. I would hurry before more women discover her and your chances are shot to hell!

My loverly lady lumps

So I had a recent discovery the other day as I was strolling through the packed isles of the Nordstrom Rack. Through the sound of screaming children and the hustle of crazed woman trying to find those "instant tummy tuck jeans" I saw them like a beacon from the skies above..... Could I be imagining this? TRUE RELIGION JEANS? I raced to the fitting room and yes my dear friends they fit perfectly! How could I afford not to by them?

The next day I slipped into those beautiful things from heaven and noticed the very thing I am blogging about today. Donny may be a little bit rock and roll and Marie may be a little bit country, but I was a little bit gangsta! The evidence of this lies in the wise words of Stacy "Fergie" Ferguson in the smooth lyrics of "My Humps". I will now break down a line from this song to fully explain what I am trying to get across. " Seven Jeans, True Religion I say no, but they keep giving." To the untrained ear you may think this is a pimp supplying his woman with nice jeans, however now being the proud owner of both Seven Jeans and now True Religion jeans I know what Fergie means. You see though having pants I do not have what the call on the streets a, "Sugar Daddy" topurchase me designer duds. I do believe that these lyrics are meaning your bum. Yes Your bum keeps "giving" an amazing performance in these expensive jeans! There is no pimp here my dear people! I already can feel my curves becoming curvier and my walk having a little more of a dip in it! Before I know it I'll have to start wearing pimp chains and saying things like, "Oh no you better don't!" while snapping my fingers across my body. If you don't recognize me on the street in passing anymore don't feel bad. Just blame it on myTrue Religion jeans.

So now that I have found this discovery do you think I can get away with calling my self "Fergalicious"?

Guilty Pleasure

I was recently cruising the old blog spot.com and I started to realize something about most all blogs. I realized that everyone is writing about things they like of dislike, hobbies, favorite movies, foods, and which family members they secretly find attractive(I will assume this blog is from the southern states). I found myself reading through my posts and thought "Good golly!" I am so sorry to my readers(all 2 of them) that they are reading a blog and not even beggining to see what Annie up is really all about! So I would like to take this time to blog about my guilty pleasures so the American people can finally have a glimpse at my soul. Who knows maybe we will find that we have things in common, and maybe if I were looking we would realize we are in fact...dare I say it?...SOUL MATES!




Well first and formost I love "CHICKLIT". To help you non girls out there "CHICKLIT" are Novels out there for the female sex to read. These books contain high profile characters who usually lead fantasy lives. Ex: In Candace Bushnell's new book Trading Up, we follow the glamorous life of Janey Wilcox a Victoria Secret model trying to marry the right millionare and try to live a life in the upper east side of Manhattan walking around in $50,000 pearls and Burberry boots. I am sure you can see why this is so fabulous for most people. However for the big sicks in the world I will also have you know that there are some....sexual scenes. Yes "CHICKLIT" is full of little fantasy scenes that are juicy enough to call for a cold shower after the chapter ends. So "CHICKLIT" we salute you, your hot scenes, and excellent taste in designer fashion.



Now speaking of designer fashion I do have a guilty shoe pleasure. Sprouting from this addiction I have almost entirely given up going to the animal shelter and letting the dogs out of their cages. I now find my way to the closest Designer Shoe Warehouse and give the shoes the chance to get out of the box and go for a stroll down the catwalk most call the aisle. I am very happy that I have such a kind heart because everyonce in a while I will even take a few pairs home and let them sleep in my nice cozy cedar chest.(yes my shoes sleep in cedar, don't judge them because they are beautiful) I will even let my pride down and say I tear up when ever I enter the old DSW. Thank you designer shoes for always looking fabulous no matter how uncomfortable you may be!



Earlier on I mentioned Candace Bushnell now this is a guilty pleasure genius for she created the most fantastic book that turned into the most fantastic series! We must give her a pat on the back for giving us Carrie Bradshaw, Samantha Jones, Charlotte York, and Miranda Hobbs. These are my girls from Sex and the City. Oh how much I love that show! Where else can I dream that a writer really could afford a nice apartment and have $40,000 worth of Manolo Blahnik shoes? I have to thank you Sex and the City for giving me much needed advice in fashion, sex, and men. And congratulations on being almost as fabulous as The Golden Girls!



Oh The Golden Girls... When a stranger asks me in passing on the streets,"What would you like to be when you grow up young lady?" I easily reply,"Well kind sir, I would love to be the perfect blend of Dorthy Zbornack, Sophia Patrillo, Rose Nylen, and Blanche Devereaux." The most beauticul cocktail of older ladies I know are The Golden Girls. They teach me such wonderful life lessons and wonderful things like great combacks! In season 3 the girls sing about Miami and how stylish it is to live there, well I say Golden Girls, Golden Girls you've got style! Grey hairs, age spots and wrinkls by the mile! Oh I cannot wait to be old so lets all go to the tanning bed to help get us to that golden age faster!



Now my last guilty pleasure is possible because of one very good man friend of mine. My newest guilty pleasure is listening to the arm chilling, relaxing, smooth as butter vocals, and earth rotating lyrics of Lyle Lovett. If you are reading this and have never heard Lyle before, I recommend you buy a cd and let him serinade you immediatly! Your well being is at stake here people! So thank you HB for introducing me to my new friend Lyle, if I had a boat I'd take you HB on the ocean and if I had a pony I's let you ride it on my boat. And to you Lyle... thank you we "Lovett"!