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I had a good snuggle with Ike on Sunday. Midge has two men in her life now, so being a good best friend she shares. Having something so sweet in my arms leaves me sorta craving a baby. But I’m well aware that craving a baby is much more dangerous then craving chocolate peanut butter ice cream. From what I understand it’s much easier to work off one serving of ice cream then nine months of baby. Besides I promised my Mom today I’d wait until I was 35 to have a baby out of wedlock. She says that gives her sufficient time to find me a husband. I have my doubts, but if she wants to make a hobby out of my social life who am I to stop her?

Dear Chady,

Thanks for proving I am way cooler then Ben. I’ve always known it, and suspected you did too. I can’t wait to tell him you called me from the airport and not him. And promised I’ll make him send you a letter soon. If not a letter he can at least draw you a picture or something? I finally gave him your letter Friday night at our favorite bar. It’s the only time I was going to see him, so figured it’s better to give it to him there then not at all. I took a picture of it on the table next to our liquid refreshment. It’s irreverent I know, but makes me smile nonetheless.

You’re a total punk ass, you know. Telling me to come get you from the airport is not a joke. For just a moment I thought I was going to be smuggling a missionary out of the airport into the real world.

It’s crazy to think as I type this you’re well on your way to Japan. I can’t believe I am not going to see you for two years. How sad, but there is something you can do that will bring me much comfort: FIND HELLO KITTY WINE! I’ve seen pictures of it and need it. I’m not suggesting you break Mormon code and drink it, I’m just suggesting you send it for my birthday. You have until November; so don’t make it a priority.

I can’t believe you got cheated out of seeing The Simpsons movie before you left. I know how much you’d been looking forward to seeing it. If it makes you feel any better I saw and loved it. Also sorry to hear all your music got deleted off your iPod. Maybe God did it? You’re not supposed to have non-church music, right? Anyway, as usual I’m more than happy to help you break the rules. Let me know what you want sent.

Love you Bear! I’ll be waiting for a letter from Japan.

Love, Sis

Chady-bear leaves the MTC next week and heads to Japan. I got my last Provo, Utah postmarked letter today. I laughed so hard at this part, I just had to post it:

“I didn’t learn Japanese in three months. I can speak VERY limited and understand all but nothing. But why do I need that when I got a face like mine? I’ll attract all the Japanese girls and my companion will talk to them and teach them. Sound like a good idea?”

(Ben, Matt, Chady, Sarah)

After looking at the picture he sent me of just us kids on the day he entered the MTC, I think he should be okay. He’s lucky he doesn’t look like Matt, then there might be problems.

Ben is such a good brother. He came and took me to lunch today, but STILL didn’t hang my shelves. Walking to our car I noticed a jeep parked next to me with a Mitt Romney sticker on the back.

“Ben, hand me your Sharpie.”

“No! This is my favorite marker and I don’t want it to end up in the evidence bin at the police station.”

I was mostly kidding. He was not. He has a strange fascination with markers and carries a Sharpie in his pocket. I wonder if this has something to do with the lack of girlfriend in his life.

Today I had the opportunity to make an appearance on Studio 5 with Brooke Walker to discuss blogging. It was my first television gig, unless you count the time I was arrested for robbing the 7-11. I kid, I kid. (Seriously, mom, I’m joking. No need to call.)

It’s true what they say about the camera adding 10 pounds. Strangely it added the weight to my face, when I’d requested it go straight to my chest. Oh well, it’s always worth a shot.

I had a great time and if you’ve not watched Studio 5 you should definitely check it out. They were all very nice, even if they did make me watch BYU baseball dubbed in Spanish in the waiting area.

Last night I heard Daisy go upstairs. I went up a few minutes later and couldn’t find her. I walked back down the stairs and looked around. Nothing. I started to panic thinking what if she slipped out of the house and I hadn’t noticed. Frantic, I ran back upstairs one last time to look around before going out to scour the neighborhood. Suddenly the giant pile of laundry on my floor shifted. She raised her head long enough to give me evil skank eye for disturbing her slumber and laid back down and went to sleep. Stubborn little creature refused to the rest of the night. Perhaps I should consider doing laundry soon?

To read this week’s column where I make an attempt at pole dancing go here. To visit The Goddess Academy site go here. To see brilliant photos taken by Cottonsox Photography go here. (Obviously I am in none of these pictures–I was the one tangled in tears on the floor.)

That ought to keep you busy for at least an hour. Enjoy!

My personal life makes my head hurt. Lately, I am left feeling stuck and unappreciated. I needed something to boost my self-confidence. Which, thanks to a crappy couple of weeks, is now in the crapper. Without it, I don’t foresee finding a healthy relationship.

My mission to achieve stronger self-confidence led me to The Goddess Academy where founder Nicole promises to help women achieve self-esteem through tapping into their inner goddess. Bingo. It sounded like just what I needed to get out of my pity party slump.

I perused the website trying to find where I should start. The Academy offers a variety of workshops and classes to choose from. After reading each class description I opted for the pole dancing series. It sounded fun and if nothing else an excellent workout. I thought it best to leave the ‘Making Love to Your Man’ series until I actually had a man. All the classes sounded intriguing and once the pole series is over I’ll definitely move onto the next– if I can still walk.

I talked a friend into taking the class with me. Nicole was nice enough to invite us to watch a special advanced class with a special guest: Jenyne, an award winning pole dancer from Las Vegas. She was an amazing performer, and by watching her I saw the beauty involved in pole dancing. It’s not just about dancing in a seedy strip club; it’s an art form that requires an amazing amount of endurance and muscle strength.

Watching Jenyne and Nicole dance left me absolutely terrified. I’m a klutz and have never been athletic. I couldn’t help but think that I got myself in way over my head. It was going to be a challenge to stay on the pole and off the floor.

I ignored my growing insecurities and attended the class as scheduled. Nicole was an incredibly patient teacher. I wasn’t the most graceful class member and she made me feel comfortable enough to keep going.

After an hour of dancing, I was spent. Every muscle in my body ached. My friend was equally as sore. As promised, it was a fantastic workout. The next morning I woke up and found myself still unbelievably sore and bruised everywhere: my ankles, my knees and even my arms. Nicole mentioned that I should expect small bruising, but being slightly anemic my bruises were nowhere near small. The bruises did, however, make for entertaining conversation with my family.

Days later I was still feeling the effects of my “workout.” Even putting deodorant on in the morning was painful. I consulted with my friend and we decided holding your entire body weight on a pole is bound to leave some muscle aches and we shouldn’t let that stop us from returning.

So we went back the following Saturday. The second class wasn’t as wearisome as the first and I found myself getting the hang of it. I definitely enjoyed myself more and will continue the classes. I don’t see myself making a career change but I absolutely believe it can boost self-esteem– after the bruising fades, of course.

Do you have a justification dance? I do. It’s cute and geeky all at the same time. And today I had the opportunity to share it with everyone in the parking lot of Blockbuster.

I went with Marky to pick up some crack cocaine, or Deadwood, whatever. Do not deny this boy his smack. He gets moody! As we were checking out Marky was lingering near the treats. I kindly reminded him we were stopping at Maverick for drinks and Sunchips. The cashier got excited, which is not normal. (The Hollywood Video near my house employs zombie kids. I’m sure they are just hungover and puffy from the previous night, but I’m sticking with the zombie story.) The cashier and I, we bonded over cinamon flavored Sunchips. I discovered them at a truck stop in Evanston and have been in love ever since. Seriously, churros in a bag. It’s a beautiful thing.

As usual Marky has been forced to accept my obsessions. Meaning he’s driven me to countless gas stations on the hunt for them. Sadly, they’re not so easy to find. I was so excited that someone else was just as addicted. Suddenly I felt normal. Of course only for a brief second, because that’s when the parking lot of people saw me dancing around with my fist in the air–ala Rocky Balboa.

Blogging is so much like high school. I remember Pants telling me this, and I shrugged it off thinking it couldn’t be all that bad. It is. When blogging you put yourself out there for anyone to read, that’s the point, right? Sometimes you read a blog not because you are “stalking” the person, but because you enjoy the writing. Rather than bother myself with it, I’m going to revamp the old RSS feed. This is where you come in. I need a daily does of blogs to read. I’m a blog junkie! I’d love some new recommendations on entertaining, well-written blogs. Email or comment me if you have any. My RSS feed and I will be eternally grateful!

Moving on.

Wine was spilled last night, and again it was not my fault. Learning my lesson, I kept my cup in hand the entire time. Even then it still got kicked over. You’d think it would be impossible but a fellow concert kicked the cup out of my hand as he passed, causing it to spill all over Aimee. There was no attempted apology. Which may have been my fault–I think I offended him. I tend to expand my vocabulary to include every expletive I know when someone kicks my hand. It hurt therefore I’m 100% justified–that’s how it works, yo!

Aimee was soaked in red wine. Which totally made it okay to plot revenge. She had a plan, that is until sweet Sue intervened. “God is watching you, Aimee.” Aimee looked to me for an answer. “It’s Baby Jesus I’d be concerned with, and he must be asleep by now. Go for it.” I knew it was mean, but I was bitter. I wanted to get through an outside concert without having my drink displayed all over my friend’s clothing and blanket. Just one! Is that really too much to hope for?

In the end there was no revenge plan executed. Once the word karma got thrown into the conversation it was all over. The gods of karma better pay off today, or I’m going to be pissed!

I, Sarah Middlenameless Nielson, will never encourage friends to start blogging again. I have learned a very valuable lesson. Midge started a blog for her new son Ike, but realizing how cool blogs can be, she created her own as well. Here she’s posted some humiliating photos she arranged of me years ago. And in typical self-deprecating fashion I’m going to pass them on.

“Why,” you ask? Why not.

View the horror here.

What I’ve learned since the 90’s:
1) Having a killer tan leads to skin cancer.
2) All fashion from this decade should be burned.

I hope to forgive her before tonight’s Ryan Adams concert. Since I don’t have a date she’ll have to snuggle me if i get cold. Let the healing process begin…