First I had a bake sale to earn money for my Los Angeles trip—a four-day endeavor, when all was said and done. Then we had Thanksgiving the very next weekend. And then the next weekend I went to L.A.
The L.A. trip was all right, but stressful; there was a lot of drama going on with eighteen personalities sharing seven rooms and three minivans. We flew out at 8 a.m. on Thursday the 17th and went straight to the fabric district after we arrived. We stayed there hiking and shopping until they closed at 5 p.m. I got a few things I thought I wanted, and then spent a lot of the evening regretting some of my purchases.
At 8 p.m. we went to a really stupid fashion show—if you think of mostly naked people (panty-length short-shorts, pasties, and a jacket, for example) as fashion. The show was in a club, so everyone there (except for my group) was drinking. They crowded up around the stage, staring up at these scantily-clad women, and shrieking when the male models removed shirts or jackets, and I kept thinking there is something really sycophantic about this whole thing. After the show one of our advisers asked me what I thought of it; I tried to think of something nice to say, but the only think I could come up with was, "Not much." It certainly wasn't worth standing around in high-heeled shoes for three hours.
We finally got to our hotel and to sleep around midnight that first night.
Friday I woke up and reconsidered the fabrics for a few of my dresses, figured some of the fabrics I'd bought the day before were a loss, and planned how to move forward. We went and met a designer and visited the museum at FIDM, and by then I'd had about enough. But after that we went back to the fabric district and I bought more things that I would regret later. We went to the Santa Monica Pier in the evening, and went to a crepe place (crepes that you eat, not crepe fabric) before we went back to our hotel.
While we were all out and about I noticed that while anyone was happy enough to be with me one on one if I was the one person available, yet when we were in a group of three or more I was rarely the one sought out or talked to. They didn't mind me coming and talking to them, but they were more comfortable with each other. When we were at the pier it was as if this bubble grew around me and little groups split away; if I had a bird's eye view it might have looked like this:
I realized that I'd have had so much more fun with my family—especially Bruce, but my kids too—and I was lonely for them. They are my very best friends; the ones who know that I can sing and dance and play and be witty and even silly sometimes—I'm not just the quiet (but nice) lady with eight kids.
Well on Friday we got to bed around midnight again. Then on Saturday morning the light shone down on me, the angels sang "♪ Laaaa! ♪" and I knew what to do with the fabrics I'd already bought and what else I still needed. Yay! We packed up our stuff for the trip home and went back to the fabric district. I broke away from everyone else in the afternoon, got my stuff and spent the rest of our time there doing whatever I wanted. When we got to the Salt Lake airport I experienced the same phenomenon I'd had on the pier—everyone took off and left me behind. But that's understandable; we were all tired and anxious to be home by then; we all had our own agendas.
Bruce met me at the airport with flowers. Nobody else got that treatment! I was so happy to see him, flowers or not, and be back home.
But back to the main point, which is that October has been a crazy month.
Sunday, the day after I got back from L.A, we went and saw my niece, Lita, give her farewell talk (she's going on a mission to Mexico, and left yesterday, the same day Jason did). Monday morning I woke up and cried for about an hour, de-stressing a little, I suppose.
Sunday the 28th (the week after the L.A.trip) was when Jason had to give his farewell talk in church so I planned an open-house for family and friends to come and say goodbye and wish him luck, etc. It was another weekend full of cooking, cleaning and baking. But Sunday was a really nice day.
Now, mind you, amid all this extra chaos I still had to do my regular mom stuff and keep up with my schoolwork. It's been a lot to handle. On Monday (the 29th) I spent the day making my swimsuit for my intimate apparel class and that evening we had a family dinner at my mom's house with Paul's family (Lita is his daughter) and Melanie's family. On Tuesday it was more more sewing; it took longer to make the suit than I'd hoped it would, but I got it finished (I wanted to turn it in Tuesday by lunch time. Not even.).
Oh. And the van broke down Tuesday morning. We still don't know what's wrong with it.
Tuesday evening we went to the Stake President's office to have Jason set apart for his mission. On the way there I realized that I'd done the last steps of the swimsuit totally wrong and I'd have to undo and redo it. But we had to help Jason pack up and drive him to the MTC on Wednesday; I'd have to fix the suit Tuesday night. So I stayed up until 2:30 working on it, then on Wednesday I got up at 6:30 and finished it by 8:00. (It was due Wednesday afternoon, but since I wouldn't be going to class I had to get it done and turned in early.)
When the swimsuit was done I helped Jason pack, we all said our goodbyes, and we were off.
Now he is at the MTC, will be going to Canada in two weeks, and I am a little sad. Happy that he's going, proud of him, but still a little sad. But it's good. Very good, in fact.
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