I Would Be Cool If Only I'd.............

I'm coming out. It's time. I feel like I need to be truthful and that I'll never be really happy until I am honest with myself.

So here goes.

I, Loma, Am............

Not Cool.

I'll give you a moment to let it sink in. I'm sure the revelation has you reeling and questioning your very existence.

Okay, so I realize this "outing" in neither shocking or revealing in any way. Anyone who knows me, or has every had a conversation with, probably realized I wasn't cool within 30 seconds of meeting me. But I've always held this deep desire to be one of the "cool kids": to be a trendsetter, to coin catch phrases, to have people flock around me begging for a tenth of my attention.

Yeah, it will never happen. I like hoodies way too much and talking to people gives me anxiety attacks.

But as a "cool wannabe" I spent a good part of life observing those who manage to turn "wannabe" into "is", and the worshiping masses that follow their lead. I was surprised after high school and marriage to find out that the same social hierarchy of the teen years exists in adult social groups. There are the same rulers being worshiped by their adoring serf clones, and I still don't fit with their crowd.

My ego is big enough that I don't really care that I'm not cool enough to hang with the "popular kids", but should I wake up tomorrow with the world upside down and worshiping a new belief system based on People, Seventeen and Sassy Mormon Mom magazines, here's a list of what I'd need to do make the transformation from dull dreary housewife to uber chic, alpha mom:

1* Rework my wardrobe: Immediately start wearing my 13 year old daughter's clothing (doesn't matter that it's 3 size smaller than I wear as #3 will take care of that). Wear skinny jeans that cost a minimum of $120 and have gigantic white stitches on the seams and bedazzled butt pockets. Only purchase shirts that have a Fleur De Lis or rocker chick floral watermarks and are made of the most form fitting material. Buy those mid-thigh dresses and flirty skirts I always thought were inappropriately short because if you slap a pair of skin tight leggings on underneath it takes care of all those pesky modesty issues.

2* Focus on the total package: Go to hair and/or nail school so I can be perfectly coiffed every day. No more ponytails unless accompanied by a Bump-it. Hair must have a minimum of 3 colors of highlights at any time, and must at least reach mid back length. Make-up application classes wouldn't hurt either. It's hard to get that smoky hooker look without tutelage.

3* Three Words: Size Zero Baby. Eliminate carbs, sugar, saturated fats, unsaturated fats, meat and animal products, processed foods, cooked foods, dairy, caffeine, carbonation and starches. Actually, lumping it under " no more eating" would be easier.

4* Run. Run a lot. Wear the shortest, most inappropriate shorts I can find and under armour sports bras. Run in every marathon and iron man competition in a 3 state radius. Run in the snow, rain, and 100 degree weather. Run with a double stroller of crying children (I'll have to borrow a couple of toddlers for this one) but ignore them and blame it on the killer workout jams playing on my itouch.

5* Be tech savvy: Buy every product starting with an "i". itouch, ipad, iphone. Arrange my life so that I cannot possibly exist without any "i" product.

6* It's not just WHAT you wear but WHERE you get it: Only shop at stores that have names using words like "wet" and numbers such as "twenty-one", start with the letter "A" or "H", or have some reference to Bohemian culture.

7* Being trendy requires commitment: Get a gym membership. Join a drill camp class but then drop it 2 weeks later to take up spinning. Forget both for Zumba.

8* Accessories are just as important as the clothes: No look is completed without some bling and plastic. Bring on the giant beads. Put them in necklaces, bracelets and watches. Never, ever, ever wear fewer than 2 pieces at a time. Gold=time to buy your burial plot; Silver=young and relevant. Follow the "Quinn and Finn" rule: wear giant sunglasses all the time (if you have no idea what I'm referencing you probably haven't watched enough Glee. First, shame on you, and second, go buy season one. Right now- run don't walk).

9* Vampires are Hot: Hold Twilight theme parties for every book and movie release. Be at the theater 16 hours early to get the best seats (make sure you wear you "team Edward" or "team Jacob" shirt!). Have a not-at-all-creepy infatuation with a 17 year old actor who plays a werewolf.

10* Blog

I'm 1 for 10 so I guess I have my work cut out for me. If you see me out running at 5 am give me a shout out; you'll know me by my giant sunglasses and "I heart wolves" tank. I might not hear you because I'll have Justin Beiber running on a loop on my ipod, but know I'm not dissing you because I'm so much cooler than you are. I've just finally committed to becoming the best me I can be.

And The World Is Right Again....

Primetime TV has finally returned. The planets have aligned and the tides have been quelled.

Loma is at peace.

I might just start blogging again.

Kicking the Dog When It's Down....

So you know how I had my lady parts ripped out 3 weeks ago? Oh, and remember how I'm now really anemic as Lady Dr. clamped off my artery too hard and internal bleeding ensued?

Yeah, well, yesterday my tooth broke. So today I got to spend 4 hours at the dentist getting a root canal and a crown. The dentist was awesome as was his staff (hilarious actually. I laughed the whole time, and I didn't even have any laughing gas), and I could tell he/they really felt bad about putting me through that ordeal so soon after surgery. They handled me with some serious TLC, and have now completely changed my opinions of dental offices (meaning they are no longer the opening to the underworld). They offered me serious pain meds to get through the weekend, but I learned a long time ago that Lortab, Percocet and Morphine are not Loma's BFF's. Motrin will have to do.

I think TQ knew I was just about on the brink of a physical/mental/emotional break down after this last kick in the you-know-where. I walked in the house to a sparkling clean kitchen, a cleaned and organized playroom in the basement, and all the laundry folded. She is truly an angel. For her reward, I got her a Diet Coke from McDonalds and her Itouch was paroled to her a week early.

If your going to have crisis after crisis, I recommend getting a teenage daughter first. You can't have mine though.

What Is Wrong With Me?????

I can't stop watching old episodes of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. TQ says it's like watching old women pretend they are in high school. Maybe that's the appeal- that you get to vicariously live in the chaos of petty intrigues, cat fights, vain, selfish impulses and gawdy "new money" displays of wealth without having to actually participate in the soap opera-esque life. But no matter the "why" this I know for sure- should I ever travel to New Jersey I'm first frying then dying my hair until it can stand 6 inches above my head on its own without the aid of product; second, locating a tanning salon that specializes in the "extreme jaundice glow"; and lastly, buying every skin tight animal print and metallic shirt/tube top/skirt/dress/leggings in the greater Salt Lake area. I may be just a hick Mormon girl from Utah but I'm pretty sure I can pull off the native look. Speaking like them? Well, that's a whole other problem.

Birthday Wishes to My Sister.....

(Loma dancing with Princess Manda, circa nineteen eighty-something)


Dear my favorite Manda,
I am so so glad that 25 years, 6 hours and 2 minutes ago our muther birthed you out of her canal. I am glad you came out well and that the epidural- her first- worked. She might have sent you back had it not. Thank you for your first 5 years of life, for being my real-life barbie and dress up doll, and letting me poof your hair to unholy heights and give you layer upon layer of bangs. Thank you for willing wearing countless articles of 80's master neon clothing that I picked out for you. Even after you decided to take you fashion future into your own hands, you still agreed to wear my super ugly forest green, drop waist bridesmaid dress when I got married. For that I am indebted to you forever, and vow to wear any hideous dress or pantsuit of your choice when you get hitched. You also have the distinction of giving me the best wedding shower advice of all time, that I "shouldn't take any of his crap". Your relationship started kind of rocky, as you despised him with the hate of a thousand fiery demons for taking your sister away, but I think that over the past 14 years The King has grown on you, kind of like a rash that annoyed you at first but you've scratched so much that it doesn't really itch so much anymore. You are now and have always been the bestest aunt Manda-Fancy-La La-Single O-Amanda in the whole world, and I hope I can live the rest of my days in such as way that I am worthy so that we can build our next-door mansions in heaven. But until then, you complete me, and the eggs from my single ovary are incubating somewhere in my belly just waiting to be called on should you need them. Oh, and go UTES!!!!!!!!!!
Love, Loma


(TQ, Loma and Manda today- Sisters, BF's and Q-P's forever. Yes, she is taller than me. 5'11.5" to my 5'9.5". I'm not bitter. Well, not much)

(Note to reader- yes I understand that "muther" is not a real word. It's a Quarter-puertor thing. As is "bestest", "la la" and "single O". I'd let you in on the secret, but you'd have to have a DNA test first to prove your heritage. If you are skittish around needles there's a multiple choice "can you use duct tape to fix ________?" test you can take that involves no blood drawing. Sorry, it's how we Q-P's roll gringos.)

Bribery...

Man Child just told me that I am his best friend all because I (A) didn't make him finish his lunch and (B)let him put off his "rest time" for an hour to finish watching "Madagascar 2" with his brother.

You know that fine line between "gifting" and "bribery"? I'm not above straddling it.

Guess What Fantastic Items Arrived Today In.......

My mailbox:



(Yeah baby, those are our Utah Football Season Tickets. GO UTES!!!!!!)

And in my Inbox:




Sorry Max Hall- it was too good to pass up :)