Many Girl’s Nights Out for This Mama!

A special thanks to everyone who talked me off the ledge. My frustrations are not with the many wonderful bloggers who have become part of my circle but the people I already know in real life who have left me out of it. I’m not fixing to quit anytime soon but I just don’t understand the dynamic. I’m jealous of those folks who have real-life friends who have become active bloggers so they can share that with them.

And to the lurkers who came forward to say “hi–thanks! I don’t expect everyone who visits to leave a comment because that would be millions and millions tens and tens of them. I like to visit those who come visit me and I went through a stage when I was obsessed with receiving oodles of comments but it was nearly impossible to keep up with them all. Just not worth it. So, thanks to those who keep tuning in to read about the Crazy Crew!

In other matters, The Hurricane had her first soccer game ever on Saturday. BHAHAHHAHA. Details forthcoming.

Oh, and I partied a lot last week. On Wednesday, Mile High Mamas was invited to an exclusive preview of Colorado Ballet’s new season. It was their dress rehearsal and I’m not sure what I was expecting. Certainly not the male danseur who was dressed down in an ensemble that looked suspiciously like Bode’s flannel PJs or the other guy whose sweats had a hole in the crotch.

It was ballet like I’ve never seen before.

Thursday was Enrichment Night at the church. The topic? Self-esteem. They kept the topic a secret because well, we’re all too lacking in self-esteem to be reminded that we don’t have it and would not have shown up. The night was soooo cheeseball but really well done. We broke off into two classes and had the cutest Size 2 shop-a-holic try to convince a group of frumpy housewives to spice up their wardrobe. It worked. I went shopping the next morning. Jamie says he plans to bill her later.

The other class was yoga. This is where the comedic value kicked in and I internally laughed my butt off at how ridiculous we all looked trying to awkwardly contort our bodies. One thing’s for sure: I won’t ever look at these women normally again without thinking, “Hey, nice downward dog.”

Because isn’t that what every ward needs to bond?

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