Thursday, July 26, 2012


My sister and I dressed as adorable gingham pioneers.
Because blogging is all about masochistic self-promotion, I thought that today I would tell you about a little performance I am taking place in tomorrow (Friday, 7/27) in Salt Lake City at the Sunstone Symposium. It's called 'The Mormon Vagina Testimonies.' It's obviously a Mormon version of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues

While preparing for my own monologue, it got me thinking about my own place in Mormonism. I don't have much to say on this, because it is quite personal to me. Have I been to church in years? No. Except for an occasional special Sunday or event. It stopped feeling like the place for me to be. It was a bad fit. I struggled for a long time with the religion and once, a friendly neighbor suggested that the best way to handle my problems was to "put them on a shelf." I took his advice. But instead of just putting a few things up on the shelf, I put everything. Right now all of my thoughts and feelings about Mormonism are up there on the top shelf where I can't reach them. And I am okay with that. People try to get me to define where I am on the Mormon Spectrum. Am I an ex-mormon, an inactive, a post-mormon, a mormon on the cusp of returning to activity? And all I say is, 'I'm on the spectrum.' That is enough for me. My entire family, way back to the pioneers who settled here in Utah, were Mormon. It's in my DNA. I am Mormon enough to know how to make funeral potatoes without a recipe, but not Mormon enough to believe in convoluted dogma.

One of my favorite writers is Joanna Brooks. Maybe you've heard her on NPR or seen her on CNN. She is a media favorite for answering eloquently and simply the weirder questions people have about Mormonism. She has a very inclusive heart when it comes to all the different types of Mormons. Her book The Book of Mormon Girl is perfect for anyone who considers themselves on the spectrum. The book is also perfect for those who do not know much about our culture/religion and are tired of getting shock-value information.

Recently Joanna commissioned me for a few samplers: Never underestimate a Mormon girl.

Tomorrow, I am standing up in front of a hundred or so people and telling everybody about my uterus. I may use props, the same way I always did when I taught lessons to the children at church. I may look childish, confused. I may talk down to you. I am doing all of these things on purpose and don't you dare underestimate me.

If you are not one of my close family members (don't come! you will freak me out! don't worry though! I am not talking about you!) and are interested in coming, The Vagina Testimonies are at: 

The University of Utah’s Olpin Student Union

200 S. Central Campus Drive, Salt Lake City 84112

To just see Mo Vadge, tickets are $7 and can be purchased at the door. I hope to see you there!

Here is some Mo Info:
Sunstone has reserved University of Utah parking Lot 24 for Symposium attendees; parking here is FREE to Sunstone attendees on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of the symposium. The University WILL be ticketing in other parking lots on weekdays, so make sure you park in the lot we've reserved.

Lot 24 is southeast of the Tanner Humanities Building (CTIHB) and opens onto Wasatch Drive. Take North Campus Drive or Mario Capecchi Drive to Wasatch Drive. Lot 24 has two entrances—one before you get to the McCarthy Track & Field Complex (you’ll drive through Lot 25 to get to Lot 24) and a second entrance at Ballif Road just past the McCarthy Track & Field Complex. (There’s a map on page 47 of the program.)

Attendees may also pay to park in the Visitors Lot directly east of the Union building. This lot charges by the hour with a maximum of $10 per day. It is the closest lot to the Union and has designated handicapped parking spaces.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Dear Skippy from TLC's 'Virgin Diaries' I really hope you google yourself so that you read this:

Dear Skippy,

I watched TLC's show 'Virgin Diaries' last night, and I just want to say first, that I like you, Skippy. I really do. And your mom is so cute that I want to fold her up like a travel brush and put her in my purse pocket. That being said, I think that maybe you are just a wee bit off course in trying to land a Utah county Mormon lady. As a Utah county girl who is practically the same age as you (go AF '94!) and knows the travails of local mormon-flavored dating, I feel like I know what I am talking about. I want to help you. Take my help, Skippy. Take it.

Let's start off with the things I really like about you.

  1. Your glasses. They are cool.
  2. Your t-shirt approach to life. I like that you project your personality through the medium of t-shirts. It's like, 'hey! Here I am! Take me or leave me! Oh, you're leaving me? WHY? Is it the t-shirt?!' (Also, I really need to score a good deal on some tees myself. Who's your shirt guy. Message me!)
  3. Your friends. They genuinely like you and wish you well. Good job scoring good friends. That says a lot about you.
  4. Your 'hair dryer to dry off the sweat' technique. I really like that. I might use that myself sometime. Being sweaty is seriously yuck. I think your solution is ingenious.
  5. Your sad sad vulnerable honesty. That is a very priceless and remarkable quality in a man. It reminds me of my favorite set of magnets:

MEN CRYING magnets

Let's move on to the things that are more difficult to hear. But you are ready for change? Right, Skippy? Right. Here goes.

  1. Never ever ever EVER let someone film you while doing the 'shake weight.' EVER.
  2. The screw-top mason jar full of your belly-button lint. I am indeed impressed with the dedication to your, ahem, collection. But, at some point you need to realize that you can either hold the jar of body lint or boobies. But not both at the same time. It will never happen. I say, take that jar and bury it in the woods somewhere, and then maybe, in like fifty years, when you are surrounded by grandkids, you can give them a shovel and a treasure map and scare the crap out of them. 
  3. What is with the dating of the super young size 4 hotties who work at Buckle in the Orem mall? Geeze, Skippy. It is insulting. I am your age. Go and look at a picture of me. This is more the type of lady that you should be aiming for. I, alas, am unavailable, so sadly I cannot go on a date with you and get the 'Skippy is my friend' t-shirt (which I assure you, grieves me to no end). But I'm not a size 4. And I look just this side of 'used up.' But you get what I'm saying. Do not date these young nubile girls. It makes you look predatory and pervy. Go out and find a real woman. 
  4. Never serenade or let someone else serenade your date. That scene of that guy playing the guitar and singing at you and your date in your mom's basement? Do I need to say it, Skippy? AWKWARD. The worst dates I ever went on involved serenading of some sort. It is beyond uncomfortable on the receiving end. And I swear if I ever hear about you singing a rock ballad cover of a hymn on a date, I will cut you, Skippy. Cut you.
  5. Your mom. There. I said it. You are way way WAY too close to your mom. You live in her basement. She goes on dates with you?! NO SKIPPY NOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! 

If you want to talk about any of this with me in person, Skippy, I would love that! I want to buy you a burger at the Purple Turtle. Heck, I'll even throw in a to-go bag of tater tots for your mom. Let's lunch, Skippy. I'll make you an embroidery of anything you want. 

The Cotton Floozy

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

July, I fight your soul sucking super powers! I fight!


I recently fell and cracked the back of my head on a very large rock. Adding a head injury to my typical bad mood in July is like adding vinegar to puke salad. I have weird memory gaps. For the first few days, I walked like I was on a boat, clutching furniture items to stabilize me. I slurred my speech. One of my friends thought that maybe I had 'gone retarded' and that was okay, because she promised to wipe the drool off my face and take me to Disneyland with my entitled wheelchair pass, which everyone knows is the best thing ever, because you get to cut the lines.

I still might occasionally have random weirdness shooting out from my limbs or my mouth or my unmentionables. (Just kidding, about that last bit. No uterus, remember?) So, please forgive me. Right now my head feels like a bowling ball filled with neon cement. I get these occasional jolts of real pain and sudden-without-warning flash-floods of depression. BUT I WILL FIGHT IT. It super helps to not have a uterus this summer. The thought of adding PMDD to this month is simply mind-blowing. No PMDD! I fight you, July! 

Part of me just wants to sit around and embroider sad clowns while watching Hoarders on Netflix, but you know what? I am getting out. I am taking my kids to their swim lessons. I am going out to eat with visiting family. I am stitching always stitching. Yesterday, I had one of those sudden unexpected mood plunges, and this quote popped into my head.

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

Isn't that the best? It's from Kurt Vonnegut's book Slaughterhouse Five.

To all of my friends, family members, and loved ones right now who are struggling, I want you to simply say this phrase in your head. Feel its magic. If I could, I would take away the hurt. But I can't. The best I can do is wipe away the drool and promise to take you Disneyland.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Probably the weirdest billboard ever.

I haven't been writing much lately. July has been crammed with summer thangs. The fourth of July. Taking the kids swimming multiple times. My mom finished her last chemo therapy treatment! And a local arsonist set 6 fires in the last week near our house. We were evacuated in the middle of the night once. It was surprisingly not that big of a deal to us. The arsonist was caught. He was an 18 year old volunteer firefighter. Nice.

So to tide you over until I get back into my mode of awesome, here is the weirdest billboard in Utah.


It is so chock full of randomness. It makes me smile.