Dear Mr. Smiley,

It was such a fun little morning surprise to see you.

Chas loves making the bed.

Dear crock pot,

Just because I came home at 9pm after teaching at UVU all day, doesn't mean we can't have a nice, warm dinner ready to eat.

Thanks to you, me, and Chas all working together, the white bean chicken chili was da bomb diggity.

What an unbeatable team the three of us are.

Dear dining room,

You da, you da best.

Dear littlest sister,

You are an artist in the making. So proud of you.

Currently showing at the Salt Lake City downtown library.

Dear homeboy,

Yo, why you gots to be so gansta?

(at Cabella's Saturday night)

Dear diary,

I feel so amazingly blessed. Lately, Chas and I will just look at each other and yell, in unison, "We have the best life ever!" It's actually starting to slowly morph into a little song as well. And, the thing is, we kinda really do have the best life ever.

Yesterday was a very happy day because yesterday Chas made not just one, but two major breakthroughs on the job front. Both places are offering him on-call work with the potential for a more full-time gig. But both jobs have enough projects going for him to work at least 40 hours a week. 

Job #1 is a production company called Universal Post. I dropped him off this morning for his first day, singing "Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to work I go!" as we drove. He'll be editing corporate videos and commercials for the next two weeks. Job #2 is with the church and he'll be assisting the creator of Mormon Messages. Pretty legit, right? Again, he'll be mostly editing but also helping out on shoots as well. Basically, Chas is just a film editor in high demand. Everyone wants a piece of his skillz. All of this makes our bank account (which has been pretty sad lately) a much happier camper.

I could end here. But, believe it or not, there's more.

Yesterday, I found out that I am going to be picking up a few day's worth of permanent groups at the hospital. This is also very happy because I've been working solely on an on-call basis which causes for a very hit-or-miss kind of week, work-wise. But now, I have a set schedule of groups every Monday and Friday and will also take on an evening family group with the adolescent inpatient unit as well. It'll be so nice to have more of a constant presence at the hospital. I really do love it there. Everyone is so gracious and supportive of one another. And then there's that whole bit about me getting to practice art therapy- that thing I killed myself for two years to learn how to do. I feel so lucky to be an art therapist and first-hand witness to the deep, meaningful breakthroughs that occur with patients in groups. I know I describe everything from puppies to Ranch dressing as being magical but art therapy really is the most magical of all.

Ok, ok. Second most magical. Because, let's be honest, me and Chas' life together is numero uno.

Dear Bret & Jemaine,

When I was first introduced to Flight of the Conchords last year, I'll be honest, I thought you were kinda overrated. But you must have grown on me because Chas and I just can't seem to leave Blockbuster without one of your seasons on DVD in hand.

Last night, I'm pretty sure we perfected the way to watch you two: snuggled up in a blanket with bowls of ice cream. Thanks for the good times, guys.

 

Because there really ain't no party like your grandma's tea party. Hey. Ho. 

P.S. My favorite lyric of all-time? 

"Some people say that we are not rappers. We are rappers. Some people say that rappers don't have feelings. We do have feelings. It hurts our feelings when people say we are not rappers."

Dear diary,

I know I am kinda constantly saying this either to myself or others but it is so crazy to see how fast and how drastically your world can change. Just last night I was sitting next to Chas, eating tomato soup and corn muffins for dinner, when I started to think of what my life was like exactly one year ago.

Exactly 365 days ago I was living in Oregon by myself in my little yellow cottage. I had waken up early to go out shooting guns with a boy and his friends. We spent that snowy morning up in the mountains blowing up gasoline cans. At one point, we all spray painted little cardboard targets with someone's name (of our choosing) in the center. I will say this: I never thought I could unleash an entire round of bullets in a 22 pistol so quickly. Nor did I ever think it would feel so totally...satisfying. I kept that little makeshift target with all its bullet holes pinned to my fridge from that day on.

After coming home, I decided to celebrate this particularly epic Valentine's Day by going out and buying some hott perfume for myself. As I headed to the mall, I cranked up Foo Fighter's "Times Like These" and drove especially fast (just to feel the freedom/independence/danger).

Later, a boy dropped by to give me an apple pie with "Sam" written across the top in whipping cream.

That night, a little reluctantly, I hit up the tri-stake Salem young single adults Valentine's dinner and dance. It was everything you'd expect. If you were in attendance, you fell into one of two categories. Either 1. you were only there because you had nothing else to do and the thought of sitting home, alone drowning your sorrows in Ben & Jerry's was only slightly less appealing or 2. you and your cutie had been looking forward to this night for a few weeks now and have subsequently shown up in your most beautiful purple satin prom dress with your guy in something approaching very near to tuxedo territory (top hat and cane optional but definately encouraged). Please know that I was in that first group of people. Also know that "Cotton-Eyed Joe," a wild few rounds of limbo, and trying to always avoid that alarmingly creepy kid (did he really just say he's 18 years old!?) whenever a slow jam started characterized the evening.

Upon returning home, I found a bouquet of flowers waiting for me on my doorstep. I never did find out who that secret admirer was.

And now, one year later?

I'm sitting in my little Avenues apartment in Salt Lake City, writing in this blog, while my old friend and now husband, Chas Kelly, is cooking gorgonzola potato gnocchi.

Dear my Valentine forever,

Thanks for making our first Feb. 14th (celebrated early) so fantabulous.

Your real-life Italian carbonara pasta was the most yummy to date.

And this movie was so magical. Sweetest, cutest depiction of marriage ever. End of story.

Oh yeah, Elder Jeffery R. Holland and his wife were totally sitting one row behind us. And, after the movie, Chas helped Sister Holland look for her lost glove. No biggie.

And last, but not least, I will never get tired of eating at Settebello's Pizzeria- even if we just go for the gelato

and italian sodas.

So much Italian food/dessert, darling movie, and an apostle.

Could there be a better V-Day date night? Doubt it. 

Thanks for being mine, Mr. Chas Kelly.

Dear unemployment,

There are obviously many, many things we don't like about Chas not having full-time work right now. That's not to say, however, that there aren't things we kinda love about you: 

1. We rarely get out of bed before 9am. 

2. We eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner together everyday.

3. We spend the vast majority of our days right next to each other. 

Sometimes I feel lazy and like I should be accomplishing more when I'm not teaching at UVU or getting called in to work at the hospital. But mostly I keep reminding myself that I should just soak all this Sam-&-Chas mellow time up while I can because it will never be like this again. At least not until we're a gma and gpa retired in Flordia.

Dear living room,

Your cuteness makes me and Chas ridiculously happy.

Probably at least once a day, either one or both of us will yell, "Look at how cute/awesome/legit everything looks!"

Yeah, we really, really dig your interior design sauce.

Dear old roommate, Meg,

You are a graphic design queen. And a generous one at that. When I asked you for your skills in helping create this birthday present for Chas, I never thought it would turn out so totally rad. (Except for, I actually did think it would be this cool because, let's face it, you are a design whiz kid.)

There's a little story behind this image:

Chas grew up listening to and loving a band called, They Might Be Giants. You may have heard of them, but probably not. As for me, let's just say I'm not TMBG's biggest fan. There are two very notable exceptions, however. One being a song entitled "Women & Men" which the Kelly boys did an amazing rendition of (complete with accordian and euphonium) at our Communal wedding luncheon. By the end of the song, we were all in shambles. Not a dry eye in the house.

Exception #2 is a song about New York City. I don't think I've ever actually heard the song in its entirety, just the chorus. For a few months now, Chas and I have both had the chorus as eachother's  ringtones because the line "but the best thing about New York City is you and me," is about us. So the plan is to get this sucka blown up big, big then printed and framed in our living room.

Happy, happy birthday, Chazzy boy!

Dear marriage,

It's been a little over a week and you are everything I always thought and wanted you to be.

I cooked a real dinner (sloppy joe's and steamed veggies) last night for the first time. I still don't like cooking (at all) but I did it because I love Chas. I love him so much I find myself grinding my teeth sometimes when I look at him (which, coincidentally, is the same response that is evoked in me whenever I see a puppy who's so cute I almost can't handle it). I told Chas this recently and I'm not sure he understood that what I was really trying to express was that sometimes I can't handle how much I adore him. Instead, he likely thinks that he's a cutie little pup in my eyes. Which, let's be honest, isn't the worst thing in the world.

So I will continue making dinners for this boy. In fact, I spent a good deal of time with my mom yesterday working out a list of yummy meals that revolve around food storage. So far, I've got two weeks worth of recipes and purchased ingredients down. Tomorrow night is white bean chicken chili with chips, avocado, and sour cream garnish. Yup, it must be love.

Dear sisters,

You can never have too many.

Dear Provo Orem Word,

Thanks a bazillion for choosing my very own "Flying Dad" to be on the cover of your first issue!

This is the contributor's page. Anyone recognize that face on the far, far right?

On Saturday, Chas and I hit up the official launch party of the magazine at Communal. CJane blogged about attending the event as well and said that she felt , "a little out of place as Provo's finest writers and culture pioneers came in through the door. It was as if we were watching the red carpet arrivals in Provo's cultural scene."

Ummm...can I just say a few things here?

1. I'll admit, a few faces looked familiar to me at the party BUT...

2. When the editor of this new magazine contacted me about being on the cover of the first issue because I am "a well-respected artist in the community and being on the cover would give the magazine a lot of clout," I never ever thought it was that legit. (I mean, my work giving something clout?) But then I went to the launch party and thought to myself, "Hey self, there are a lot of pretty awesome-seeming people here. This whole thing might be a little bigger deal than you had originally thought." And then I read CJane's assessment of the party/people in attendance. And now I know, The Provo Orem Word is too legit to quit.

3. Having said all that, it gives me proud little butterflies inside my tummy knowing that in the midst of all these "red carpet" peeps of the Provo cultural scene, my- yes, MY- painting is on the cover!

The original "Flying Dad" hung in Communal for the launch party Saturday. Assuming it would be taken down immediately afterwards, I crossed my fingers that it might stay up for dinner and the duration of the night. Then I got an email from Communal's curator informing me that he had wanted the painting to get more exposure so he left up during dinner that night AND AND AND will let it hang for a while longer as well!

 

Holy crap.

So if you're in Utah Valley, go to Communal. You'll eat the best food the area has to offer AND see my painting hanging next to an original Brian Kershisnik piece! (Happy squeals!)

Dear Draper Temple,

It took us a while to decide which temple to get married in but we are so glad we chose you. Your large sealing room was perfect. Those tall windows, all that light streaming in, the high ceilings, all our loved ones sitting there, waiting for us to walk in! I've never felt so happy giddy. Ever. (In fact, I almost skipped to the altar.)

As we walked out your doors, as an official married couple, Chas picked me up and gave me the bestest twirling hug he's ever given me. The perfect start to our new life together!

Don't you just love this boy in his 3-piece skinny suit?

More photos to come as soon as we get them from the photograher!

Dear family,

I love you, and you, and you, and you, and you.

But mostly, YOU.

Dear food at Communal wedding luncheon,

I had heard many, many times that Communal was good- "best in Ptown," even. But seriously? Where have you been all my life?! Everything tasted like it was slow roasted in...a pot of butter. So, so yummy in my tummy.

More pictures of the luncheon to come but, let's get real, this food deserved its own, seperate post. Bless you, Communal cooks. Bless you.