Saturday, December 1, 2007

Something About Fridays

There is something about every Friday that fucks with me. If I knew why, I probably wouldn't be writing this blog. Yesterday however, took f'ed up Fridays to a whole new level.

I went to see Louis XIV perform at the Rio Thursday night and while driving home there was an eerie fog over the city. The top of Mandalay Bay was actually invisible, hidden by clouds. It was beautiful in a creepy way. When when I woke up Friday morning I went to the window wondering if there might be snow on the trees...I LIVE IN LAS VEGAS. What was I thinking?? I have greater odds of being dealt a royal flush on a video poker machine than I do of finding snow on trees here in November. However, it was raining like hell which is also something quite rare.
So I went off to work in the rain and haze and I don't usually work on Fridays but it's mortgage week and I needed to make up for having Thanksgiving weekend off. In the break room was a plate full of these tiny lime-looking fruits. They were certainly citrus but I had no clue what they were. I snacked on these little things all day and eventually learned that I had been eating kumquats. Go ahead and laugh and say that wasn't the first time I had a kumquat---ha ha, right, whatever. Someone needs to re-name that fruit.

After work, I drove to the Tropicana Hotel where they were auditioning for the TV show Don't Forget The Lyrics. From the day it started I said, "That show is for me! I have to get on that show!" I get so annoyed when I see cover bands around town and the singer gets the words wrong. The Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin has to be the most botched song of all time by lame cover bands. I pride myself on knowing the words to everything. It drives me crazy if I can't figure out the words to a song and have Googled more song lyrics than anything else over the years. So I bravely walked into that audition and filled out ridiculous amounts of questionnaires. After waiting 30 minutes for my interview, I became very tired and bored. I didn't even have nervous energy. So by the time my interview came up I appeared much like a depressed lump and I could not snap out of it. I needed a coffee fairy! Despite my suddenly melancholy mood, I belted out a Butch Walker song and "Stone In Love" by Journey. The interviewer said I was a pretty good singer and I definitely have no problem with lyrics but they're looking for a bouncy, animated person with a lot of energy. (Nobody told me that.) So the insane amount of music knowledge I have, plus the fact that I can sing well, and that I'm not so bad looking was still not enough to get me a spot on the show because I don't have a bubbly personality. You know what??
FUCK PEOPLE WITH BUBBLY PERSONALITIES!
So I went home and watched the only band I liked (Tres Bien) on Next Great American Band get voted off and then watched this bubbly little contestant bitch on Don't Forget The Lyrics NOT know the words to "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner. I almost threw a candy dish at the TV.

On my way to work at Beauty Bar later that night I could see that Mandalay Bay was still lost in clouds. The MGM was making one whole section of sky glow bright green. I got to work late, which I've never done before. The bar was slow and I was hoping to leave early but then a nice (although extremely drunk) woman with Billy Idol hair sat in my chair. As we talked I found out that she was from Hollywood and lived in the same townhouse building as 4 of my friends. She called over her whole group and they reveled in amazement the rest of the night at how I knew so many of the same people that they knew. By this time I decided I must surely be in the Twilight Zone.

When I finally got to bed that night I was so thankful that this bizarre day was over...but wait...it wasn't! I woke up 2 hours later to a text message and decided since I was awake I'd get up and pee. I guess I wasn't awake enough to realize my leg was asleep. I took one step out of bed, my leg buckled and I fell flat on the floor, cell phone still in hand. I hit my iron night stand with my thigh and I guess I didn't really feel it much since my leg was numb. While on the floor I read the text message from my friend Adam that made no sense, something about being nice to meet me...wrong number I guess?? I dragged myself to the bathroom, managed to get my leg working again and got back in bed.

When I woke up Saturday morning to that bright gorgeous Las Vegas sunshine, the only thing left to remind me of the most fucked up day I've ever had is this blue bruise on my thigh.

Kumquats!

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Me...The Lonely Ghost

There are lots of reasons I haven't been around lately. These reasons have been brewing for a year and I'm tired. I'm so tired of so many things...

I decided in October that I'm indefinitely boycotting concerts. I am beyond sick of paying exorbitant concert ticket prices. Never in my life have I ever missed the following performers when they've been through town: Collective Soul, Marilyn Manson, Alice In Chains. I missed all of them in one month's time and it would have cost me over $200. Not to mention I would have also liked to have seen Tommy Shaw and Jack Blades when they were here, add another $35. There were a handfull of small shows as well like Winger, Warrant, Kings of Leon, add $65. That doesn't even include having a couple beers at each show. So yes, I missed them all in just 8 weeks. I've been wondering for years why I can't ever seem to get my credit cards paid off and now I know. I just paid one off last week. If I continue the boycott I'll have the other one paid in a few months. By not being a slave to concerts I have broken the chains of credit card debt.

For the last part of 2006 and majority of 2007 I have spent most of my time with guy friends instead of girlfriends. Having Morpheus as my "out on the scene" buddy from December-February, Tore as a companion through March and Mark as a boyfriend from April-October, it was easy to justify. Now that they've all moved on or moved away I'm back to rolling solo again and I have to face the disappointing truth about my dear girlfriends.

I find a great friend every few years...Christina, Andrea, Stefanie...and then they move away. I will never understand why the people I get the closest to never stay in Las Vegas.
Some of the girlfriends I have now are such beautiful people and I want nothing more than to be closer to them but because they have husbands/families, or spend all their free time at concerts that I can't afford (or more often listen to bands I simply don't like), or they have hobbies that I can't participate in like motorcycling, they are not always able nor comfortable with going places that I like or doing things I do. I wish I could find a way to spend more time with them somehow without feeling like a 3rd wheel or spending a ton of money on activities that I'm not into.
Other girlfriends I've had are either competitive & self centered or complete whores that get their self worth out of fucking everyone so that you literally can't go anywhere and actually meet a guy they haven't been with. If I were to go by the rule of not taking interest in a guy because one of my friends fucked him/dated him then that would rule out pretty much every single guy everywhere I go, even guys in other cities.
So, this is why I roll solo. For some reason I am unable to find female friends who like the same music/hangouts that I do or who aren't whores on a mission to create pissing territories everywhere.

Sometimes you might see me floating like a ghost all alone on a downtown street, or standing in a corner with a beer nodding my head to the music. I'll be taking applications for friends who have morals, a positive attitude, who like the groovy alternative rock bands, who like meeting up for dinner or coffee before going out, who can have a good time without getting plastered drunk and who have something else to talk about besides who they fucked last week.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

A Lesson In Appreciation

Back in Indiana I have a best friend named Vikie. Vikie and I have lived parallel lives for the past 20 years. We always seem to be going through similar experiences at the same time. For example, the day before I jumped on a plane to start a new life and be self-employed in Las Vegas, I helped her paint the walls of a new salon that she would soon be opening. During my most recent visit with beloved Vikie I learned that her life was going in a completely different direction than mine for the first time ever. I took a look around me and felt like I had fallen into stagnant waters. With the way I set my life up I have already reached the "glass ceiling" and can't get any further. I'm stuck with no way to achieve my future goals without sacrifices that wouldn't be worth it. I went into panic mode--a full blown mid-life crisis. I had myself so stressed out that the veins in my neck were twitching and throbbing visibly. I've never felt this helpless and hopeless. I felt like I once again wasted more years of my life on bad decisions.

Mark and I took a trip to Hollywood a couple weeks ago. When I got to the intersection of Ventura Blvd & Coldwater Canyon, I burst into happy tears, rambling on about how much I love this place, I wish I could live here, I'm so happy to be back, etc. Wow, that came outta nowhere. The next day, I met up with Stefanie, my closest friend in L.A. She said to me, "If you want something bad enough in life, you'll do whatever it takes to get it." I am always grateful for her perspective and advise but I came away empty from that conversation. It wasn't until the next day that I suddenly got angry. And that was the answer I was looking for...

Let me just say that I wrote the fucking book on "if you want something bad enough you'll do whatever it takes." Back in Indiana, I left behind a boss that took me for granted, a family that loved me but never understood me, friends I adored but had little in common with and a 9 year relationship with a controlling, abusive guy. I moved to Las Vegas alone, knowing nobody with the goals of being self-employed, owning a home, and finally finding friends that I have things in common with who will understand and accept me. Not only have I accomplished all that but I also netted several bonuses like the privilege of working part time at the Hard Rock Hotel, the excitement of being whisked across the country to spend the Millennium celebration with Collective Soul in Chicago and the unbelievable thrill of hanging out with Robert Plant for an evening.

Although Stefanie's well-meaning advise sent my temper into motion, that's exactly what I needed to remember who I was, where I came from, and what God has allowed me to accomplish thus far. My crisis has gone away, my stress has disappeared. I just needed to stop for a minute and allow myself to be thankful for everything. So what if for the first time in 20 years my peer Vikie and I are not living parallel lives? It doesn't change our friendship! This may not be all that I want for my life right now, but at one point it was, and if I don't appreciate it and be a good steward with the things God has given me, I don't deserve to do any better.

Someday I might just end up living in Studio City, CA with a loyal, honest, artistic Christian man as my husband. But until that or whatever else God has planned for me happens, I'm going to be kicking back in my cozy condo, appreciating the people and things in my life a lot more than I have in a long time. (And after the snotty little outburst I had at my own birthday party last week, this attitude comes not a minute too soon.)

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Concert Review: Jet @ Hard Rock pool 4/2007

I decided that the best thing I've written so far is my review of Jet's concert at the Hard Rock pool this summer. It was originally published online at Glam-Metal.com (http://www.glam-metal.com/jet.html) It was also printed in the June issue of Vegas Rocks Magazine. So I thought I would share it here as well, minus the photos. Enjoy...

On April 27th Jet took the stage again in Las Vegas, this time at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino pool. I was so thankful to be in the front row since the Hard Rock crammed so many fans into the pool area I was almost afraid to look behind me! If you really crave guitar driven rock, the live show from this 4 piece Australian band will hit the spot every time. This performance, although shorter than their usual set, was no exception.
Jet hit the stage with a squealing guitar opening with "That's All Lies" from their newest album, Shine On. If drummer Chris Cester's pounding industrial machinery beat on this song doesn't get you moving, nothing will. They continued their groovy guitar rock onslaught with "Get What You Need", "Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is"--undeniably the best song on the new album, "Holiday", "Rollover DJ" and finally reaching the height of heaviness with "Take It or Leave It" *whew* before slowing down the pace with "Look What You've Done", their Beatles-esque hit ballad from the first album, Get Born.
I always get goosebumps when the crowd sings along with a great rock ballad. One slow song was enough for Jet tonight as they obviously came to rock! The second I heard bass player Mark Wilson jingling the tambourine I knew what was coming next...my favorite Jet song "Are You Gonna Be My Girl! The fans around me were singing every word, chicks on the cabana level were all dancing. From there they went into "Last Chance" and "Rip It Up". Is there no end to the solid catchy groovy guitar hooks from guitarist Cam Muncey? Let's hope not. And of course, it wouldn't be a Jet show without vocalist/guitarist Nic Cester climbing on top of any sturdy thing that he can find. Tonight he found his way to the roof of the sound booth! I was getting exhausted just watching him running around everywhere. He has a such a confident and comfortable stage presence that really commands attention and that's a mark of a truly great frontman.
At last they finally played arguably their biggest hit so far, "Cold Hard Bitch" a song which is unmistakably recognizable from the first note. Even the sticky 90 degree Las Vegas heat wasn't stopping this crowd from going crazy! Next they played "Stand Up" from the new album, a song that's not only personally motivating and to me but I also just love that Zeppelin inspired riff! They closed the show appropriately with "Get Me Outta Here". Because of the strict rules of the Hard Rock, they could only perform one hour instead of the usual hour and a half plus and so there was unfortunately no encore.
I stuck around after the show talking with Gilby Clarke's sister Michelle just long enough to spot guitarist Cam Muncey mingling in what was left of the crowd. He's my favorite member of Jet so I couldn't pass up this opportunity. I'm such a sucker for talent and a pretty face. He was so kind and spoke with us for quite a while. Aside from mentioning how he wasn't looking forward to his ears popping all the way to Denver the next day he also said that this would probably be their last tour of the States for a while as they were ready to work on a new album. I sure hope they'll come back with more meaty riffs and big hits like the tunes on Get Born. Thanks to Jet for an incredible evening and for keeping the rock n roll torch shining bright. Shine On!

Monday, July 30, 2007

Memoir #2 ~Guns N Roses 1988~

"Hey lady you got the love I need~maybe more than enough~oh darlin darlin darlin walk a while with me~oh you've got so much..."
July 30, 1988 
In the summer of 1988, a few friends and I took a long road trip to Val-Du-Lakes Amphitheatre in Mears, Michigan to see my new favorite band, Guns N Roses, who were the opening act for an old favorite band, Aerosmith. We arrived very early and wandered around the grounds in the sweltering heat. I walked up a hill with a friend hoping for a better vantage point to view the area where the bands' tour buses were parked behind a tall fence. At that moment a bus door opened and someone came out. The next thing I knew, Guns N Roses' guitarist Izzy Stradlin was propped up over the top of the fence pointing at me and wiggling his finger to come over. I looked all around me in disbelief but he really was pointing at me! I ran down the hill to the spot where he instructed security to let me through. We spent the afternoon talking to each other through the fence. Security wouldn't let him take me to the other side without a pass so he sent a crew guy to find one. Izzy kept running back and forth from the bus like a show and tell, displaying clothes and jewelry he'd bought on tour and telling me stories about some of the places he'd been. We had to tilt our heads slightly to see each other clearly through the fence. I was entranced by his eyes, glowing with the most magical olive and amber tones I had ever seen, as the glaring sun reflected down into them. I remember at one point he asked a road crew guy to help him rip the tag off his brand new pair of black jeans. His personality was bouncy and silly and uninhibited. We could pass things back and forth through the fence and touch each others hands but it was torture...or maybe it was like a teasing foreplay buildup...that neither of us was allowed to go to the other's side. Finally, right before he had to be on stage, one sticky pass was found and given to me.

My friends and I went out into the crowd and watched the show. It was a typical Guns N Roses live performance for that time--really bare bones, raw and raunchy sounding. This was only a short time before GnR Lies was released and they tried out a few songs none of us had heard before called "One In A Million" "Used To Love Her" & "Patience". The crowd, which was much bigger than the venue anticipated, went nuts and began tearing down a chain link fence that separated the VIP section from the GA section. It was scary. My friend Jynni and I were in a crush of people and had lost track of the friends we came there with. The agreement was for the car to be our meeting place if we lose each other. When the time came for me to go meet Izzy backstage, I was really scared. I was taking a big risk leaving my friends behind--we didn't have cell phones back then, you know!

Sure enough, Izzy was there at the fence waiting for me. As he was digging for the bus key in his pocket, he unknowingly dropped guitar picks in a trail behind him (and I tried to be sneaky and pick them up). Something about that was incredibly adorable to me. This must have been during a short sober faze because he had no drugs or alcohol and he offered me a 7up to drink on the bus. I think Aerosmith had a strict no drugs policy on that tour perhaps? He showed me more stuff he'd collected on the road and some live photos of Guns & Roses in LA. He had me pick out a photo and on the back of it he wrote "to Cari with lust...Izzy." He kept playing with my hair, piling it all up on top of my head then leaning back to look at me. Was he trying to see how I would look with an up do?? So playful and lovable, that Izzy. He told me his real name and that he grew up just a couple hours south of where I was from in Indiana. He talked about all his hats and how he wanted to buy more but hat boxes take up way too much space. He had just gotten the newly released Cinderella tape "Long Cold Winter" and put it on. We were having some serious music and philosophy talk and he said that I'm not like the other girls he meets on the road, that I actually have a brain and was really cool to talk to. He had me write my contact info in an address book for him.

At one point he started to kiss me but I was chewing gum and had yet to master the art of making out with gum in my mouth, so in a very parental way he put out his hand for me to spit it into and went to throw it away. Hello awkward moment! I couldn't have felt less sexy. Then again, what does a 17 year old really know about sexy anyway? For the sake of Mr. Stradlin's privacy, I will refrain from sharing the intimate details of our sexual encounter. I will, however, say that I was a clueless, naive little Indiana girl who had no idea what I was doing. Izzy, on the other hand, being almost 9 years older than I was, knew exactly how to do it right and I learned a thing or two. Izzy was a vision of perfection, with such smooth skin and a youthful god-like body, wide shoulders and a narrow waist. It was while he was laying back that I noticed for the first time his beautiful mouth, delicate, sweet and angelic, curled upwards slightly at the corners. Izzy and I had a lot of fun and even took a little nap as the summer heat had worn us out. We kept getting pestered by Steven Adler (whom he lovingly referred to as "Stevie"). Steven was bouncing around excitedly, pounding on the bus windows yelling that there were 14,000 people in the crowd! This must have been one of the biggest crowds they'd ever played for at that time.

It was dark by now and Izzy changed into some running pants and a jean jacket and we went outside for a walk on that perfect, magical, warm summer night with the full moon over our heads. We stopped by the hospitality tent for some pizza and there were Slash & Duff, kickin' back on a sofa having a deep conversation about drugs. Ok, now I was starstruck, and I stood there staring like a dumbass.
Duff: "You still have that shit man? What are you saving it for? If I had that *sssssnniiiiifff* it woulda been gone a long time ago!" Slash: "You can't do that much, man. You only need a little bit." I interrupted with "Slash, dude, you are so cool." (Somebody shoot me! I'm an idiot!)

Slash said "thanks" and Izzy dragged me out of there to the side stage to watch Aerosmith's encore under that amazing full summer moon. I'd never seen so many people in one place in my life--a sea of faces as far as the eye could see! Standing on the stage just a few feet from Joe Perry, I could imagine how it felt to be a rock star. Suddenly I realized in that moment that out of the 14,000 fans in that crowd, I was the only one backstage. Why me? And that's when the magic feeling came over me, showering me like fairy dust...Why not me?! I was different. I wasn't like anyone I knew, not family nor friends--no one I knew saw the world the way I did. I realized that for the first time, I was amongst my peers there backstage. And if I had the privilege of spending a day with the hottest band in the country at age 17, someday I would be doing a lot of other cool things all the while making my own dreams come true too!

Izzy asked me to ride on the bus with them to Cincinnati, but in the days before cell phones, I had no way to reach my parents back home nor my friends who were waiting in the massive parking lot to make the 3 hour drive home with me. What if I ditched everyone only to have the band's management say "no way, this groupie is not riding the bus with us!" and then I'd be stranded in a field in the middle of nowhere. What if I ditched everyone and they thought I got abducted and called the police? The deep shit I would have been in from every angle. I was helpless. He begged a security officer that was on a horse to escort me to the car--maybe I could tell my friends and then go back to meet him--but the "mountie" was a jerk and he refused to help us. I had no choice but to say goodbye and that's my biggest regret to this day. I'll always wonder about all the "what ifs".

The phone woke me up the next morning and it was Izzy. It sounded as if he were whispering. He said, "Listen...." I heard him press the play button on a tape player and then heard a clip of "Over The Hills and Far Away" by Led Zeppelin, a band we'd talked much about the night before. Then he clicked the tape off and said, "Bye...." and I never heard from him again.

That one magical summer night is what led me down the path to becoming the independent, confident, dream chasing woman with rose-colored, heart-shaped glasses that I am today. I'd like to thank Izzy for making me feel so special...he might not remember me but I'll never forget him and how for one day I was "one in a million".

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Everything I Need to Know I Learned From a Flight Attendant

You know when you're on an airplane and the flight attendants go through their routine information about seat belts and emergency exits? Most people don't pay much attention but there is a valuable life lesson hidden in all that safety info. In an emergency, the oxygen masks will drop from the ceiling and you are instructed to secure your own mask before helping others with theirs. I think that advise can be extended to everyday life! If I don't take care of myself first, how can I be of good use to anyone else? For example, if I don't stop in the middle of my 10 hour work day to leave the salon for a bit and eat lunch, you're going to have a crabby manicurist with a bad attitude by hour 5. (Do your cuticles hurt just thinking about that? haha) If I don't attend to my own emotional needs by spending some time alone thinking, praying, journaling, etc. then how can I be of any support to a friend who wants to talk about her problems? Remember the flight attendant's oxygen mask advise the next time you feel overwhelmed. Make some time to take care of yourself!

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Fast Food Rant

Let's say you go to a fast food joint and want sweetener for your iced tea and ketchup for your french fries. They'll throw sweetener in your bag like they're giving out Halloween candy to the best costumed kid in the neighborhood, yet they'll ration out only 3 ketchups for an entire order of fries like ketchup is some highly valuable commodity. Isn't one packette of sweetener more than enough for even the largest size drink? But how can anyone expect 3 little ketchup packets to cover a huge order of fries? Seriously, do these employees never stop to think about that? I always feel like a jerk when I have to specifically tell them that "one sweetener is enough thank you, but I do need at least 8 ketchups please" like I'm some neurotic control freak ketchup monger. Shouldn't that just be common sense? Or perhaps I'm the dumbass in this equation for eating at fast food restaurants in the first place?

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Memoir #1 ~Kick Axe 1986~

"Please allow me to introduce myself..."

I was born into this world as the love child of two hippie teenagers who hitch-hiked to the Woodstock Festival. I was given up for adoption and grew up in northern Indiana near the border of Michigan. As a small child you could always find me with a radio in one hand and a Barbie doll in the other...I was born fascinated with both music and the beauty industry! Soon the little radio gave way to a big stereo, tons of albums and a guitar and the Barbies succumbed to a drawer full of nail polish and make-up. Although I tried for years to play guitar I finally gave it up, deciding it might be more fun to spend time with people who already knew how to play--and I could grow my nails long again!
Never very starstruck, I always thought of musicians as nothing more than just regular people like me--perhaps a little more exciting to talk to maybe. I liked hanging around talking to them because they were usually either eccentric, flamboyant show-offs or quirky, sensitive deep thinkers. I was not easily intimidated by either personality type and both have a way of making a girl feel like she's the only one in the room. People like that gravitated to me naturally and I to them as well. This innocent and genuine confidence that I displayed around people in the spotlight led me like the pied piper to some of the strangest places...

March 16, 1986
When I was 15 years old, I attended a small rock show--Autograph & Kick Axe--with a friend named Rusty Cobb who now lives in Atlanta and works in Butch Walker's Ruby Red recording studio. After the show, my dad was late picking us up so I walked up to Kick Axe's tour bus and knocked on the door. I just wanted to say "Hi" and tell them they should be the headliner because they're way better and cooler than Autograph! I have no idea why I thought they would care about what I had to say! Sure enough, they opened the door and let me on the bus. Maybe it was luck of the draw that Canadians just happen to be so darn nice and easy to talk to? There was nothing wild, indecent, vulgar or illegal going on, just people drinkin' and talkin' and some people in the back room doing an interview for a high school newspaper (okay, and maybe a little weed smokin' too). I sat there innocently chatting about music with assorted band members and with a really haggard looking woman who might have been their management. "Oh, my dad's here, gotta go! You guys are so cool! Thanks for talkin' to me! Bye!" I jumped off the bus as quickly as I had gotten on, so excited to tell about everything! To my suprise, with the exception of Rusty, I was greeted with jealous stares and whispering. What was the big deal?? (Jeez, it was just Kick Axe. Who? Exactly.)

That's the day I started to learn that I was a natural at being a rock muse. It's all about being comfortable with yourself and real with others. I was brave enough to step up to the plate, be assertive and be the one who dares! And so my adventures began...

Rock N Roll Memoirs Introduction

Welcome to Diary of a Manicurist. I've been searching for the right place to publish my rock n roll memoirs and other humorous and ironic observations. Finally my writing has a home!

About 2 months ago I was asked to write my own column for Vegas Rocks! Magazine. I began writing feverishly only to be told that another memoir is not exactly what the magazine is looking for. *sigh* I guess I'll just write up an occasional concert review for them when I feel inspired.

Back in 2005, I was interviewed by Miss Pamela (DesBarres) for her newest book, "Let's Spend the Night Together," only to have my already well-known story get edited from the book for being too long. I was not, however, disappointed. Okay...I was disappointed for about 12 hours...and then a dear friend helped me realize that I don't want the world to know me as "the chick who f***ed Izzy Stradlin" because that's not what nor who I am at all. That was just one day in my life (and I was only 17 for cryin' out loud.) It was one day that changed the course of my life...but still...just one day. Had my story been published in the fabulous Miss P's book, it would have only caused me grief because what I really wanted was to tell my whole story, not just the story of one day. I want the world to know that not only was I a pretty cool rock chick who did a lot of wild and stupid things but also that I am now an evangelical Christian and I'm a damn good nail technician/manicurist who works with passion and integrity.

So, out of frustration and the nagging need to purge my past so I can stop looking back and start looking ahead, this blog was born. I was not always a classy respectable woman. I'm not always a good Christian, even now, but I really do study the Word of God and I pray every day. I do see myself turning away from sin, growing wiser and becoming a better person--and more than anything it is my goal to inpire others to do the same for themselves. I may not be proud of all my experiences but I'm proud of who I'm becoming. I hope you enjoy reading this candid blog as much as I enjoy writing it.

All my love,
Cari