I have the best dreams.

You know this.  Whitney knows this.  My dad knows this.  My lovely roommates are learning this.  They're just so much fun because I'm always running from zombies or hanging out with Johnny Weir (I swear I'm not a stalker except what exactly defines a stalker?) or freaking out because I'm arriving to the competition venue late without my dress or earrings or Smooth heels.

Now that my life revolves around work (and Dr. Pepper), my dreams do as well.  Last night's involved this gorgeous home that transformed into the store that was my place of work.  I had a girl come in who wanted to try some jeans, and eventually I got to the point of saying, "well, you definitely need a skinny, and a boot cut, AND you can't go wrong with a great flare!"  I was pulling everything, and when one didn't work, I knew the next to get.

My product knowledge and the way it permeates my subconscious astounds me.  And my desperation for this woman to spend six hundred dollars with me was also telling.

That said, here are the best skinnies, boot cut, and flares, not just for my body type, but I feel ALL body types.  It's always hard to generalize across the board, but I've styled a lot of different bodies and these are the three that work for virtually everybody.

Paige Skyline in Twilight

In the same day I pulled a 32 for one client and a 24 for another and it looked phenomenal on both.  The wash is perfect for dressing up with heels, dressing down with flats, or in between with boots.  It has the right amount of stretch and the higher rise makes everybody happy, even those worried about the muffin top.  Paige has insane followers, and while I'm not always one, I'm there with this particular piece.

Hudson Signature Boot

Love me some Hudsons.  The pockets sit higher than the pocket on a True Religion, and the detailing isn't obnoxious.  I don't know how it does it, but the Hudson flap pocket makes every woman's behind look wonderful.  The double button creates a thicker band, which makes for that full-coverage fit in what is often a tough place for women - the hips and lower waist.

Current/Elliott Trouser

Are you not on the flare train yet?  I'm going to get you there - promise.  For whatever reason only three things get me compliments each and every time I wear them - my Vince Camuto booties, my Mother 70s wash flare, and my Dylan George trouser-cuff flare, and usually I'm wearing one of the two jeans with the booties.  I know what you're thinking - we wore them in 1999 with that sick, Paris Blue color.  We ALL wore them and we wore them with Doc Martins that you never saw because the opening of the jean massively encompassed the entire shoe.  This is not that flare.  This is tailored to the knee, and instead it gradually works its way into a gentle flare.

I know what else you're thinking, "only skinny girls without hips can wear flares".  Guess what - I've got child-bearing hips AND a butt, and I love them more than I can say.  My suggestion to those of you who are concerned about too much bulk is to ALWAYS wear a flare with some sort of a heel.  Beauty is pain, and believe me, it will be worth it.

Okay.  Back to reality.  I couldn't dance in DanceSport this weekend, which was really difficult.  I'm that person who cannot just go dance.  If I'm going to do it, then I'm going to do it right.  For the same reasons I ended my time in pageants, it may be time to say goodbye to dance - I have too much respect for the art form and too much of an ego to let myself simply enter a competition without the appropriate practice and time.  And unfortunately, I don't have that time right now.  It's been really tough, and sort of culminated in first crying in my dad's arms at work, and then crying to my boss in her office.  

For whatever reason God blessed me pretty abundantly with a lot of random capabilities, and I've loved every single one of them.  I've written about this "no regrets" thing before, and how it's such a pretty idea, but it's not remotely possible for me.  Do I regret not being a ballerina, or a pianist, or a Broadway performer, or an Olympic figure skater, or Miss America, or a ballroom national champion?

Absolutely.

Is that a negative thing?

I'm not certain that it is.

Again, regret doesn't have to be an energy-sucker.  What I have to remind myself is that I could not be a Jack-of-all-Trades, but my passion for all of them means I couldn't really be a master-of-one either.  What I've realized is the common thread in everything is this concept of unique expression, and as I've gotten older, I've constantly found a new form of this artistic way to communicate.  Where I probably differ from a lot of people is that I started really early, and my skill set was more honed at a younger age, but it also means that my resume is filled with all of these crazy experiences that make for better story telling.

And that's where it all finds a home again.  Because as much as I love a radio program's setting of back-and-forth-banter, in the end, just me and a computer keyboard and some Christmas tunes (I'm sorry, I tried to wait, but I couldn't do it anymore!) are my grounding force.  The above activities formed my discipline, taught me passion, and fostered this enormous contextual reference with which I can draw from creatively.

I'm lucky.  I know that.  What I'm hoping is that I'm learning to move forward, knowing that the what-ifs will always be there, but instead of being bitter and sad that nothing more came of it, I hope that I can always reflect with pride and satisfaction for what I did in the time that I had with each area of focus.

Constantly In Repair, right?

prettiest thing I ever did see.

When I was a kid, I was home schooled.  A few of you probably didn't know, and those who didn't know could probably guess - at the very least it helps everything make sense (oh, that's why she's so awkward).  It's because I was the over-programmed child, always singing or dancing or piano-ing or figure skating or babysitting.

Yeah.

Babysitting.

For reals.

Somehow, this amazing family entrusted me with their children when I was eleven.  They basically needed someone to watch their kids each day, and I was cheaper than a nanny, and I didn't have to be in school (honestly, my childhood sort of rocked, now that I think about it), and for nearly three years I watched their children in the mornings while doing my studies, or in the evenings while they were at Yankee games, or even overnight.  I remember their first apartment, their house next to the church building, and then when they rebuilt it.  I still remember the first time my mom told me Sister Humphrey had called looking for someone to watch her youngest son the next day.

That son is now a teenager and tall!  The oldest daughter recently got married!  The middle son is getting ready to serve a mission!  They have like a bajillion more siblings that I don't even know!

Where did the time go?

Five years ago I figured I'd win Miss Utah in a few months, do the Miss America thing, get married, and probably have a kid somewhere around the year 2010/2011.

Yeah.

That didn't happen.

Part of what I love about my job is seeing old friends and acquaintances whom I've not seen for long periods of time - and then boom, suddenly they're right there with shoes or sweaters and instead of working, we reminisce and relive some of those joyful memories.  Truthfully, it can be hard telling them of the failures I've had.  I try really hard to not see certain things as failures.  Being an educated 24-year old with a wonderful career ahead of her isn't anything to be ashamed of, but there are just all of these what-could-have-beens.  So when someone asks about my pageant goals and dating life, and I tell them something along the lines of, "well, after five tries I finally got it in my head that I wasn't going to be Miss Utah County, and I obviously wasn't going to be Miss Utah, and yeah, I ended up being Miss Henderson, but then I actually dropped out of Miss Nevada for Reason-X and Reason-Y and now I've aged out, and nope, sadly he and I didn't get married, and that one got married to a cute girl who is nothing like me, and that other one and I definitely didn't get married, and the first one is now marrying someone else".

.....

It's sort of a lot, right?

It's a lot for me to take in when learning about my friends who have the opportunity to be married and start families.  Because even though I love my job, and I love the idea of always working, and I love providing for myself, I would give anything to be a mom.

I loved babies when I basically was one, and I loved babies when I played with them at church, and I loved babies when I got paid to play with them, and I loved babies when my siblings started having them, and I loved babies all the time and I've never stopped.

Being married, and being a mother, and being on that path is in my future.  I'm sure it is.  I have faith it is.  And I'm happy - whether I need convincing or not... I am happy.  I'm determined to have a positive attitude, especially because I don't understand why I'm on a path that seems so utterly foreign to everything I thought I'd have.  I don't understand why most of the things I dreamt about are now beyond me.  I don't understand why God defined this particular lane of the highway for me.

It's okay.  I don't feel bad about being a little sad tonight, as I look at my friend's sweet families - even with all of the things that I know they endure (as we all must endure), mostly because I do have that faith.

A sweet friend I ran into at work reminded me that it'll make sense when it is supposed to (I'm a writer - I should remember that).  Luckily she also said that I've got a glow... so maybe I am going to be okay.

muah.

not up for being a...

There used to be a time when I had just a few people who cared to read anything I wrote.  It was a small circle - a circle of people who already knew what was happening anyway, so when they read my vague statements with my sadness or excitement veiled in silly paragraphs, there wasn't any danger.  Everything is dangerous now.

A year ago, and two years ago, I was writing about the things that made me happy or made me anxious and there were very few consequences.  Two years ago, the things said weren't even policed all that much.  Last year?  I didn't even care if dots were connected.

Somewhere in this house is a box.  Not an existential box used for compartmentalizing my emotional angst; a real one.  I think it's one of those boxes used to transport apples or pears or some type of fruit to a grocery store.  The reason for possessing such a box is a much better story for another day.  There are quite a few journals in there: a red one with a key print on the front and a red and black one with a print of Audrey Hepburn and a small blueish one with stars and a moon and some sort of night scene.  I'm pretty sure there's a goldish one from my freshman year at BYU.  There are surely others that I've forgotten.  And they're all unfinished.  Mostly empty.  The Hepburn one might be full, but I think that's because it's spiral bound and I ripped the remaining pages out so I didn't feel like such a quitter.

In my nightstand I have a nice journal that is leather bound and at least 400 pages and has a leather strap that wraps it closed.  It's beautiful.  I started it in January of 2008 and by April of 2011 had written 23 pages.  I'm now on page 82.

Like I said, I miss the slight anonymity this blog used to give me.  I could write about things (because that's how I cope) and, with the exception of names and really specific events, I could post them with ease of mind.

Right now, for example, there's something weighing heavily on me and I can't talk about it to anybody because Erika is surely asleep.  I guess I could write about it in my pretty journal as I've done incessantly for the last few weeks, but well... I just painted my nails a little bit ago and while typing doesn't ruin them, grasping a pen probably would.  So here I am, skirting around what I would love to say but can't because I don't have that freedom anymore.  Of course writing memoirs would be a problem if I felt uncomfortable sharing details, but I've always planned on releasing something like that once things are a little more stabilized...

I could respond to the meanie pants people on Facebook who think saying I don't have any real political conviction isn't a personal attack.  I could tell him that the reason I don't respond is because it creates drama, and believe you me - I have divorced parents, so I'm good on the drama front, thanks.  I could tell him that, actually, the reason things are so politically polarized is because people enjoy creating ideological division through rhetoric and name-calling.  I could tell him that while I may appear to be some charmed person with charmed opportunities and a charmed existence, I struggle every day like virtually every lucid person in this world, and that maybe - just maybe - you don't know all the personal stories that have created my personal belief system.

I could do that.

Or I could write what I really want to write, about how things grow and evolve and move forward and you have to sit there and watch it with the Internet pushing it directly into your view for your heart and mind to process. 

Dang it; I just ruined one of my nails.

another reason this sucks: I can't title things with lyrics that express my current state to utter perfection.

patience patience patience.

I can have patience for a few things - or at least I can attempt to.  What I'm not going to have patience for?  People being utterly obnoxious on facebook with their silly, political rants.

so all of this?

yeah......NO.

files and folders.

Thank you for your words of encouragement, your text messages, your facebook messages, your phone calls.  I'm sorry I published that emotional drama.  I usually try to reign those things in.

Of course, as is life, things became much worse.  And they might continue on that path.

But my friend Travis gave me a few boxes to help lighten the load I carry in my purse.  Hopefully I can learn to use them.

Thank you Whitney, and Mandy, and Emily, and Travis, and Kelsey.  But especially thank you Whitney for being my pillar at five in the morning when I need to shake and convulse.

**********

Showing up at the temple at 6:30 in the morning is so unlike me.  There are too many questions that I can't answer right now, but I'm grateful that God felt it appropriate for me to enter that beautiful place and feel an hour of peace.  The second I took a look at my phone, the chaos returned, but instead of hiding in my bed, I managed to file the frustration into a box for a little while.

And I thought what I was dealing with in October was hard.

God's smart, in case you didn't know it. 

Things are probably going to get worse.  And I need to stop trying to date jocks because you may like the fact that I can talk to you about philosophy and politics and China, but I'm pretty sure you can't handle it, either.  And I love you, Dad.  A lot.

phoenix.

so keep on calling me names, 
keep on keep on.

Killing time before the temple opens.

This is one of those nights where crying doesn't solve the problem.  This is also one of those nights where I sit and I think, "really, God?  Really?!"

I'm not a perfect person, and I've made a lot of mistakes, and I feel like I've said this a MILLION times and I will keep saying it because it's true.

But right now?  At this time in my life?  I am doing the right things.  I've not said this bluntly, but here it is: I received my endowment a few weeks ago, not because I'm getting married, and not because I'm going on a mission, but because it was time.

And since that decision was made?



angst angst angst.



I read my scriptures.  I am consistently asking God to feel worthwhile.  I tell myself over, and over, and over that I just need to have faith, that I just need to fight through this.  That this will pass.

A friend suggested service, so I've been spending time that I don't have with people and organizations who need help.

I'm trying to develop thick skin, trying to learn how to deal with people who knowingly, and even unknowingly, say destructive things.  But I'm only human.

Many of us feel alone as we attempt to overcome life’s small frustrations and major disappointments. Of course, most of us can say that we know God loves his children. We can bear testimony to the principles of the gospel and the inspiration of our leaders. Yet it seems most difficult to feel that the Lord loves us personally and profoundly and that he acts upon that love to bless us, even in the seemingly insignificant details of our lives.

--Jeffrey  C. Jacob

I'm trying.  I really am.  I'm trying to have faith.  I'm trying to hang in there.  I'm trying to be there for my family and my friends and my dance partner and my teachers and myself and my nieces and my brothers and the people I don't even know.

I need it to be 7 a.m. so I can be inside the Provo temple, away from all of this.

creative [literary] vomit.

Right now, I should be going through the world's most complicated study guide (Intro to Islam, test #2 aka Recognize Every Single Mosque That Has Been Built and Say Why Anyone Cares), and instead I'm agreeing with Phillip Lopate.  Let's change it from creative nonfiction to literary nonfiction, mmmkay?  He is also validating me.

I’m arguing more for reflective nonfiction where thinking and the play of consciousness is the main actor.

Bless you, Mr. Lopate.

I feel old and extremely unaccomplished.  I feel old and bored and boring and old and single.  I feel old and single and too self-aware and old and still in school and SINGLE.  I also feel inadequate.  Sure, I'm doing better than those kids who can't go to college or who can't read.  At least I don't have a communicable disease.  At least I'm not Lindsey Lohan.  You might understand the feeling, though.  The feeling that comes with being 23 and single and still working on an undergrad and the oh-my-gosh-I-have-so-much-potential-there-are-so-many-things-I-want-to-do-and-can-do-what-the-hell-am-I-going-to-do-money-school-family-job-cheese.

Roughly like that, right?

There are people who read this blog and I'm sorely tempted to name them.  People who are currently living what I would consider to be a dreamy existence.  Of course, we all know that's not possible, because everyone deals with their fair share of blah blah blah.  But just once I'd like to say, *coughKatieAPulsiphercough* I hate you a little right now.

This is also about the time that I smack myself.  What am I doing?  What do I want to be doing?  What do I even care about?  How do I synthesize all of my passions into a pretty little box that can be categorized in a three-word statement?  Why haven't I learned this yet?  Why did I stay the same exact weight for four months, trying EVERYTHING, only to gain three pounds in two days?

This is what I like to call a rut.  Not a depressive rut - I've dealt with plenty of those.  An existential rut?  Maybe - although, I don't need you to send me any videos of where I'm from and where I'm going and God's eternal plan of happiness.  A karmic rut?  Most certainly.  Boo Karma.  I'm willing to buy that I deserve this on some level.

Perhaps the correct word is boredom.  Being bored isn't fun.  Being bored and allowing yourself to stay bored?  That's just stupid.

That is also me.

Why am I stupid?  Well, let's look at the things I'm currently most passionate about:

*Writing essays
*Commentating on politics, philosophy, religion, and any other issue that causes lots of war.
*Becoming Miss Nevada
*Babies
*Chuck Bass
*Black Swan

School is good, and school is wonderful, but as of right now, the only classes that are helping me move forward in my passions are my creative writing class and my Islamic class (although apparently everything I'm being taught is WRONG).  Most of my time is devoted to school: going, not going, thinking about going, deciding to stay in bed, dragging myself out of bed, driving, studying at school, studying at home, thinking in the car about school, dreaming about school (including a series of dreams about Mrs. Abbott, a teacher from high school - I'd really love to stop having those).

I'm not very content with my life (shocker).  I've been in a rut.  I've been okay with boredom.

I vowed to be okay with not being perfect, not be okay with being a slug who eats lots of Rhodes bake-at-home rolls (Neil votes ice cream; I vote rolls).

So how can I work toward my passions?

Well, I do love babies, but I also love holding a temple recommend and I'd rather have them after I'm married.  Whining about my singleness isn't very helpful, and I'm pretty sure God is doing it on purpose, so I'm going to try to be zen about all of this and just let the Universe figure it all out (note: this is a lie).

I love Chuck Bass, but he's not real.  So that's a stupid passion.

I also love Black Swan, and I don't care if it's weird (and also not real) - I will accept my connection to Portman's character.  Thank goodness for the soundtrack and for Tchaikovsky and for lesbians and for Oscar DVD screeners.

Becoming Miss Nevada requires becoming Miss Something-or-Other in between.  No practicing can occur right now because I have to grow my nails out for Nationals, but March 18th?  Nails are getting cut and lots of piano playing will happen.  Tune back in sometime around the beginning of April to see if this is even going to happen.

This takes me to the two things that probably make me happiest (besides making out and babies; baby making will probably be included in this one day): I love writing essays and I love stating my opinion.  But why don't I read essays?  How do I not subscribe to The New Yorker?  How do I not own Lopate's numerous volumes?  How can I call myself a student and disciple of creative [literary] nonfiction if I don't actually read any?

So I'm making an addendum to my new year's vow.

I will read a nonfiction piece every day.  I will also read The Economist because I'm really bad with economic issues.  I will act like I actually want to pursue a career in TV/Radio by actually e-mailing a certain Mr. Hannity.  I will be okay with the fact that I like personal essays.  Lopate wants us to write nonfiction in a more reflective way, not just painting a picture of someone who did something interesting, but painting a picture of someone who thinks things that are interesting.

I will become someone who thinks interesting things.

Maybe I will become someone who thinks mostly-interesting things.

But dammit!  I will get out of this rut!

Rah rah go team.

Cue Divo's Whip It.

Today...

I suggested that sex education would help stifle abortions.

A friend on facebook then said that they love listening to a BYU student advocating for abortion.

......

Okay.  Sure.  I'll give you a REALLY wide scope on that one.  Whatever.

Then my boss' co-host (I'm assuming not connecting the dots...) said, "I know. I wish I could convince my co-host to dump her. But it's no go. She's seriously liberal!"

UGH.  Go to Connecticut.  Then tell me if I'm liberal! I don't say you should be gone because you're a tea party conservative!

{Instead of running to a hole to cower in, I'm going to assume that this means I'm doing my job, and that I'm doing it well.}

hey....

Lookie lookie!

whoa whoa whoa

freaking out over here.

Just to bring you up to speed: I interviewed a bunch of individuals who are involved with a new site called Truth Is Revolutionary and uhhh, I'm kind of the first person in ANY media outlet in the WORLD to have done so.  An official press release is going out in about 6 hours and they are going to be posting audio on the website.

So uhhhhh, head over here where I will link to the audio as soon as I receive it in my e-mail inbox.

This is how it starts, right?

this is big. you should read this.

Okay, some of you listen to the radio show that Casey and I co-host twice a week (in case you've missed all of my notes about it: Thursday at 2 p.m., Saturday at noon; k-talk.com or AM 630).  Most of you probably don't even care.  Today, however, is a good day to maybe, kind of, possibly, sort of... care.

Today's show is going to feature an exclusive I have with a key organizer of the Anonymous Movement, individuals "hacking" websites that are caving to government pressure against WikiLeaks.  I have found a way to talk about wikileaks in every single show and I am going to continue talking about wikileaks, because I believe it to be the issue that will define our generation: the future, safety, security, and freedom of the internet.  It is the future, safety, security, and freedom of information, and our government is stealthy and beginning to take it away from us.

Wait a second, Jen... a conspiracy theorist?!

I know.  Shocking, right?

I don't think we're losing freedoms.  You can do and say and be what you want (unless you're gay).  But if net neutrality passes, if WikiLeaks is taken down, I promise you that we WILL be losing the freedom of free information.

Perhaps this is a minority opinion; it's certainly not a popular one at the station in which I work.  Perhaps I'm drumming up concern for dramatic effect.  Perhaps I'm completely wrong.

Or maybe I'm not.  Maybe this is just as big as I, and others, think it is.  We already know that the US government can spy on us as much as they want; what are we going to do if we lose the ability to expose corruption in government and big business?

Tune in.  You don't want to miss comments from Anonymous.

there's a lesson in this.

For some reason I haven't chronicled the insanely expensive past few days - my car suuuuuuucks.  Anyway, it's show day, right?  (right - listen in at k-talk.com or AM 630 at 2 p.m.  We'll be talking about tax cuts and how I'm probably going to get silenced by the internet gods)  Yeah, that means I need to be at the station soon.  But my car is still sort of at the shop and I have no way of actually getting it.  Well, Whitney had to go to work early.  Leslie is MIA.  Wayne doesn't answer his phone.  Want to see this list of people I have called/texted in the last forty-five minutes?

Garrett T.
Natalie W.
Jared K.
Andrew N.
Emily B.
Jon J.
Zach L.
Sam H.
Ryan W.
Kurt M.
Melissa N.

It's kind of embarrassing.  And the whole time I was thinking, you know, I should just call Drew.

Finally did.

Should have done it first.

This is why we were best buds in high school and why he is still the person I can count on.  Thank you Drewface!!!


postscript: please don't text me during the show complaining about how you can't get it to work online.  I know NOTHING about computers and I know even less about the station's website.

ch-ch-ch-changes.

The fun of being a writer is recording everything I can remember, with the detail I want to include, with the feelings I want to evoke.  It's easy to twist things around; it's easy to manipulate memory or history or feelings - and putting it on paper, or on the internet?  Makes it all the better.  Sometimes I lie, and sometimes I lie on this blog.  It's not often, and it's been a while since I've lied, but I've done it.  I have a feeling that my life is going to be changing on this slow incline, and I want to be as honest as possible, but I'm scared to be too honest.  If things change the way I think they're going to, then I don't want to be as exposed... so what do I do?

Do I go back and delete everything?  Do I blur out photos and references and names and experiences?  Do I transfer them to my private blog and change the course of this blog's future?  Do I pretend that certain relationships didn't exist, and certain mistakes didn't happen, and certain experiences didn't affect me?

This probably seems completely silly, but I just have that feeling - I can't explain it and I don't even know how to describe it, but I can feel it.  Things are going to be changing.  I took my first solo step in defining my destiny and future yesterday.  I was in the car, staring at the book, thinking about the manager, wondering what I could have done differently, and then I was in there, taking control, and making myself known.

Although dangerous to make a big deal of this, yesterday was...well...a big deal.  My first big interview (no offense to my mom, or Christina Lowe, or Becky Lockhart but.....), and not only did it go well, I think an impression was made.

It will be fun to look back at the interview and laugh at how stressed I was the WHOLE ENTIRE TIME wondering when he was going to call.  Laugh at how many text messages and phone calls I made while spewing words out of my mouth (I'm not going to pretend that anything said yesterday was even remotely profound).  Laugh at how nervous I got when speaking to Apolo on the phone.  Laugh at what a giddy idiot I sounded like.  But after yesterday, after meeting him, after chatting with his people for a while, I just have a feeling.  It's not going to be my only interview with him and it's not going to be my only big interview.

So Apolo, if you found this through my twitter, or however, know that I loved interviewing you and I can't wait to do it again.  Also, I'm pretty sure you spend a lot of time in SLC, so we should stay in touch.

It's Show Time!

Up here at the studio and freaking out a little bit, because oh my goodness, I'm interviewing Apolo Anton Ohno in two hours!

Listen in at k-talk.com or AM 630 at 12 p.m. for our interview with Apolo.  I've been reading his book and I can't wait to ask him a few questions about it.  Seriously you guys - you don't want to miss this!

Thur-ur-ur-ursday

Show day!

Casey and I are going to be doing an election wrap-up, talking about the things we liked, the things we disliked, and the things that will probably make no difference whatsoever.

Tune in to AM 630 KTLK, or at k-talk.com at 2 p.m. for the best election perspective you could hope for - the perspective of those who are inheriting the choices made by all these politicking individuals who were voted in.

Don't miss it.

Tune in for the Saturday show!

That's right. They have given us another hour to chat about politics. And we even have a guest! The current Miss Utah, Christina Lowe is in studio with us. We will be talking about the importance of the youth vote in this election and what we can do to be involved.

Today, Saturday, at NOON. AM 630 or ktalk.com!

We also might be looking at the connections between Russia, Afghanistan, and pot. Yup. Don't miss it!

LISTEN TODAY!

Yep, another Thursday, another show.  This one's gonna be better I SWEAR.

Sound clips will work (which is why I'm still awake...) and the topic is going to be fantastic.

We'll be discussing the LDS press release in response the HRC petition and we will be looking at it in the context of Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

Will be a great show!

2 p.m. 630 AM in Utah, or k-talk.com.

Tune in TODAY!

Well, okay, tomorrow.  But most of you will see this on Thursday.

Listen to the Casey and Jen Show That Still Needs An Official Name today at 2 p.m. on K-TALK, AM 630.  Or stream live at k-talk.com!

Why, you ask?

Well, let's just say the words Obama, streaker, and million dollars might be said within the same general area of each other.

Oh yes, we are.