Last night was the Utah Book Awards Ceremony!  Thanks to all those who were there.

Here are Sara and I, anxiously awaiting the results:

Oh, fail, fail, FAIL!  Not only is this the wrong picture, I STILL have no idea how to rotate it correctly.  I kind of blame this fail on Dan, because I’ve learned to no longer take vertical pictures so I don’t have to rotate them.  I did not give him the memo.

Anyway, in case anyone cares, this is me prior to the awards, opening a belated b-day gift from my bff Sara B.  She gave me a  swank wallet/purse, similar to hers, the one I compliment each time I see it.  Now I can finally retire the little wallet-ish thing with the broken zipper I got in Mexico.  I will no longer irritate people in line behind me at Old Navy when I can’t get out my drivers license.  And I will look so stylish no longer doing it!

Meanwhile:

Here is the one I wanted all along!  And we’re waiting.  During this time I whisper to Sara Z., “I hope you’ve got a speech ready.”

The winners in the two categories prior to us had both prepared acceptance speeches.  Sara and I did not know there would be acceptance speeches.  In our defense, when Sara was nominated for this award last year (for her amazing Story of a Girl) and we attended the ceremony, nobody gave an acceptance speech.  So we thought it’d be more of the same.

Luckily, I knew Sara would be winning this year so I needn’t come up with a speech on the fly.

Then they announce the winner:

This is when it becomes evident that I had not prepared a speech.  But short speeches are my favorite kind anyway, so it worked.

I attribute my success last night to the “Christmas Dinner” shirt I was wearing.  Last winter, Sara Z. and I were shopping together instead of writing for some reason.  I don’t remember why, because usually we write, I promise!  But this was possibly more fun.  We tried on clothes that were entirely too fancy for people who spend their days hunched over a keyboard, by themselves, lost in a world that is not-quite reality.  So when I tried on this shirt and realized I had nowhere to wear it, Sara said, “You should wear that to Christmas dinner!”  So I looked at Sara’s shirt and said, “You should wear that to Christmas dinner!”

My Christmas dinner is consistently a dress-down affair.  I believe Sara’s is similar.

We both bought the shirts anyway.

Last night the shirt smelled of victory and the person who inspired me to buy it:  Sara Zarr, the best friend a girl could have.

Then, the reception.  The food was a step WAY up from last year, which I appreciated, as I hadn’t had time to eat dinner that night and my boxed-up food was sitting in Sara B.’s car.

Me, Sara Z, and my Pop.  He hates to have his picture taken, but agreed to it because this was a special night.

Then, the after party!   Because I was still hungry, and besides, we needed more quality time.  So the Clique, minus Kim, who had to prep for her trip to Disneyland, and Sara Z., who thought we were nuts for needing dinner at 9 p.m, went to Gourmandise/ies.  No one judged me for having two dinners, because they are non-judgmental like that.

Except for afterwards, when I convinced Brodi to walk barefoot instead of in her death-heels.  Then I was judged galore by Bree.  But I don’t blame her for that.  I mean, telling someone to walk barefoot in downtown SLC is not particularly good advice.  But if you ask me, it makes more sense than heels.

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