5.29.2008

487.62 miles


... That's how many miles it is from Logan, Utah to Fruitland, New Mexico. Why do we care? Because that's where I spent the long Memorial Day weekend {I know, I know, some of you are thinking, "I still don't care"}. :)

And why did I go? For this ...


No, not to sit underneath an umbrella in the pouring rain at a high school football stadium {although, that did happen}. This is actually at Chance's little sister's graduation. In the back of the photo is Chance's fam: his aunt Robin, his pa, his mom ... and then his roommate, Drew Chapman.

What else did we do?


Waited at the optimologist for hours while Chance picked out a new pair of glasses and had an eye exam ... What do you think of his new pair? ... Okay, so those aren't exactly the ones he got. :) I am actually beginning a new scrapbook, the contents of which are going to be based solely on photographs of me waiting for Chance ... pictures will include me waiting at the dentist, at his seminary building, and outside of restaurants after he throws his wallet in the trash bin and has to go find it, to name a few. :)


Also, we ...


Shot guns! This terrifies me every time I do it! And on a very serious and unfortunate note: it is believed that while aiming for a tree, I accidentally hit and killed one of God's little creatures ... a bird. At least that's what I was told. Every time I pull the trigger I look away and close my eyes. Dangerous? You bet.


Also while in New Mexico ...


I was domestic for the first time in 2008 {and 2007} ... Yes, I really am playing an active role in preparing a dinner! Not only did I stir this pot of yumminess, I helped prepare Jalapeno poppers and ... take a deep breath: cut fish! UGH! Bud Basinger, the things you somehow get me to do!


Hmm ... what else?


Played the worst game in the world ... Settlers of Catan. Chance won. As always. I cheated. As always. And lost. As always. The little guy's face on the left, next to Chance's dad, says it all about this game. And it is with deep sorrow that I inform everyone that we accidentally left the game in New Mexico ... Hahahaha!


We also saw a mutant sheep.


You'll notice ... He has no head.

Annnnd, Chance was ...


... naughty to his mom. :)

I am also going to start another scrapbook ...



All of its contents will be photographs of the random ways and places Chance leaves me little messages of, "Die." He's done this for years now ... I've never been sure why ... and yet, even with the gruesomeness of the message I am so entertained.


And I know this may come as a shock to you, but New Mexico ...


Actually has some gorgeous scenery {although I don't feel my photographic abilities can fully capture it}. All of these are photos on Chance's family's property. Behind the trees in the top photo is a gigantic drop off where you can see the river flow through. It looked amazing in the spring {especially considering every other time I have gone has been the middle of winter!}.


Next item of business ... what is wrong with this picture?


Can you tell??

And ... here we have ...


A photograph of two of the best leg-wrestlers in the world. #1 is on the left. #2 is on the right. :)


Annnd then one day ...


We had to come home. Dirty darn. However, on the way back this time we detoured a bit to make our way to the four corners. In the bottom photo I am in FOUR places at ONCE! Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado! The above photos are of the COLORFUL Colorado {does anyone hear the irony ringing out?} and leaving New Mexico. If you think that photograph is bright, imagine what our eyeballs were feeling!


Anywhoot: this currently is the longest blog entry known to mankind. Congratulations for being a part of history. Too bad there is no tangible reward for such a feat. Just the warm fuzzies you may or may not feel inside. The end. :)

5.21.2008

Ever wonder what goes on in Mindy's head?

I just got back from Salt Lake City. Nevermind that the door on the driver's side of Eddie (my car) didn't want to close properly (that's right, it was semi-open on the freeway, for all 70 minutes). I was in Salt Lake attending a conference for work. I was becoming a certified SOAR instructor: dun, dun, dun. Let's just say that describing the experience as the worst three days of my life would be an understatement.

What follows this paragraph was written, not intending to be a post on my blog nor in poem form. It is actually the collaboration of random thoughts I had written down in my training manual on the first day of training, after having been there for eight hours and fifteen minutes, mistakenly thinking it was the worst day of my life (for your benefit, things that are italicized are things spoken by other people that I had just written down as well) ...


I want to sleep, eat, and run ... not in that order.
I want to leave NOW! I am going crazy!

INSANE.
To whom it may concern: I'm currently going insane.

Go home now.
Stop talking!
This is awful.
I want to leave now.

Attention span is gone.
WHY ARE YOU BLOWING YOUR NOSE BY ME!?
Don't put that tissue down by me!
Gross!

Fight or flight. Is that an option right now?
I'll take flight, please.

Why are you talking about gas!?
That tastes like poo-juice. WHAT?

Are you seriously carefully folding the booger-filled tissue!?
Dispose of it, man!

NO MORE COMMENTS!
Can we stop talking about Bikram yoga and get this meeting over already?

Run for your life screaming out of the room.
I want to do that now. Is that socially acceptable?
Unfortunately, no.

Heart explode out of my chest.
You bet, if this meeting goes on for one more minute.
AND: throw the booger-filled tissue away!!!

What causes me stress?
Tissues with boogers in them sitting next to me and meetings that never end!
What do I do to relieve stress?
Run for my life screaming out of INSANELY long meetings!

Candles ...
Hey, those could burn down this building and then ...
I COULD LEAVE.

Has anyone ever died of boredom? Seriously.
Oh, those are really cute shoes.
Crap. They would make me too tall - look at that heel.
Lucky, Virginia, you're short.

P.s. Thank you, Virginia, for wearing cute shoes to distract me momentarily from my boredom ...

WHY IS THE TISSUE STILL THERE?
Get rid of the tissue!

Heeeey, why did HE get to answer his cell phone leave!? Please, please! Someone, ANYONE - call me so I can leave!

Virginia, you look like Neela from ER. But you don't talk like her.
And ... the tissue is still there.

Don't take this the wrong way, but we only have 15 minutes left so if we could wrap this up ...
MATT! BEST COMMENT ALL DAY! I know I have never spoken to you and don't know you, but Matt: I love you.


I repeat, that was only the first day, and I thought it was the worst day of my life ... yeah, don't worry that the second day was a million-trillion times worse. The third day was slightly better than days one and two only because it was three hours shorter.

And what did I get out of it all? This ...



That's right. A piece of paper ... Okay, so it was card stock paper. And that little sticker did reflect the light if you angled it right. But who am I kidding? I have to turn this over to the company I work for so they can "put it in [my] file." So all in all, I literally came out of this three day conference empty handed and with a car door that doesn't shut without the assistance of an auto body mechanic.

P.s. That tissue I spoke so highly of on day one ... It returned for days two and three! I only dry heaved twice over that. The end.

5.12.2008

I hope Houston didn't disconnect ...


So, I solved one problem - by taking the pink phone back {sorry to everyone who voted that my passion for pink was stronger than my hatred of change}, only to encounter another ... And in the depths of my despair {thank you Anne with an "e" for that phrase} of my pink phone not being all I wanted {and definitely not more} I think I had a psychotic break. I know this may come as a shock to you, considering I am the most sane person most of you know, but it is true.

To make up for the lack of the pink phone my heart longed and ached for ... I ended up buying anything and everything I possibly could in pink ...


Things I don't even need - like Tupperware. No, you didn't read that wrong: the girl who doesn't cook* bought Tupperware! Tupperware! What on this green earth am I going to put in it!?



I also bought pink Q-tips.



And pink shavers.


A pink water bottle.

And I even talked my five-year-old nephew who broke his arm into getting a PINK cast ...


Just kidding! :) He's man's man and got camouflage!

Annnnd ... realizing that nothing could ever fill the void in my heart that my pink phone left when I took it back to naughty, mean-old, lying Sheryl at T-Mobile {refer to my Needs to Be Kicked List}, I ... bought ...


... a NEW PINK PHONE!!

Yes!! And I am sooo happy I can barely stand it!!!

Now, are you all sitting down {of course you are, who stands at their computer [if you happened to be standing at your computer as you read this: golden star for you]} I have the secret to happiness: it is tangible, useless-once-you-get-to-Heaven PINK items!! LIKE PINK CELL PHONES! You know, I really should charge you all for giving out such a big, forever-sought-for answer such as that. But I won't ... because I love you all {almost as much as I love my pink cell phone!}.

For those of you who think I am obsessed with the color pink: true. But I promise this will be the last post on my passion for at least 17 hours. And as I part, my wish for you is this: may you find in your own life something that brings you as much happiness as my pink phone brings me {you'll probably find it in a spouse or a child ... and I, I find it in pink phones. Hmm ... when I look at it that way it seems like an unhealthy fetish. Oh, well.}
___

* For those of you not familiar with my cooking habits, when I say I don't cook, I mean I don't - at all - ever. I did once or twice in high school, but my Ramen noodles had flames. No lie. My mother actually banned my from using the oven. Although, on a completely non-related topic she didn't disown me when I moved to Provo, which pretty much makes her the best mother in the world. In fact, much like unto the Prodigal son, she welcomed me back to Logan {and to her home} with open arms.

5.01.2008

Houston, we have a problem ...


I am in love with the color pink. My watch that I run with every day is ... pink. My Nike running shoes have pink swooshes on them. My iPod is ... pink. I am currently wearing a pink sweater. My toenails are painted pink. Pink is the color of the new bed sheets I bought today for my extra-long mattress. I will one day own pink luggage. I am in love with the color pink.

Today, I did something I have dreamed of doing for nine months: I bought a pink cell phone. AND! I hate it. 

Why? Because I hate change as much as I love the color pink. I agree with Meg Ryan's character 113% in "You've Got Mail" when she says, "People are always telling me that change is good. But all that means is something you didn't want to happen has happened." 

And what exactly has happened?

I have come up with three things on this earth that I am good at, really good at: leg-wrestling, parallel parking, and texting. And you know what? This new phone has taken one of my talents away from me. It has made me a novice texter and I loathe that. I do not want to be, "Mindy, the stalwart leg-wrestler, phenomenal parallel parker ... and the neophyte {not to be confused with Nephite} texter."

How dare you, pink cell phone, change the way I text?

This leaves us {with "us" being defined as: me} in a conundrum. I am so bothered by the different texting format that I am strongly considering taking the pink cell phone back tomorrow morning so I can simply return to my old friend, and text the way I have always texted and continue being the three-talented person I am.

I guess it all comes down to this simple question: which is stronger - my love for the color pink or my hatred for change {and for your golden star achieving convenience, I have made this question the poll question of the week, to be found in the right hand column of this blog} ? ... Only time will tell, only time will tell ... sigh. 

P.S. If any of you lose sleep and/or sob uncontrollably over this terrible misfortune of mine, I will give you two additional golden stars. :) Naturally, photographic documentation of either event will be required, with all rights and permission given to Mindy to use that photo on her blog. Please send all photographic documentations to runaholic@gmail.com ... Thank you and have a nice day, unless you day was already in a class much higher than merely "nice," in which case by all means stay at your currently exuberant day status.
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