I like all of my scars.
All of them.
I refer to it affectionately as the Thriller scar. For, it is the scar I obtained while learning that horrible, awful, intense dance.
Lesson to be learned: when your wound can talk like this ...
And now, almost two months later ... It's the ugliest, most horrific scar. Ever. I hate the shape of it. I hate the color of it. I hate how dark it is. And most of all, I hate the location of it.
Now, I realize that many of you think I am being overly dramatic. You all lose 100 gold stars. Photos just don't do this beast justice. I dare you to ask me to see this baby in person and see if you don't agree. It's over an inch long and flaming purple. Ugh!
Wow. Let's calm down.
But just because this post is showing you the complexities of my life, I shall now show you another complexity ... This is called, Mindy is Allergic to her Laundry Detergent:
Welcome.to.my.life. But I think I am getting a new pair of Nike running shoes for Christmas, so ... I'll survive. And, I am somewhat ashamed to admit that not only am I listening to Beyonce's "If I were a Boy" ... I am kinda enjoying it.
I am still trying to sell my contract. For details please look in the right hand column. :)
I'll say, "Just press three for awhile. And when I answer, you'll know you pressed three enough."
Other pressing news in my life: I started my Christmas shopping. Today. I officially have purchased one gift. I already know what my second gift purchase will be. Ambitious, I know.
Help me make my Christmas merry ... I am still trying to sell my apartment contract. Details on the right under the creative heading, "Hey, look here!" :)
And, oh ... I updated the gold stars.
I most likely will be posting about my trip to Wisconsin tonight. Please, contain your excitement.
Do you remember Gelly Roll pens? In case not, here you go:
I feel like they used to be a lot more popular than they are now. But whatev. That is beside the point ... Here is the point: my senior year of high school I received a 12-pack of these babies as a birthday present. I adored them. And took them to school so I could do all of my assignments in multi-colored fun [much to Bruce R. Crane's dismay ... 10 more stars of you know who he is ... and 10 more if you think he looks like who I think he looks like!].
One afternoon, heading into the locker room after having ran a cross cross country race, I saw my backpack lying on the floor. I wanted to kick myself as I saw it lying there, first off, because who puts anything they actually plan on touching again on the locker room floor and secondly, although I live in Logan, Utah where about one crime happens biannually, I always took extra precaution. As I got closer I saw the front pocket was opened, and I knew I hadn't done it.
When looking in the pocket, I realized immediately that the only thing taken was my brand new 12-pack of Gelly Rolls. As I continued to look through the front pocket I realized that the thief had only gotten away with 11 ... for the navy blue pen was not in the package, but hiding in the very bottom of the pocket. I'm not positive, but I am sure I coddled the little blue pen for a minute, blamed myself for living the bag out in the first place and depressively [no, not a word] went on my not-so-merry way.
The following day in the locker room, getting ready for practice, one of my teammates who knew about the larceny, told me that in one of her classes a girl had a brand-new pack of Gelly Rolls.
My eyes widened with interest.
"Yes," she continued, "and guess what color was missing?"
Jaw open, head shaking, "Not the navy blue one!" I say.
"The navy one blue one!" she confirms. "And, to top if off, she is on the volleyball team and should be coming into the locker room any minute!"
Just as my mind began racing about what was I going to do ... she walked in. I immediately grabbed my navy blue Gelly Roll and walked up to her. I held out the pen and say, "Here you go."
"What?" she asks.
I try to hand it to her again. "Here. I figure you might as well have this one since you took all the rest."
"What?" she says. Again.
"You took the rest of my Gelly Roll pens so I figured you might as well have this one, that I assume you left behind by accident."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Yes, yes you do. Now, either you can give me back my pens, all 11 of them, or I can go to chat with someone with higher authority to get them back. Which would you prefer?"
"Well," she says, "I do have some Gelly Roll pens ... I can give them to you."
"You mean you have my Gelly Roll pens and you will give them to me."
Then my favorite line, as she is rummaging through her bag, "I didn't know they were yours."
Snotty Mindy then replies, "I realize it might have been difficult to realize they weren't yours, especially when you took them out of my bag."
She immediately starts handing me the pens individually and as she does, I count them out loud, "One ... two ... three ..." all the way to eleven to make sure I have them all.
Now, why do I tell this story? Because I ran into her, I dare not say how many years it has been, but years later and my immediate thought is, "You're the girl who stole my pens." And that, that is sad. Partially for me [forgive and forget, Mindy], but mostly ... mostly just for her and her larceny.
I cannot help but wonder if she recognized me ... I also couldn't help but wish I would have had a Gelly Roll with me to leave behind as a reminder.
I had a moment today that reminded me of how amazing memories can be ... I bought a memory foam pillow [ironic that that's the name of the pillow considering my topic today, but that is beside the point]. I opened it up and it clearly had a scent. Not a good smell, not a bad smell. Just a smell. And immediately my mind started racing to place that smell - where had I smelled it before?
Less than 20 seconds later I placed it. My memory foam pillow smells like the cast I had to wear on my arm when I was four-years-old, after I had tragically fallen from hanging upside down in the doorway [a good blogger would insert a photo of said cast and arm and of said four-year-old Mindy ... but I don't have one. I doubt my parents really wanted a photo of that cast, after all, I just used it as a weapon against my siblings].
How can a memory be that good? A scent I haven't smelled for over 20 years and it was correctly identified in less than half a minute.
Now, onto more important things ... My last post was evidently the most boring post I have ever blogged. One comment? One? Really, people? It is clear none of you care about how many layers of clothing I wear ... Which, quite frankly, is shocking.
So, here is the deal: leave a comment on the post below, pretending to be interested in that post and I will give you 20 gold stars. Leave a comment on this one, and I will give 10 more. And next time, pretend to be interested without being bribed, mm-k? :)
One tank top.
Two pairs of running tights.
A pair of jeans.
Three pairs of socks [one super fleecey and thick].
Two pairs of gloves.
Two hand warmers.
One USU hoodie.
All for the USU vs. Boise State football game. The first nationally televised game from Romney Stadium since 1977.
And all of that I was still a little chilly ...
Did I mention the game was played at 7:30pm. On November 20th. In Logan, Utah.
With temperatures reaching 23*F.
But I survived. I wish the football team could say the same.
52-21. On Senior Night. Ouch.