Contemplating the important things in life ...

If you were in love with Jusitin Bieber and he was in love with you and he kissed you, what would you do?

This question also appears on my status on Facebook. Feel free to provide your answer at one or both locations.

I need more blog posts to read ...

I don't know if it is because I am bored ...

or because I am an insanely fast reader ...

But I know it's because I am an insanely fast reader ...

that I need YOU to post more.

If YOU post a blog today, I will give you 200 gold stars.



And if I haven't left a comment on your blog it's probably because I don't know your address or lost it. Sooo, YOU should probably give it to me. So YOU can post today and earn 200 gold stars.



The half marathon ...

I was going to include a photo of me in all my glory while running the beast.

But alas, none were taken.

Because I did not run it.

I was tempted to take a photo of myself cheering the runners on, because that was the only role I played at this year's Top of Utah Half Marathon.

Insert frowny face.

While cheering people on I began stereotyping the different kinds of runners there are out there. No matter where you go, you will see these stereotypes in every distance race out there ...

* Near-professional: These are the few who place in the top 10% or whatev. They might not actually be sponsored, but they totally know what they are doing and they are fast. It's like they even know how to properly grab the cups of Gatorade and water without spilling it on themselves. And trust me, they don't teach you that in college running.

* Trendy: These are the "runners" who wear or do whatever is the in thing for that season. Last year it was the skirt-shorts {abs not included}, this year it's the running shoes that look like feet {I actually typed that sentence into Google and smart Google knew what I was talking about}. While there is a new in thing every year ... I never seem to see the fast runners in any of that junk. Hmmm ... interesting, no?

* Try-to-be-trendy: These are the folks who are wearing last year's trend. They don't know that short-skirts are out and the real running community mocked them all along. ;)

* Over-dressed: 75 degrees. Running 13.1 miles. In pants. Long sleeve. And gloves. Ho-k. I mean, I guess you could somehow still be cold in those conditions. But I am just not sure how.

* Dolled-up: These are the girls who curled their hair, sprayed it, or whatever at 4:30 am before running 13.1 miles. And oddly enough, it all stays exactly where they put it ... and they still look super cute crossing the finish line.

* Matchy-matchy-green-sweaters: No, I didn't actually see any runners in green sweaters. But these are the peeps who intentionally come to the race wear matching clothes. It reminds me of family reunions as Disneyland where you all wear the same shirt. I guess it helps if you forgot who you were running with.

* The boyfriend/husband runner: First off, I clearly need one of these. This is the guy who is running with his cute girlfriend/wife and clearly going at her pace. He's practically taking a stroll through the park and being super supportive as she strenuously goes on. And no, this does not mean every girl has one of these and no, this does not mean all girls couldn't be their significant other. :)

* Those who shouldn't have ran: Absolutely no offense to these people. I was going to be one of these people until 9:00pm last night. Too motivated for your own good but then you are either bleeding from a lost limb or limping from a tendon that decided to detach. Given, of course these things could happen even if you weren't injured beforehand, but I saw an adorable girl walking with her shoes off, blood dripping from her legs and when I asked her if she was okay she said, "Yup. Just shouldn't have ran." Ohhh, that could have been me. :)

and one of my favorites ...

* The Kenyan: Too fast for the human eye to comprehend, the only time you see them is in the paper the next day for actually winning the race...at half the time it took you to run it. They've already moved on to training for the next one while you're still puking in a garbage can.

Can you think of any others? More importantly, which one are YOU? :)

The thing I think is best about running is that all of these people can sign up for a race and do it. Anyone can do it. You can be the world-record holder or someone who has to stop and walk - but you can still do it. I think it is the most welcoming sport out there. And if you haven't picked it up, maybe you should.

I would like to end this post with an optimistic comment like, "And now I am going to go run myself!"

But no ... No, Mr. Angry Achilles and I will not be running today. We will be ... eating food. And sitting on the couch. ;)

And since this was a crasy post just about running ... 100 gold stars if you read the entire thing. Word.


I have like 10 things ...

I want to blog about.

But I have been insanely busy and when all is said and done for the day, the last thing I want to do is upload pictures and talk about them.

However, there are some things I want to blog about that I feel need to be done like now {or at the beginning of this week}. So the longer I hold off, the further away we are from now or the beginning of this week. Does this paragraph make sense?

Also, I think I have made an executive decision about the half marathon that takes place tomorrow ...

Even though I am injured and have not been able to run at all in August and my longest run this entire summer was five miles back in June ... I am in.

Well, I was in ... Until I woke up this morning with Mr. Achilles griping at me more than it has in three weeks.


If I ran the little bugger I am not even sure I could finish ... I fear Mr. Achilles will give out and I would somehow have to contact my mama to come pick me up.

Yet ... I think I am still able to be persuaded ... What think ye?

Should I run? With angry Mr. Achilles? Or just give him a longer break than he's already gotten?

My decision will be based upon the response I get on this blog.

No pressure.

Peace out, boy scout {P.s. My mom evidently does not enjoy it when I say this to her ... she says she has never been a boy scout and never will be ... something to do with not being a boy? She even threatened giving me some man-related nickname. Bring it, Mom. Bring it}.


I might be a brat ...

As previously mentioned ... I am looking to move.


For someone who didn't move at all the first 13 years of her life ... 10 times in the last six seems a bit much.

Until I was 22 I had never had a roommate {unless you count Tiffy-wiffy-poo-poo-pants when we were youngins, but even that was a brief stint}. In the last six years I have had 17 rommmates {with one of those being the same person for over four years}.

I know, I know ... "Enough with the random numbers, Mindy! What is your point?"

My point is actually this ... said over-four-year-roommate and I went around Logan looking for either a studio apartment or a one-bedroom apartment for myself {she will not be moving with me ... I guess the violin lessons don't make her want to poke her eyeballs out like me} ... I never knew of the extreme dumpiness of apartments available in Logan, Utah.

In fact, I am a little bit heated over it ... Ready for another tirade? :)

It bothers me that these landlords {truth be told, it is primarily one ... who has over 200 tenants in town} have absolutely no pride in their properties. It bothers me that they don't even care to try and make the living conditions even somewhat pleasant. It disheartens me that there are people who don't know that there is better out there and attempt to seek it.

Honestly, I looked at several places that were twice as much as what I am paying now {and about a fourth of the size of my currently place, or smaller!} and it wasn't that they were old or just needed a cleaning ... they were utterly disgusting. I feel badly for people who have no other choice than to live in those kinds of conditions ... but I am IRATE that the persons responsible choose to allow those conditions to exist.

AND, if you are charging $425 for a studio apartment that is barely large enough to fit a bed in it, you have the financial means to keep that little studio in the most tip-top shape in Logan!

I also must say if you have too many rentals to actually show someone around, then maybe you have too many rentals.

After my little jaunt of apartment hunting I said to my roommate, "I must be a high maintenance snob. Seriously, they couldn't PAY me to live here." She disagreed with the statement because she agreed with the shockingly horrific conditions we saw.

I wanted to take some photos just to give you an idea {too badly I cannot include the smells}.

This first one is the entry way to some studio apartments. For the love, just put tile in! Poorly nailing plastic on top of the already disgusting carpet does not keep anything clean ... in fact, it just allows for more filth to accumulate and get moldy and all nastified.

And inside?

Uhm, ho-k.

And the window ...

Really, I might just be a snob. But ghetto-much??? This photo captures a scene of someone either jumping to their death out this window or being pushed to the same fate.

This one isn't so much disgusting ... but if this woman comes with the apartment, thank but no thanks.

And the actual kicker of having to say no to this one is the size of this closet ....

Do we think Mindy's clothes would fit in there? {Actually, the nastiness of this studio was too grotesque to photograph. No lie. Unless you like to see things in toilets that shouldn't be}.

The next place was probably the worst I saw ... check out this entrance {cigarette butts all along the stairway}.

And to the side of the stairway to hell ...

I am pretty sure I could be killed right there ... at least a Lifetime movie could be made about my tragic life death, no? :)

Continuing onward into the complex ...

The long, dumpy, dingy hallways make me think they could belong in a horror film where some tragic girl is running away from her attacker but the hallways just keep going, and going. This place, more so than all others, is where I wish I could collect the smell and allow my fellow blog readers to get a taste of what I experienced.



I am gagging now just thinking of it.

No lie.

Oh, and lest we forget the unphotographed place that had a plunger on the living room floor. I am sorry, but I do not want something that has been in the toilet on my living room carpet. Mm-k? Thanks.

And so, the search of a livable apartment continues.

Needlessly to say, I shall keep you updated.

P.s. If I have offended anyone in any way, shape or form, for any reason {particularly if you live/own in these locations or live/own rentals with conditions similar to these or SMELL like these ... I do apologize-ish}. :)


A little insight to the BYU/WAC/MWC fiasco ...

This will most likely only be entertaining to those who have an idea of what went on last week concerning the WAC conference and the MWC conference ... Because of this, I will give anyone who watches it to its entirety, 100 gold stars. :) If you have a clue what this is about, give yourself 100 more. :)



Ambitious goal ...

I am going to try and not eat out this week. At all.

Except Friday doesn't count because Adam and I are going to meet up on his way out {he's moving far, far away!}.

And possibly going out with Avree on Tuesday evening for ice cream {Hey, Avree ... would you like to go out Tuesday for ice cream?}.

But besides that ... I.am.not.going.to.eat.out.at.all.

Truth be told, I am not entirely sure I can do it.

In other breaking news, for some reason with my adorable font used for the titles of my posts, I cannot use a colon. Well, I can, but it just doesn't show up. Which, saddens my heart. Deeply. But I keep telling myself if that is my biggest concern in the world, maybe I shouldn't be too concerned.

But who are we kidding? It's not my biggest concern. My biggest concern is a combination of Global Warming, why I don't have a countdown to the first Aggie basketball game yet, and where did my USU Homecoming Fun Run t-shirt go from 1997? Yes, there are clearly way more important things to worry about than a colon that doesn't show up on my post title.


The bugglet & the light fixture ...

It was interesting to see this little bugglet.

In all his persistence.

In all his stubbornness.

Completely convinced that his way was the right way.

As I saw this struggle, I couldn't help but think that this relationship could likely mirror our relationships with our God. How many times are we completely convinced that our way is the right way? How many times do we persist in something thinking it will become the right thing if we persist long enough {or in bugglet's case, persist in the exact same way, just from a different direction}?

As I continued to watch the struggle {and film it and exploit little bugglet} I thought of how much more I knew than little bugglet ... I had a perspective and an understanding he did not. I wanted to cry out to the little bugglet {who are we kidding, I did}, "That won't work. No matter how hard you try. You will not make it through that light fixture ... Trust me, I know."

How often does our Father with superior and complete knowledge, understanding and perspective try call out to us to try His way? How often does He call out to us to trust Him and that infinite, alpha and omega knowledge? And when He does ... are you like the little bugglet? Because I know too many times ... I am.

Sometimes, we give up our way, our wants, and our desires for His.

Because it is our faith that He not only knows what is best for us, but wants what is best for us. And I am not sure about you, but I take comfort in that. And I will have faith in that. And I will trust in that.

What will you do?


So, since little bugglet hitting the light was almost as annoying as my AC unit {pre-tape days}, I attempted to usher him out of my room. Fruitlessly, I might add. And to protect my sanity ... I resulted in capturing him with a tissue. And ending his life. Via the toilet. Don't worry, I apologized for ending his life in advance. P.s. This part of the story does not relate to our Heavenly Father at all ... because if squishing us up in a tissue and flushing us down a toilet was an option due to stubbornness, I would have been gone a long time ago. ;)


Also, I am thinking I am done with roommates. I am too old for roommates. I need to know that the dirty dishes in the sink are mine and that if the house is a mess it is totally and completely my fault. And I want to be able to get into the shower whenever I want and kick people out of my house when I go to bed ... and not have to have violin lessons in my home {sometimes taught by a complete stranger}. I know this is a stretch, but does anyone know of either studio apartments or one bedroom apartments available in Logan?



I'm injured. Again.

Why does my Achilles tendon hate me?

Actually, it's the thin sheath around my tendon.

Achilles Tenosynovitis is the medical term.

While I currently cannot run {and haven't been able for quite sometime}... I think I am still running the half marathon in two weeks.

And yup, my longest run this summer was five miles about two months ago. I haven't actually gone on a run since that one ... But I can run the half. Yup. I can.

Watch me {actually, don't watch me ... I will look exhausted, out of shape, and near death}. But I shall do it. Probably in a cute pink tank top too.

I'm a little bit picky ...

with confirmed Facebook friends. Now, if any of you have taken a gander at the number I have {914} ... you might be a bit skeptical. But really, not too long ago I purged over 200 Facebook "friends."

I get requests often from people that I knew in high school or middle school ... that I never talked to while in high school or middle school. Pray tell, why would I talk to you on Facebook if I never talked to you in person?

I also get requests from people I.do.not.know.at.all.

Uhm, no thanks.

However, the Facebook friend request drama {to confirm or not to confirm!?} reached new heights the other day when I got this friend request in my inbox:


Did I or did I not just post this several weeks ago?

Speaking of Golden Corral reminded me of this Facebook status ... "Note to self:
having surgery and giving blood in the same week is a bad Idea!! Blacked out in
Golden Corral!" Naturally, I responded with, "Your problem wasn't the surgery or
the giving blood ... It was the fact that you were at Golden Corral! I would
black out there too! Who wouldn't? ;)" ... Some might say there was no sympathy
in that response and I would answer them with, you're right. It's Golden Corral,
Why, yes ... Yes, I did.
So, with much regret {read as none} I must inform Golden Corral, "Thanks, but no thanks. I will not be your Facebook friend for two reasons: 1. You are not a human and 2. I loathe you. But really, thanks for asking."

Now, why do I post this? To let you know that maybe, just maybe if you are lucky enough, non-humans will want to be your friends on Facebook too.

Jealous much? Maybe you should be. Just sayin'.


Apparently ...

When I hold small children, I have to wear this shirt {Jan-net, you can actually click on words written in pink ... go ahead, try it} ...

At least this baby looks .09% more excited to be in my arms ... right?

The adorable baby belongs to one of my bestest friends of all time, Heather Anne {Anne is not really her middle name ... but doesn't it sound nice? In high school I would always say, "Heather Anne smells like a man." And by "in high school" I mean I still do it ... in fact I just wrote her an email today with that. And no, she doesn't actually smell like a man. But notice how that doesn't stop me}.

Heather was in town last week and I was able to go to dinner with her and her two babes.

The wee-one is actually sleeping ... And Heather Anne assured me over and over that this is the most comfortable position for him. He loooves it. I am not a bad baby holder. I promise. Children do like me. They do. I just have no evidence of this. And definitely no evidence of it while wearing this shirt.

Anyway, I heart my Heather Anne and her babes. And this shirt. Apparently. That's all.



I have a client at work that does not like to get into his parents' car when it time to go home. On many occasions it has taken seven staff, plus the client's father to get him in the car. And even then, he sometimes jumps out as the car is driving off.

Same client loves snow cones.

One staff smartly suggested us providing said client with a snow cone as incentive {read as bribery} to get him into the car. Said staff informed me that for our summer program earlier that week had had snow cones ... ice had been crushed and there was even some snow cone syrup left over.

All sounded great. Definitely worth a try.

Until I was informed I would be the one making the concoction.

But I was assured that it wouldn't be that difficult. Put crushed ice into cup. Pour syrup over ice. Add spoon.

The end.

I pulled out the BUBBLE GUM flavor.


What color would you fancy that to be?

Let's get a closer look.

Yup. Brown bubble gum snow cone syrup.

I thought maybe after I mixed it up a bit it would look more pink-ish.


Not quite sure what I did wrong. It apparently was pink when other staff made it.

So, yup ... I am still the most domestic person I know.

Always have been. Always will be.

Oh, and the client? He pushed it away and tried to dump it out.

Surprise, surprise, no?

And, no. He did not get in his dad's car either.

And, yes. I just ate third dinner.

And, although you cannot see it, the shirt I am wearing in the photo is the one from the girls' section at Old Navy. Word.


This is a light pole ...

Can you fancy how it got that way?

Watch out world ... flying trampolines are dangerous.

And so is Craig M. from the Bachelorette ... not that I watched that show. Because I didn't.

And really, that is all today's post is about. Feel free to thank me for educating you on public safety. You are welcome. kthanksbye.


The day I went insane ...

About a month ago one of two things was going to happen ...

1. I was going to die from the excessive, unbearable heat in my adorable little house {there.is.no.AC}.


2. My roommate could sacrifice her little window AC unit that she wasn't using and my adorable little landlord could install it into my window.

Since I am typing this, I am assuming you can accurately guess which occurred.

Before I go any further in this post you must understand a couple things about this AC unit:

a) I love it.
b) It is older than I am.
c) It rattles. A lot.
d) After it being on for 30 minutes or so, I get a sore throat.

But, c and d are okay because of a.

Although, I must admit ... I had tried just about everything to stop the rattling. Oddly enough, a couple things worked, but for one reason or another, they would stop working.

Anywhoot to add to this story ... last week I gave myself an unthinkable assignment. I will not go into details of said unthinkable assignment ... but it involved a lot of time doing something. Naturally, this had to be done in my room so I did not overheat and ... what was it again? Oh, yes ... die!

So, as I was reading ... and the rattling became unbearable. I tried all of my previous solutions to stop the rattling to see if they'd work. No such luck.

Then it hit me.


Oh, how I love tape.

So, I taped a little here. A little there.

I went back to my reading.

All was good.

But a small rattling persisted.

Add more tape.

I went back to my reading.

All was good.

An even smaller rattling persisting.

Add more tape.

All was good.

And even smaller rattling persisting.

Add more tape.

Mindy and the AC unit fought for at least two hours.

Mindy about went insane.

But she didn't ...

And Mindy won the battle.


And the AC unit ended up looking a little somethin-somethin like this:

Yup ... each piece of tape served a purpose of silencing the rattling. Notice the pieces on the right side that aren't even actually on the unit itself.

Good thing I don't have Autistic tendencies, isn't it?

And it's a good thing I regained any potential loss of my sanity, right?

I am normal. I am. Right?

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