This reminds me of me ...

Because I blogged 30 days in the month of June.

No need to thank me.

Buuuut ...
Feel free to throw money in my general direction.
P.s. Today was a good day. A really, really good day. Happy birthday to Whitters. I love you, woman! Plus, I got to attend a wedding at the Logan Temple for the now Mrs. Bilodeau! And if I take a break from blogging tomorrow, which I think I will ... happy birthday to Em! We need to go canoeing in excessively large pants under an extremely large bridge! :)


Seeking employment?

Recently I was informed a great employment opportunity here in Logan.

This just clearly has my name all over it ...

Bear River Health (@BearRiverHealth)
6/27/11 2:17 PM

Looking for a job a few hours a week and are passionate about breastfeeding? Take a look.

"Take a look"? Probably not the best choice of wording for this particular position, no?
But wait, it gets better ...
WIC Peer Counselor



Title: WIC Peer Counselor Grade: 9 Step: 1 Wage: $9.57/hr

Division: WIC-Logan Closing Date: 6/30/2011

Description: Part time (2-4 hrs per week) – Non Benefited

Summary of Duties:

Under the general supervision of the Breastfeeding Coordinator, provides basic breastfeeding information and encouragement to WIC pregnant and breastfeeding mothers; assist WIC clients with breastfeeding concerns, mostly by phone, occasionally in person at the WIC office or other locations. Attend meetings occasionally to update training. Assists the Breastfeeding Coordinator with assigned tasks assigned.

Minimum Qualifications Education & Experience:

Paraprofessional support person.
Must have successfully breastfed at least one child. (Does not have to be currently breastfeeding).
Willing to be trained to assist women with common breastfeeding concerns.
Ability to communicate with clients in person or on the phone.
Organizational skills required. No formal degree is required.
Must be fluent in English. Spanish speaking a plus.
Minimum Qualifications Necessary Knowledge, Skills & Abilities:
Is enthusiastic about breastfeeding and wants to help other mothers enjoy a positive experience.
Can work 2 – 4 hours bi-weekly, including some time in WIC clinic
Has a telephone and is willing to make and receive phone calls.

Special Qualifications:

Must possess or be able to obtain a valid Utah Driver License at the time of employment.

Must be able to provide own transportation

Must be able to lift 30 pounds and be able to perform strenuous activities requiring flexibility, stamina, and overall general good health.

Must have a flexible schedule, available for work in the evenings and/or weekends as job requires.

First and foremost, did you catch the part about working directly under the Breastfeeding Coordinator?

Never.in.my.long.legged.life. would I had ever guessed that could actually be someone's job title.

"Oh, you work at Bear River Mental Health? What do you do there?"

"I am the Breastfeeding Coordinator."

But I digress.

My strongest attribute for this position? I do indeed have a telephone!

Biggest draw back? Well, uhm ... not to get major personal with you all, but I have never successfully breastfed a child. 

But I am sooo totally enthusiastic about breastfeeding.

Particularly public breastfeeding.

Particularly the woman who I have witnessed breastfeed all three of her bebes at the Utah State basketball games over the last decade. And yes, this is the same woman whom my family and I lovingly refer to as, "Got Milk?" when we see her in town.

And now would probably be the most opportune time to tell you how extremely classy I think the name of this company is. Because I am positive that every woman loves being referred to as a heifer, right?

 And those are all my thoughts for today ... meaning, I don't have much time to spend on such frivolous things like blogging when I need to be applying for the this job, after all the application is due tomorrow!


Thank you, Bachelorette ...

The most shameful thing I think I do in my life is ... watch the Bachelorette.

I don't know why I do it. I actually hate the show.

Annnd, I am totally bored by it. In fact, my roommates and I have discussed alternative things to do while the show is on, like play Twister for example ... or Monkeys on the Ground.

This week I tried to make the show educational, probably a side effect from my Hoarders post. Here are the things I learned from watching this week:

A great place to start is at the start.

Bug bites are sexy {which is great because I became a delicious treat to multiple mosquitoes at my softball game tonight}.

When someone is being completely, entirely 100% truthful, they stutter on their words. A lot.

GIRLS, there are no dot, dot, dots when it comes to guys. Oh, of course they will tell you there are, after all they want all options available. However, if they wanted to be dating you - they would be. It's.just.not.that.complicated.

The technical term for dot, dot, dots are ellipses. Oh, wait. The Bachelorette didn't teach me that and it wouldn't teach anyone that. It's too big of a word so by all means, stick with the dot, dot, dot.

If you like a guy, the best way to show him is by incessantly pressing your own lips together. It is a fantastic flirting technique.

If you get annoyed when the bachelorette also incessantly talks about the scumbag of the earth, Bentley, it isn't as annoying if you get to throw a pillow at your roommate every time she does it.

Speaking of the scumbag of the earth, did anyone else bust into song when she said, "I can see clearly now that Bentley's gone" ... It's gonna be a bright, BRIGHT sunshiny day?

If you are bored by another "downtown date", threaten to spit on your roommates each time it occurs in the future. It adds some flavah to the night.

In all honesty, shouldn't all dates in life be one-on-one???? Really, think about this peeps, would you ever consider going on a one-on-twelve date in real life? Meaning YOU are one of the 12 opposed to being the one?

Which leads us to the fact of if you have to use the term "in real life" isn't that a red flag that something is amiss with what you are currently doing? If it isn't real it must be fakeFake life = fake relationship much?

The bachelorette and I have one thing in common. I think I just gagged a little bit ... It is always fantastic to use as many superlatives as many times as you always can daily. However, it should be noted that hers always refer to dates and mine never do. Mine usually manifest themselves in "Best day of my life!" and "Worst day of my life!" ... Which are both always said at least once every day of my life. And usually within 10 minutes of each other.

If you are going to get smoked in something, you might as well be smoked salmon. It just seems fancier than smoked cheese or smoked beef jerky, no?

Winning dragon trophies apparently help you win roses ... Errr, a woman's heart.

Yes, your relationship with someone is totally and completely unique even though she is dating SEVEN other men. Yup. Yup. Yup.

Can anyone be truly surprised that they have failed at making someone feel "special" when you are dating those seven other men?

Hong Kong is apparently just like the NYC.

See-through shirts {particularly white ones with black underclothing underneath them} are not only classy and must be worn every flippin' day of your life, but they are also whimsical, romantic and play a major role in falling in love. Guuuuessss what I will be wearing to work tomorrow? {Strike that, that makes it sound like I want to be whimsical and romantic at work ... I want to be whimsical and romantic everywhere!}

Nooooo ... Noooo, this show is not just one hour. We.are.not.that.lucky.

And finally, if the Bachelorette has taught me anything last night, it has taught me this: avoid the ugly cry. Avoid the ugly cry at all costs.

And that's all I have to say about that.


Four girls in a house ...

sharing a bathroom ... 
 and a half.

All their shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash and shavers co-existing in one tub.

The question is this:

how many of each item do you think there are in that one tub that belong to just those four girls?

1,000 gold stars for whomever guesses the closest.

And a special prize to be mailed out to the winner too!

Let the guessing begin!


Tomorrow morning ...

at the eight o'clock hour, the alarm on my phone will sound.

To remind me of an event I put in there.

What is the event?



What is that supposed to mean?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Speaking of your guess ... what is it?

Because I am a little bothered that I concluded this "event" was important enough to be put in my calendar {I put about five things in it annually} and put in a reminder alarm on said event ... only to not have a clue what I should be doing once that alarm sounds.


The edge of complete insanity.

And no, I wasn't already there.

Thanks for asking.

But instead of pestering me with your asinine questions, let's get back to the focal point here:

What on this green earth does "Forty-two" entail????



Thank you, Hoarders ...

for teaching me the following things {WARNING. May not be suitable for young children}:

No one should ever own 50,000 dolls. Strike that. No one should own 50,000 of anything {with perhaps the exception of dollars I 'spose}.

That employees of 1-800-GOT-JUNK? probably didn't read the fine print in their job description.

That it's perfectly normal to miss a moldy pumpkin.

Possums, goats and raccoons aren't actually house pets.  

Inside your home is not the appropriate burial grounds for any animal.
Rats can eat through phone books quicker than humans.
And not only that, 2,500 rats make the perfect replacement companion when a loved one passes away.
Anyone who renames themselves Patrick Donovan Flanagan O’Shannahanand their house Camelot, thinks they are a leprechaun and keeps a blow-up lady in the passenger seat of his car could very likely be a pedophile.

3,000 pounds of poop is a lot of poop. Plus, the best place to store human waste just might be in a water bottle or a plastic bag, in a closet ... with the hundreds of other plastic bags of human waste.

Apparently we are "all four or five decisions away from pooping in a bucket" ...

Which is why keeping a couple of episodes of Hoarders on DVR and watching them on those days you just don't feel like tidying up comes in handy. Real handy.

If you define youryself as being picky and a perfectionist yet you haven't seen your floor in seven years, then yes, people are going to seriously doubt you.

It's hard to say no to dumpster diving, especially if it's "just gleaming with stuff, good stuff."

If you think it can be reused or someone else can get some use of it, it shouldn't go anywhere near the garbage can.

There's a store that sells frog and chicken purses ... and people who buy them.

The sooner the water gets shut off, the sooner you can put the toilet in the bathtub and make room for more stuff.

Expiration dates are completely optional. What is really important is whether the container is puffy or not.

For every live cat, there are two dead ones in the garage.

Speaking of cats ... cats and hoarders are attracted to each other like pb and j.

It's okay to continue to dumpster dive while taping an episode of "Hoarders".

If a homeless man is living in the junk in your front yard and you didn't know it - you might have too much junk in your front yard. And it is always a good gesture for the homeless man to assist with the rest of the clean up.

I never want to eat any homemade goodies from anyone unless I have been to their house first and know what is inside it.

"I'm not a good housekeeper" is a bit of an understatement when there are mummified kitten remains in your house, and cat poo ground into your floor.

Ignoring cat poop and getting used to the odor of cat poop is an extremely effective way to deal with cat poop.

Which leads us to the obvious fact: hoarders must not have a sense of smell.

Solid objects can drip.

And lastly, NEVER eat while watching this show. EVER. No exceptions, unless you don't mind if that particular food is ruined for you forevermore ... RIP Cheetos.

P.s. Did I leave anything out?


Hello, Tom. It's nice to meet you. And you are attractive.

I know we talk about Tom.

A lot.

Tom Welling that is.

But hear me out.

Apparently I met him today.

I arrived to work to find this my desk:

Accompanied with this note:

With the arrow pointing to the paper mouth.

I said hi to the paper mouth Tom Welling.

And when I assisted him in opening his mouth to say hi back to me, this is what he had to say:

Yes, Tom. You are the most attractive.

I think it is safe to say said co-worker from our discussion yesterday is okay with being less attractive than Tom Welling, right?

P.S. Tom is now living in my kitchen.


It's thats time of year again ...

when I complain incessantly about how flamin' hot my house is and how it makes me want to just die.
Because I feel totally yucky.

Because we don't have air conditioning.

Because excessive heat is my kryptonite.

Speaking of kryptonite, I might have accidentally told a co-worker that he definitely was not as attractive as Tom Welling.


Which is weird because I didn't feel like I had reached the danger zone of excessive heat, which can clearly be the only explanation of why I would say such a thing.

Obviously I was wrong.

Because why else would I make a comment like that unless my kryptonite was around?

It is the quickest way to make me feel like garbage/die and want to kill people all at one time.

At least it isn't my fault, right?

Oh, and in case you were wondering, there is no way digging yourself out of the "You're not as attractive as Tom Welling" comment, so avoid it at all costs.

P.s. Apparently I can still be a Jazz fan. Phew. That takes a bit of the edge off. For now.



I've never been one to toot my own horn.

But I suppose there is an exception for everything.

I was at my parents' house today looking through some of my things. I came across some papers from high school and college, including the two poems my AP English teacher asked that I get published.

I declined.

One was about lawn mowing.

Who really publishes poems about lawn mowing?

But I digress.

I came across an assignment said AP English teacher had given us. It was to write down five things that we had learned that week. As I read it tonight I thought, "Man, I am brilliant!"

Seriously, a perceptive little bugger I was back in the day.

These are the five things I learned one random week in high school:

If you come to a fork in the road ... pick it up.

I cannot win a card game against the students I peer tutor in Special Ed., even when I cheat.

Believing in yourself is one of the greatest powers to possess.

If you are missing someone, chances are, they are missing you too.

You shouldn't settle for mediocrity. It's too easy.

Some people just might pay for advice that good! Especially the one about the fork, no?

I've probably given the most thought to number four {even though I didn't number them}. I don't know if I believe that to be true anymore. Sigh. And frown.

But let's focus on three and five. Brilliant, no?

Especially because those profound pontifications came from 18-year-old me.


I am now motivated to come up with a list of five things I have learned this week.


In the meantime, what have you learned this week?


This photo ...

exists today to tell you one of two things:

a. It is bi-annual Mindy has straight hair day


b. I like wearing a loofah sponge on my head as a headband.

Take your pick.

P.s. My roommate just walked in and said, "Oh, my gosh! I didn't even recognize you! Would you say you wear your hair straight like twice a year?!"

Yes. Yes, I would.

She didn't mention the loofah on my head, which pleases me. Because if one more person questioned if it was a loofah, I might reconsider my ability to dress myself.

Which does tell you that she was not the first person to ask if it was a loofah.


But how credible is someone with the last name that is pronounced suh-pull-vuh-duh?

I just might rather have a loofah on my head than have a last name that is pronounced suh-pull-vu-duh, wouldn't you?

Okay, I guess I better go on a run now, even though I don't want to get warmer than I already am. And even though I would rather be eating peanut M&Ms with large chunks of peanut butter on them ... or taking a nap.

Peace out.


Stirring the pot ...

On Facebook is easy to do.

Really easy to do.

I should know. I somehow, inadvertently {hopefully needlessly to say}, push buttons. Most recently with a comment about how redonculous it is to see 934,89,238,598,430,598,304,958,345.7 posts about "I have the BEST dad EVER" {or something like unto it. And yes, this includes those as equally redonculous statuses throughout the year when hubby does something oh-so-grand for you and you give the clarion declaration of love on Facebook, "I have THE BEST HUSBAND EVER!"}.

Here's the issue: semantics.

I am not debating whether or not your dad/husband/wife/child/mom/whoever is great. I have no reason to believe s/he's not great. But to say s/he is THE best is a bit, well, redonculous. It is redonculous for at least two reasons that I can think of right off the top of my head:

1. There is no system that I am currently aware of that rates the bestness of dads/moms/spouses/children. This is why the sports world is so flippin' fantastic. They have bestness systems worked out pretty dern well {yes, dern}. Naturally, there will be some flaws, but for the extreme most part someone can raise their hands in victory and say, "On this day, I was the best." But then again ... those are competitions. Is being a dad/husband/mom/wife/child/whatever a competition? Which leads into my next point:

2. Do they realize they are putting down every other husband/wife/mom/dad/child when they make those statements? Because if someone is THE BEST, it makes everyone else NOT the best. Weird how that works. And audacious too. P.s. Isn't audacious a fun word? I have personally been meeting a lot of audacious people in the last week, which is great because it's so fun to say.

In honor of stirring the pot on Facebook, which apparently I do so well so frequently, here are THE BEST ;) two ways I have found to do so:

2. Post something, anything political. This is a shoo-in. But still only second best.

The absolute number one way to stir the pot and get some undies in a wad on Facebook is to post ...

1. A status of anything not pro-BYU. I am not even talking anti-BYU, just something that isn't completely and entirely PRO.

Go ahead. Try it. I dare you. I triple dog dare you. Go change your Facebook status to something not pro-BYU or something political and see how you can stir that ol' big pot. It's sometimes fun. :) And 500 gold stars are at stake for you pot-stirer wannabes!

P.s. Here are some examples of classy ways to let your mom/dad/husband/wife/child know they are great but not by using the term, "THE BEST": here, here, here, here and here ... just to share a few.

Buuut, I suppose you don't have to change your FB and blogging habits for me, right? Weird how life doesn't work that way. Besides, to assume you would change for me might be a tad redonculous and even more so audacious, no? ;)

I have also concluded that the people who get stirred by my FB comments {and who knows - maybe by my blog posts too??} don't understand my sense of humor. Because if they did, clearly what I have written would be received flippin' fantastically. ;)


Hollywood messing with your mind again ...

Leo Dicaprio never died in Titanic.

His end scene in Titanic is of him going under water ...

The beginning scene in Inception is him waking up on a beach.

A movie within a movie, no?

You're welcome for clearing that up.

Feel free to also thank me for not having the audacity to say that my dad is the best dad in the world and by doing so inadvertently putting down every other dad in said world. But I will say this, word to Style on Father's Day. :)


I biked with Brent ...

And it was a wonderful day!
Here is the man of the hour!

Brent takes off with everyone else in tow!
There were about 300 in attendance and not everyone was able to bike. Some were pushed in their wheelchairs. 

Others walked.  

I was assigned other duties, so I technically didn't get to bike either.
But all had a maaarvelous time.
 It was a wonderful day that not only celebrated Brent who has given so much to our community for so many years, but to all of these amazing people. And how blessed I am to work with so many of them.

P.s. Shout out to my brother, Brandon, on his 36th birthday. Oh.my.gosh. You.are.so.old!


The day I drowned a really, really large ant ...

was today.

I went into the downstairs bathroom to brush my teeth and there he was ... a really, really large ant.

The ironic thing about this was that I had dreamt about really, really large ants that night/morning.

Weird, no? When what you dream actually occurs ... I might even go with creepy. Especially considering the dream was about a really, really large ant.

I can only pray that the other part of the dream doesn't come true. No, it wasn't about anything disturbing {like the snake infested house or my typical Mindy-gets-shot-down-and-is-crawling-on-the-ground-leaving-a-trail-of-blood-behind-her dreams, nor being tracked down by the Nazis}. It was worse.

But I digress.

I really want to still talk about that really, really large ant.

I found it in the sink in the bathroom.

It had no purpose to be there, considering it is my house, my bathroom and my sink.

So I did the only thing I could ... I turned on the water. To drown the little suckah!

I left the water on for about 20 seconds, envisioning the best case scenario {for the really, really large ant}, the water washing the really, really large ant down the pipes so far that he could never return again ... And the worst case scenario {for the really, really large ant}: suffocation, also resulting in never returning again.

Unfortunately, I learned a lesson about really, really large ants today. They are resilient as heck! He somehow managed to find a way to make it back up the pipe and into my sink, in my bathroom, in my house!

So, just to prove to him that humans.trump.insects, I grabbed the really, really large ant with a tissue and dropped him in the porcelain throne. I.then.flushed.it. A true test of his resilience, no? I think it is safe to say to the really, really large ant, "Peace out, Boy Scout." And I did. And it pleased me.

P.s. Today was our Bike with Brent event. Yesterday we received t-shirts to wear to the event. They actually say on it, "I biked with Brent". And as I put it on this morning I felt like a liar, because I had not actually rode with him ... yet. I felt like a liar for approximately three point five hours. And I hate feeling like a liar.  This has nothing to do with the really, really large ant, yet I felt like it needed to be said. And now I shall repeat to you what I said to the really, really large ant, "Peace out, Boy Scouts." :)

Oh, and I was paid one kjillion dollars to put this birthday shout-out on my blog today: Happy Birthday Katie Louise Farr!!


Things that make you go "Hmm?" ...

brought to you by Lee's Market Place {yes, that was written in the tune of the little radio jingle}.

Uhm, if he gets a promotion do you think he gets the Unfrozen or Thawed Manager position?
P.s. My laptop is dying and the charger doesn't appear to be working. Things that make you go, "Uuuugh" accompanied with a frown. However, favorite brother-in-law Shteve says he will fix it. I better click "publish post" super quick. And then I will eat three donuts. One chocolate swirl and two blueberry. Not from Lee's. Macey's instead. Their blueberry donuts are muy bueno. And yes, I have been on a Spanish/bueno kick lately. I am not sure how it started and I am not sure how it will end. But for now, adios! P.s. Congrats to Brookie and Adam! They got hitched today! This makes me more optimistic that one day in the near future she will have a blog. :)


Just in case you were wondering ...

Seeing this in a dressing room ...

will make Mindy gag one kjillion times out of one kjillion.

Let's actually strike that.

Seeing that anywhere ... will make me gag on kjillion times out of one kjillion.

Also as equally extremely more horrifying {didn't think that was possible, did ya?}, check this out. Probably the most horrific thing I have heard in a long, long, long time. So disturbing that I might have nightmares about it {the only thing more horrifying is tree man ... THAT is so horrific I cannot even bring myself to give you a link to it. I cannot even believe I am talking about, I have tried to block every memory of that and do pretty well until something like this comes along. Dry.heave}.

But don't blame me for sharing that with you. Blame Mikey, because he showed it to me. Plus it's always more fun to blame things on other people, especially Mikey.

And now I need to go run. And listen to nice, happy songs that will erase every snakes and tree man, because the used bandaid in the dressing room has clearly become the least of my concerns at this point.

That's all.


Potentially offensive ...

My brother and little sister have coined a phrase.

It may or may not be "dump in the drawers."

The term refers to those unfortunate souls, bless their hearts, who look like ... they have, well, taken a dump in their drawers.

I couldn't help but think of my brother and little sister when I was at Old Navy tonight ...

Dump in the drawers much?

And don't even pretend you didn't enjoy this post.

That's all. I gotta go win a company softball game tonight so we can have donuts tomorrow at work.


Comment Card

You know how at restaurants and other places, but primarily restaurants because I cannot think of any other place that does this actually, that they give you little comments cards to better their service?

Well, consider this your comment card.

Help me help you by filling out the following.

Welcome! And thank you for taking the time to fill out our comment card! We're here to serve you in our own unique fashion, but in order to improve, we need your input! Simply answer the questions below to the best of your ability and then drop your computer into a postage prepaid, well-cushioned shipping crate and send it to the address at the bottom of the card. We'll be sure to boot up your system and read what you had to say. {Be sure to not delete any of your temporary internet files. Also, be sure to include any necessary access passwords.} If you would like your computer returned afterward, simply enclose twenty dollars {cash or check} in the package before you mail it. {Alternately, you can just e-mail us back with your answers or leave them in the comments section this blog, but that's the less adventurous approach. We'll leave that up to your discretion.}

Once again, thank you ever so much for your important feedback!

- The "Management"

1. What is your name?

2. How did you first hear about us?

A. A friend
B. At random
C. Darth Vader from the planet Vulcan told you that if I didn't read you he'd turn your brains to jello.
D. Other: _________________________

3. What is your primary reason for visiting this blog?

A. Information
B. Entertainment
C. Morbid curiosity
D. Alleviate poking.your.eyeballs.out.from.boredom
E. Decor Ideas
F. Mindy's parents are paying you
G. Affirmation that there are still those crazier than yourself
H. To earn Gold Stars
I. Recipes
J. Anxiously awaiting more of Mindy's "fashion" blogs
K. The circumfrence of Mindy's child's head
L. Birthing stories that mention the words "bear down" and bodily fluids
M. Parenting advice from Mindy
N. Other: _________________________

4. On a scale of 0-6, how well has this reason been met?
[0 = Not well at all - I don't know why I even bother, 3 = As well as can be expected, 6 = Far too well - in fact, you're creeping me out by your excessive fulfillment.]

5. How long have you been reading us?

A. Far too long. I've been meaning to quit, in fact.
B. Ever since the the infamous BYU post
C. Since the third or fourth blog posts
D. Not very long, really.
E. I'm new. Did I come at a bad time?

6a. If you could eliminate one aspect of this blog, what would it be?

A. The part where Mindy refers to herself as “we”
B. The part where Mindy talks about herself in third person
C. The near-constant self-staments of "I am a big deal" and anything like unto it
D. Those little dot dot dots …
E. Mundane stories from Mindy's daily boring life. I mean, really.
F. The complete inability for Mindy to not be vague.
G. Nothing. I love every imperfect aspect of it.
H. Other: __________________________

6b. Of the above choices, which would you hate to see go, if any? {Use same letters.}

7. What is your opinion of the average blog length?

A. They're fine, I guess. I've never actually measured them.
B. They're a bit long. I sometimes just skim over them.
C. Did you really think anyone reads them to their entirety?
D. Actually, they haven't been as long as I'd like. I demand longer blog posts!
E. I think I will choose the cop-out answer and say, "I think it all depends on what you're writing about."
F. Other: _________________________

8. What would you like to see more of in the future?

A. Short stories
B. Song lyrics and/or poems
C. Personal anecdotes
D. Philosophical crap
E. Rants
F. Surveys, quizzes, etc.
G. Reviews and/or critiques
H. Footnotes, disclaimers, etc.
I. Compilations
J. I don't know. Surprise me. Or something.
K. "How To's" ... like How to Put on an Amazing Puppet Show
L. More of Mindy's awesome dance skills, the likes of which we were blessed to see on Halloween 2010.
M. Mindy's domestic skills.
N. More of those aforeheretomentioned birthing stories - fantastic!
O. Other: _________________________

9. If by some freak chance a portion of this became a book, would you read it?

A. What, endure all of this again? You overestimate my patience.
B. Not if have to pay for it.
C. Probably, as long as I had nothing better to do.
D. Sure, why not. Will you autograph it for me?
E. Of course! What's more, I'll even recommend it to my friends!
F. I'd probably buy it as a favor to you, but then it would just sit on my shelf, collecting dust. No offense.
G. Maybe. I'm not a big book reader.
H. Other: __________________________

10. On a scale of 1-9, how would you rate your overall experience here?

[1 = I've gotten more enjoyment from skin rashes; 5 = It's been pretty decent, for an e-mail; 9 = If total bliss can be found online, this is it.]

11. Feel free to add any additional comments, advice, criticism, support, suggestions, praise, insults, warnings, counsel, motivation, tips, testimonials, compliments, put downs, critiques, endorsements, or whatever else you deem necessary, in the space provided. Which would be a comment. {There's no actual space provided in this question, as such.}

Thank you so much for your time and opinions.

And please have a nice day, unless your current day status was much higher than merely nice; in that case, continue to enjoy your exuberant day status.

P.s. Clearly weekend posts aren't all too popular. Hmmm ...


Bike with Brent ...

Brent is a very popular man around these parts. Brent is known for greeting one and all while riding his bike around town. I think it is safe to say that it is difficult impossible to not smile when Brent is around.

Two or so months ago I was walking home from a Relief Society Activity. I was running late to the activity {that I was kinda in charge of} and opted to have my roommate drop me off at the church to get there faster, knowing I could get a ride home with one of the adorable girls in my ward.

The activity was a birthday party for the Relief Society organization {the largest women's organization in the world, holla!}. As part of our activity we played Just Dance {yes, I am that RS President}, as well as ate cupcakes and had balloons for decorations.

As the activity winded down I told all the girlies that they could head out and I would clean up.

After the finishing touches of clean-up, I had a bouquet of balloons in my hand and began to head out the door when I realized I didn't have transportation home. Our church house is only a half-mile or so away from my house, so with balloons in hand ... I began to walk.

About two blocks away from my home I heard a familiar horn honking behind me. Without even looking behind me, I immediately knew it was Brent.

I looked back to see how far away he was, knowing I wanted to say hello when he was close enough. As he caught up with me he honked and waved. I said, "Hi, Brent!"

And he said without missing a beat, "Happy birthday!"

Not having time to explain to him that it wasn't my birthday I simply said, "Thank you!"

That is the kind of guy Brent is. Thoughtful, kind, warm, outgoing, friendly, and well-conditioned for all the biking he does around the valley! ;)

This upcoming Friday {June 17th} Brent is helping the company I work for kick off its 50th Anniversary Celebration with an amazing community event - Bike with Brent.

One and all are invited to attend - including YOU and your mom err ... children. Everyone! :)

Ride your bike, walk, use a wheelchair, to follow Brent around the block by Willow Park. Pre-registration is $10 for an adult, and $7 for a child. You can pre-register at CETC, Al's Sporting Goods, or Joyride Bikes. Day-of registration is $15 for adults and $10 for children. The ride will begin at 10:30 am at 500 W 700 S and we'll go for 1.4 miles around the block. Money generated from this event will be used for programs for people with disabilities. For more information, call us at 435-752-7952.

1,000 gold stars for anyone who comes and 100 more for each person you bring with you! ;)


This week ...

We got donuts at work because our company softball team won the first game of the season against a rival provider. 30-6 ... Even though the score keepers only had it as 28-6. Pff. What a travesty. I may or may not be the said manager of said team and I may or may not have pawned off every responsible to everyone else. I may or may not feel pretty good about that.

I was told that I had poop pants and a pee pee face by one of my clients.

I learned that as long as you write your name on something it's yours. Even if you didn't buy it. Nor was it purchased for you. Nor given to you. Your name, alll yours.

I applied lipstick for the first time in years and years. Thank you Avon ladies at the park!

I realized one of million and three bestest things about my friendship with Em is that she always gives me the response I want to hear. :)

I had to play at the park twice for work. It was rough.

I had to go to a movie for work. Which was also rough.

I may have laughed so hard during said movie that I cried ... and not at the movie. Rather at something else that was occurring at the time that involved incessant growling.

I saw Jeremy Evans at Olive Garden {don't worry, he was a lot more smiley when I saw him}. What made this even more fun is my friend had just posted on FB that he was staying at the hotel she works at.
I got kicked, hit, and spit on. But I 'spose that isn't anything too new now is it? :)

I bought two pairs of jeans, each eight dollah. I then turned them into shorts. I think they turned out more than just A-okay!
As far as I can tell, I slept through the entire night one evening. This is the first time that has happened probably in three or for years - maybe more.
Stew Morrill extended his contract. Yessssssssssssssssssssssssss.
There was an article in the local paper about how deer are the enemy. People, I have been saying this for years now. Best line of the article, "I am almost on a first-name basis with some of the deer." Bahaha! Me too, Mr. Theurer. Me too.
I was told through text not to cast my pearls before swine. I chuckled out loud. And agreed. Even though I don't even own pearls. ;)
I feel in love with calzones from Fredrico's. They are pretty much all I can think about now.
I tried to talk my mama into giving me the cookies she is making for her primary class. My success for this is still up in the air. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
I was asked in the middle of my Relief Society visits this week, "Uhm, Mindy? Is your shirt on inside-out?" Uhm, yes. Yes, it was.
I signed up to be in a flash mob.
I learned that common sense is no longer an acceptable term. It should be changed to uncommon sense because it appears that lots of people just don't have it. It is so rare these days that it might be a super hero power ... "Ssh! I feel my common sense tingling!"
I found out that my across-the-street neighbor is a girl I coached in cross country last year! New running buddy! Yesssssss! And yes, we do run at 5:00am.

I told Bebe Turd his cat died in a tragic toilet flushing accident.
I heard the phrase, "I played them like a fiddle" and now I am adamant about finding a way to use this often in my daily life.
I added someone on Facebook I had previously defriended {long story} just so I could "LIKE" a comment someone else had written on their wall.

I was reminded of my love for Einstein's asiago cheese bagels. I may have ate four in less than a 24-hour time frame.

I had to email out the visiting teaching assignments to girls who were not in Church on Sunday. Oh, wait. I haven't done that yet. I better do it now.

What did YOU do this week?

Besides NOT leaving a comment on her blog, pestering her to update. 500 gold stars now at stake for anyone who does!


Antsy ...

I have been feeling antsy lately.

Liiiike ... I am not complacent with my life.

False: like I am not complacent with the monotony and the duration of this stage of my life.

I think this is normally when I take a vacation.

I just need a change of scenery.

Something to look forward to.

Something that is different.

But as we all know, a vacay is just temporary.

In fact, even if I was to move somewhere else and start up a new job - it too would still be just temporary.

If you are currently in college, don't read this next part.

College life and a career life are really not all that different. Sorry to break it to anyone who kept reading, don't say I didn't warn you. :)

Sure, there are no tests and studying {which is so beautiful I could shed a tear over it}. Buuut, your actual life doesn't change much. Instead of running around with your head chopped off on campus, you do it at your place of employment.

You do your studying/work with every intention of filling in all other time with something meaningful and productive, and of course fun - even though you are exhausted. I don't necessarily find myself having more time to do anything now than I did in college {and this is coming from a girl who took 19 credits the last semester of her senior year, taught seminary in the mornings, taught in Special Ed in the afternoons}. If anything, I seem to feel more exhausted now than I did in college. Maybe it's old age. ;)

I tell you this because I feel like I have been in the same spot in my life for 11 years.

Yes, 11.

A spot where ... I do what is expected {not merely because it is expected, but because it feels right for me}. But nonetheless, expected.

A spot where I see progression for others.

And not the same kind of progression for myself.

A spot where I have been in a singles ward for 11 years.

A spot where I am convinced no one was ever meant to be in a singles ward for 11 years.

A spot where I am actually going to get kicked out of the singles ward in 1.5 years. ;)

A spot where I continually am trying to find things I enjoy {and do}, but yet ... Not-so-deep inside I feel like they are just fillers for what I know will bring me the most joy and fulfillment.

But for now, that fulfillment is just a dream. A dream which tries to escape from the abyss of disillusion of ever being a reality. For a dream that never emerges into reality is just a dream. And many a dreams that remain just dreams have left a trail of broken hearts behind them.

And sometimes I think the extreme and gut wrenching delay of the dream has the potential of being the grandest blessing of all ... for if those who have longed and ached for the dream ever get the chance to experience the monotony of their dream coming true, their gratitude will know no bounds. A gratitude that can only be developed from actually having to wonder if the unfulfilled dream would be your heartbreaking reality.

To all who long and ache for something that is still just a dream, know that the crevices developed in our soul by sorrow, heartache and pain are there to prepare a home for the JOY yet to come.


Last night ...

I went on a run with Josephina.

It looked a little somethin' something like this:


THIS is Logan, Utah.

Wish you were here?

 I ♥ this place.


Teachers here, teachers there, teachers everywhere ...

Several years ago I met up at the Garden in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in Salt Lake City with my friends Emily, Amy and Tamara.

Emily and I met in a class up at USU and teaches typing classes at Morgan High School.

Amy and I met at EFY and were roommates during my horrific stint in Provo. And she teaches English to middle schoolers in Alpine School District.

And Tamara ... welllll, truth be told: I didn't know Tamara. She was Emily's friend errr roommate. Err ... something. But I thought it would be a lot easier to start off saying "my friends" instead of "Emily and her friend/rommate, who was and still is a complete stranger to me and Amy, who is my friend ..."

Because, clearly, that is the way it would have had to be said.

But I digress.

Tamara, didn't teach anything anywhere and now that I think about it plays no major role in this story at all.

And unlike Tamara I was teaching {seminary} and do play a major role in this story.

I like to eat at the Garden for a couple reasons:

1. They serve fried pickles.

2. It is on Temple Square so it allows me to participate in my Temple Square tradition.

3. Annnd they serve friend pickles.

So before meandering over to the fried pickles Garden, my friends Amy, Emily and Tamara and myself did little somethin' somethin' that looks like this ...

100 gold stars if you know what my tradition is ... Hint: my friend Dave calls it "Priestcraft." :)
 Which is the said tradition.

After said tradition and after feeding our bellies with said fried pickles and other scrumptious delights our bill came.

They did not split it up as we had asked ... and while all of us were college graduates, I hate to admit this, we were struggling significantly to split up the combined tax and tip.

My friend Emily made a sassy remark about how funny it was that we were all teachers {except that Tamara girl ... well, maybe she was? But remember I didn't know her then and I still don't know her now} and we still couldn't figure it out.

I immediately responded with, “Yeah, but Amy can tell us if it is spelled right. Emily can type it on a computer. And I can tell you if it’s true.”

And essentially that is all an English teacher, a typing teacher, and a seminary teacher can do with a whacked out bill.

Oh, and did I mention I like fried pickles?

That's all.


Taking a whirl ...

As a fashion blogger.

You know ... taking photos of myself in awesome outfits.

Preferably inconspicuous photos as if I was a legit model.

And then giving you the breakdown of where I purchased it and how much it cost?

I can be a fashion blogger.


Here's my first attempt. Let me know what you think.

The Breakdown//

Wwindbreaker - DI - $3.00

Flame Pants - DI - $3.00

 Flip Flops - Old Navy - $4.99

Colored Hair Extensions - Claire's - $4.99

Stain on Windbreaker - Mom's Lasagna - free handout

Tall Dude - Mirin Baggley Nelson - borrowed.
Whaddya think?

Legit fashion blogger?


Bebe Turd

Nine years ago today this is what I was doing ...

at the Logan Regional Hospital with Nephew 1 anxiously awaiting the arrival of this little guy ...

Be still my heart.
Nephew 2 ... also affectionately known as Bebe Turd.

These two bebes have been one of the greatest blessings in my life.

Bebe Turd was born premature with major complications along the way. So much so that my brother-in-law jokes that he finally paid Bebe Turd off just four years ago. We were thrilled to finally own him. :)

The hospital still owned him at this point. ;)
Bebe Turd and I are what Anne of Green Gables would call, "kindred spirits".

One of my favorite memories when he was little is how he would run into the house running for me, calling my name.
And when he was a sad little boy he'd come to his Aunt Meme.

 But to think that he was always this tender would be misleading. Extremely, extremely misleading. :)

He's a little firecracker.

And I would have it no other way.

I could just eat him right up.
Adore this face. Angry eyebrows and all!

My sassy lil' bebe!
And some favorites over the years ...

Thanksgiving ... probably 2006??

Fall 2007. I took him ice skating for his very first time this day.
Overnighter in Salt Lake in ... summer of ... 2009? Yesh, 2009.
SLC trip at the zoo, summer of 2009.
For always we have done this ... Bebe Turd will stand facing me, while holding hands and I will flip him upside down like this. I will keep doing it as long as he asks. :)

Happy birthday, my Bebe Turd. I love you somethin' fierce.


Never forget it.
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