How strange is life? Obviously I have a blog. (Yes, that's what this is) I'm listed on a site so I've picked up a few random friends. I don't think most of my friends know that we are friends yet though. For example:
Jillybean Her current dilemma is about shoes. I realize that this wonderful woman has kids and a crazy life and bigger things going on than I could ever imagine. Yet she wonders about fashion and shoes. I totally love shoes, so I feel right at home reading her blog.
Mommy J Has a great love for music, including William Joseph. He pretty much rocks my knee highs. And even though I have never been pregnant, nor do I have kids, I enjoy her stories and feel a strange kinship. I'm always so curious to see what sort of zany things her children will come up with next.
Crash I think that in another life, she and I would have been dear friends. I mean, really. She's making Aloha print bonnets to wear on trek. I SO wore tie dye bonnets. Yes, they can tell you what to wear, but people never specify what kind of fabric patterns to use! Way to find a loop-hole to keep your individuality. When I first started reading her, she lived in Hawaii. Now she lives much closer. It's just a matter of time till she moves to my town and we bump into each other in the super market and then she can be my mentor of how to be when I'm all grown up. ~sigh~ maybe someday.
You add these woman along with my great sisters Laree and Happy Mom (whom though I am related to, I totally consider friends) and really, life can be great. I am quite aware that most of these woman don't read my blog, but I read theirs. And even if that makes me seem like a creepy stalker, blogger makes it easy to stalk so I'll just go right on ahead! Thanks for the friendship ladies. You are all great examples to me!
Now, don't go thinking that I don't have real life friends. I totally do. I don't just sit around waiting for these ladies to update their blogs. But it is something nice to come home to.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
'Till The Meat Is Gone
Last night was a good night! I went to dinner with my roomie (Whom L7 has told me I should call Ska-link-a-lot or SLAL for short) and her cousins. I wondered if this would be awkward for me... Crashing the family dinner and all, but it was great!
We went to a new place in my town and it was all about the meat and the music. I know, random, but that's what it was. We were able to sit at this great tall table, and just laugh all night. They have 30 different kinds of Rood Beer there. The one I chose even had extract of sassafras in it. I guess that is a normal ingredient in real Root Beer. Who knew? I just think it's cool to say I had a drink with sassafras in it. I've been told that I can be quite the sassafras. Anyway, it was a great drink.
We had a great waiter. We shall call him Chuck. Mostly because that is a cut of meat, and really, it was all about the meat. Chuck was fun, and quite attentive. Even when I was weird and had him go get me some of their wing sauce. I've just been craving Buffalo wings for 2 years now. I'm on a search, but I'm also cheap. So I try the sauce and see if it's close before I order wings. This wasn't it. At one point, we asked Chuck what his name was. He told us to call him Julio or something like that, and then he tossed his name tag at us. SLAL tossed it in a little box on our table and he walked away.
Let's be honest. Chuck was quite the attractive fellow. According to CRH flirting with a waiter is a perfectly acceptable way to help yourself get over a break up. So, I did. At least that's what SLAL says. I never know when I'm flirting. But she said I did quite nicely. I decided to wear Chuck's name tag. Why not? I put it on, and he came over, and didn't notice. This happened all night. I'm just sitting there with a name tag on, enjoying my brisket and laughing with the girls. The laughter may have increased quite a bit when one cousin tried to impale herself in the forehead with a straw.
Through the course of the evening, it became apparent that Chuck wasn't going to come back for his name tag. So I hatched a plan. SLAL was totally on board with me. The plan was to steal the name tag. Then on our receipt leave a ransom note with my phone number to get it back. Yes, I was in a very crazy mood. Chuck was cute, and I'm single, so why not? I have a previous potential scuttle who was a waiter. So I asked him if that would be creepy. He told me to go for it. That was the master plan! I got pretty nervous, but decided it was going to happen.
But it didn't. He finally remembered his name tag. Chuck couldn't find his name tag once he tried. Really, he looked all over the table, he looked high, he looked low, but he never looked at our shirts. Once we told him where it was, he commented that he doesn't look at ladies in that location. Oh, Chuck is a nice guy. Because I was no longer in possession of the name tag, I chickened out. But that's ok. There are much better ways to meet men. And it wouldn't have been fair to Chuck, cause it totally would have been a rebound date. But I did discover that flirting with a waiter is a lot of fun!
We went to a new place in my town and it was all about the meat and the music. I know, random, but that's what it was. We were able to sit at this great tall table, and just laugh all night. They have 30 different kinds of Rood Beer there. The one I chose even had extract of sassafras in it. I guess that is a normal ingredient in real Root Beer. Who knew? I just think it's cool to say I had a drink with sassafras in it. I've been told that I can be quite the sassafras. Anyway, it was a great drink.
We had a great waiter. We shall call him Chuck. Mostly because that is a cut of meat, and really, it was all about the meat. Chuck was fun, and quite attentive. Even when I was weird and had him go get me some of their wing sauce. I've just been craving Buffalo wings for 2 years now. I'm on a search, but I'm also cheap. So I try the sauce and see if it's close before I order wings. This wasn't it. At one point, we asked Chuck what his name was. He told us to call him Julio or something like that, and then he tossed his name tag at us. SLAL tossed it in a little box on our table and he walked away.
Let's be honest. Chuck was quite the attractive fellow. According to CRH flirting with a waiter is a perfectly acceptable way to help yourself get over a break up. So, I did. At least that's what SLAL says. I never know when I'm flirting. But she said I did quite nicely. I decided to wear Chuck's name tag. Why not? I put it on, and he came over, and didn't notice. This happened all night. I'm just sitting there with a name tag on, enjoying my brisket and laughing with the girls. The laughter may have increased quite a bit when one cousin tried to impale herself in the forehead with a straw.
Through the course of the evening, it became apparent that Chuck wasn't going to come back for his name tag. So I hatched a plan. SLAL was totally on board with me. The plan was to steal the name tag. Then on our receipt leave a ransom note with my phone number to get it back. Yes, I was in a very crazy mood. Chuck was cute, and I'm single, so why not? I have a previous potential scuttle who was a waiter. So I asked him if that would be creepy. He told me to go for it. That was the master plan! I got pretty nervous, but decided it was going to happen.
But it didn't. He finally remembered his name tag. Chuck couldn't find his name tag once he tried. Really, he looked all over the table, he looked high, he looked low, but he never looked at our shirts. Once we told him where it was, he commented that he doesn't look at ladies in that location. Oh, Chuck is a nice guy. Because I was no longer in possession of the name tag, I chickened out. But that's ok. There are much better ways to meet men. And it wouldn't have been fair to Chuck, cause it totally would have been a rebound date. But I did discover that flirting with a waiter is a lot of fun!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Returning Notes
Back in the day, I lived in Texas. Those were some pretty good times. One Sunday I went to a fireside with my dear friend CRH (We got there late...) and during the fireside a scripture was quoted. It kind of struck me, but not for myself. I have a friend who has been fighting cancer for three years now. I wanted to send it to her. So, I wrote it down, made a few notes in my notebook about how much this verse would help her, and moved on.
Today while waiting for Sacrament Meeting to start, I opened my notebook and rather than just flipping through it like I normally do, I decided to start right at the beginning. The beginning of this notebook is all just gibberish. It's old notes that I took when I first moved to Texas, things about an upcoming activity, little descriptions of people so I could learn names, things like that. I always skip the first of my notebook when I'm just looking through it. I was giggling over my little notes when I saw this note I had written for my friend. This brain of mine isn't that good, so I didn't have a clue what the scripture was about. It was an answer to my prayers. You all may be wondering what the scripture is, and I'm not going to tell you. Sorry. I've had a lot of very sacred experiences this week, and I just don't feel that I should be sharing the details of them. Friday and Saturday were very hard days for me. I know what I know, I know what I learned in the temple this week. There are times though, that the temple feels far away, and the Devil works on you, and you start to question revelation. (Stupid Devil. I totally want to kick him. He's lame.)
When I wrote down the little note for my friend, I thought it was just for her. I had no idea that almost two years later I would need the same type of comfort. That I would need a boost to my faith. Today I am grateful. I am grateful for friends. For the Scriptures. For revelation. For the Holy Ghost. For being worthy of the Spirit. For a loving Heavenly Father who finds ways to answer my unending pleas for help. Yes, there are still problems. Yes, I am still sad. But I have reason to hope. I know what can be, and I have to have the faith that it will happen. I don't really know what to do. But I know, if I give it my all, and then exercise patience (that's the hardest part for me) that Heavenly Father will take care of it all. I will be able to see him working in my life. And in the lives of people I love. He is perfect. And I can always have faith in him.
I LOVE THE GOSPEL!!!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Be The Match
Hello Friends!
Today I added a new sticker to my blog. It's all about being the match. Be The Match is the slogan for the National Marrow Donor Program. I'm pretty passionate about this. It all started when L7 did a speech about it for her public speaking class. She was away at college, and I was in the same course in High School. I desperately needed a topic for my speech, and she was willing to share with me.
Bone marrow donations are used to help cure different cancers. Actually, one of my next-door-neighbors from my childhood received a bone marrow transplant on Saturday. Having lost a bother to cancer when I was fifteen I want to do anything I can to help people with this horrid disease. Bone marrow wouldn't have saved him, he didn't have the right type, but it can save someone else. I have personally seen and experienced the horrible sorrow from losing a loved one this way. So, I can't just sit here when I may be able to give something. I've only been on the registry for 2 years. L7 has been on closer to 10. Neither of us have heard anything since, but I hope someday I get a call. I hope someday I can safe a life. There is a cost for getting on the registry. The fact is, it's an expensive process. When L7 joined it was $100. When I did, it was closer to $50. But it's worth it. And getting on the registry is totally painless. You get online at the NMDP answer a bunch of questions, and then they will mail you a kit. This kit has a bunch of cotton swabs that you wipe in your mouth. Then you mail it back. Totally painless and quick.
So think about it. It's a great program, and every person on the list helps a little more. It's great!
Today I added a new sticker to my blog. It's all about being the match. Be The Match is the slogan for the National Marrow Donor Program. I'm pretty passionate about this. It all started when L7 did a speech about it for her public speaking class. She was away at college, and I was in the same course in High School. I desperately needed a topic for my speech, and she was willing to share with me.
Bone marrow donations are used to help cure different cancers. Actually, one of my next-door-neighbors from my childhood received a bone marrow transplant on Saturday. Having lost a bother to cancer when I was fifteen I want to do anything I can to help people with this horrid disease. Bone marrow wouldn't have saved him, he didn't have the right type, but it can save someone else. I have personally seen and experienced the horrible sorrow from losing a loved one this way. So, I can't just sit here when I may be able to give something. I've only been on the registry for 2 years. L7 has been on closer to 10. Neither of us have heard anything since, but I hope someday I get a call. I hope someday I can safe a life. There is a cost for getting on the registry. The fact is, it's an expensive process. When L7 joined it was $100. When I did, it was closer to $50. But it's worth it. And getting on the registry is totally painless. You get online at the NMDP answer a bunch of questions, and then they will mail you a kit. This kit has a bunch of cotton swabs that you wipe in your mouth. Then you mail it back. Totally painless and quick.
So think about it. It's a great program, and every person on the list helps a little more. It's great!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
In Need Of Assistance
Dear Friends,
This is totally not a happy post. I need your help. It looks like dear Scuttle and I are done. Not my choice. I've been doing a lot of research, and apparently breaking up with someone that you truly love is comparable to death. Only in this case, it can be worse, because you will keep seeing said person around, still giving you a glimmer of hope, and/or reminding you of what you lost. The fact is, I lost something great. I know I wasn't perfect, but it was a learning experience for both of us. But if one party decided it's not worth the effort, what can the other person do? So, really, I just need your prayers. Really, really badly. Talking doesn't make it better, I have no appetite, so please, don't make me cookies. Eating just makes me nauseous. Oh, I'm not becoming anorexic or anything. I'm just eating less. But judging by the squish still going on here, I'm not in any harm. The good news is, I've taken up running. It's good, because it's better than trying to drown my sorrows in cookie dough. I didn't know that I could go from couch potato to running 30 min straight. But that's what I do. And it exhausts me enough that I can finally sleep. Well, yesterday I only was able to run for 20 min, but today it was 30. So I'll keep moving up. Keep waking up, and keep moving on. It's only been 2 days, and it will only get better, right? That's what I keep telling myself. It will all be ok. I can get through this. Sorry to those of you who are just finding out like this. I'm not any good at calling people to tell them. Just typing this makes me start to cry again. How lame is this! I don't know why I'm blogging about this. I mean, please, do send some prayers my way. I've been really depressed before, and I really don't want to go there again. But maybe by blogging, it will help me really say goodbye. I need to not hope. And someday, when I hear a text on my phone, I'll stop having a glimmer of hope that it's him. Because it's not. And it's not going to be. But I know that Heavenly Father is aware of me. He won't leave me alone. For that I am so grateful. I love you all, and thank you for your love and support. The good news is, The Church is still true! At least that will never let me down.
As President Gordon B. Hinckley said: It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. ... If we put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will Hear our prayers.
Priesthood Session of Jordan Utah South Regional Conference, March 1, 1997.
Hugs all around,
Paily.
This is totally not a happy post. I need your help. It looks like dear Scuttle and I are done. Not my choice. I've been doing a lot of research, and apparently breaking up with someone that you truly love is comparable to death. Only in this case, it can be worse, because you will keep seeing said person around, still giving you a glimmer of hope, and/or reminding you of what you lost. The fact is, I lost something great. I know I wasn't perfect, but it was a learning experience for both of us. But if one party decided it's not worth the effort, what can the other person do? So, really, I just need your prayers. Really, really badly. Talking doesn't make it better, I have no appetite, so please, don't make me cookies. Eating just makes me nauseous. Oh, I'm not becoming anorexic or anything. I'm just eating less. But judging by the squish still going on here, I'm not in any harm. The good news is, I've taken up running. It's good, because it's better than trying to drown my sorrows in cookie dough. I didn't know that I could go from couch potato to running 30 min straight. But that's what I do. And it exhausts me enough that I can finally sleep. Well, yesterday I only was able to run for 20 min, but today it was 30. So I'll keep moving up. Keep waking up, and keep moving on. It's only been 2 days, and it will only get better, right? That's what I keep telling myself. It will all be ok. I can get through this. Sorry to those of you who are just finding out like this. I'm not any good at calling people to tell them. Just typing this makes me start to cry again. How lame is this! I don't know why I'm blogging about this. I mean, please, do send some prayers my way. I've been really depressed before, and I really don't want to go there again. But maybe by blogging, it will help me really say goodbye. I need to not hope. And someday, when I hear a text on my phone, I'll stop having a glimmer of hope that it's him. Because it's not. And it's not going to be. But I know that Heavenly Father is aware of me. He won't leave me alone. For that I am so grateful. I love you all, and thank you for your love and support. The good news is, The Church is still true! At least that will never let me down.
As President Gordon B. Hinckley said: It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. ... If we put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will Hear our prayers.
Priesthood Session of Jordan Utah South Regional Conference, March 1, 1997.
The best thing you can do is just keep busy, keep working hard, so you're not dwelling on it all the time. Work is the best antidote for sorrow.
Discussing the death of his wife with Larry King, 2004
Hugs all around,
Paily.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Good Golly, I'm Lame
And not the good warm fuzzy kind of lame.
After my last post, I was talking to my sister L7, and she informed me that ounces is just about as American as you get. Oh blast. I hate it when I think I'm funny, but in all reality I'm just stupid. The good news is, it gives me something to smile about. Sometimes I really need that.
After my last post, I was talking to my sister L7, and she informed me that ounces is just about as American as you get. Oh blast. I hate it when I think I'm funny, but in all reality I'm just stupid. The good news is, it gives me something to smile about. Sometimes I really need that.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Welcome to America
Ready for some good, old ranting? Cause here we go.
I like hot chocolate. Really. It's quite delightful. But I have an issue. WHY in the WORLD are the directions always in ounces? I mean, come on! Now, I know that 8 ounces is one cup. But most directions are for 6 ounces. Yes, I can do simple math, and I know that 6 ounces would just be 3/4 a cup. BUT what if I was only 7? There are many 7 year olds who want to make themselves hot chocolate. But they can't, cause they have no idea what to do with the ounces.
OH, and ounces. Who do they think they are? Why can they be a weight and a volume? That is so not fair. I can't be a weight and a volume. What makes ounces so special? So, do they want 6 ounces of water in weight or volume? Get off your high horse.
But back to the chocolate. I've checked, and all hot chocolate I have digested in the past year was made in America. America, we don't do things logically here. No meters, or centimeters, or ounces for me. Give me my confusing feet, inches, yards and CUPS! 7 year-olds of the USA unite! Let's take down the powdered hot chocolate factories so we can measure in cups! I'll be hosting a rally to get this all going at my place, yesterday, at 6:00. Be there, or have to handle measuring in ounces for the rest of your life.
I like hot chocolate. Really. It's quite delightful. But I have an issue. WHY in the WORLD are the directions always in ounces? I mean, come on! Now, I know that 8 ounces is one cup. But most directions are for 6 ounces. Yes, I can do simple math, and I know that 6 ounces would just be 3/4 a cup. BUT what if I was only 7? There are many 7 year olds who want to make themselves hot chocolate. But they can't, cause they have no idea what to do with the ounces.
OH, and ounces. Who do they think they are? Why can they be a weight and a volume? That is so not fair. I can't be a weight and a volume. What makes ounces so special? So, do they want 6 ounces of water in weight or volume? Get off your high horse.
But back to the chocolate. I've checked, and all hot chocolate I have digested in the past year was made in America. America, we don't do things logically here. No meters, or centimeters, or ounces for me. Give me my confusing feet, inches, yards and CUPS! 7 year-olds of the USA unite! Let's take down the powdered hot chocolate factories so we can measure in cups! I'll be hosting a rally to get this all going at my place, yesterday, at 6:00. Be there, or have to handle measuring in ounces for the rest of your life.
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