Thing 1, the 17 year old, wrecked the jeep on November 1st. We are still cleaning up the mess from that. It's been getting "fixed" since November 2 and as of today they still don't know when it will be done.

She is no worse for the wear. Other than a jacked up back and a mild case of anxiety. Thankfully they make herbs and oils for both ailments.

The jeep on the other hand? Well, it's seen better days.

 The drive shaft, rear suspension, rear axle and 4-wheel drive were ruined. Along with the door, wheels and a plethora of other problems.

Apparently she has mad driving skills because everyone -- police, paramedics and towing company-- could not believe that she didn't roll that puppy.

Frankly, after hearing them all talk, I can't believe she didn't roll it either.

She said that she felt it go up on two wheels and the thought occurred to her that she was going to roll. Then the next thing she knew it felt like she was being yanked back down and she landed on the stop sign on the sidewalk.

I have my own theories as to what happened that morning and I thank the Lord constantly that the little stinker was protected.

As humans we have a tendency to hold grudges, be offended when no offense was meant and with hold forgiveness as a means of protecting ourselves. It's easy to get caught up in being  angry and serving up our own version of Javert justice -- obsessed with proving that we are right -- that we neglect to see the amazing person Jean Valjean has become. Javert is only concerned with Justice, paying no mind to Mercy.

This accident reminded me of that principal. Accident's have a tendency to do that, don't you think? Remind you of what is truly important. It's not being right. It's not holding that grudge. It's the people that are in your life. It's forgivness. Its change and growth. That's what's important.

Proving that you're right is never the right way to be. It only sacrifices relationships and alienates people.

Thing 1 and I had argued that morning and I am eternally grateful that THAT wasn't the last memory I would have with my child.

"The Great Accident" of 2012 reminded me that the only thing that really matters in life are the people that are in it. Things are just that -- things.

Things don't matter. People do.

The first thing you are taught when you are working with the public and money is "If you get robbed, give them everything they ask for. Don't panic. Don't be a hero. Remember everything."

That last part is easier said than done in the heat of the moment.

Unless you dreamed about it happening several weeks earlier. And then you remember everything with stunning clarity.

 I had a dream that I was robbed at work. The dream was so real and vivid that when I woke up, I was in a total state of panic. My heart was thumping right out of my chest and my fight or flight instinct had kicked into high gear. I could remember every single thing that happened in the dream. The look on the mans face as he stormed through the doors, the tan pants and plain white wife-beater tank that he was wearing. He had a go-tee and walked with aggression.

In my dream I was absolutely terrified and I woke up with those same feelings pumping through my veins.

The next night at work, my friend came to me and said she'd had a dream about both last night. We were closing and a group of men tried to rob us. 

I was stunned.

I sat riveted to every last word as she described in great detail the same type of dream that I'd had the night before. The man in her dream was dressed the same, but he had a posse of dudes with him. And hers ended a tad more violently than mine -- We got shot as they ran from the store.

We laughed it all off, but it was clear that we were both a little creeped out by the fact that we had  both had similar dreams at the same time. Granted, minor details were different, but the subject was the same: We were robbed while we were working, right as the store closed.

For the next few nights, when we worked together we would joke about how we wondered if this was going to be the night all hell broke loose at Schmoles. We had talked through the dream scenarios several times, and discussed what we had done wrong in our dreams and what we "should have done" instead. Mostly we did joking with each other and to figure out how we could avoid being shot, which was what happened in my friends dream.

Several weeks after the dream's had occured (and we had stopped talking about them) I was closing the registers. The store was closed, but the doors hadn't been locked yet. I had the register open and was facing the window, counting it down when I heard the door open.

I glanced up and instantly knew what was happening.

A man with a go-tee dressed in tan pants and a white wife beater tank top was storming aggressively toward me. I pushed the register closed and stared at him.

I felt my heart sink and a lump form in my throat. I didn't just feel fear, I felt terror and it was pulsing through every inch of my body.

He snarled "You open?" as he aggressively approached me.

I was shaking because this was the point where he pulled the gun and demanded all of our money. If my friends dream scenario was followed, I would turn around and his posse would be behind me and someone was getting shot.

I looked him in the eye and slightly shook my head as I said "No. We're closed."

Then something different happened. The man deviated from both the dreams we'd had.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked at me. Then past me, Then at me again.

Then he turned around and left the store.

I sat there shaking, trying to get control. My friend who'd had the dream about us was working that night with me.

In her dream it was a Wednesday night.

This was a Wednesday night.

Coincidence?

Maybe.

I honestly don't know what to make of it.

Was God warning us of something that might have happened?

Or was it all just a spooky coincidence? 

I really don't know.

All I know is that it felt like something. And it felt like when he looked at me, he saw me something and that something changed his mind... changed him.

Whatever it was that happened -- a warning, or a coincidence  -- I'm glad it turned out differently than both of our dreams. There are lessons to be learned from this, and I am sure tons of symbolism. The biggest being situations and circumstances can and are re-written instantaneously all the time. And when they are? Maybe its because God prompted a different choice to be made.

About ten years ago, I had a falling out with one of my friends.

It was nothing exotic -- there was no fighting, no yelling or even hurt feelings involved -- we merely "grew apart".

This friend and I had met at a local scrap-booking store and we hit it off fantastically. She worked there and I would arrange to go to the midnight scraps she hosted because I knew it would be a night of laughter and release. We had a great friendship and I really liked this person.

She lived several towns away from where I was living at the time, and because of that, moving the friendship to "the next level" required work. I was young and inexperienced in the art of friendship making (and keeping).

This friend invited me over to her home. A lot.

 And at first, I went. A lot.

And then slowly, I started finding excuses as to why I couldn't make our scheduled play dates. I really liked this person, but it was work and frankly I was lazy. And selfish. Candidly, I didn't even realize that I was pulling away until she started calling me asking me why I wasn't returning her phone calls anymore or not coming to our Midnight Scraps anymore.

I started giving her the standard excuses: "I'm super busy and I've got no time for myself anymore. My family, kids, church calling and job are sucking me dry. I'm just barely hanging on here." 

And that was true.

I was in the RS Presidency at the time, I was working 30 hours a week at Schmoles. I was busy. My marriage was running a little rough, my kids were being kids and I felt like I was drowning. My natural instinct was to cut out things that were work, or took too much effort.

In doing that, I cut out a person who was my advocate. My biggest cheerleader. My friend.

A year or so later I got a letter in the mail from her telling me how sad, hurt and angry she had been with me. She didn't understand what she had done to ruin our friendship or why I had cut her out of my life. She understood that people can change and grow -- not be "compatible" any more -- and if that had been the case, she wished I would have just told her. She explained that she had spent an exorbitant amount of time trying to figure out what she had done wrong. She missed our friendship and couldn't understand what was wrong with her and why I wouldn't be her friend any longer."

My response?

"No! No! No! That's not the case at all! I do like you (which I truly did! She is a wonderful person and a blast to be around) I've just been so crazy busy that I haven't had time for anything or anyone. It's not you, it's me! You are a wonderful person and I do consider you my friend. I've just had no time."

And there they were: The time excuse. The too busy excuse. The family is sucking me dry excuse. The job is taking all my time excuse. The excuses.

We've all used those phrases a million and one times. But, really? All they are is an excuse. An easier way for us to say "You weren't a priority to me."

Think on that for a second while I tell you another story.

I had another friend who called me recently to tell me that she was feeling bad about our friendship. When I started offering her my standard "I've been super, crazy busy! I hardly have time to think! My kids are being emotional vampires and I am working like crazy!"

She listened nicely to me, and then said: "What you are really saying is that I am not a priority to you. Because Elisa we all have the same amount of time in the day, and we find the time to accomplish the tasks, or be with the people who are Priorities. I am not one of your priorities." 

I was stunned.

How could she say that?  Of course she was a priority, and when she called me on it and characterized our lack of interaction so boldly, it hurt. A lot.

However, she was right.

She hadn't been a priority.

When we say we "haven't had time" or "I've been crazy busy with X, Y and Z" what we are really saying is it wasn't a priority to me. 

I say it to people all the time when they quiz me about how I am able to be involved with all the things I am. They essentially are giving me a compulsult -- a compliment that was really intended as an insult -- when they say they have "no idea how you find the time to be involved with all the things you're involved with. They can barely keep up on the laundry!"

My response is always the same: "You find the time to do the things that are important to you. If it's important enough to you, you will find the time to do it. It becomes a priority."

Priorities. That's really what all those excuses are about. They just weren't a priority.

People change and grow. Friendships change and grow. However, if you are a true friend, we make time for one another. We find the time for the things that are important to us:  Our families and our friends should be priorities. People should be priorities.

Think about that the next time you find yourself responding with the standard "I didn't have time to get it done" response. What you are really saying is that task, that request, that person wasn't a priority. 

Every time I have found myself saying "I didn't have time . . . " I have thought to myself  "what I am really saying is it's not a priority to me." When I phrase it like that, it sounds selfish. That simple change in phraseology causes me to stop and evaluate the situation and circumstances. More often than not, I am the one that has the priorities out of whack. I need re-focusing.

I should never be too busy for my family or my friends. If that is the case, then I have some adjustment to do. In the final analysis, all I have when I leave this life are the relationships I have made and nurtured. And that nurturing takes work, effort and time.

And time? That is something we all have plenty of . . .  if it's a priority.

Every year about this time I get this insatiable craving for country music. It's actually really bizarre because any other time of the year, that crooning makes my eye twitch kick into over drive. And yet when that cool breeze comes floating in and I see my mountains littered with color, I find myself hankering for Rascal Flatts, Carrie Underwood, Trisha Yearwood and Faith Hill.

I even have separate pre-set country stations in my car that are used ONLY in Autumn.

I add Pandora Stations at the end of September and by the beginning of November I have deleted them all, returning to my usual listening habits.

I have vivid memories of my college friends and I taking many a road trip in September and October, which makes me wonder if that is why I always listen to country this time of year? We made day trips to St George, Jackson Hole and even one time flew to Portland to see a friend and then drove all the way back to Utah-- listening to Country the entire way.

In October. 

It could also be that during the Fall while Jefe was in Law School I would take the kids on weekly --usually daily-- drives or "field trips." I didn't like to drive the country roads in the winter, so I would get my "fix" until the first snow fall,  which was typically the first week of November. Then I would stay put for the long and dreary winter.

The cold weather makes me want to sing and honestly? My vocal chords seem to really dig these country tunes. They have deep, sultry sounds that my gravely voice can easily find the harmony to. I have my favorite ones that I've put on a disk and when I have a lot of errands to run or some distance to cover, I pull that baby out and sing to my hearts content.

For me, signing is cathartic. Healing almost. And, it makes me feel good. Alive even.  A lot can happen in three and half minutes when you're singing a song. You're whole outlook can change in those few short minutes. That's the power of music.

Moxie has started crooning with me and it totally melts my heart. When I look in the rear-view mirror and see her sitting in her seat, belting out the tunes it knocks me flat. Then add into the mix her copying my idiotic dance moves while we do our errands? I'm out cold. She is her mother's daughter, that's for sure.

Her Dad commented about how she was singing at the top of her lungs one time with him: "Not only does she sing every single song that comes on the radio, she also knows all the words and inflections, too. And her pitch? It's dead on."

Yes. She is my child and that makes me feel all sorts of sparkly, gooey, fou-fou happy inside.


*Pulled from the archives. Originally published on October 6, 2011

My sons football coach was astounded last night when I told him I was Forty-One. I've known the man for several years, and honestly my age has never come up. When I told him that I was a Forty-Year old woman so OF COURSE I knew more about football than my son did. He gasped.

Hearing his gasp, I begin rapidly explaining how I really DID know a lot about football. 

All he heard was forty-one.
 
He was shocked and actually argued with me that I couldn't be that old.

I was all "Dude. I have a seventeen year old! I was not a baby-mama! How old did you think I was?"

When he told me that he thought I was no more than thirty-five I may have said: "You have totally made my day and I just may have to kiss you now."

I didn't. Cause that would've been gross. And weird.

But I wanted to.

I don't look forty-one, yo.

Them's magic words right there.

***
 I have been thoroughly enjoying this summer. The bohemian, gypsy lifestyle has meshed into my soul rather nicely. I haven't felt this relaxed and safe in YEARS people.

It's a good feeling, yo.

I have read more books in the past month than I have in the past two years and it has been delightfully wonderful. I have re-connected with old friends that have I missed and I am enjoying LIVING my life.

It's funny, you can get so caught up in social media and blogging that you can actually forget to LIVE your life. We write about all the things we're doing, read about all the things other people are doing, but the danger is when you get so caught up in what's happening in the Internets that you stop interacting with your peeps and interact more with the peeps inside your computer/phones.

I'm living life to it's fullest right now and it is delightfully wonderful. For the first time in YEARS I am actually not looking forward to all my people going back to school. We are all getting along so well (thank you to our awesome family counselor) that not having them all around will make me miss them. Sure my house will be quiet and clean most of the day, but I do enjoy the friendly banter and the way our family interacts with each other now.

It's a good thing, peeps. It's a very good thing.

***




This time of year makes me giddy with joy. I love football. I love that my son plays football and I love that we are a football family.

I never thought I would be a crazy football mom. But I am. And boy-howdy do I ever love it. Every single freaking second of it. I love it. I love how this sport is teaching my son more about the game of life than I ever could. He is learning that sometimes even though you work really hard, you get disappointments, but you pick yourself up by your boot straps and you carry on. You make the best of each and every play. Work your hardest, do your best and you can hold your head high, no matter what the outcome.

Life isn't a solo game, it's a team game -- it's the big game. And football is teaching him how to work with a team, be loyal and how to never give up. Not Ever.

I love how this sport is turning my boy into a man.


That's it for my randomness this week, peeps. I'm busy having the time of my life with my kids and Jefe. We've got plans. Big ones. And we're gonna be living them to the fullest.

1. Goodnight Hollywood Blvd  - Ryan Adams
2. Romeo & Juliet - Dire Straits
3. Ohio (Live at Massey Hall) - Neil Young
4. How Do You Keep Love Alive - Ryan Adams & The Cardinals
5. Ain't No Reason - Brett Dennen
6. Keeping Me Awake - Tarkio
7. Fade Into You - Mazzy Star
8. Boys of Fall - Kenny Chesney 
9. Everybody Wants To Rule the World - Tears for Fears 
10. Mercy - Dave Matthews Band

Bonus: You Lie - The Band Perry

I have this tacky camping chair that I like to sit in on my driveway to think and watch the world float by. I can face the mountains and watch the sunset reflect off them, turning them various shades of pink and purple. I understand that phrase "Purple Mountains Majesty." It is a beautiful site.

The clouds started turning and moving-- doing an exotic dance that was entrancing and seemed to be only for me. I could hear them moaning and churning as they danced and if I listened carefully I could hear the low rumble of thunder trying to break free.

Slowly the wind met with the leaves in the trees and they started their familiar dance, singing a beautiful song. The sounds and sites were hypnotic as I sat in my chair listening to the world around me.

I listened to the distant crackle, pop and boom of fireworks while the wind and trees continued their dance. It would crescendo and decrescendo in such a mesmerizing way. I couldn't tear my eyes from the giant trees across the street. They swayed perfectly to the unheard song of their dance. It was if they were marrying themselves to each other over and over again and at the exact perfect moment, the sky exploded in a sea of color-- blues, greens, reds and yellows-- the perfect culmination of this forbidden dance of the wind and trees.

Then the rain slowly descended. It was refreshing, that smell from the rain, and it felt clean. I sat there and let the rain pour down on me as I continued to listen and watch the forbidden dance of the trees and watch the firework display in front of me. It was a perfect moment.

It was calming watching the world-- changing, growing, moving-- being cleansed and given a chance to start fresh. I love watching storms come creeping over my little piece of the world. It reminds me that I always have a new day and a fresh start.

Just like that, I can let go of my past, forgive myself and move forward. There is always a new beginning just around the corner.

*pulled from the archives. Originally published on July 25, 2011

When this song comes on, I just can't help myself. I have to dance. And, not dancing? Well, that just makes the need to dance worse. There's something about that opening that just makes me start bopping my head to the side and once those trumpets start? I'm a goner. I'm swinging my booty and rocking to the beat. It doesn't matter where I am, when I hear that familiar refrain? It's all down hill from there people. 

eekk. i look like i'm on crack

At the beginning of every summer I feel mounds of trepidation. I get used to the schedule and consistency that the school year brings -- Up and going every day by a certain time. Dishes and dinner done every morning with the house all shiny and clean. Routine is my comfortable old worn coat and it makes me feel safe and secure.

Summer means the end of that blessed schedule and we all turn into free stylin' gypsies.

We have migrated into our gypsy lifestyle rather seamlessly this year. We've stayed up late and slept in. We've had cheesecake for breakfast and omelets for dinner. We've spent our days next to the pool and our nights riding the Merry-Go-Round.  We've caught ourselves up on our favorite TV shows, watched the latest blockbuster movies and read a library full of books. We've taken nightly walks around the neighborhood and have a worn path that is a friendly reminder of where we've been and how far we've come.

It's simply perfect. 

I forget every year that when it's all said and done and the transformation is complete this Gypsy lifestyle fits me rather nicely. Taking that first drink of Koolaid is scary but once I do I remember how much I love it and how liberating this lifestyle really is.

With the metamorphosis complete, I find myself taking a deep breath and saying "This. THIS right here is the life" and that familiar feeling of peace slides over me and I recognize it. My old worn coat has returned.

Life is good. Summer is good. We're good. 

Here's my most recent conversation { inspired by this.} with my 16 yro daughter and I think it's probably my most favorite teXting conversation.

EVER.

It's best read OUT LOUD.

pinky swear.

you need to read it out loud.

And, don't blame me if you spew Diet Coke. 

--

Me: How did Moses make his tea?

Me: Hebrews it.

Thing 1: Wow. That's so funny I forgot to laugh.

Me: Now. Now. Don't be Russian around being a hater!

Thing 1: I was trying so hard to think of something punny to say that Iran into a door.  

Me: I Caanan tell a lie: That Made Me Snort.

Thing1: Well, that's what French-ip is all about.

Me: You Turkey.  

Thing 1: Ha Ha. I'm Hungary. What's for dinner?

Me: Chile.  

Thing 1: I think I might Peru-se the library before I come home today

Me: Now you're Babylon

Thing 1: Sorry. I thought I'd Czech with you to make sure it was Okay

Me: Maybe you need to Persia your bag first. You know. To make room for more crap.

Thing 1: I China get irritated but I think you just insulted my organizational skills.

Me: Irish you could see how hard I laughing.

Thing 1: Iraq my brain so hard every time people start one of these conversations with me and it always gives me a headache.

Me: So what you're saying is I'm Ghana win?

Thing 1: Nether... lands.

Me: Jamaica me crazy, girl.

Me: Kenya say: Mom's rule and Thing 1's drool?

Me: Oman. I'm on a roll!

Me: Should I give you Samoa?

Thing 1: Oman. That is quite possibly the most inaccurate statement ever.

Me: Uganda give me credit . . . And you can't use the same one twice. 

Thing 1: NOT COOL. Gabon Man. You stole mine!

Me: {evil laugh} Yemen. I rule. You drool.

Thing 1: Laos - er. You're doing multiple at once. The world is only so big.

Me: Geeze. Quit having a Macau.

Thing 1: Just come get me, okay?

Me: Kuwait for me outside.

---
You're Welcome and Have a Nice Day.

My new addiction is Live from Daryl's House. It's real, authentic music played by musicians who are just jammin', having a good time and I can't get enough of it. I made a playlist of all my favorites from his 40+ episodes and it streams while I work.

I'm in hog singing heaven, people.
Srsly. Turn up your speakers. Close your eyes. I triple-dog-dare you to not start swayin'. Or dancing. Once the moves have been busted out, the words will beg you to be belted out. Singing along to these familiar tunes is medicine for the soul and will cure any bad mood. Or sad idea. Trust me.

I hope you have your spoonful of Nutella and your Diet Coke (with the good ice) handy because I have a story to tell you. It's a good story-- maybe even a funny story-- but mostly it's a story that showed me who, at the core, I really am.

A Self Narker.

It's true.

I am a total self narker.

I can try my hardest to be dishonest, but it starts gnawing at me. Right there at the back of my brain and it gnaws and gnaws until I can't stand it and I nark myself out.

Always.

It eats at me until I have to come clean.

Big stuff and little stuff. I just can't do it. It eats at me until I just can't stand it anymore and I blurt it out and I have to come clean.

Jiminy Cricket would be so proud of me.

I have a very healthy conscience and at times I think it works overtime.

Take for instance when I was at work the other night. A yellow bracelet that I was jonesing for hard core was on sale and I had a coupon and store credit. I also found a jacket (cause I was freezing) that I planned on buying on my break.

I bought the items and I wanted to wear them the rest of the night so I proceeded to show the other employees my receipt so they wouldn't think I had stolen them. They all looked at me as if I was crack.

One of my co-workers looked at me funny and said "I would never think that you stole that, Elisa. I trust you."

The manager laughed at me and said "I trust you Elisa. I know you wouldn't steal."

They both said the same thing and I never wanted to give them a reason to not trust me. So I showed them all the receipt anyway.

That's important to me, people being able to trust me. I am a trustworthy person and I never want to anything to make people not be able to trust me. 

Now to the point of this post.

I went shopping unexpectedly yesterday. Jefe left his laptop at home and so I happily volunteered to take it to him.

Hello. He works next to City Creek. Why wouldn't I want to take him his laptop? I could love on him for a few minutes and then I could happily wander the shops. Which is my new favorite past time. Maybe I could finally buy those aqua and orange pants that I have been wanting.


Once the eagle had landed and the package was secure, Moxie and I headed out on our adventure. We played on the playground. We counted the trout in the pond and creek. We went into every. single. store. kid and mommy alike and we shared an awesome almond vanilla steamer from the Nordstroms E-bar.

It was an afternoon filled with sheer nirvana. 

I admired the colored skinny jeans and Moxie hung out at the jewelry section. It was a shopping companionship made in heaven! She would tell me what necklaces I should buy that would match my pants and I would buy her lip gloss and feather hair bands.

When we finally got to our intended destination, I was elated to find that both colors of pants I wanted were there. I immediately started trying on shirt and pant combos, coming up with amazing color blocking creations that would rival any fashion week runway model.

I tried on every color of the rainbow and Moxie and I were having a ball. Well, at least I was having a ball. She was happily watching a movie on my phone.

God Bless iPhones and Netflix.

I purchased my new found treasures and we headed homeward bound.

We chatted all the way home about all the fun things we saw -- she loved the orange pants that were her size, the fountain that sprayed to music and all the fishes in the "lake".

All in all it was a good day.

Until I got home, that is.

Upon getting undressed to get ready for work I realized that I was still wearing a tank that I had tried on earlier. I have to be honest: when I realized I had it on I gasped with horror and actually threw the shirt away from me -- as if just holding it was going to condemn me to prison.

Jefe's told me all about what prison is like from when he was a Federal Defender. I know from his stories that it's a place I never, ever want to go. I have a healthy fear of police and jail.

I started doing my famous panic dance and was mumbling "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."

Peeps. I was horrified.

Images of prison whizzed through my head which made my panic dance even more epic. I am sure if it would have been recorded, it would leave the So You Think You Can Dance judges amazed and dazed. And wanting the thief's autograph. 

Holy! Freaking! Crap! I'm a thief. I had stolen something.

Accidentally? Yes. But I had not paid for it, so technically it was stolen. 

I was getting ready for work and I had exactly 90 minutes before my shift began. I was sick, people. Sick to my stomach and completely freaked out. I was trying to use all the amazeball skills my counselor has taught me over the past year, but it wasn't working.

As I stood alone in my closet, using my new-mad-skills,  I found myself  thinking a myriad of thoughts:
"No one would know that I had stolen this tank. I would be late for work if I took it back. It was an accident. They probably didn't even notice, either. Besides, it was an honest mistake, no one would ever know and God would forgive me. He always forgives me."

And that's when I made my decision.

I got ready for work and I drove back to Salt Lake to return the "stolen" tank.

I hurried into the shop and found the employee that had helped me earlier and explained what had happened.  She proceeded to look at me with a puzzled look. "You mean, you brought this back? We didn't even notice it was gone. You didn't pay for it and you actually brought it back? Why?"

Yes and yes. Because it's the right thing to do. 

She looked at me and said "Thank you for being honest."

And that's why I did it.

Not because of what some other person would think about me, but because it was the right thing to do. I knew I hadn't paid for that tank. And further, God knew. It doesn't matter a lick what others think, it matters how I feel about myself and how God feels about me. I couldn't live with myself if I had not taken it back.

Besides, this is who I am. At my core I am honest -- A Self Narker -- and sometimes I'm honest to a fault.

People have a hard time with me because I don't talk circles or spin webs. If you ask me something I will respond honestly. There's issues? Lets discuss them honestly and not beat around the bush. If I hear someone has an issue with me or said something false, I will talk to the source and correct the facts. Nothing good ever comes from being dishonest. Never.

The best part of the story?

I was only four minutes late for work.

A good day indeed.

I was driving down the interstate with my girlfriend a while back when she came up with this hair-brained idea for a post, and dare I tell you that I nearly crashed the car I was laughing so hard? She grabbed a piece of junk mail off the floor of my van and quickly started scribbling down what we had been laughing about.

And then I forgot about that brilliant post idea because I lost the envelope in the sea of junk squatting in my van.

However.

I have since found that envelope and it made me snicker all over again. You see it was entirely based on us seeing a 65+ year old man writing REPENT with his Red Solo Cups in the overpass chain-link fence.

Totally serious.

Repent. In the chain-link fence OVER the interstate. 


My girlfriend and I raised our eyebrows, cocked our heads to the side and we both turned to each other with our mouths gaping as if to say "wha the wuh-wuh?" at the exact. same. time.

Which is what nearly caused me to wreck the car.

The dude was greyer than Gandolf the Grey and he was punching those red solo cups into the fence with such fury I thought the fence was going to fall over. He was spelling out Repent. Now, it's quite possible that his message may have included more, but I only saw the repent portion.

Which it seems was a gift from my Muse because the ideas started flowing like Niagra Falls.

*****
In the mall by my house there is a Kiosk that sells Dead Sea Facial rubs. It's run by a bunch of obnoxious kids. They see you coming and start walking towards you yelling all the reasons why your skin is in dire need of their product. I will go to great lengths to avoid the Dead Sea Kiosk because it's just awkward. They don't take no for an answer and will actually follow you along if you aren't rude.

Which I am rather adept at being, but I am trying to be a better person and not be rude.

It's hard people.

Thing 1 and I were at the mall shopping and I forgot to tell her to not look them in the eye or even acknowledge them. If you do? You get sucked into the never ending schpeel of why your face is going to be ruined for eternity without the mud from the birthplace of our Lord and Savior.

I held my head down and quickly made my way past the kiosk. I turned to say something to her and she was nowhere to be found. I assumed she had stopped in the teeny-bopper store we had passed, so I sent her a text and told her where I was heading.

She promptly sent me a text back saying the Dead Sea guy had stopped her and she needed me to come back so he could tell me about all the products she needed for her face.

My response?

"I am not coming back and turn around right now and run. They will hold you hostage. RUN! Run for your life, sweet child 'o mine. RUN AWAY!"

I know. I am so mean.

Then I did a little covert action and watched from afar as she tried to worm her way out of the clutches of the Dead Sea Kiosk hairy dudes.

It was awesomely funny. Because she could see me, but they had no clue that I was her mother so they ignored me and kept pestering her. I wish I could explain the death glares that child of mine sent me. It was the most entertaining thing I had seen all week! 

Now when we are at the mall together walking down the Dead Sea hall? We both pretend to talk on the phone. TO NO ONE. They start approaching and I mouth "I'm on a business call, sorry" and keep on walking discussing the ever increasing cost of rice from China and just keep walking. 

My tip to you? Don't make eye-contact and pretend to be on the phone. Otherwise you'll get sucked in the Dead Sea Vacuum and the only way you can escape is by paying them $34.99 for MUD.

I'll sell you mud from my backyard for that price. Sheesh.

*****
 I have a neighbor that mows his lawn three times a week.

Totally not exaggerating either.

His garage is also spotless.

I fully expect one of these days to come home and find him laying on his belly with a ruler and scissors to make sure his grass is all equally cut and symmetrical.

I wonder how I could get him to channel his OCD over his lawn into MY yard.

{the wheels are turning now peeps}

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I cannot wait for this movie to come out. It looks fantastic!

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I can't wait for this one either!

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That's it for me peeps. Have a good weekend and I'll catch you on the flipside!

My interview/discussion with Sister Julie B. Beck, the General Relief Society President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints finally went live today on The Mormon Channel. She is the president of the worlds largest women's organization and it was a humbling experience being able to meet with her. She is an inspired woman, who cares for the women of the world deeply.

I wrote about my experience meeting with her on my other blog, MMB and if you're interested you can click over there to see what other things I had to say.

For me the some of the biggest things that I took from these meetings with the General Relief Society President, Sister Julie B. Beck, were:

1. The ways we can utilize the war chapters in Alma in raising our families in “enemy territory”. I felt a call to action to learn those chapters and learn them well. They should be every mothers blue-print as we raise our families in enemy territory.

2. We discussed at great length our duty as Latter-day Saint Women Bloggers to be women like Abish—leaders in our own little blogging communities, leading people to righteousness. In fact when I left my first meeting with Sister Beck, I asked her what she would have me do, and she said “Be a woman like Abish and lead people in your own way to righteousness.”

3. The heavy burden that is Sister Becks of being the steward of all the Women and Children. That is a heavy burden to carry. I saw the tears in her eyes as she expressed her love and concern for the women of the church.

4. Her desire for us to all get along and stop being our own worst enemy. We as women can be quite mean to each other. We “war and jangle” with one another—are critical of the choices that each other is making—when we should be the safe place for us each to land. If we were the safe places for each other, then our Relief Societies would be places where we could ask questions, express sorrows, and request help without feeling like we are being judged.

5. That sometimes when we look to our peers for answers to our questions we are just flaming the fire. We need to look to the women in our lives—in our past—to find the answers to the questions that really plague us. Look at the “Grandmother” figures in our wards and search them out and learn from them. Age brings wisdom and they can shed a different light on the issues we are struggling with because of their life experiences.

The experience I had while waiting to meet with her each time was deeply personal. I had the spirit of the Lord strongly present in my life as I read the comments and questions pouring in-- and I had the constant reminder in the back of my mind of the spiritual gift that the Lord has blessed me with. He is a wise one, the Lord, and he knew that this gift-- the simple gift of knowing-- would be the best one for me. I don't need to speak a million languages or see angels. I just know. And that knowing allows me to see, hear and understand all sides of the equation without it damaging my own faith.

Take a listen and see what you think.

I learned some things that blew my mind.

But mostly? I'm proud to call myself a Mormon Woman-- a woman who is strong, educated, progressive,  dedicated and an individual.

Which is what my religion is truly all about-- its an individual experience.

Except Moxie.

And then you wake up raring to go and ready for a party. At 6:30am. Even if Mom was up half the night working.

I love it when I stumble upon amazing finds and this one is my newest, greatest, latest find: Live from Daryl's House.

Peeps.

It's freaking amazeballs!

It's all the Hall & Oats songs from the 80's remade with hot new artists in Daryl Halls HOUSE!

I wish I could just be a fly on the wall and sit and watch. Maybe if I was quiet enough they would indulge me and let me sing along. Just for one song. Or maybe two.  You can tell that these musicians are having the time of their lives just hanging and playin' tunes with each other.

My favorite find so far? It's a toss up between Kiss On My List with Rob Thomas and One on One with Cee Lo Green.

Whoa Nelly. These are freaking amazing and I could listen to them over and over.

Oh wait. I already have. Never mind.

It's raw, real, pure music in its absolute finest form.

Heaven peeps. Heaven.

Now I just need to figure out if I can download all this in either Spotify or iTunes.

You listen and tell me which ones you're diggin' more.
 Great  Balls of Fire! 

I'm in love and have a something new that I'm obsessing over. Which will make Jefe happy so I'll quit bugging him about the "fix it list" that is now a mile and a half long.


*****
I turned the comments back on.

Just to test the waters.

Please be nice to me.


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I'm heading to SLC tomorrow for a huge get together with a bunch of bloggers at the SLC Public Library.

If'n you're wanting to come and hang with the cool kids, that's where we'll be. From 9:30 - 5:00pm There's food, fun and yes. I'll even be listening to General Conference to see what sort of changes come about. I hear there are bunch of peeps going out to dinner after, too. You could maybe tag along with us. If you're so inclined.

Get more deets here. 

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I love it when I find a good book to read, too. And boy howdy do I ever have a good one right now! I have been basking in the sun outside while Moxie chalks the crap out of the driveway and I read and read and read. The book is over a thousand pages and I am in sheer hog-freaking-heaven.



This is the first book that I have ever read of Steven King's and I pink sparkly puffy heart LOVE it. A lot.

I am NOT a fan of horror. AT. ALL. But this? It's fantastic.

{i loved his made for tv movie The Stand, too. it rocked my world. and still does.}



*****
Do you Spotify?

Man alive. I do. I LOVE Spotify. More than Pandora or iTunes.

It's freaking awesome and I love that it's all at my finger-tips and ripe for the pickings and I just have to pay a small monthly fee instead of buying every freaking damn song.

I want to marry Spotify.

I wonder if Jefe will mind ?


*****
I have been non-stop listening to the Live from Daryl's House for the last few days, and decided that I will break the rules today for the random 10 and pick my favorites from what I have heard.

 I"ll link to their videos for you.

Cause I'm a giver like that.

Prepare to have your minds blown. 

1. Here Comes the Rain Again - Dave Stewart & Daryl Hall 
2. Kiss On My List - Rob Thomas & Daryl Hall 
3. Private Eyes - Mayer Hawthorn, Booker T & Daryl Hall
4. One on One - Mat Nathanson & Daryl Hall
5. She's Gone - Rob Thomas & Daryl Hall
6. Something to Talk About - KT Tunstall & Daryl Hall
7. Past the Sleep - Company of Theives & Daryl Hall
8. Ain't No Sunshine - Finger 11 & Daryl Hall
9. Sara Smile/Ooh Ooh Baby - Smoky Robinson & Daryl Hall
10. Adult Education - Neon Trees & Daryl Hall

 Bonus:  Family Man - Chromeo & Daryl Hall