There's a Little Black Spot on the Sun Today, and a Big Black Spot on my Heart.

So far 2011 hasn't really made many friends with me. I thought that I broke my toe. After weeks of pain killers and walking around with two of them tied together, I'm noticing that it is not my toe that hurts. Actually, it's the spot where I originally broke my foot in college. So that's awesome. Tricky thing about pain killers, they may mask pain and help you feel better, but they may also mask the actual problem, which must eventually be dealt with. 

With that in mind, I wish someone could come up with an emotional or heart based pain killer. Those are the pains that dig the deepest and linger the longest. But as experience and wisdom will always show, some pain shouldn't be masked, but rather should be felt,  experienced and worked through. 


The pain of my broken toe pales in comparison to news that one of my good friends from high school passed away in his sleep Sunday night. He was 32 and has twin boys that are just barely a year old.  I have known and loved Todd since we were kids. Unfortunately, most of our contact of late has come simply by bumping into each other at church every now and then, or passing stories back and forth between friends that see him more frequently than I. We obviously lost touch once he got married and started having kids.  I was single, traveling and doing other things. We were at different points in our lives. I guess that sort of thing just happens. But this totally has come as a slap in the face. Huge reminder not to let friendships and relationships slip thru the cracks just because we get tied up in the minutiae of our own lives. 

 For some reason, I can't shake this off, or even begin to wrap my mind around it. At this point, I'm not really sure I want to just yet. As the mormon grapevine swoops into full swing, there are all sorts of "What if's" and "How's" and "Why's" being whispered in hushed tones, like there is supposed to be some intriguing and tabliod-esque answer to feed peoples desire for salacious details. But those details, in my opinion, are none of our business. Better left as questions. That is between Todd, his wife and the Lord.

At then end of the day, I go to bed thinking that Todd was a good man, who sometimes stumbled, but tried his best. Heck, sometimes he tried so hard to help those on his mission hat he wound up getting him and his companion blown off of a rooftop in Mexico by what they thought was a dead power line! (One of their contacts or friends got a pair of shoes stuck on the power line, if I remember correctly) He even had the hand print burn and the hole in the bottom of his foot to prove it. He loved his family and left everyone feeling better than they did before they met him. I can picture the 14 year old Todd, who would put hand lotion in his hair instead of gel, "Because it even makes your hair softer, see?" just as well as I can the 30 year old Todd, looking exactly the way you would expect the parent of newborn twins to look. Though time had taken it's toll, there was a part of him that would never, could never change. He would know I was upset about something, cock his head to the side and put that smirk on his face, stick his arms out and wave me into some of the best hugs I can remember. Sometimes to remind me that the guy I was dating (or getting dumped by) was a loser, sometimes just because I looked frantic and upset (which is sadly, more often than you would think). Sometimes he would hug me because I hadn't seen him in a while, and the hug smeared out all of the space that had passed since last we talked, and sometimes..... he'd hug me just because. No reason. And it was fool proof. I don't know if I ever told him that, but I always felt happier, more loved, and more cared about after a Todd hug.  

I moved into his parents ward last month. I saw ma and pa Houser sitting up toward the front of the chapel, and thought, "I should call Todd and see how he is holding up with the twins." Leave it to me to ignore promptings of the spirit.....and now I'll never get the chance to tell him what a great influence he was in my life. And what a great friend he was. Pretty sure I will kick myself for a while for that move. 



I just hope that one of Todd's buddies  or brothers will take up the mantle and make sure the boys know all of the schenanigans their dad got himself tied up in. Like taking a group date to an abandoned mine where they staged his death by falling down a shaft, impaling a metal bar through his shirt, complete with fake blood and everything....just to freak the girls out. (which, by all accounts worked like gang busters.) The camping trips that we went on where his ONLY job was to bring chili and can opener, only to show up with about 15, one gallon cans of chili (for 5 people) but not a single can opener. "Relax, we'll just find a sharp stick or rock." I'm actually shocked that we all didn't get tetanus right there and then. If I had a nickel every time I heard that phrase, "Relax, we'll just..." I'd have a crap load of nickels. To this day, that phrase speaks fear and trepidation to my soul. Even more so if it is said whilst in the wilderness during the time period just before cell phones that could be used to call for rescue. And, someone's definitely going to have to  teach his children the art of pulling off a perfect toilet papering....which of course includes MUCH more than toilet paper, a-la street signs, flashing cones, for sale signs, crime scene tape and liquid soap.  


But above all, I hope that those little boys have in them that special part of Todd that makes everyone they encounter feel a little more loved, a little more cared for and just plain happier than they were before they met. Because if there is any silver lining to be found in such a sad situation, that's got to be it. 

As if my last post wasn't convincing enough...

So on the "The Mighty B is hilarious" front, he had to give a talk in primary this afternoon. He wrote his talk and I typed it up for him so he could read it easily. As is Mormon custom, he planned on ending his talk with bearing his testimony of the Gospel and the principles that he spoke about. The final line of his talk read something  like this, "As it says in the scriptures, when you serve others, you are serving God as well, because we are his children. I would like to bear my testimony that..."

All morning he would read and practice his talk and at the end rather than bear his testimony, as the ellipsis was intended to prompt him to do, he read it literally. "I like to bear my testimony, dot, dot, dot" Then giggle like a mad man.

We all tried to keep a straight face and tell him that doing that was NOT ACCEPTABLE in any way. We  moved onto the reverence and respect arguments...and eventually he promised he'd do it right.

So there we were in primary, listening to him give his talk. As he was winding up he got ready to bear his testimony, and said, "When you are in the service if your fellow men, you make God happy. And serving can even be fun some times. I'd like to bear my testimony that..." Then with a devilish, but adorable grin and giggle, he backed down the steps from the microphone and muttered just loudly enough that I could hear him in the back of the room, "dot, dot, dot. Amen"

Talk about a Turkey.

Wisdom of the Ages

(You are right Scott...I WILL NOT BE CENSORED!)

Before I left for Africa, I had a conversation with a friend/coworker that went a little something like this.

"Did you remember to pack condoms?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Hey- I know you're Mormon and all that, but stranger things have happened."

"Yeah- I'm fairly certain that at no point in this trip will I be in need of condoms. I'd pretty much bet the farm on it." After 31-ish years of rampant Mormonism, there are some things that you do know for certain.

"Whatever...I'm just sayin'."

Little did I know, stranger things did in fact happen. I'm just sayin'.

Okay-fine.....so the picture is apparently 'in bad taste' but you probably need a little more in your life if this is what you choose to get worked up about. How do you suppose we got Simba in the first place! If you want to see more Africa pics along with funny commentary, you should probably be my friend on the great FB. Which you probably should be anyway.....cause everyone needs to see my face a little more often than they do.

I'll take more Sunday's

As luck would have it this was my week to teach the Young Women. Obviously, I was not looking forward to it being that as of late I have been...hmm...full of funk. The thing is, it's not the Gospel that is the problem...it's the organization that I don't feel particularly tied to. I realize that one can't be completely separated from the other, but nevertheless, there you have it. Anyhow, being that Easter and General Conference fall on the same Sunday, the topic for my lesson was regarding the several days leading up to the Crucifixion. In my stumbling around various talks and such, I came across this address from Elder Wirthlin. He talked about how dark and forsaken Christ felt in the Garden, how that Friday, the earth was rent and twain with sorrow and grief. But Sunday came....and it always will.

I liked that. Funny the timing of how we find these things.

Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.

But I testify to you in the name of the One

who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.

No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin

October 2006

Don't quote me on this...

Holly Golightly (and a fellow blogger I stalk) nailed it when she expounded,

"I don't have the blues. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?" ?"

I've got the reds. The mean, mean reds. Do you ever feel like the rules that you grew up with and live your life by don't seem to make so much sense anymore? Like they weren't designed with you in mind. They make sense in theory and on paper, but in reality you seem to have grown out of them...they just don't seem to apply to any of the situations that you find yourself in. Your choices are to continue to peddle your bike with training wheels, even though you have been riding that bike for YEARS. Long, lonely, years.....but in all fairness, there has been a crap-ton of fun during certain points of the ride. Or you are shoved into the swinging senior singles bus simply because you both have unadorned ring fingers. Again, just to be fair, there are some wonderful people on that bus, but just not 'my people.' In each situation you feel more and more juvenilized. More often then not, I feel as though I am being placated, and verbally pat on the head. (I am sure you can imagine how well I take to being patted on the head, literally or verbally.) I appreciate the sincere encouragement that most people toss out which well intended, I am sure. But seldom does it serve the speakers intended purpose, "Buck up lil' camper. Things'll get better. Look at Sister Dew!"

(For the record, I have never found that as anything other than completely terrifying.....never even a little bit comforting)

I guess this might just be some cruel cosmic teaching opportunity meant to help me relate to my fictional and mythical teenage children. I do, in fact, know how they feel. But I've got the message dude. Now I just feel like we are beating a dead horse....and sadly, I feel like I actually am that horse. Yes, indeed, I know now how those angst ridden teenagers feel when they stomp their foot and shout, "You don't understand!" Now I get where their angst comes from. I also know that the problem is mine. My attitude needs to change...but plain and simple I am out of ideas as to how to go about that. I've tried all the usual suspects and fixes. Honestly, they leave me feeling worse than I did when I began. You may want to step away so the lightening doesn't strike you, but I can't think of a more lonely place on Earth than sitting in the celestial room, by myself, or with one of my girlfriends/roomates.

So- I for now, I go through the motions...more often than not, faking a smile and the enthusiasm that seems to be expected, but hoping and praying to God that this too shall pass. Fake it till you make it, right? But truth be told, I don't know that it will. Certainly there has got to be a place for all of these square pegs...but all I can see for now are round holes.

Like I said, don't quote me on this. I have no answers. I am renouncing nothing, nor proclaiming anything. I am neither turning in my recommend, nor doing anything that would require such. I am rambling...musing on, if you will. But there you have it. I can't be the only 30-ish Morm who feels this way. If one of you has the magic bullet to fix the problem....spill it, ASAP. If you quip, "Why don't you just get married," then pat me on the head, I am definitely going to go track down that magic bullet....and I am quite a good shot.

I'm trying to old out hope like Holly. Heaven knows I've spent enough money at Tiffany's to put one of my hypothetical children through college, that is neither here nor there. But I would like to find that place that makes me feel peace, safe, warm, and welcome. Right now, I can't ind it. But if Holly (who was pretty much by actual definition a whore) managed to find her place, I can too.

"Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!"

Right now, I have no such place. But when I find it, you better believe I am buying some sweet furniture and naming the hell out of that cat!

*Don't need to get the APB out to the bishop, I am just venting about the frustration of feeling like one of the few single people around here in a very family oriented church, like I no longer am going to a church where 'everybody knows my name,' and who wants to go to a place where you don't feel like everyone knows your name?

Rise and Shout The Newest Cougar Is Out!

Ahhhhh look at how little he started! So quiet, so sweet.
A little love bug that can be best comforted by his papa! (Anyone else wig out at the thought of Jonathon, the Golden Boy, raising another human life.) He has fallen into his new responsibility quite seemlessly. Granted, he has the hardest road to hoe, balancing his family and their nutty wants and desires.

And really at some point in this life he will ask about the choice if this little beenie, and with clean hands I will be able to tell him that I had nothing to do with it......but I do find it kind of baby adorable. What a traitor I am, I know.

But check this out. He can totally take care of himself now!

Rise and shout, this cougar is out (of his mama's body, that is). He is only 3 months, almost weighs 20lbs and he is sosoooo big and squishy, and adorable. He is ticklish. especially if you rub noses with him. Giggles every time, with his big gummy, no tooth baby mouth. Have I mentioned how much I love gummy, no toothed, baby mouths? Incase I haven't....know that I am one bad decision away from snatching a baby of my very own. (Until we start dealing with dirty diapers...then I realize the folly of my baby snatching plans)

I love him so much....and he's a cougar.

So suck on that all you haters. How do you feel now? Talk trash to an infant...if you feel like you must. But last I heard, giving a baby crap about the univ that he is represents, helps the terrorists win. An angel loses her wings...and somewhere God kicks a puppy. So say what you will about BYU. Baby Jesus is watching. They'll call ahead and have the rest of the U fans save you a seat....in hell.:)

I just became that crazy girl...again

I enjoy being honest. In person, I don't hide my feelings well. Normally, my face reveals much, if not all, of what I am thinking. I don't just wear my heart on my sleeve. I blow it up, tie it to a string and march around carrying it like a balloon. But here on the internet, I tend to shy away from actual matters of the heart...and gravitate more toward things that are ridiculous and/or amusing to me in some way. Because really- who wants to read all of that touchy feely crap anyway? I think blogs, by definition are meant to communicate information via sarcasm and whit...with an occasional ridiculous video.

That being said, there have been some things bouncing around my head lately that I have not been able to shake. I can't shake these thoughts because much, but certainly not all, of the drama 'round here, has been my doing. Don't you hate when you step back and see that you are making trouble, but can't stop if from proceeding? Ah well, if anything good has come from this, I have at least come to recognize where my super-sensitivity and overreactions come from. I'm Mormon, single, over 30, but smoking hot and hilarious, and the only one of my siblings who has yet to wed and reproduce. I am the veritable, Last Unicorn. If you are at all familiar with Mormon culture(not necessarily the same as Mormon doctrine) you can imagine the feelings of failure, doubt, loneliness, embarrassment, confusion, etc. that come along with my lot in life.

Being that all of my siblings have had children of there own, most of them live nearby, or visit quite frequently, issues of auntie/child interaction come up periodically. "Don't give that to the baby," "I'd rather you not_______," "No they can't stay with you for the summer." While most times, their parents have had reasonable requests, sometimes they have seemed mildly ridiculous to me, but whatever, they're not my children. I'm not the boss. I need to allow my siblings to raise their children as they choose. Even if I think it will be funny to see how the baby would like a ride on the dogs back.

The problem is that my reaction to these requests to not poke, prod, pose for funny/perhaps compromising photo op's and otherwise lovingly torture my nieces and nephews could be described in Fat man/Little boy, Chernobyl type proportions. Granted, I may have a tendency to overreact occasionally. However, every time, these little mini dramas have cut me pretty much to the bone. Totally shaken me. Leveled me to a sniveling, blubbering, mess who mutters things like, "How does no one understand and/or care about how this is all making ME feel. I am not a child. I love these kids and do not need to be chastised!" (Yes- I recognize the selfishness in that sentence.)

Earlier today, I had a mild mini-revelation as to why I get so upset by my family questioning how well I am able to care for their children. My patriarchal blessing talks about being a mother and a grandmother to a multitude of children. However...as can be gleaned from the aforementioned description of my relationship status...that blessing doesn't appear to be coming to fruition any time soon. The next step my mind takes is to ask the question, why? Knowing full well that the last time I kissed anything, it was a long, hard, wet, goodbye kiss to that good for nothing frienemy, Logic. The only thing I can come up with is that I must have screwed up somewhere along the way. As a result, Heavenly Father must have lost faith in my ability to care and raise happy and healthy family of my own. Thus....I am doomed to wander the planet alone. Like the Incredible Hulk, but more pudgy and white than musclebound and green. Point being...when my siblings hover and question how I treat their children, it reaffirms the fear (illogical though it may be) that Heavenly Father, and apparently my family has lost faith in me as well.

And that makes me sad...which has a tendency to lead to tears....and full scale emotional breakdowns. It's just how I work and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

If You Don't Get it.....You Never Will

Twilight Years from Tom on Vimeo.

courtesy of sherpa

Where did you go November?

Well- I started out here (it's a horrible picture, but it's the only one I have)



Then I went here,





and did this,





With these people,





There were more surfing pictures, but in the interest of keeping just a smidgen of dignity...I will keep those for a more intimate audience. Know that there was blood involved. It was very Blue Crush.

Finally, we wrapped it up in the Pacific NoWest for the baptism of this one
Apparently, I need to squeeze her as hard as possible. She deserved it.

And yes- it has all been very fun, but I am exhausted.

Tick, Tick, Tock

This is the transcript from a conversation with my new doctor yesterday.

Him: So what brings you in today?

Me: Well, I have been really anemic for quite a while, and I just generally feel like crap, pretty sure there's something wrong with me, etc. So here I am. Fix me please.

Him: Are you sexually active?

Me: Actually, I'm wildly Mormon.

Him: Ahhh-that says a lot.

Me: I am aware of that.

Him: (looking back at his chart) Well you are 29. You are aware that the clock is really ticking for you, right?

Me: That's the rumbling on the street.

Him: Isn't marriage and kids like the pinnacle of success in the Mormon world? This doesn't happen very often, does it? What's the problem?

Me: I am a mystery and an enigma.

Him: Well, having talked to a lot of female patients I understand that finding Mr. Wonderful is not exactlly the easiest thing to do in the AV.

Me: I'm unclear. Are you propositioning me,throwing your hat in the ring? That I could understand. Anything else, and I'm confused as to where this is going.

Him: Anyhow- that's my two cents on that. It is what it is, just FYI I guess. Something to think about.

Me: Thank you for this new and exciting information about the ticking time bomb that is my uterus. I will take that under advisement. I have a puppy at home, would you like me to run and get him so that you can kick him too? Cause that somehow seems appropriate at this point in time.

And scene.


True Confession: Some of my more snarky comments (like the one about kicking my puppy) were really just running around in my head and didn't actually get committed to words, but some of them did. Many responses were mixed between radio silence and awkward laughter.

That was honestly, the most bizarre doctors appointment I have ever had. Everything he said was with a smile and super pleasant. He seemed pretty genuine, really concerned, yet insulting and condescending at the same time. That really threw me off.

It wasn't until I got back to my car and sat for a moment that I realized the full weight of the wierdness. Really- in which year of med school do you learn to tell a single mormon woman, flirting with 30, that she needs to start thinking about a family?


So there you have it. Gentlemen, I believe this is a call to arms. For the sake of the Future!

You Got the Right One, Baby. Uhhhh Huh.

The significance of sustaining our leaders is not at all lost on me. I love having the opportunity, every six months, to check in and restate that I love and support the leadership of my church.

But I gotta say, I did get a little choked up when they read through the list of promonent members who have passed away since last conference. Still kind of tugged at my heart. Still a little bitter-sweet.

Mormon was the Book That They Gave Me

Not sure why, but I kind of wish this was true. Explains why I've always felt a connection to the D-O-double G.


http://cnnentertainment.co.nr/2008/SHOWBIZ/Music/04/01

DIAMOND BAR, California (AP) -- In what some may consider an unexpected move, rap artist "Snoop Dogg" has reportedly converted to Mormonism after nearly a year of study with the fast-growing, Utah-based faith.
In a statement, a spokeswoman for Snoop Dogg -- whose real name is Calvin Broadus -- said he considers himself extremely fortunate to have discovered such a deep sense of spiritual fulfillment at this stage in his life.
“Mr. Broadus is also very pleased to find that his family is as enthusiastic about attending church services as he is,” the spokeswoman said.
However, Snoop Dogg has not been enthusiastic about publicly sharing his experience and declined to be interviewed by CNN for this article. In fact, he reportedly informed producers of his E! reality show "Snoop Dogg's Father Hood" that this particular aspect of his family's life was off-limits to the cameras. Still, he left open the possibility of addressing the subject in future episodes.
According to the Associated Press, Snoop Dogg was first introduced to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, as the Mormon Church is officially known, after attending a Gladys Knight concert in an LDS meeting house in Los Angeles.
Knight, who very publicly discusses her conversion to Mormonism several years ago, invited Snoop Dogg to what is known to the Mormon faithful as “Family Home Evening,” a church program that encourages families to set aside Monday evenings for gospel-centered lessons and family togetherness.
Though Snoop Dogg has been hesitant to publicly discuss his recent spiritual journey, he commented on the experience of attending his first “Family Home Evening” in a recent interview with People Magazine.
“I was hooked from the start,” Snoop Dogg said. “We talked about the purpose of life, played Mousetrap, and ate brownies. The kids thought it was off the hook, for real.”
In what Snoop Dogg now thinks was anything but a coincidence, Mormon missionaries had knocked on his door just one week before the Knight concert. He said he had initially turned them away because of what he knew about the strict Mormon health code, which prohibits members from smoking, drinking alcohol, and using drugs.
“Y’all know me,” he said grinning broadly. “There were just certain things the old me -- the "natural man" -- needed to do. And these young guys are telling me that God’s not down with disrespecting ourselves. But it’s cool now.”
Snoop Dogg said his conversion marks the end of his old life, one that included frequent run-ins with the law. Snoop Dogg was convicted in 1990 of cocaine possession and charged with gun possession after a 1993 traffic stop. In 1997, he pleaded guilty in exchange for a lighter sentence.
In 1996, Snoop Dogg was acquitted of murder after a purported gangbanger was killed by gunfire from the vehicle in which Snoop Dogg was traveling.
Snoop Dogg dismisses critics who claim his conversion is intended to placate a Salt Lake County judge, before whom he is appealing an alleged probation violation.
“Listen, the haters will say what they will,” Snoop Dogg said. “I can only do what I feel is right.”

Gordon B.

This upsets me way more than Heath.

I am so sad that President Hinckley has died...but at least he's with his wife. He has missed her.