3 confessions to the spider

Dear spiders,
I know that you know how much I dislike you.  I think I have made myself very clear.  I arranged for our place to be sprayed to kill you.  I smoosh even the cutest baby spider on contact.  I will sometimes yell at you out of anger when you surprise me.  But I must confess a few instances where I have held off on my killing quest.

1 - Spiders that live in my tomato plants:  I spend quite a bit of time lately trying pick all my tiny tomatoes.  Sometimes, as I am picking, I will see that you have built your web close to the ground around some beautifully red tomatoes.  In such a case, I leave you be.  I don't really need those tomatoes, I think.  I am even so kind that if I am picking a beautiful tomato higher up and it falls to the ground beneath a shroud of tomato green, I will let it go - cause it's gone.  It is just not worth it to me to stick my hand into such a place.  I've seen enough episodes of the Deadly Dozen to know not to do that.

2 - Dear spider that is taking over the 4th step outside my door: I don't know why I have let you continue to expand your web across my stairwell.  I have seen you jump back into the corner of your web when I step outside and slam my door behind me.  I'm sorry to disappoint you, as you probably thought you were successfully hiding from me.  Be assured that I know you are there.  I also suspect that you are black widow.  You are different from the spiders that enter my house.  You stay in your web and you are jet black and spindly.  Maybe I left you because I wasn't sure how best to kill you.  Or maybe I figured you would meet your end when the spider spray man waved his wand at you.  And sure enough, ever since then, your web has been empty.  RIP, little one.

3 - To the basketball playing spider:  I wish you had just stayed in Australia where you belong.  What are the chances that you would be on the very pair of basketball shorts that I picked up at the athletic store yesterday?  I saw you quickly and put the shorts back but then had to take a closer look at you to see if you were a black widow.  But your red was a stripe on top of your abdomen instead of an hourglass shape on the underside.  I am ashamed to say that I left you there on that pair of shorts on the rack for the next unsuspecting person to find.  When I discovered that you are a poisonous spider in Australia, I called the store to let them know what I had seen.  The girl responded with: "what do you want me to do about it?".  I should warn you that they may be coming for you - but it doesn't seem likely.

part 27 of 365

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 27:  The Style Fail

Welcome back to what I like to call the: 'Melissa has time to blog at work era'.  Today's topic is something I always secretly wanted when I was a little girl but now that I have it, I don't know how to handle it.  You may have figured out by now that I have been called as a Den Leader in my ward.  When I was 5-10 years old and had 3 older brothers all in scouts, I just knew I would look amazing and cool in a scout shirt... if only I could have one.  Basically, I was picturing the above picture.  Doesn't she look super cute?  To be fair to myself, I don't own a scout hat yet but let me tell you, things are not looking promising.

I was actually called back in March but it took me a while to get my shirt because I wanted one of the really really cute yellow ones.  It turns out they just discontinued those so I couldn't find one smaller than a size 52 (yeah, I don't know either) so I had to just settle for a really cute tan one.  I got word about a month ago that there was going to be a cub scout leader pow wow at the end of August and in the instructions, it said I needed to wear my uniform because some of the classes were going to be in the chapel.  That's when I finally knuckled down and bought their smallest shirt that came just in time for me to wear it.

I don't think I can adequately describe my disappointment when I put it on and realized that I look superbly lame in it.  No problem, I thought, I can just put on my army pants and army belt and tuck in the shirt and that will solve everything!  But, do you see how the ladies above look like cute den leaders with their outfits on?  I do not look like that with my 'outfit' on.  But I think I've figured out the problem.  I don't have a chest.  See how their shirt is appropriately tight in that area?  Mine doesn't do that.  I even sewed up the sides to make it smaller and it still doesn't even begin to look like them.  I just look like a boy with a chin-length bob cut.

That was not a good start to my day.  But when I got there, I realized that only the older den leaders were wearing their uniform.  All the girls that were 45 or younger were wearing their normal cute jeans or shorts and flip flops.  The obedient molly in me wanted to feel self-righteous that I had followed instructions, but I really just knew that I was officially a scouting nerd.  Can anyone help me?  How do I make my outfit cute?  You don't want to know all the different ideas that have gone through my head but I think chances are low that any of them would look good.  But that's ok because this is a challenge and it's the challenges that keep me alive.

R.I.P. my mom's metabolism

Here's a classic Melissa story from right before my mission:

My single's ward relief society had its retreat and all the single ladies met to go camping. Around the fire that night, I sat with all the rest playing get to know you activities. This particular activity was: Tell us your favorite thing about your body. Well, let's just say I didn't have a very good opinion of my body at that time (acne, gangly, big nosy and long toesies). All the other girls were saying things like: "my cuticles", "my nose", "my cute feet", "my smooth skin". As I looked around the fire at the other girls; a lot of whom were overweight, all I could think of to say was: "I'm grateful I got my mom's metabolism instead of my dad's" (cause see: my mom is skinny and my dad was bigger). Many years of heckling and persecution followed such an insensitive comment.

10 years later, I am finally saying goodbye to eating whatever I want, whenever I want. I feel like my life is over. I know, you all feel SO sorry for me, but I hope you will support me during this traumatic time. I'm not sure how my mom's metabolism's death was brought on. It could be the 5lb bag of candy bars that I ate in a week's period of time at work. Or could it be that I suddenly crave food ALL the time instead of just when I'm hungry? (What is that about?!)

Speaking of awkward Melissa moments. I had another one just yesterday:
I don't know how many of you knew that I was dating someone for a few months (pick yourself up off the floor). We broke up about a month ago. Yesterday, at church, these two older ladies that I love greeted me and asked if my special friend was still in my life. I said: "Oh, we broke up". To which, one of them said: "oh, good... good!.... will we be getting an announcement soon?"

I paused to study her face and bent closer to her ear and said: "WE BROKE UP". They then had a look of comprehension come over them but still said: "oh good... good!".

I just nodded my head in confusion for a while until the other one said: "so...did he move out then?"

No wonder they thought it was good!

part 26 of 365

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 26: Butter, Spreadable Butter, Garlic Butter, and Margarine

Do you remember that part of the movie Elf where he tells elves 4 main food groups? (Candy, Candy Canes, Candy Corns, and Syrup) Well, I am the same way with butter. As an example, I have taken a picture of my fridge, as it is today:

Don't worry, the cheese is in the door. And that carton of eggs in the bottom right corner has one egg left in it. Everything needed to sustain Melissa's life!

Butter is pretty much good on anything - except maybe jello, though I'm not sure.

My friend Carla makes these yummy biscuits that she claims have enough butter in them, that you don't need to put any butter on them. My pardons to Carla, but her words don't even make sense. Everything is better with butter on it!

For proof, I would point you to this article I found a couple years ago, written by Matthew in North Salt Lake. He is also a true believer. I wonder if he's married....

If you are too lazy to read the entire article, let me quote the highlights for you:

"Some of my earliest and most fond memories are of me and my family sitting around spreading butter on stuff. Toast, baked potatoes, corn on the cob, hot dinner rolls, you name it – we spread butter on it. I remember when I was in Cub Scouts and my dad and I spread butter on my first Pinewood Derby car. I remember the time I came home after dropping off Stacy Peacock at her house on prom night. My dad was waiting up for me. He saw the tears in my eyes and before I could even tell him what was wrong, he was spreading butter on my face.

I love my dad for the butter he gave me and I hope that I can give that same gift to my children. It’s a hard world to live in these days, but if we just remember to believe in butter, i know that it can give us the strength to make it through anything."

So, apparently, even faces are better with butter on them. I can't wait to try it.

Amen, Matthew... A-MEN

my life just got 3.14 times better

Yesterday we all celebrated one of the fastest growing holidays on the planet (determined with statistics from a dow melissa poll). If I knew more about pi, I imagine would be able to make a lot of intelligent quips right now about the circumference of my waist the day after Pi Day. I do believe I am at least 3.14 times larger around today than I was yesterday pre pie ingestion.

Other ways I celebrated this important day:

• I hit my snooze bar 3.14 times
• Was 3.14 minutes late for work
• Had 3.14 for customers get mad at me
• Attended 3.14 Pi/Pie parties (3 parties plus a piece of pie in bed before I went to sleep)
• Met 3.14 new nerdy friends at each party - 10 total, but one was really small.
• Got stuck in the far left hand turn lane at a malfunctioning stop light long enough to bake a pie and eat it
• Successfully avoided making a pie for the 3.14th year in a row.

Thank you to all you people who did make pies so that I could eat them. Officially, I tried 6 different pies last night. I think that's a record for a girl with a body that would rather take a good soak in the great salt lake than eat too much sugar.

Part 25 of 365

Things that keep Melissa Alive

Part 25: Growing old with the old


As you know, I recently moved and started a new job. I also stopped working at the temple. Even though I continue to age, I thought that no longer working at the temple would make me less of an old lady; although I continue to play bridge (ok I played it once), eat poached eggs, avoid wearing heeled shoes, and enjoy family history.

I started going to a family ward and I love it! It is riddled with old people which makes for much entertainment. I find that the elderly are often like young children in that way.

For example: This last sunday, in RS, we had the last few minutes for testimonies. A sister with a walker stood up at the back to share her testimony from there. She was talking a little quietly but I didn't think much of it. About 5 minutes into her testimony, another older sister at the front of the room stood up (also where she was) and said rather loudly: "SISTERS, I'D LIKE TO SHARE MY TESTIMONY..." Across the room someone yelled "SHARON IS ALREADY GIVING HER TESTIMONY, SISTER!" At which point, the second sister apologized because she hadn't heard the first sister talking for that entire 5 minutes. Everyone then went back to their glazed looks like nothing had happened.

On Monday night, we had 3 older single ladies in our ward over so they could tell us about their month-long trip to Antarctica! We want to invite different people over like this but for some reason, we (maybe it's just me) are drawn more to the older ladies than the young families. Or maybe it's that the older ladies are more approachable and easier to be friends with!

My new job also finds me on the phone all day with many older people. From them, I also find entertainment, but mainly frustration. They don't know how to attach files, close a browser window, open a new browser tab, turn on their computer, or put their phone on speaker phone. It made me wonder if the older ladies in my ward that I love are also lacking these skills? I wondered how I can love these customers as much as I love my ward members? The solution is obvious: I need to go to church with all of them. Anybody want to join me on a road trip?

If I do the math, I'm not really as old as 'old people', but according to the cartoon at the top of this post, I am one.

I'm glad I have joined my people.

Parts 22, 23 & 24 of 365

Things that Keep Melissa Alive

Part 22: New Digs!

Part 23: Cool Ocean!

Part 24: New Job!

You know when people ask you what's new and you very lamely respond..."not much, you?" I got to the point where I thought I would never ever have anything new to tell anyone. Well guess what? New is now my middle name. I can talk for hours about New. Unfortunately, I don't have time to talk for hours about it on here and that's what this post is about.

Here's how it played out:

New Digs! - On Saturday, Nov 19th, I moved into my sweet new basement living quarters. I seriously love pretty much everything about the place. Here's the positives and negatives:

Positives:

1. Close proximity to the home I grew up in
2. Close proximity to Burger King
3. Continuing close proximity to McDonalds and Ridleys (they're everywhere!)

Negatives:

1. Close proximity to the home I grew up in
2. Lack of close proximity to Home Depot
3. Lack of close proximity to Del Taco

Obviously, I have made some big sacrifices to move here by giving up having del taco and home depot just around the corner.

Cool Ocean! - On Sunday, Nov 21st at 6am, I flew to Hawaii with my family for thanksgiving!

I'm pretty sure I have the distinction of being the first person to throw up in the newly dedicated Hawaii temple. The honor is mine, really.

I want to know who doesn't feel like this when standing in front of forsythia?

New Job! - Monday the 29th of November, I started my new job! We arrived home from Hawaii that same morning at about 2am, I slept for 4 hours and then got up to start my first day!

This is really the reason I am posting today. My new job is actually a JOB, it turns out. I am busy from the moment I sit down until 9-10 hours later when I finally pry my sweaty wrists from the formica desktop. This is very disappointing for me because it takes away from my usual job-type activities like: checking my email, IMing with friends, watching the occasional tv show on hulu, arranging my life via google docs...and blogging. Yes, blogging. It turns out, if I don't have time to do it at work, I don't really want to do it. Just so you know, I'm going to try to keep it up, but my goal is somewhat diminished. My new goal is once a month.

----

It seems like my life is crazy and stressful but I guess that's part of being alive! ...and that er... keeps me alive.

part 21 of 365

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 21: Family History

Ok, yesterday was one of the best days of my life. Nope... no job yet. And nope, I'm not talking about the huge victory at the polls for republicans. It's a different kind of 'best'. The source of this jubilation lies behind reason number 31 that I am an old lady: I love family history. But let me tell you, this is not your gramma's shoe box of pictures-family group sheet-Gedcom file-searching for film in the BYU library-Family History (not that I have anything against that). This family history involves cloak and dagger research skills, breaking laws, battling stickers in your socks, hiking for 30 minutes in unknown territory, and driving for 6 or more hours for hands on discovery.

Tour de Fort

Here are the basics: I have an ancestor who started the tiny bustling town of Hamilton Fort, UT just south of Cedar City. Online, it says he was buried there in Hamilton Fort but as I talked with relatives about it, no one was really sure where the cemetery was or if it even existed anymore. I was directed to a hand-drawn map by a great-uncle years and years previous. This map showed I-15 and highway 91 and a basic location of the cemetery in relation to those landmarks.

My sister and I packed our gps and water bottles and headed down to cedar city for the day to check it out. Wire fences surrounded the general area we thought the location should be and inside those fences, a saw mill. After hiking along a wash and climbing over and under 2 different fences, we spotted a small picket-fenced area. The closer we got to it, the more we allowed ourselves to believe this is exactly what we were seeking!

Inside the fence were about 9 grave areas. Some of the headstones were in quite good shape considering they were about 150 years old. All of the legible stones bore the name of Hamilton.

Suddenly my sister wasn't complaining so much about the legality of the trespassing we were doing. "Let the cops come!" we announced to the sky, "Any fine is worth this!"

We made sure to take our time documenting the location and contents of each headstone. Then, soaking in revelry, we started the 20 min walk back. Even the jack rabbit and deer we saw bouncing around us seemed to be celebrating. I hope so, because we're trusting them that they won't tell on us.

part 20 of 365

Things that no longer keep Melissa alive

Part 20: BYU Football

Oh hi. Has it been a month already? It's amazing how times flies when you're not doing anything of substance....

Lest you be offended that I haven't taken the time to blog, consider this for a moment: I have only watched one BYU football game this year. And that wasn't even the whole thing. I know, CrAzY!

Actually, most of you are probably saying the same thing with the kind of season they are having. You're thinking that I'm one of those fair weather fans. But, my history would show I am kind of the opposite, really.

For proof, I would direct you to:

• The BYU trading cards I collected in 6th grade from the D.A.R.E. program.
• There's also that time in 7th grade that my next door neighbor and I rode the UTA down to BYU to attend a football practice and get such autographs as: Eric Drage, Derwin Gray, and Ty Detmer. How many of you remember Derwin Gray?.. I rest my case. He is still my all-time favorite byu football player. If you don't know who Ty Detmer is you shouldn't even be reading this post.
• I had every season's schedule poster hanging in my room.
• I bought Ty Detmer's autobiography that he wrote right after he left BYU.
• I drew picture after picture of byu football players (including the one of Ty Detmer above).
• I made deals with God that if BYU could just win this one game against Utah that it would be ok if I never found my cat, Cougar that went missing.
• I named my black cat: Cougar.

I was reminded about my dying love this morning as I remembered one halloween when I was about 12 that BYU played Colorado State on Halloween night. I could not choose between the two events so I put on my costume over a radio headset and listened to the game while walking around the neighborhood holding a pillowcase and saying 'Trick or Treat' quite a bit louder than was necessary.

I ate, slept, breathed and vomited byu football from about the ages of 8-21. I add vomit in there because byu football games often gave me headaches which got so bad they would make me vomit.

My parent's coping mechanism for me was this: the moment a game made me cry, it was turned off.

Over the years, I developed my own coping mechanisms:

• The machete anger release. After a particularly bad game, I would take my dad's machete and head out back to vent my frustrations on the dying corn stalks.
• Watch with other (normal) people. This would encourage me to control my anger a little more.
• Don't watch at all. That's where this season comes in. Utah, anyone?

things learned from Mozzie

Not this Mozzie:

This Mozzie:

I am not referring to the quirky side-kick on the USA network show, White Collar. I am referring to the newest member of my family that I named after said TV show character.

I found Mozzie here on my search for fall leaves:

I have always wanted a horned lizard as a pet, let's just get that out in the open right now. So hiking along this trail and seeing dozens of Mozzie's running around at my feet was a dream come true.

Some ways I have discovered that I am like Mozzie:

• I, too, must be cold blooded because I, too, need a heat rock at the bottom of my bed every night to warm up my feet.
• I find that I can live on very little water, just like Mozzie
• I, too, can be hypnotized by a good back rub (ok... he likes belly rubs):

I know, I know.. he looks dead, but he's really just hypnotized by my huge finger rubbing his tiny belly.

And in the category of: Most startling realization I made about myself - The award goes to:

I will never sleep as a parent. The first day I had him, I looked up how to care for a horned lizard and read website after website that strongly urged not to try and care for a horned lizard because they are too delicate and complicated to care for.

So the first night I had him, I put some crickets in his cage and set it in the window sill by my bed. I lay there for hours anxiously worrying that he wouldn't even make it through the night.

I finally fell asleep and when I awoke early the next morning, I nervously peeked in the cage and to my joy saw him skittering around all lively. Two of the crickets were even gone! And the next morning another cricket was gone! Then... that day, as I cleaned my room, I found two tiny crickets bouncing around my shoes in my closet. The realization hit me that he was not eating the crickets afterall.. I can't even keep a lizard alive!

So today, I make the trip back up to buffalo peak to set him free. Maybe it really is better not to have a child then to be constantly worrying about one.

part 19 of 364

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 19: Facebook

Does anybody else have a love-hate relationship with facebook?

Loves:

• Being able to stalk a guy I'm interested in as far as his privacy settings will let me
• Reading minute by minute updates from all my facebook friends that I went to high school with but never really talked to who are sitting at home with their 6 children.
• I have 268 friends!
  
• When I have thoroughly checked all 3 of my email accounts then the next logical step is to kill time by reading everyone's statii (plural). Thank you facebook.
• That feature that allows you to de-tag yourself in any photo you choose. Why did it take me so long to discover that?
  

Hates:

• When someone doesn't use their facebook nearly as much as I do so it takes them 3 weeks to confirm my friend request. Meanwhile, I am left in agony wondering if they secretly hate me and it just took them 3 weeks to get up enough charity to add me.
• When facebook randomly decides not to notify me of life or death messages I have been waiting for.
  
• Farmville. And every other 'ville (except Springville... I mean, it's Art City!)
  
• The pressure to have every word I type on facebook be the height of wittiness. So instead, I type nothing.
• That you can't "appear" offline on facebook but still see everyone else that is online. Gmail totally lets you do that (next blog post: Why Gmail Keeps Me Alive and is Better than Facebook).

Today I saw an article on MSN: Facebook users are jerks, another study confirms.

Apparently studies show that "Facebook users are either totally conceited or serious self-haters." To which I say: Hey! I resemble that! Are they saying that no rational middle-of-the-road individuals are on facebook? So: Grandma and My Mom, I guess. And maybe 2 people my age that I know of. Or it could be that the normal people are those ones I hate that only log in once a month.

Speaking of Hating: "hating Facebook is a popular topic on Facebook". I almost posted the link to this article on my facebook status, but then I'd just be shooting for popularity.

part 18 of 364

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 18: Air + Pillow = best $5 ever spent

Have I ever mentioned the words Headache, Neck, Spine, or Smash-my-head-with-a-cinder-block on here? Let me give you a hint: Yes, I have.

I have a spine that was not made to do somersaults, sit-ups or sit on airplanes. But to be fair, was anybody's spine made to sit on airplanes? Do any of you out there find airline seats comfy? I can't figure out if they were made for super short, or super tall people because no one with an average height has the head rest hit them in the right place. While I'm on the subject, is there someone we can petition about this? What if I sent out a massive email forwarding campaign where people could add their name to a list petitioning to make airline seats fit human bodies, instead of aliens? I wonder who we send such a petition to...

Anyway, back to the survival of Melissa on airplanes: A couple years ago I borrowed my friend Julie's blow-up neck pillow and immediately decided they are pointless to use as they were made. But, I was so desperate for something to ease my discomfort that I just shoved it behind my shoulder blades and gasped in disbelief. I was comfortable! I found that if I don't blow it up all the way, it can be used more universally like on my lower back if I prefer, or wherever. I've even sat on it before when my sit bones were feeling airline-seat bruised.

It took me a while to realize that if it's great on airplanes, it's stupendous on a long car ride! But what about those foreign hotels that think a 1/4 inch slab of fluff = a pillow for a bed? No problem! Blow up the neck pillow as high or low as you need to make the tortilla pillow just the right height for your neck and shoulders. Then stick it underneath!

Forget Obama's health care plan. I'm trusting my well-being to my $5 velveteen neck pillow. Don't leave home without it!

the font of my mind

I've had fonts on my mind lately. I think it's because of my trip to California last week, and I'll explain why a bit later.

Have you ever noticed the font trends? Like clothing, fonts go through trends, as well. I think the first time I realized that the font world consisted of more than Times New Roman was in High School. Enter Comic Sans.


Every time I see this font, I think of my 10th and 11th grade math class. My teacher had apparently just discovered the fonts in wordperfect and decided that this was her favorite. She used Comic Sans on every math test, disclosure document, and bulletin board item. She must have been a trend setter because I then saw Comic Sans everywhere.

By now, the trend has mostly passed. The one exception is the lower grade school teacher (who I believe the font was made for anyway).

_____________________

Follow me to college in the late 90's and early 2000's when every wedding invitation used Papyrus:


This font was so overused in fact, that people began making fun of it

But, can you blame people for liking it? Wouldn't you feel more important receiving an invitation that looked like it was from the emperor of Rome?

_____________________

Enter the 2000's, and the stay-at-home-mormon-mother-photographer-and-blogger phase. Does this look familiar?


That's right: Scriptina. It started showing up EVERYWHERE. And I mean that. Blogs, wedding invitations (the new papyrus), billboards, company logos, and just basically anything that you wanted to attach heartfelt meaning to. It's still around, sadly. Because once you design permanently in Scriptina, you are stuck with a logo that is so heartfelt that no one can actually read it.

_____________________

I'd like now, to submit to you the future trendy font. As we know, California trends trickle west.

Let me introduce you to Copperplate Gothic Bold. Every grocery store in California had a store front that looked like this:


I even saw road signs in this font. I suppose that it could be that this font trend will stay isolated to the middle California coastal region but my bet is that we will eventually see it in the highly font-trendy Utah region. And with your help, we can make it happen. Copperplate Gothic Bold: First California, then Utah... Then THE WORLD!

part 17 of 364

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 17: things that help Melissa sleep

Laying awake at night counting my breaths has become more of a habit than I'd like believe but there are a slew of little tricks I've learned that seem to help. One of them might include pretending I'm Meg Ryan. But I've recently learned that her forehead is really tall and flat compared to mine, so now I don't know.

Today, when I logged into my work computer and my MSN started up, one of the articles that came up was about weird sleeping tricks to try. Here are the things they recommend:

1- Sing yourself a lullaby. I do this! I always sing I Know that My Redeemer Lives for some reason. I think because it's one of the more boring hymns to me. But, if I'm going for boring then I should definitely try The Spirit of God.

2- Rock yourself to sleep. I don't necessarily rock myself but I do two things that are similar: A) I rub my feet together. B) I also play guitar and that almost always makes me sleepy.

3- Curl your toes. I do this too! I had heard that flexing your feet, toes and other extremities and then relaxing them can improve blood flow and relax you.

4- Tidy your bed before jumping in. I don't usually make my bed too nicely in the morning. Just throw the covers closed so no spiders jump in. But, before bed I have to actually pull the covers tight and make the bed. Then I fold the covers back diagonally and climb into the cool, crisp, tidiness.

5- Write in your journal. I find that when my mind won't stop working at night, if I pull my journal out and write about something completely different then it helps me relax and stop thinking about what I was stressing about. Recently, I have been writing about each member of my family. The basics of their life and my favorite things about them. I just finished Rob's family. Now I will move on to Ken, Jen and their family. This way I kill two birds with one stone (family history, and sleeplessness)

6- Melatonin. According to the article, cherries have melatonin in them. I didn't know that. But for years I have had a bottle of melatonin supplements that I will take every so often to help me sleep.

7- Place a light weight on top of you. I now understand why I love to sleep with a rice bag. I use it in the winter to warm up my feet, but I have gotten into the habit of moving the rice bag to by sternum once my feet are warm. The weight on my sternum is just comforting and helps me fall asleep. I've also noticed that when I have a headache and I lay in bed on my back with the hot rice bag on my forehead, that it tends to put me to sleep. It has to be the weight!

I was shocked to realize that I do all of their weird tricks from time to time. (though not every single trick every night... good gracious). I also have some weird tricks that they don't mention. But, what do you do? Or are you one of those lucky individuals that never has a problem falling asleep.

Dale Carnegie said that no one dies from lack of sleep, but I swear my ability to sleep keeps me alive.

part 16 of 364

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 16: the hike

Most everyone out there knows about my headaches. They are still much of a mystery to me in how they hurt, where they are located and when they decide to arrive. But there is one conclusion I have made: My shoulders like to work. When they do, my head is generally happy.

So I try to take long enough hikes that require me to carry a backpack. And then offer to carry everyone's water. 2 weeks ago, Jon, Katie, Jenny Jo and I hiked from Big Springs over to Rock Canyon. That is probably the longest hike I've ever been on and by the end my shoulders were so tired...but oh so happy. There were also some pretty spectacular views from the top.

It's possible walter's feet hurt worse than mine by the end

Depression terraces

This last saturday, I went on another hike with my friend Catherine. We decided to explore the Oquirrh mountains above Kennecott. It afforded some pretty spectacular views of the mine and of Catherine.

Catherine in her element: Texting.

Working my shoulders keeps my headaches at bay and that keeps me alive! ~Now: what do I do when winter comes?

farewell: the suit

I regained my faith in mankind a few weeks ago. Then, just that quickly, I lost it again last night. Let me 'splain:

1) By mankind, I am actually not including women here. Just Men...or "Man"... or, more accurately: Boys.

2) It's one of those faiths that you don't realize you've lost until you find it again. Do you ever have that happen?

All clear? Ok, let me go back a bit farther.

The Provo Temple has been closed for the last 6 weeks. A few weeks ago, I was standing at one of the front positions late in the evening. During the half hour I was standing there, one amazing suit after another walked by me, exiting the temple. Not just nice or expensive suits. But a variety of stripes, cottons, tans, baby blues and grays and all perfectly fitting and straight-legged. Said suits left me amazed and a reunited with my ancient belief that man can dress himself; and do it well, if he has to. It also left me feeling a little guilty for checking out many a well-dress-behind as it walked away from me in the temple.

Last night I settled into the same position at the temple; anxious for my favorite show to begin. But to my disappointment, only ONE nicely tailored, brown cotton suit walked by me the entire 30 mins. Upon further mental evaluation, I realized that the Provo Temple is now open. Do you know what this means?

This means the nice suits have always been around. But they are only in the Provo Temple district. What else is in the Provo Temple district? yes: BYU. What does this mean, you ask? It means I am still attracted to 22-24 year old boys. yes: BOYS. How do I adjust my tastes so that I'm actually attracted to guys my age? I better start liking braided belts. Fast.

3 things very dull

Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been waiting for something exciting or brilliant to write about. But who knows when that will ever happen - so instead, I propose a game. You may submit 'either one thing very clever...two things moderately clever...or three things very dull indeed.'

Well I need not be uneasy; as long as I am allowed 3 dull things. And here are the dull happenings of my last couple weeks:

It's so clean and shiny!
A week ago, I was walking into the front doors of my work and heard this clunk on the windows above me and a bird landed at my feet. Now this is not the first time I've seen birds posed like this outside these doors:
But, this was the first time it happened right in front of me! When I looked down, it was a hummingbird and it was still moving a little bit so I bent down (because, hey, I've never touched a hummingbird before) and I pet him a little bit until he stopped moving. Poor li'l fella. Is it gross that I touched him? ...But he was still alive! The next time I walked in that building there was different dead bird, but this time I didn't touch him. I want to make a large sign and post it on those super shiny windows: "Danger!... it may look like trees and sky to you but it's not!"

I am not what I buy...but I want to be
I went to Texas this last weekend and while there we stopped by Hobby Lobby and I found my bedside table! Something about the curve of its build appealed to me. It didn't occur to me until a few days later that I'm drawn to it because I want to live through it. Me, a flat two-by-four, can almost be made curvy just by looking at this thing night and morning.

It also has drawers that easily hold my cell phone at night, of which I am envious. Jeans these days make me look like I'm packing a revolver when I have my cell phone crammed in there.

reason #25 that I am an old lady
I started drinking Ensure. I'm unsure how long this is going to last - my breath smells like an old-folks home for 3 hours after I drink it.

My grandma was recently moved to a different care center and as I walked in yesterday I thought: Wow, my Ensure breath is so powerful, it has contaminated this whole building!

Ok, maybe one day I'll have something clever to say.

part 15 of 364

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 15: A listening ear

For those of you who only know me from high school (probably nobody) then you might be shocked to know I like to talk. The rest of you probably already knew this and have already closed your computers at the prospect of hearing (reading) me prattle away yet some more.

I have discovered over the years that my talking through things isn't just enjoyable for me, but also serves a problem solving functionality. You don't even need to tell me the solution to my problem, but just me talking it out in your direction usually guides me to my own answer.

For example: many, many times I have IMed my boss in frustration about some sort of programming mayhem I am caught in and can't seem to fix. Every time, I either come up with the solution myself soon after, or it just magically starts working all on its own. The magic (I believe) is just in expressing my frustration.

I noticed Jeff experienced this same phenomenon a couple of blog posts ago. I do believe his solution was given in a comment... So sometimes the solution is right in front of us and we just need someone to point the way! I think I will try jumping on the magical tell-the-blogging-world-your-problems train and see what happens.

Here Goes: For 2 years now, my car has been dying on me at random inopportune times. I have taken it to shop after shop and no one can seem to diagnose it for me. Myriads of cables, sensors, motors and thingys have been tested, cleaned, replaced and prayed over. Nothing ever tests bad, and if we try replacing something it doesn't solve the problem. 2 summers ago, I tried putting higher grade gas in (though my shop said that shouldn't matter) and driving it on the freeway every 2 weeks and the problem went almost clean away. I think it died 4 times in the next 2 years. That's a heck lot better than 4 times a day. I figured I could live with that, but then 2 weeks ago, it started dying again.. but worse than ever! It would sometimes die 10-15 times just in one day. I started to get really good at driving my automatic car like a stick shift: Neutral, Restart, Drive, Stop, Die, Neutral, Restart, Drive...etc.

So I've been taking it to shops again, hoping someone would be able to find the problem now. But still nothing. No one can get it to die for them (of course) and nothing ever tests bad on the car.

I, of course, have had myriads of theories that I (of course) discover online. The mechanics always scoff at my naive attempts to diagnose my car. But what to do? They refuse to actually prove me right or wrong and in the end, I pay them $80 for a shoulder shrug.

I woke up with my latest theory at 5am this morning and looked it up... so of course, now I am convinced that my problem is the fuel pump. But what do you think? What should I do?

...ok, magic... do your thing. Fix my car, already.

And while you're at it, can you solve the mystery of the missing husband?

all about me

Do you remember that journal everyone had as a kid? It was called "all about me" and had an orange spine with ballet slippers on the front? (I can't find it to show you online, which surprises me because I think EVERYONE had one). It had my favorite color (green), tv actor (harry morgan), and food (mexican) listed in it. That made it All About Me.

My work paid for us to go to the "Get Motivated" conference at the energy solutions arena on Wednesday. Here is the number one thing they stressed about motivation getting:

"Today is all about you, so invest in yourself"

This made me feel so much better about being selfish! I always thought that putting myself first felt good and now I know why! I decided to invest in myself by paying $10 for parking for the event and going to Zupa's instead of Mcdonald's for lunch. But, I think they were hoping I would invest in myself by running toward them with my credit card in my outstretched hand.

The meeting began with us waiting for it to start and listening to motivational music like eye of the tiger and man in the mirror with a graphic of a man crossing a finish line spinning in circles in front of us. The rest of the meeting can best be described as General Conference without the gospel. But, wait! Did I say there was no religion at this conference? Not at all! Right before lunch, Tamara (the creator of the conference) gave us her Jesus Rap, in which she said that all we have to do is accept Jesus and we're saved immediately! Close.... but so far. Dear Tamara: Where did Jesus say to make it all about me?

It also reminded me of that quote from The Princess Bride: "Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."

It's a good thing that Wesley's words were there in my mind to help me recognize a sales pitch. Drop. Your. Sword.

part 14 of 364

Things that keep Melissa alive

Part 14: being liked
I have to admit, I can't stand it when I think someone doesn't like me. But that is not the point of this post. The point of this post (along with 50% of my posts whether you realize it or not) is that I'm single. Yes. Yes, I am. And every once in a while, I get to thinking why it is that no guys like me. I have documented to you my attempts to become more visually appealing to guys over the years. I have even attempted some you don't know about yet (wearing eyeliner...now you know). But none of those seem to make any sort of difference in their interest level.

When I get in those "no boys like me" funks, I usually try to think of boys that do (because there have been a few). There's that one kid in first grade that kissed me while we were writing at our desks. There was the guy after my mission that I broke his heart so bad that he got married 3 months later. There's even a current "hoverer" that I try to avoid as delicately as possible.

So there you have it. There are guys that like me. This last year has also brought out a new breed of guys that like me. These are ldslinkup guys who profess their undying love in the first feeler message they send out. The only problem: All of these guys are currently somewhere in Africa. I have received countless messages from these guys over the last year. Here is a sampling of the ones I have received in just one week:

"Hello , how are you doing today?
Am good, checked out your profile and am impressed-please can we talk more? By the way, i like your smile too :-)"

"Can we chat dear? I can see yoou are on line
my yahoo Id is *******@yahoo.com
Can Add me now"

"How YOU doin?"

"Hi how are you?its nice to see your beautiful pic.very cute eyes.i am making new lds friends.
what is your name?my name is *****"

"Hi
So nice picture, happy will be the man who will win your heart, I hope he will see the great lucky be with you each day... I would like to know you I hope you like meet new people"

Sadly, none of these include the classic petition I generally receive to be their african princess but I will be sure to post one when I get it.

My other friends on ldslinkup never get the African guys after them, which brought me to the conclusion that I am hotter than my friends. (Or it could just be because I have my mission listed as South Africa) So, when I really think about it, I determine that the whole world likes me! And that knowledge keeps me alive.

Now, which one should I marry?