I have the attention span of an 8 year boy with ADHD...

When I was little I remember sitting on the family room floor for hours listening to all the grow-ups talk about spiritual things.  If I made a peep I was banished to the basement.  I would just sit there and trace the pattern in my grandma's carpet...over and over and over again.  In church I could entertain myself with just my moms ring or the hymn book.

I'm afraid the good ol' days are gone.  Ever since I came to college I have a problem paying attention during spiritual discussions.  This was especially noticeable at ward prayer in the singles ward...or FHE.  I'll show you what I mean. 

 Yes...my idea of a spiritual thought is read a verse or quote (never both) and give a 10 second testimony.  But I found myself sitting through a full on talk instead.

And now I have issues with Sacrament Meeting.  More now that I have a big brawny shoulder to lean against. 

 

Almost every week I take a snoozer.  The only way I can stay awake and pay attention is if I have my little book to draw in.  I told you I was 8 years old.

On a more serious note...most of the time I get uncomfortable during spiritual situations.  And it's not because I don't have a testimony.  It's taken me a while to figure this out...I think it's because I get uncomfortable sharing something that means so much to me.  It feels very personal.  So when other people unveil their souls about such things I just get squirmy.  Don't get me wrong I could listen to people talk about world peace, their emotional issues and other deep things, for hours.  Just gospel related things make me a little on edge.

Sometimes I wonder if people act the way they do for show.  I noticed in my singles ward that return sister missionaries squint their eyes when they talk about spiritual things and get on this particularly holy voice.  Not all, just some.  And it made my gag reflex act up a little.  This all sounds horrible and I can't believe I'm admitting it.  I know I'm wicked.

My solution in these times of wondering if people are fake and feeling uncomfortable in a large group of devout saints?  I always have to remind myself it doesn't matter, the gospel is for me.  I need to focus on me and my simple testimony (simple not small).  Don't worry about the congregations just whats between Heavenly Father and my heart.  

PS I apologize for sounding judgy.  Honestly I wish I could be more like the people who make me fidgety...I just can't.  Not right now anyway.  I'm too worried about getting myself to stay awake through sacrament meeting. 

I got the chop...

Well actually my hair got the chop.  Let me start out by saying, all growing up I got called the short haired twin.  People would say this and all I would hear is..."You are the twin that looks like a boy. You ugly munchkin you."  Because of this I have worked very hard to keep my hair long and just the other day I though, "Well, Melani you're hair is looking pretty good.  Good thing you are such a sexy long haired fiend."  All of that changed my friends.

The other day Chris and I decided to take advantage of my mother's clippers and cut Chris' hair.  So a cutting I went.  Chris's (or is it Chris'...I never know) hair turned out pretty good.  So I thought, "I cut Chris's (I'm just going to do it this way, deal with it you grammar Nazis) hair, I'll have him cut my hair."

Now just to preface this, Chris has trimmed my hair before...in the shower...with the cooking shears (Sounds like the game of Clue).  We're pretty fancy.  And it turned out pretty good. So I thought no big deal.  Well after a little while of cutting I heard Chis say, "This might be a little short."  I'm thinking, "Oh he cut off two inches instead of one."  "Its fine Chris just keep going," I say.  Obviously I'm not that picky, see a fore mentioned shower incident.  

Well I look down and there on the floor are some very lengthy bits of my wet hair.  At this point I started to freak out.  "Wow that is short!"  I felt for my hair.  Usually I can reach my arm around my back and grab some...but I couldn't reach my hand up far enough to get any.  "Its really short!"  "I know, that's what I told you", Chris reminded me.

Well about an hour later and a few more shocked exclamations the deed was done.  I was pretty much over it.  I said to Chris, "Well I didn't freak out that bad. You are very lucky."  To which he replied, "Ya, you only showed everyone in the house and measured how much I cut off with a ruler." I did do that thing.

Guess what the ruler told me...6 and a half inches...that's how much of me I lost that day.  But I'm glad it was Chris and not some one else.  He's cute enough that I wasn't too upset. 

Look how pretty.  Look how nice. It was beautiful (tears).

I was going to show you a delightful picture of what my hair looks like now...but my camera has turned rouge on me and will not obey my commands. I will post one later. 

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an entry that smacks a bit of cynicism

Here is an update for those who asked how DC life is treating me.  (Mostly Janet and Sydnee)

Boys:  The boy situation is...interesting. I still find I struggle with the wonderful form of communication that is flirting.  I am currently a step above friendly conversation, but have not quite reached actual flirting.  This is a leap from where I used to be...ignoring and insulting the boys I found attractive.  Without further ado let me introduce to you some of the boys in my life.  There is a moppy haired yet adorable teacher.  A surprisingly attractive counselor.  An overly flirtatious red-head.  And the a boy who leaves me mystified and frustrated on a daily basis.  Well there you have it; a sparse accounting of my dealings with the opposite sex.  I wish it was more exciting and not just for your reading pleasure, but also for my own selfish pleasures.

Weather:  The weather here is muggy and reminds one of purgatory.  I find it best to stay within ten feet of an air conditioner.  And while the surroundings are quite lovely and green, I miss the open perspective mountains can afford.

Living Conditions:  I presently reside in a quiet little neighborhood, in a quiet little house that is adorned in pretty little figurines of dogs.  These belong to the lady of the house, my landlord of sorts.  My bedroom, I share with another person, until our roommate decides where she would like to live, at which point I shall inherit my own room.  The kitchen is shared.  And I find at the front door, the smell of the dog who lives in the house, seems to linger.

Social Interactions:  I spend my time with a dear friend and her boyfriend.  They are a lovely couple.  However one does tire of hearing tender whispers, and the rubbings of passionate hugs and the sound of delicate kisses.  Sitting in the next room with no one to talk to, twiddling my thumbs, while these events take place is a little...shall we say horrifying?  Being the third wheel has almost become second nature to me.  Before things became mystifying and frustrating with the boy whom I spoke of earlier, I would spend many hours with him.  Now that these new and uncomfortable circumstances with him have arisen, I find my social circle has shrunk significantly.

Jobs:  I enjoyed the euphoria of a temp job that required little to no work with a ridiculously glorious pay rate.  I had four beautifully boring days.  And now I am looking for employment again.  I feel as if I am trying to force my way into someone's slightly snobby Virginia home, so I can become a nanny for them.  I exaggerate,  but trying to convince people that they would like to hire me, has never been one of my strong points. (Neither has the proper use of commas)

I feel like the clock is ticking on my financial stability.  A job is becoming more and more imperative.  And the temptation to throw everything in my car and drive home is looming over my head.  It seems depressing to stay here, but anywhere else I can think of sounds just a little bit more depressing.  My life is a large question mark.  A collection of quandaries. A menagerie of riddles I have yet to solve. 

Well adieu dear whoever...And good evening.

100. Parallel Parking on the first try

This website inspired me to create a lovely list I like to call, 100 Delightful Things.  Their list was 1000 Awesome things, but I think I'll dream a little more humbly. 100 Things is a good start.  And "Awesome" is so eighties, hence I shall say "Delightful". 

So we begin:

Ahaha...hem (clearing throat)

The 100th Delightful Thing:  Parallel Parking on the first try.

Heaven knows I am quite the flamboyant driver.  I might have hit a couple cars, a stop sign, a mail box, a tree, several curbs and a pole in my day.  And although the list of things you've hit may not be as lengthy or as prestigious as mine, you have probably had your own driving issues.  So there is nothing more satisfying than parallel parking on the first try.

You're with a couple buddies, and nonchalantly you say, "Oh.  Here's a spot." as you pull up to a small opening on the street. 

Your friends become nervous, they know the hazards involved in parallel parking just as well as you do.  You may hit the curb or the cars you are trying to sandwich in between.  And even worse, you could move your car's hind quarters back and forth a few zillion times while trying to line up properly.  Meanwhile, 20 Joe Schmoes on their way to work are watching your progress and waiting behind you.

But none of this happens...You just slip on in...first try.  Your friends are surprised.  They say something like, "Wow good job, I'm terrible at parallel parking."  And what do you do?  You just shrug your shoulders like its no big deal.  But inside you feel...

Delightful.

I'm in Pagety Page...

Page is more interesting and exciting than I had expected.  It has some incredible things to see like this: 

Isn't that amazing!  And when you see this view you are standing on the edge of this dodgy little cliff.  Apparently, a couple of weeks ago, someone fell from the cliff and died.  Creepy, but it sort of adds to the whole experience.  

One of the times I was in Page Mandi and Ben informed me they would be celebrating "Melan Days."  Don't worry, this is just a celebration for your truly, MELANI.  No big deal...actually it is a big deal...I mean, I'm a big deal.  

So when I arrived in Page I saw these little melons just waiting to be carved into my likeness.  Unfortunately Ben was unable to help, but Mandi and I created some Melons that looked just like me.  See! 

Try not to be too jealous of my beauty.  

Mandi and I may or may not have re-enacted the part in the scriptures when Captain Moroni chops off that guys scalp. 

Whilst in Page Mandi and I had a little fun at the local Walmart.  We found our stuffed animal equivalents. 

Blaik even got a little cuddle time with our stuffed twins.  Well I guess twins of the twins. 

I also got some photos with my favorite peeps.  (I almost wrote poops...oops) 

I'm on my way to Pagety Page

Sometimes I go and visit three of my favorite people cuz "sometimes people miss people."  These people live in a desolate place called Page.  Here they are...

Medium Bob:

Little Bob:

and Tiny Bob (look! He's waving):

On such trips I arm myself with the following essentials.  Semi-healthy snacks.  That beef jerky was potent!

Water and some Sprite for a real kick...and most importantly the NoDoze off to the side. (Without it I fall asleep after 20 minutes in the car.)

My Ipod, my phone and my traveling companion: Tablay.  Pronounced Taw-blay

He's the adorable little lawn gnome with the bashful eyes.

And my other traveling companion Jack.  Sometimes he stares creepily at the person in the passenger seat.  He's not trying to be creepy, just friendly.  

Last thing to do is to check out my face in the mirror (I do this often...don't judge) and I'm on my way. 

I just love this drive for several reasons. 1. I'm alone so I can sing as loud as I want. I almost lost my voice trying to hit that high note in Phantom of the Opera.  All I managed to do was summon all the dogs for miles around with my airy almost inaudible high note.  2.  I'm alone so no one makes fun of my driving.  3.  I'm alone so I can drive as fast as I want.  4. There are all these dodgy, interesting towns along the way.  5.  The roads aren't crowded so you don't have to weave through traffic. And 6. I have six hours all to myself...