bragging rights.

well here's a post I made a month ago, slightly updated, that I forgot to post

two of my noted summer agenda items come with bragging rights.

first-- SB.  Sculpted 50+ animals for our float.  Have a looksie.  Pretty awesome.  Super big thanks to everyone who helped in the process: sanding, mudding, sanding again, base coat painting.  But biggest thanks to the sculptor who makes it look so easy.  When they asked me to take on this float everyone said there were two things I needed to worry about most immediately.  Finding a warehouse and finding a sculptor.  The warehouse took a little work and was a blessing for sure.  The sculptor, my life's biggest blessing anyhow, was a piece of cake.

On another note.  S. Powell.  I don't have much to say on this blog about it all right now.  I thought for sure they had found her on my birthday... and as Liz McN caught on, it seemed like a bit weird, or perhaps like the stars were aligned.  Nevertheless I trust the dogs.  Not saying it's Susan, just saying I believe the dogs.  And the other S. Powell, Steve = creep.  Oh boy.  As far as bragging rights go?...  Emily Florez of Channel 2 news and I go back a bit.  She got to go down and search in Ely.  I am always beggin' SB to take me  to the west desert and let me find Susan.  And Emily came so close.  I prefer to call her Mac... or if I'm really feeling chummy, I call her Feliz.  She prefers it, I promise.  So if you ever meet her, call her Feliz.  But anyway, bragging rights that I know her, right..  And thanks to my bcf I found my favorite-ever youtube video.  Enjoy.  Even if this video's not your fave, she will be once you meet her.  If you don't believe me, ask Cathy Olsen.  The rest of the world pales in comparison to sweet Em.

oh how the days go by.

SB had to go back to work today.  I know for most of humanity 2 weeks is a lot of time off.  In our world, he gets the whole summer.  That's the beauty of being a teacher.  I respect and love teachers.  Good ones, at least-- of which SB is.  But I do not pity them at all.  Summers off.  Weekends off.  Holidays off.  Nights off.  Prep periods off.  Assemblies, games, in-services = off.  My business is a revolving 24/7 door that doesn't even rest on Christmas Day.  I love my job and don't complain-- but I just vote teachers ought not complain, either.  We pick our paths, right? 

But it's not SB complaining anyhow, it's me.  I love our life when we hang out together for weeks on end.  This summer went by way too fast.  Apparently I never even changed my blog header from "Spring Fever" and now autumn is knocking on the door.

Highlights I intend to cover about this summer in the upcoming days:

-Harriet Anne.  Our daughter to be.

-The Bug's 3rd Birthday and all things dinosaurs.

-4 years going strong since we sealed the deal down at the Provo Temple. 

-The float.  Oh the float.  Munched our summer.  But is almost done.  (No, it didn't end with the Pioneer days parade.  When you are in charge of building a float you are in charge of unbuilding the  float.  We are close, but not there yet).

-School= 4.0.  Not too shabby after years off of academia.  One semester wasn't too bad.  10 more years is a bit daunting still.  But it's still my plan most days.

-The search for Susan P.   I'm obsessed.

That's a good start.  Happy Summer.  It's good to be back.

speaking of projects.

I know I mentioned the float.

THE float.

The float that I had a year to figure out and make.  A year ago.

But now I have less than 2 months.

So I would like to divert your attention to:

www.parkstakefloat.blogspot.com

We don't have a lot going on yet.

But we will.

And you might not be in the Park West Jordan Stake.

But you're still invited to help.  After all, Matt spent an unhealthy amount of time on some other float last year.

And that's where you'll find me for the next couple of months.

If I get around to it I'll post here.  But if you start to miss me I suggest the link above.  I intend to put my time and energies into that blog for awhile.  And heaven only knows more than one blog might do me in.

post script.

SB says the last post didn't do the last month at our house justice.  I don't really feel like doing it justice.  It sounds tiring.  Which translates to boring for the rest of the world to read about.  But it's not to say I didn't like doing the projects.  But you have to live a project not read about it.

Nevertheless:

I forgot to mention all of his projects.

I forgot to mention that any project I take on consumes me.  Like takes over my life as tornado sweeping through and destroys all other plans and any attempt of neatness and organization.

I forgot to mention playing with this sweet lady.  I try to donate as much time to her as I do to the bug and the dinosaurs.

Little Louski risking strangulation, playing with the yellow cord that led to the BOB recall.

I forgot to mention that details are (extremely) important to me.  So even if I'm not working on the projects, I'm thinking about them.  Every last detail of them.

I forgot to mention that I sometimes don't feel satisfied until all of those details are executed.

I forgot to mention a dozen other (smaller) things we had going on.

I know everyone has a lot going on.  I just imagine that most people find a better balance than I do.  And prioritize blogging more than me.   But I think about blogging a lot and think of all the fun pictures I could have taken, all of the funny (at least to me) stories I could have told.  But that's my goal.  To take fun pictures.  Tell funny stories.  And get a good balance so that projects don't consume me.  Having said that, I like a good project with well thought out details.  I just hope to blog about it more someday.

And herein lies my biggest problem of all.  Every journal entry I ever wrote.  Every mission letter sent home.  Every love letter to SB.  And now even this blog post:  all promissory notes of 'more to come later.'  

Any how.  More to come later.

project people

SB & I are project people.
We like projects and find we never run shy on them.  Usually we rope each other into 'our' projects.  Maybe me doing a little more roping than SB.  But tasks are accepted as group projects in this household.

Sometimes other's projects become our own.  Like games and invites for wedding and baby showers.  Or bunco score cards.  Or announcements for stake dodge ball.

Those projects are quick and aren't a good reason to neglect my blog.  However, some other projects explain better why I still don't believe anything.  Just kidding, I do believe A LOT of things.  But I may never write about them because I sometimes get caught up in things like the following:

1. Promote the Vote week at Work-- the Hematology/Oncology Unit Awards.  You recall, the cupcakes?  ... as well as helping out with the hospital wide Nurse's Week.  AKA making 1600 truffle bar wrappers.  SB got me all of the Adobe programs for Christmas, including Illustrator.  Love it.  Just figuring things out, but I love it.  Also I have the full version of Photoshop... the real deal, no more elements.  So now Hailey and I can start our photography business.  Once I learn how to be a photographer.

They may not look like truffle bar wrappers.  But they are.

2.

 
The Amazing Race in Heber City, Italy.  SB's nephew went to prom and we were brainstorming ideas for the date activity.   His mom kept telling him don't you dare put this on Leslie.  SB kept telling me don't you dare take this away from Zach.  But Zach and I were both fine with me helping out.  And by helping out I might mean take the date into my own hands.  I know I gotta lay low as my kids grow up.  I DO NOT want to be a mom that's in everybody's business.  But I'm not going to lie.  I like my ideas and I like to be in charge (don't be mad that I said I like my ideas, I always have.  And I'm glad to run with other people's ideas, too.  I just like ideas, period, I guess.  Ideas are wonderful things in my opinion).  So I'll be working on taking a step back for the next 14 years-- between now and the time the bug starts planning his big dates.  However, I do think the amazing race with all 9 of it's legs in Heber, Italy turned out pretty good.  [the theme for prom was "When in Rome" so we went with an Italian theme.  I LOVE themes.  I once planned a whole mystery date because IKEA has a puzzle piece ice cube tray and I wanted to use them at a party.  The tray could only freeze 6 ice cubes at a time.   So for days I froze puzzle cubes and kept them in a ziplock bag.  The date was great.  (in my humble opinion).  We incorporated everything mystery we could come up with.  We held it at my mother-in-law's home an hour away.  I had boxes of things to haul up there.  I think about 30 people showed, I don't remember.  They competed in couples.  (I love competitions, too).  It all went as planned.  Except that I forgot the ziplock bag of puzzle piece ice cubes.  The whole reason I planned (months) for this date.  Typical].

3. HOLY COW!  Vote for Majerle.  (pronounced Marley.  As in Dan Majerle).  My cousin ran for Student Body Historian.  Of her Junior High.  Matt & I were the campaign managers.  Truth be told, Bonneville Jr. does not let you actually campaign. They let you hang up one poster for 2 days and make a portfolio that apparently counts for nothing.  Because MK had the best looking poster any teenager ever campaigned with.  Matt sculpted a cow out of foam for it.  And the portfolio should have won a college scholarship.  But 12 votes separated us from Jack Sprat, the winner.  You win some, you lose some.  But Majerle had our vote and has since accepted the position as the McN family historian.  We do way cooler things than BJHS anyhow. 

4.  Days of '47 Parade Float.  "Pressing Forward, Still Singing as We Go."   I don't know how this big world works sometimes, but almost a year ago I was put in charge of our stake's parade float.  An opportunity that comes to each stake once in 10 years.  I didn't even think the Stake Presidency knew who I was a year ago.  I don't know that they know me still.  But they asked me to man the position anyhow, and it turns out that April gives me just a couple of months before our first parade and so things are in full swing right now.   I am sure I will post more about this venture.  But for now satisfy it to say it's turning out to be quite the project.

5.  Dinosaurs.  I've been 'playing dinosaurs' a ton these days.  I don't even know how to play dinosaurs.  I told SB sometimes I feel like all we do all day is eat and fight with any variety of dinosaur characters and that I don't really know how to 'play dinosaurs.'  He told me "it's easy, you can do anything with dinosaurs-- just find things and make believe with them." Ok, I thought... I'll give it a try.  The next thing I saw was the Bug's leapster game case.  I put the dinosaur in it, and said to his dinosaur, in my best dino voice (which simply means I was talking a little deeper), the first thing that came to mind:  "I am going to go tanning, Little Foot."  (The case looked like either a tanning bed or a coffin-- which in real life are eerily similar to me anyhow.  And tanning seemed like the better thing to do than to put the dinosaur in the case and say "my dinosaur died," which is what I would like to do sometimes).  SB immediately said "you're right, you don't know how to play dinosaurs."  But I've been working on it.  We (we being the dinosaurs, the bug and I) drive a lot of monster trucks, still do a lot of eating and fighting, but also decide to be friends and have an ongoing search for our moms, our dads, and a pond.  A reenactment from Land Before Time, I believe.  I think my life would have been made simpler if I would have followed suit of my friend Amy and taught my kids there is no such things as dinosaurs.  But I'd have missed out on some pretty cool laughs with this kid, so bring on the extinct (or never existed in the first place if you're a Choate) reptiles...

As the projects slow down my intent is to really write what I believe.  But in the event it never happens, it's probably safe to assume we've taken on another project or two.  And the blog usually goes on the back burner.

Happy Easter. 
All creatures of our God and King
Lift up your voice and with us sing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
Thou silver moon with softer gleam!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in Heaven along,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice,
Ye lights of evening, find a voice!

Thou flowing water, pure and clear,
Make music for thy Lord to hear,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou fire so masterful and bright,
That givest man both warmth and light.

Dear mother earth, who day by day
Unfoldest blessings on our way,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
The flowers and fruits that in thee grow,
Let them His glory also show.
O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

(Love that song.  A favorite hymn for sure.  Probably will share a story about it when (if) I write my 'This I Believe' Statement.  And the song was an inspiration for the parade float we're building.  A choir (Mormon Tabernacle) full of animals.  Maybe it doesn't make sense.  But look for it this summer, you'll know it when you see it).



my follow up report.

I've never hated spiders.  In fact, when I was little (don't think I'm the worst daughter ever when I tell you this) I LOVED to find spiders.  I would catch them in a wad of toilet paper and run around my house chasing my mom who was SCREAMING at the top of her lungs, calling me all sorts or nasty names, until she might have used a swear or two.  Which was the whole point.  Because she gave us a dollar for every curse word.  But then she added an addendum to that rule:  if we were the one who caused the four letter word we couldn't collect on it.  So I stopped chasing her with spiders.  And I finally grew up a little.

However, I DON'T like black widows.  Luckily I haven't seen any in the couple of weeks since my last post.  Which I am sorry I left up for so long.  Well I mean, blog posts just stay-- but I didn't mean to leave my 10 person audience hanging on such a downer for 2 weeks.  Life's been pretty great ever since.  And besides, as much as I really was emotional to Matt that day, I really did think it was pretty funny.  And for sure far from the worst thing that could be going on.

In fact-- not to bring up more downer business-- but in my world of taking care of kids with cancer and hearing of truly worst case scenarios, I'd like to think it's given me a little perspective.  I sure hope so.  So bring on black widows and bad cupcakes and flu and a surgery for my dad (who finally got home on Monday, hurray!) -- I'll take those things.  But stay away disorders and diseases and disabilities and death.  I know, I know-- people find blessings in those things all the time.  But I'm a little weak and rather deal with arachnids and the rotavirus for now.

On a similar note, a lot of things have had me thinking lately.  About different things I believe.  I had a friend come over who is worried she is never going to get married.  I took care of a patient who passed away within hours after I left (nobody saw it coming).  I got to enjoy all of conference weekend.  I had another friend come over who got me talking about religion and the things I believe.  So.  My next post might be full of a lot of opinions.  But I am writing a "THIS I BELIEVE STATEMENT" on Love and Marriage, on Faith and God, on Death and Dying and on Life. And perhaps other things as they come to mind.  Pretty deep, right?

In the meantime, enjoy these faces.  It's what I plan to do with the rest of my Friday.  

  

"where are you luckier days?"...

... sung to the tune of:  where are you Christmas?


I made it over half way through my lucky count down.  I had big plans of making a list of seven other lucky things to make up for my countdown-absence... perhaps even back-dating the posts to make my posterity believe I'm on the ball.

But let me be real and honest and instead say that ever since the leprechaun left I've felt a little unlucky.

May I share seven (plus) unlucky things that are sure to shoo people away from me, my house, and my food.  But sometimes honesty is the best policy.  Probably not right now.  But I feel less than lucky today and I want to write about it.

-SB got the flu last week.  Only we thought it was food poisoning.  It was AWFUL.  Sick as I've ever seen my SB.  I wasn't very sympathetic.  I sometimes lack sympathy for something less than a kid with cancer.  I don't mean to.  But I wasn't worried about it being contagious, it was a bad bid at McDonalds.  He forgot to bless it.  I knew it was the chicken sandwich that did him in.

-Until both of my kids got the pukes.  Then I wondered.  But being the brilliant medical professional I am I somehow thought they were poisoned too.  SB from Mickey D's chicken  and my kids from a little uncooked turkey dog.  It could happen in one week, three food poisonings in one family, right?

-So in the meantime I proceed to sanitize and make 20 eclairs for the float committee and 120 cupcakes for all of my co-workers.  I take the eclairs to the parade meeting.  I take cupcakes to the hospital.  Within 24 hours I, too, am feeling sick.  I panic.  I start to wonder if I could have passed anything on through my cooking.   I google everything about the stomach "flu" and passing it on.  I read somewhere that one of the most common ways it gets passed is through contaminated yet non-symptomatic food handlers. I was ready to quit my job.  Truly.  I knew the cupcakes weren't bad in and of themselves (trust me I don't do raw and I don't do old expiration dates).  But why oh why oh why was I so sure I wasn't sick and wasn't going to get sick?!

-I call to work, my bosses, my friends, trying to find out the damage.  Only 5 employees down so far.  I am talking (bawling) to SB.  He thinks 5 out of 120 aren't bad odds.  And how do I know it was the cupcakes, he says.  BECAUSE THEY ALL ATE ONE!    I was just trying to do something nice for the people I work with.  Why am I such an idiot.  Why did I admit to people I was sick?  Why I am I publicly broadcasting it now? IDK is the answer.  But be glad if you didn't eat my defiled pastries.  Be even more glad if you did eat them but haven't suffered from severe vomiting and diarrhea like the 5 or so reported cases.

-Whatever, I am trying to get on with my day because Little Louski has her doctor check up and I have a favor to ask of my pediatrician.  But I never do because she stripped off her (poopy) diaper and he kindly took it out of the room for me and when he got back he tried to check my son's ears for me even though it wasn't his appointment-- but my Bug threw a tantrum and gave Dr. J a punch or two and a swift kick in the pants before I could wrestle him (literally) into a complete hold.  Needless to say, I asked no other favors.

-I'm over this day.  I have heaps of laundry due to 4 sick people over the span of 6 days but turns out I just used the last of the detergent and my kids are napping so I can't go get more.  Moving on to the clean the DISGUSTING kitchen only to find the disposal doesn't work with all the rotting food in it.  Whatever, I will clean something else.

-But the Bug gets out of bed to show me a spider. It's a black widow in my house.  He wants to touch him.  I tell him I have to kill it or it will kill him.  He says, "hold me so the little widow spidow won't kill me."   I call and talk (bawl) to SB again.  Remember that farmer that always says "maybe" when someone says how lucky or unlucky something is.  (see a few posts ago).  SB is like that farmer.  He's sure this isn't all as unlucky as it seems.  I am not as convinced.

-So, after 45 minutes of convincing George he can't watch what I am going to do to the spider (I don't want him to attempt whatever it is I decide to do to the spider even though I haven't worked out my attack plan yet) and after 45 more minutes of deciding how to get rid of the spider without making it mad and risking a bite myself, I finally have the situation under control.

-But my house only more so feels creepy and repulsive to me.  But before I go do anything about it I decided to let you all know the truth.  Even the lucky get unlucky on occasion.

- I am sitting here in my messy kitchen, looking at a black widow in a mason jar, surfing the net and reading how to get rid of the whole species, smelling rotten food that needs to be disposed, but is too gross for me to manually get rid of it.  (a job for SB) thinking of (barfed on) laundry every place and dreading hearing of one more cupcake eater calling in sick to the PCMC.

-Oh, and did I mention my mom left her work sick today with the same signs and symptoms of the stomach flu?.  My dad is scheduled for surgery on Thursday and was worried about our visit this past weekend. So my mom is trying not to vomit in front of him.  Awesome.

-So, dear, sweet, Mr. Saint Patrick... where are you?  And may I come join you? I feel a little awful and might need an escape to Ireland or wherever it is you reside.

-And if you can't work that out, could you send a little good fortune back my way?  I was working on LUCKY stories this month.


and for any and all readers who at one time considered coming over to my house:  I plan to disinfect, bug bomb, exterminate, clean, dispose, and serve only processed untouched foods from now on.  I promise.  So I hope you'll still pay me a visit sometime.

That's all for today.  I hope.
-Leslie.

3.10.12 Not feeling it.

Well, not feeling like writing today-- still feeling lucky, don't worry.

All I've got in me for today is short and sweet.   Really sweet.  SB wins a $50 giftcard from some drawing at his bank.  I win a $50 giftcard from some work thingy.  I don't even know what it was, they apparently entered all the employees at the PCMC.  And then told me I won.  It was effortless for me. 

But that's what I call sharing the financial burdens of the family and each of us doing our part. 

And I call it lucky.

Day Nine: The Farmer's Luck. From 'Zen Shorts'

When we were dating, SB came to work to visit me and brought me a picture book.  This one:

I think it is a very clever and cute book.  One little 'lesson' in it goes with my count down.  So here it is:

There was once an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day, his horse ran away.

Upon hearing this, his neighbors came to visit.  "Such bad luck" they said, sympathetically.

"Maybe," the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it two other wild horses.

"Such good luck!" the neighbors explained.

"Maybe," replied the farmer.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown off, and broke his leg.  Again, the neighbors came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. 

"Such bad luck," they said.

"Maybe," answered the farmer.

The day after that military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army to fight in a war.  Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by.

"Such good luck!" cried the neighbors.

"Maybe," said the farmer.

"I get it," said Michael.  "Maybe good luck and bad luck are all mixed up.  You never know what will happen next."

"Yes," Stillwater agreed.  "You never know."

That's all.  Who knows if I'm lucky or not.  But good luck/bad luck to you anyhow. 

Day 8. Still Lucky.

This is me and the little brother at K. Malone's, aka the Mailman's, basketball camp.  

Never was there a happier little 5th grader.  I went a whole year without candy to earn the right to go to this big event in my life.  

The camp actually isn't the lucky part of this post.  Though I felt pretty lucky seems as though I was 100% convinced I was Karl's betrothed, and though you can't see it- he's got his arm around me... I really believed we were more than just friends the day this picture was taken.  You'll note I did my hair in curls just for Mr. Malone, even though I was sweating and trying to show off my mad b-ball skills to the all-star NBA pro. 

When I went back to school after that summer, I even turned in my papers in school as "Leslie Jean Malone."  My 'reflections' contest entry was "If I had a dream... I'd be the first woman in the NBA" and it was a picture of me in a Jazz jersey center court of the then Salt Palace-- wearing none other than number thirty-two.  Being the man's biggest fan I ought to have known they were going to retire that number, but it's still my favorite number.  Unfortunately for me, Miss Idaho ruined everything.  

I know plenty of other people don't have all the nicest things to say about Karl Malone sometimes.  But true love does not die easy, and I think he really was my first true love.  Thankfully SB isn't the jealous type, so when we celebrated his thirty-second birthday a few years back he graciously let me call it his Karl Malone birthday and we celebrated in Utah Jazz style.  This year is my Karl Malone birthday.  I've been waiting for this moment since I was ten.  22 years is a long time coming, but bring on 2011.  I hope I have plenty of opportunities to tell people how old I am... and even more so to write it down.  32.  It just feels good to me.

And on to what makes me so lucky.  My big uncle Mike took me to one of my first games around this time when I was in my KM glory days.  You can bet that I was DECKED. OUT. when I arrived downtown.  Karl Malone (signed) shirt.  Jazz shorts.  Jazz socks.  Malone L.A. Gear shoes.  Wrist bands. Sweatband. Jazz Earrings (so cool, thanks Mom), Jazz Scrunchie ( and equally as cool, thanks again Mom).  I wished I had some way of bringing the 12 Jazz and Karl Malone posters that decorated the walls of my room to prove to Karl I was his meant-to-be... but I gave it my best.  They gave me a temporary tattoo when we got there.  I instantly put it on my cheek.  Then the program man asked if we wanted a program.  Big, intimidating, Uncle Mike said of course we did.  And the man winked as he handed it over to us and said: "I think there is something inside your magazine."

Sure enough.  A letter for a chance to win a gift certificate if we'd come down at half-time and shoot a free-throw. Mike made me do it.  I'd only played basketball a year.  I was terrified.  I had never played in front of this many thousands.  But twenty-five dollars to the Pro Image sportswear shop was on the line.  That might as well have been the lottery to a 10 year old in 1990.  I couldn't even enjoy the game or Karl.  All I could think about was my first chance to prove I was going to be in the NBA someday.  

Halftime finally came.  15 of us from the crowd came down to shoot our shots.  We got a t-shirt just for trying.  It was huge, but I put it on.  I did whatever they told me, I couldn't even think straight.  I was up next. They let me move up a little closer to the basket.  They asked me if I wanted lifted up in the air.  I thought to myself  "I've only ever shot a basketball from the ground, better stick to what I know."  Nope, I don't want lifted up, I told the guy.  

They handed me the ball.  I don't know what happened next.  The only thing I remember is a lot of cheers and the ball going in.  I won!  I won the $25 gift certificate! I was RICH!  I was LOADED!  I was going to get more Karl Malone posters and paraphernalia for my room!

And so I did.  And felt as lucky as a 10 year old with a crush on Karl could. 

Lucky Number 7: L.A. With Hay Hay

Hailey gets what Hailey wants.

A lucky post about her.   And our trip to L.A.

Top 10 Luckiest things about Los Angeles 2004.

10.  Hola! Mickey Mouse.
9. Meeting Arnauld: the free park hopper passes/ free front of line passes/ free t-shirts
8. Finally finding the orange bus.
7. Meeting Darryl's furious lover and meeting Mr. Finder's Keepers.
6. Good sheets.
5. Meeting Darryl: Love is a dirty game.  Be careful how you play the game of love.
4. Not getting killed by the asbestos in our hotel room.
3. Not getting killed in the Jewelry District.
2. Not getting killed on public transport.
1. Not getting killed by the drunk driver who hit us.

Ultimate lucky thing about the trip?  Meeting crazies & living to tell about it.

Love my Hailey.  Love my luck with my Hailey.  If I run out of lucky things, becoming members of the 40 and using ding dongs to pay our way out of the parking lot is in the wings of the St. Paddy's countdown.

Drunky taking our pic in the J.D.

Santa Monica

Sweet Sweet Arnauld.

The Lucky Streak: Days 4, 5 & 6

If you thought I ran out of luck stories, you were wrong.  Just out of time.  So today it's 3-in-1. 

Utah State was good to me.  I loved it.  Go Aggies all the way.  Some of the best friends I've ever known = Ags. 

And some of the greatest luck found me at USU.  SB & I were only there one semester together which is the unluckiest part, but in looking through pictures for this blog post we discovered we really must of known each other-- and even had a conversation way back in the day.  He's not convinced of it, but I am.  Regardless, it seems to have worked out for us.  But I wish he could have been witness to these 3 lucky things in Logan:

Let's Make a Deal ... Senior Year, I don't have the Freshman Year Pictures.

#1.  Let's make a deal.   Freshman year.  Called for 5 volunteers for a pie eating contest.  4 boys and me were selected.  One cream pie in front of each of us.  No hands allowed.  Faces only.  On your mark, get set, go....  And the winner is.... the girl..   Yep, me.   And for it I got to choose curtain one, two, or three.  I don't know what number I chose, but it was lucky.  Because unlike the people who won frogs and rubber chickens, I won a brand new stereo system.  The pie part was pure talent.  But the picking part was a little bit of luck. 

Roommates & I -- not as lucky this year as my first year-- still as much fun, though.

#2. Spelling Bee.  9th place.  Out of the University Academic Week Spelling Bee.  Hundreds entered.  10 made it on stage for the finals.  All 10 won prizes.  I was one of them.  It was lucky.  Seriously.  I mean I am not a spelling idiot, but I rely pretty heavily on wavy red lines under words to know if I spelled it right or not.  But while those around me were getting words like bivouacking, I had to spell business.  The word that put me into the final 10 was receipt.  The person that got out before me had something more along the lines of onomatopoeia.  I had no intentions of even entering the spelling bee.  I think I did it on a dare.  Next thing I knew I was as nervous as a cow at a beef factory standing on stage with people clearly having more intent to win than me.  We drew numbers to see what order we would go in.  I took ninth because somewhere in the first round someone ahead of me misspelled a word before I ever even went.  As I started spelling my final word I felt my face go bright red.  With every letter I said my voice went up in pitch.  I was literally squealing by the time I completed my version of how to spell the word.  Wrong answer.  I was out.  I don't know why I got so nervous for something 45 minutes earlier I wasn't even planning on doing.  But I think it is NOTHING but luck that I took ninth place.

Utah State, hey!  Aggies all the Way... Go Aggies, Go Aggies...

#3.  The Price is Right.  Showcase show-down winner.  So it wasn't with the real Bob Barker, but at the Institute of Religion there were some thousand some-odd people (maybe that's more than were really there, I don't know) but never the less.  My name was picked.  I went through the bidding, the games, the whole deal--- and on to the show down.  And I won.  It was all very lucky.  Probably would have scored some bigger prizes in California at the true P.I.R.   But I got a date night with free passes to dinner, bowling and a dessert, if I recall.  And it was pretty lucky.  I did date 'Bob' for a short stint and everybody wanted to chalk it up to that.  But we very definitely weren't dating when I won-- and he very definitely did not have anything to do with my pure luck.  True story.