Baby i'm back! And what we do for the golden arches!

Okay first off I will say i'm very sorry for my absent writing for so long. I'm sure you've all missed me and I have missed all of you too, especially YOU *points*! :)

I'm going to write about a very serious issue now and I hope you will all follow and read along with as much intellect as I put into this particular set of musing.

NEWAYS

Everyone says that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Well okay maybe not everyone but a lot of the important people in society say so, namely those who have stock in the breakfast trade, personal trainers, weight watcher people... ya know the story...

Well I have to admit breakfast might be the most important meal of the day for me but I certainly am not very good at making it so. Most of the time im lucky enough to remember to take my medication and put on deodorant let alone make something to nourish my tummy.

However there is one except to the rule where breakfast becomes absolutely crucial to me and to every one else it seems who has the golden arches on the brain. I'm talking about morning rush at McDonald's.

I like to think of myself as an expert of the McDonald's breakfast menu. I know whats good, I know whats gross, and I know whats worth your buck. After all no one wants to pay too much for a glass of Orange Juice do you? (Btw, Last I checked Burger King gives you a carton of Orange Juice so even though the food is basically just as good and the hash brown is the same only divided up into bight size portions, I never go there.)

ANYWAYS,

McDonald's, in the morning. Yes. Any other time, No!

If you go between six-eight in the morning you can pretty much guess you'll be in and out just fine, which is to say if you're going to a typical one. IF you're going to MY McDonald's then you know you've got before seven and thats it before the entire parking lot and the block surrounding it becomes bumper to bumper traffic jam. And the craziest thing i've noticed about this is how when one gets into said traffic jam they are the ONLY person that matters. Everyone else can just go... away because the mentality is "Me and my Mcmuffin!"

If you dont believe me just try to cut someone off in the drive through. You think you've seen an angry house mother before you just keep her from her morning hashbrown and you'll wish you'd had toast at home that way.

BTW, is it hashbrown or hashbrowns? After all it is one wedge of greasy fried potato. Wouldnt the word be singular?

AAAAAAnyways.

The other day I was pulling into the early morning traffic jam of Mcidee's (spcheck?) when my mother called. So instead of just pulling forward I pulled into a parking spot only to realize what a huge mistake that was since instantly I got blocked in. For a second I was in panic mode. So much so infact that I cut the conversation short and started to do the whole "I'm going to back up now" dance. This dance for those who dont know is when you put your car in reverse, turn your head all the way around on your neck, and proceed to just look like you're going to do it no matter whose coming, but then pound on your breaks at the last second.

Well, behind me this really nice guy saw my dance and he stopped, giving me more than enough room to get out. I was then going to go all the way around the building to get into the back of the line when a thought came to me. I had enough room there to just go ahead and get into the line! I mean I could cut! I'd practically be at the window! Now, I am not the type of person who cuts lines. My mother didnt raise me to be so crude, however the morning rush of "Me and my McMuffin" got into my brain and I almost did it.

It was my humanity and devotion to god that stopped me, thats all I can say. Because no sooner did I think about it did I decide not to. (Also i'm pretty much a coward when it comes to confrontation.)

So, I drove all the way around the building and got in the back of the line. Not five minutes later I saw another woman in the same spot and the same predicament and I had been earlier and I thought i'd show the same courtesy to her as the young man had bestowed upon me. I stopped and even with a wave of my hand indicated for her to go.

The woman waved at me, turned her wheel... and CUT THE LINE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!!!

I'll tell you. There is nothing people wont do for their breakfast at McDonald's it seems. And I think that says something about people in general. Dont you?

The McMuffin-less End.

Wow... okay.

So I guess I struck a nerve with some people from my date post. For the record, the name in the story is changed and all events in it are really what happened. Sorry but its reality. If you've got a problem with that then feel free to post whatever crap you want in the comments. I dont really care. If this blog gets read or not, isnt the point for me. Just think about that fact that what you say could make you look really really stupid when you dont mean to ;)

(Just giving ya a little warning to those who know who they are.)

NEWAYS,

On a happier note. I have a new man in my life. Actually i've had him in my live for about two months now. If you know me you probably already know this, but we are very happy together and are looking forward to Dec. 11

All are invited :)

Lol j/k! No we're not getting married.... not yet anyway ;)

ANYWAYS

The "Happy" ending.

Notice the word Diet has the word "Die" in it!

That title actually has nothing to do with this blog. Its just something I wanted to point out.

Anyway.

So while my life has been crashing done on me in one mess after another, and no one seems to know what to do with me anymore, including myself, I had a very interesting Epiphany the other day.

I was at the movies with a dear little boy that I love watching the movie "Monsters Vs. Aliens." during which I got a text from a coworked of mine saying that i'd forgotten to fill out part of my time sheet and would end up only getting paid for four days instead of five. I wanted to explode in rage and frusteration. But I couldnt because I had a minor with me and I was in a public place watching a movie with people who would be unhappy if I used some of the choice words I had in mind.

So I didnt. And went on to watch the kids movie. I usually dont care much for kids movies. The last one I really liked was Kung Fu Panda and thats because well... it was a panda doing Kung fu! Pretty awsome!

NEWAY

This particular movie was cute, not my favorite, but there was a part that did make me laugh. I dont know why. Maybe it was because of all my pent up stress, but I still smile when I think about it.

If you havnt seen this movie, there's this blue blob guy named Bob. And he doesnt have a brain and he's not smart or anything. But I grew to identify. Maybe it was the blob part. Maybe it was the lack of brain. In any case. I really liked Bob.

Theres this point towards the end of the movie, where the Monsters are in a really bad spot and their in this alien ship and everythings exploding around them and it looks like they're gonna die, and the other two "smarter" monsters are telling each other how they've enjoyed working with eachother and what not, thinking they're gonna die. And Bob looks at them all wide eyed and innocent and says, "And i'll see you two tomorrow... for lunch."

And I laughed so hard I think I scared the little kid sitting next to me.

I dont know why, but it really made me think. I wish I was like that blue guy. Ya know? I wish even everythings crashing down around me, i'm oblivious to it and I just casually look towards the future. I dont know if its the best idea in the world, but I want to try and be more like that. I need to stop worrying so much, and just do what I do. Things will work out, or if they dont, at least i'll see you guys tomorrow... for lunch.

The BOB End.

My Date *whoot whoot*

So i've been putting this blog off for two reasons. One because i've been busy and the other because i'm lazy. How that works, I dont know. But it's the truth.

Anyway.

This is a story about a little girl named Melissa, and a big heroic returned missionary named.... we'll call him Bob (that is not his real name.)

Once upon a time, lucky Melissa got set up on a date with *gasp* a returned missionary. "How lucky am I?!" She said to herself, "To be able to meet such a fine and rare man in Utah. I must be on my best behavior so that I will impress him and be his goddess for time and all eternity!"

But alas. It was not meant to be. For even on the first phone call his voice and sound clearly made it...er... clear that they were not well suited. She was a bold, confident, intelligent young woman with passion for art. He was interested in wingers. (yes. The restaurant.)

When Bob came to the door, he proved to be a strapping young man of about five feet with light blond hair, glazed blue eyes, and a pressured grin that came from the image of Melissa standing there in her buxom five foot four inches, two hundred seventy pounds.

Still, Melissa would make the best of the situation and be perfectly casual and nice. She smiled politely, waiting at every door for about five minutes so he could open it for her, and asked all the appropriate and polite questions. Aka, "Where did you serve your mission?" (That actually was the only question she needed to ask in the end because that was all Bob wanted to talk about even though he had been home for approx. seven months.)

When Melissa found out that Bob had no job, no money, and lived with his parents, and still wanted to get married right away and have ten kids, she was undaunted and remained poised and pleasant. She smiled and agreed that she too wanted to have kids someday and it seemed they had something in common. (She left out the fact that she tended ten kids at a time on a regular biases and that ten kids really wasnt practical or even as fun as someone would guess.)

They arrived at the movies, Ice age, about twenty minutes early and sat in the lobby, discussing cookies. "I like cookies, as you can tell..." Melissa said, to which the returned missionary gave an enthusiastic nod. A signal that she took to mean, he'd noticed her curvaceous figure. The subject dwindled down to all the usual topics of a first date that get discussed when there is nothing left to talk about. Family. Career. And Food.

Finally it was time for the movie. A delightful G rated film about fuzzy creatures and their problems in life. Bobs choice.

Afterwards, they went on to dinner. Melissa, having noticed him saying he didnt have much money, and also having noticed that when paying for the movie tickets earlier he'd opened his wallet and stared at it long enough for a moth to fly out of it, ordered the least expensive thing on the menu. As did he.

As Melissa picked up her fork to eat the returned missionary asked, "Shall we say a prayer?" Melissa used everything inside her to keep from rolling her eyes as she sat down her fork and knife and nodded, "okay."

Into dinner, the topic of conversation went on to further details of Missions in Brazil, while Melissa inwardly wondered why in the world a restaurant would serve their sticky wings with a side of celery. Honestly. How many people in the world like celery?!

Then. The questions happened.

It was like a lightning bolt out of no where! A great horrific strike that jolted Melissa to her core and made her stare as a deer in headlights.

"Soo... how did you gain your testimony?" Bob paused, leaning forward on the table between them. The light directly overhead.

"I er...." Melissa went on to weakly try to explain her testimony, having been caught off guard by the intimate and somewhat random question. The whole mood of the night was put off even more, and she felt somewhat hurt and betrayed that all her attempts to be civil ended up like this.

Later, as they drove home, Bob confessed that he'd never read weathering heights, hated romance, and *gasp* didnt see why in school Shakespeare had to be studied, Melissa sat in mostly silence, still wondering what she had done to deserve this cruel and unimaginable torture.

Bob missed the exit to her house, and on the road back, dropped another atomic bomb.

"So tell me a scripture that has influenced your life."

A long moment of silence ensued while Melissa felt out how exactly she should respond to that. Why was he doing this to her? What did he want her to say? Sure there were many other girls around who would have been able to throw down a reply that included something about Christ and being forgiven. But they were mostly girls just out of seminary, looking for their prince missionaries to sweep them off their feet.

Melissa wasnt that! She was a working woman, just trying to pay her rent and maybe have some fun once in awhile!

Finally. She turned slowly to look at the boy. Now seeing him as he really was and feeling completely disgusted.

"You know," She said slowly, "None come to mind."

When Bob dropped her off at her apartment that night. They were half way up the drive way when he said, "Well. Here's your goodbye hug."

"Ok see y..." Melissa said, returning the fast embrace, unable to finish the sentance before he was gone. Gone like a thief in the night.

Left there, alone, bewildered, and a little annoyed. Melissa stood inside the door of her apartment thinking the night over and realizing she would have almost rather been raped than ever go through that long and agonizing procedure.

Later, when her mother called and asked her how is had gone. Melissa couldnt come up with how to describe said date. So she said the first thing that came to mind. Her reply was simple and honest.

"He was toooo.... Mormon."

The End.


(Everything in that Story was completely True. ((Except for Melissa saying "How lucky am I" and blah blah blah. That was all me being sarcastic.))

My point of my story, Mormon Bachelor Pad, is that I do hang out around mormon guys looking to get married and have familys. This isnt the first time i've met guys like this. However, i'm not saying your like this because you're a self declared bachelor living in a pad. And a blog about a self declared bachelor living in a pad, is a whole other blog unto itself.

But I digress. My point is, Mormon guys are SCARY! Especially ones who are trying to be like Jesus, but end up just being like jack Ass's. I've met guys who are really Christ like. And they would never ask a girl what their favorite scripture is on a first date, or how they gained their testimony. And they wouldnt insult Shakespeare when they knew they were on a date with a theater major.

In any case, I hope you were being sarcastic in your comment because otherwise, about half of the single mormon female population in utah over the age of twenty are rolling their eyes at you and saying, "Thank you for stating the obvious."

Believe it or not, women dont want to just become your baby making machine. They have hopes and dreams of their own.

The TRUTHFUL End.

Ok! You've asked for it!

Alright maybe not. But a few people wondered if I was ever going to post another blog and I keep telling them the reason I havnt blogged for a bit is because I want this to be a happy blog and not one where I just whine about life, and pretty much all i've had lately is stuff to whine about. This the lack of posted.

Things are looking up though....

I'VE BEEN LOOKING THE LANDSCAPE OVERRRRR!
AND ITS COVERED IN FOUR LEEEEEEAF CLOVER!!!!

Sorry. i've had that song on my mind a lot lately. Actually i've had a lot of songs on my mind. Singings pretty much been the theme of my life lately even though I had to quite my singing lessons because I simply couldnt afford it. :'(

But! You're truly is a trooper and will prevail!.... (Prevale?)

Anyways.

My little sisters getting married. And a lot of people want to know how I feel about it. Well let me ask you this. If you were a fat mormon girl who hasnt had a date in over a year and a half, you work with little kids all day that you'd give you life for even though they give you pains as painful as a grape shoved up your nose and into your brain, and then go home only to find that said jobs made you forget you have a person life and things that need to be cleaned never get cleaned, and then out of NO WHERE your younger sister gets married to someone older than you are...

I started rambling... OH MY GOSH! I STARTED WHINEING!

XXXXXMaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagic XXXXXXXXXXXXXMAAAAAAGICXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ok.

Those Magic X's should make it...um... better. No whineing. I refuse to be a whiner on here. I do enough of that in real life.

Where was I?

Anyways.

My little sisters getting married.

The WHINELESS End.

*sigh* Why do I do this?!

Here we go again. I actually said that phrase in the grocery store today. I was approaching the egg section and loudly said the words, "Here we go again."

I didnt realize there was this person nearby who gave me a look. He gave me this look because he wondered who the heck I could possibly be talking to, and in truth it was to no one but myself. Now, one might ask themselves why I said this to myself while approaching the egg section in the grocery store. I'll tell you. It was because I am once again trying to eat right. And every time I try to get a healthy diet it always includes buying eggs.

Eggs and I have a very strange relationship. I like them. But I only like them when they've been cooked appropriately, and by appropriately I mean there is nothing left in the part you are supposed to eat that is not rubbery, hard, stringing, discolored, chewy, or any number of unpleasant additives that could go here.

But even so, every time I resolve to eat right I buy eggs and the reason for this is because growing up, whenever my mother was "eating right" on her weight watchers diet she always had eggs in the morning. Supposivly they're good for you and they're filling.

However, here's my problem with this. I decide to eat right in the moment. And eggs dont stay fresh forever. Sure sometimes they can last awhile I guess, but with me i'm ALWAYS paranoid that im gonna crack open an egg into a frieing pan and have it be the egg that had been waiting so long that now its... I dont even know. I dont even know what could be horrible.

I just know that im always a little paranoid when I crack open an egg. Like, a few times its had blood in there which is gross. And people say, oh thats just because it was fertile, or something. But I wanna be like WHAT THE HECK! Are you saying some day I might crack open an egg and theres gonna be a partcially developed chicken embrio in there?!? GROSS!!!!

Thats like something from my nightmares. Seriously.

ANYWAYS!

So now its official! I'm trying to eat right. When I got home one of the first things I did was throw away all my old eggs. Which is hard for me. If you know me you know I hate to throw away things that could have been eaten, but the risk was just too great. So I replaced said eggs with some new ones who, I am pleased to say, made them all home save and sound. I hate it when I get home and theirs a broken one.

Gah! What if that happened and when I opened the carton theres a squishy little chick carcass inside! Gross.

The GROSSED OUT End.

In my attempts to get a new life...

So randomly and surprisingly I got the rest of today and tomorrow off from work. I dont know if this is because they dont need me or dont want me or they need my hours. But in any case, im going to work on myself and also (hopefully ((fingers crossed))) work on my writings.

Im also looking into going to a day spa, but I think i'll probably end up talking myself out of it. After all, looking at my account should be enough to talk me out of it... right?