Our First House

When Scotty and I were planning our wedding in 2003, one of the things we had to do was find a place to live. Scotty's grandpa and his brothers ran a produce farm in our area, and they owned a few properties around town where they placed their produce stands. One of the properties had an old house on it, and no one had lived in it for years and years, so Scotty and I talked to his grandpa about renting the house. 

We came up with an agreement, and it gave us the chance to live with some pretty cheap rent.

The house, as you can see, was in pretty rough shape, but we made it work. I don't know very many people who would willingly move into a house like that one.

When we moved into the house, there were remnants from past tenants. Weird remnants - like jars of liquids. We have no idea what was in them. The garage was full of stuff, and the cellar under the garage was full of mysterious bottles... old preserves and such... we think. We just left it all alone. 

The basement of the house was strange. It had a staircase that went up to a ceiling (Scotty's aunt had lived in the house as a newlywed twenty-five years prior and had a bedroom built over the staircase). We called them "The Stairs that Go Nowhere." There was also a big shower in the basement - like, as big as the dining area in my current house. It was a shower room. To this day, I still wonder about that shower. No one knew why it was there. The house had been purchased just to put the produce stand on the property and provide a bathroom for the stand workers. The shower was just part of the deal. 

In the shower room, there was a hatch that led under the house. If there were any bodies to be found... that's where they would have been. Or maybe in the creepy closet under the stairs... or the dark cellar under the garage... or in the field out back. 

There could have been a lot of bodies. 

The basement was mostly concrete (and tile - per the shower). It was damp and smelly and just really, really creepy. We stored some things down there, but for the most part, it was unusable, and the type of place you run from and shut the door behind you. I always kept the basement door closed and locked so whatever was down there would hopefully stay down there. 

I absolutely loved giving people tours of the house!

Since the property's main purpose was to host the produce stand, it had a gravel parking lot. It was on a busy street, so we constantly had people pulling in and out of the parking lot to conduct business at the produce stand, but also to turn around or stop and make a phone call. Sometimes people would just park there and leave their cars. We never knew what they were up to. 

The house was also next to a park, and we always had people sneaking through our back field. Our motion sensor light when on and off all night, and we were always having to crawl out of bed to investigate who was in our yard.

The house was really noisy from traffic, and we always had cops stationed in a parking lot across the street (at a boat store) that would fire up their sirens throughout the night as they responded to calls. 

We didn't sleep well while we lived there, and to add to the difficulties, we had a neighbor whose dog barked all night long right outside our bedroom window. We called the City, and they issued a warning to the neighbors, but nothing was resolved. The dog barked and barked and barked, and one night, while laying awake in bed, Scotty and I started discussing how we could kill the dog. 

And we were serious. We were going to murder that dog. 

The next weekend, after a miserable day at church, we started entertaining the idea of moving. Did we have to keep living in that house? Did we want to become dog killers?

No and no. 

So we moved into Scotty's mom's basement. Because moving in with in-laws was preferable to the crimes we were thinking about committing. 

After six brutal months, we were out of the house within a week. 

Three months later, we bought our current house, so it ended up working out. Moving in with Scotty's mom gave us a few months to save up our down payment. 

About ten years ago, the old house was demolished and the property was sold. It's been a vacant lot ever since. 

Even though it was rough living in that house, I look back on that time fondly. I kind of wish I could do it over again but with my current knowledge and skills. I'm just curious what I could make of that home now verses what I made of it when I was 19 years old and had no clue what I was doing in any area of life (though don't tell 19-year-old me that. She won't believe you. She thinks she knows everything). 

Things I Didn’t Know in High School

My kids would end up going to the same high school I went to.

I would have five sisters-in-law that I went to junior high or high school with (and all but one would get divorced).

Coach Olson would still work there 20 years later and somehow look exactly the same.

I would have dreams about forgetting my locker combination, forgetting the dance choreography, forgetting my schedule, and forgetting to do my math homework for the rest of my life.

My teachers weren’t as old as I thought they were.

Some of the people I went to school with but never really talked to would become really good friends later in life. 

The boy who flipped a kid over in his desk during math class in 8th grade would one day be my brother-in-law and marry my best friend.

Some of my classmates wouldn’t live long past graduation. 

I didn’t miss anything by not getting a letterman’s jacket or class ring.

I would eventually reconnect with some of my teachers using something called “social media.”  

I would one day chaperone the dances. 

My high school would be the first in our area to have weapon scanners.

One of my kids would have their first kiss with one of my classmate’s kids. 

My parking spot would be converted to faculty parking. 

They would get rid of the Gate Lady (IYKYK).

The Glitch

As you know, the Super Bowl was last weekend. With all the Super Bowl hubbub comes everyone’s analysis of the half-time show. I didn’t see the half-time show. I went to my in-laws’ house for the Super Bowl, and I ran home for something right before half-time, so I was busy with other things. 

I didn’t see last year’s half-time show, either, and I realized the other day that I’ve seen very few Super Bowl half-times in my life. I decided to look up the list of half-times just to see how many I remember. 

The first half-time I ever saw was Michael Jackson. I remember the audience flipping over cards to create images of children holding hands around the stadium. That’s was in 1993 and the first time I’d ever heard of the Super Bowl. The Super Bowl (and the Dallas Cowboys) came into my life via my step-brother, James. Prior to that, I couldn’t have named a single football team to save my life.

Other than Michael Jackson, I only remember seeing some of Katy Parry and some of J-Lo/Shakira. I watched all of Justin Timberlake’s most recent half-time and all of Maroon 5’s. I might have caught a glimpse of Eminem’s.

And I swear I saw Janet Jackson and the wardrobe malfunction LIVE. This where I discovered a glitch in my memory, and it’s bothering me.

When I was a junior in high school, I worked at a craft boutique in a mall. One night during my shift, I started feeling really tired and got body aches. It came on really fast. When I arrived at work, I felt fine, and by the end of the night, I was laying on a bench in the store shivering and falling asleep. 

The next morning I tried to go to dance practice, and I ended up getting really nauseous and throwing up in the garbage can in the hallway of the school. I went home and slept for the rest of the day. The following day I tried going to school again, and I got nauseous during my first period photography class. My teacher wasn’t in the room, and when I felt the urge to puke, I took off running out to the hallway in hopes of making it to the bathroom. Instead I ran head on into my photography teacher who was coming down the hall, and I threw up all over the floor and his shoes. He grabbed a garbage can as fast as he could. I was so embarrassed. Then he wrote me a note to take to the office to call my mom. It said, “She is sick,” and it had an arrow. He told me I had to hold it in front of me with the arrow pointing toward my head. I went home, and my mom took me to the doctor where I was told that I had Influenza A. 

I had never heard the word “influenza.” Flu, yes, but not influenza. I didn’t know flu shots existed, and I didn’t really understand what the flu was (I thought the flu was a stomach bug). 

Once I had a diagnosis, I stopped trying to go to school, and I slept for several days. One of those days was Super Bowl Sunday. I remember having the Super Bowl on while I slept on the couch in the family room. I woke up just long enough to watch the half-time show - Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake. I saw the incident happen. I was confused and thought maybe it wasn’t what I thought it was. Then I fell back into a feverish slumber, and when I finally woke back up, the phrase “wardrobe malfunction” had taken over the universe.

For over twenty years, this is how I remember it happening. 

But now I have to question every memory I’ve ever had because when I was looking at the list of Super Bowl half-times, it said that Janet Jackson did the half-time in 2004. I had to check a few different sources because I didn’t believe it! It couldn’t have been 2004 because I had Influenza A when I was a junior in high school in 2001. Yet, all the records show 2004.

If the wardrobe malfunction happened in 2004 that means that I was graduated, married, and had just been given the keys to our first home that very day. I don’t remember if or where we watched the Super Bowl that year. I don’t remember seeing Janet’s boob on the day we got our house. 

What I do remember is seeing Janet Jackson’s boob from my mom’s basement couch in between flu naps. But it can’t have happened that way unless the entire world and internet has conspired to gaslight me. 

I know that memory can be a trippy and unreliable thing, but I really don’t like this. I don’t like that I’m remembering something wrong! If I remember this thing wrong, how many other things am I remembering wrong? 

What if I’m wrong… a lot? As a person who’s always right, that’s really going to mess me up!

A Moment Like This

September Writing Challenge - Prompt #33:

Old School

When I was a kid, there was a local radio station called Hot 94.9 (which we called “Hot Ninety-Four-Nine). The frequency was hard to pick up in some parts of the valley, so I remember being able to listen to it at my mom’s house but not my dad’s house.* Every now and then, if we had the radio in the perfect spot with the antenna pointing just so and the dial tweaked to the precise place, my sister and I could get a fuzzy signal for 94.9, but a lot of the time we couldn’t get it to work. Eventually they adopted the 97.1 frequency as well, and that allowed us to listen to 94.9 from Magna. 

When my grandma passed away at the beginning of this year, my mom found a Hot 94.9 fanny pack in her house. She thought Zoe might like it, so she brought it over for her. When I saw it, I wanted it for myself. It was a relic; a nostalgic treasure from my younger years, and it was beautiful! I knew people would love my fanny pack. 

It didn’t make sense for my grandma to have a Hot 94.9 fanny pack. The music of 94.9 was not “elderly friendly” by any means, but my grandma always loved SWAG, so that must be why she had it. She was a collector of free stuff whether it suited her or not, and then she would very selectively choose who to give it to. We had a family rule - if Grandma offers you stuff, you take it whether you want it or not because it needs to be removed from her house! I guess none of us ever deserved the fanny pack while she was living.

The first time I wore it was at an 80’s themed dance I went to with my friend Christie. I wouldn’t consider 94.9 to be a “true” representation of 80’s culture (its more 90’s), but since the station started in 1989, it wasn’t a complete farce, so I donned the bag (as well an an authentic 80’s jumpsuit with shoulder pads that I found at DI a few months earlier and bought because I knew I would need it someday). As I was getting ready for the dance, I kept thinking, “Everyone is going to love my fanny pack!” I knew people were going to comment on it all night - things along the lines of, “OMG! I used to love that radio station!” and “No way! I remember Hot 94.9! Where did you get that fanny pack?” As an introvert, I had to prepare mentally for the fast fame that would be coming my way.

In the end, not a single person at the dance mentioned my fanny pack, and I roamed the venue thinking Does no one remember 94.9? 

Months later, I started using the bag for Lagoon trips. I thought surely people at Lagoon would remember Hot 94.9, but no one at Lagoon ever said anything either. The fanny pack wasn’t the conversation piece I thought it would be!

The last weekend of summer break, I took my girls on an overnight trip to Logan. Someone complimented my fanny pack. It was the hostess at Angie’s Restaurant in Logan (where Hot 94.9 didn’t reach). She was a Utah State student - far too young to know anything about old school radio, and let’s be honest, she probably didn’t know what radio even is since she has probably streamed for all her life. She liked my fanny pack… because it was pink. 

A couple of days later, I finally got some legit recognition. August 16th, 2023… yes, I recall the date… around 7:30 pm… yes, I recall the time… in the parking lot of the police station… long story… a guy named Rob said, “Hey, I remember those fanny packs!”

And that was it. The fanny pack survived 30 years in my grandma’s drawer for that moment. 

*At my dad’s house I usually listened to Oldies 94.1. As a teenager. I loved oldies just as much as I loved anything modern. I jammed to No Doubt, Will Smith, and TLC on the weekdays and The Beatles, ABBA, and The Supremes on the weekends. 

Mom and Dad Til the End of Time

Back in May, Scotty and I went on a quick trip to Disneyland for our 20th Anniversary. In some ways, this made us feel young, wild, and carefree. But then when I saw the photos (like the one below), I was like, "Oh dear! We’re so old!" (said in Sultan voice)

The photos made me realize that, even when we don’t have kids with us, we are a mom and a dad. I mean, look at us!

I am such a mom! And Scotty is such a dad!

We were never supposed to be like this. We truly believed that we would always be cool and “with the times” (nevermind the fact that we weren't ever cool when we were actually young).

Here are some things that Scotty does that make him such a dad:

He wears an ugly hat to keep the sun off his head and neck.

He eats whatever our kids leave on their plates. 

When people drive fast up the street, he goes out on the porch and gives them the stink eye.

He tells dad jokes. Example:

Me: I’m going to run to the store and grab some milk.

Scotty: It would be faster if you drove.

He falls asleep anywhere, any time, and then he wakes up randomly and yells at everyone because he thinks they’re misbehaving, but they’re really just doing normal, non-sleeping things.

He has a dad bod.

He thinks everyone needs to be in bed by 8:00.

He yells at the neighbor’s dog from inside the house.

He pushes the lock button for the truck at least three times before he goes to bed.

He waves at everyone who drives by (as long as they are going the speed limit).

He digs coupons out of the garbage can.

He’s always telling us how much the cost of gas went up in the last 24 hours.

Here are some things I do that make me such a mom:

I ask my kids and all their friends if they are wearing sunscreen.

I answer to, “Mom!” even when it’s someone else’s kid.

I force everyone to eat my snacks.

I ask things like “Have you pooped today?” “Is there a chance you’ll start your period on vacation?” “Did you flush?” “Did you say thank you?” 

I think driving a mini van is a real treat.

I tell my kids that drinking water is the solution to every problem. 

I wear hideous knee-length shorts.

I went to high school with my kids’ friends’ moms. 

I have Bandaids stashed everywhere… kitchen drawer, wallet, glove box.

I stand outside of bathroom stalls and say, “Every last drop! Make sure you get EVERY. LAST. DROP!”

I’ve picked out my oldest children’s spouses. 

——-

There’s no getting away from it. We are what we are. Mom and Dad til the end of time.

Back in My Day

The other day, on our way to the temple open house, Nicky and I had some pretty funny conversations. I had Nicky drive to the temple so he could get some more experience commuting on I-15. As I navigated from the passenger seat, he started asking how we ever knew where we were going before cell phones and GPS. 

First I explained MapQuest, but then I broke the news to him that MapQuest wasn't always “The Way.” We used to have to just know. Or ask for directions. Then I told him how when you needed the coordinates for a street with a name, you had to look it up in the phone book. 

Then he asked, "What's a phone book?"

I thought surely he knew what a phone book was! You don't have to walk among something to know what it is, in some cases. Right? Plus, he grew up around phone books. Mostly as something to sit on to get a haircut or eat dinner at grandma's house, but still!

So I explained how everyone's address and phone number was in the phone book unless you requested to be unlisted, and every year, an updated phone book would appear on the driveway. 

(I used to always look through the phone book as a boredom buster. I wouldn’t read a novel, but I would read the phone book. My formative years were intense).

Nicky was blown away! "So you could just look up anyone and know where they lived and what their phone number was?"

In hindsight, it does sound a little invasive. Then I remembered this... in high school we could buy a directory and have all the addresses and phone numbers of our classmates! So I shared this tid bit with Nicky (at my school, it was called the "Wolveringer”). He was, once again, completely shocked that this information was just handed out so freely! Was there no privacy? No protection?

(At this point I was thinking, "Wow! It really is kind of dangerous how we did that!" Then I remembered how our kids all share their locations on their cell phones and post everything online, and I was like, "Eh." Each generation has their thing).

Then Nicky had another question: How did it work when you had to call someone before cell phones? How would you call that person specifically?

So I had to act out the following:

Hello?

Hi, is Sam there?

Yes, hold on. I'll get him.

(Again, I feel like Nicky should know this because for the first several years of his life, this is what he was exposed to).

Nicky was floored! "So you would call someone's house, and anyone could answer, and you would just have to ask them to go get the person you wanted to talk to?"

“Yup.”

"Just like on TV?" he asked.

I'm not sure what phone calls he has seen on TV, but I'm curious why he thought this was just fictional before now!

Then he asked, "How did you save your contacts?" and I laughed at the modern vernacular. I told him about address books and planners and how we could write phone numbers in them, but most of the time we just memorized them. He can't even imagine having to do that. How can a brain retain such information? Clearly, we were numerical geniuses to host such a catalog in our mind palaces. Remember how you could even memorize the sound the different phone numbers made as you dialed? Kind of like a song or jingle? Beep, Beep, Boop, Beep, Beep, Beep, Boop (that's my childhood phone number from before we had to use area codes for local calls). Now the numbers are silent and oh, so boring, and a lot of people don’t know their own phone numbers, let alone anyone else’s.

(I still keep a few current phone number memorized for emergencies. It’s hard work on the modern-day brain, and yet, I can still recite at least 20 obsolete phone numbers from my childhood. You wanna go back to 1998 and call my friend Steve? 969-6060).

A few months ago, Scotty and I taught our kids about “long distance” calls. Even though I grew up with it, I sometimes forget that it used to be that way - that I couldn’t call my cousins without having to pay extra money, and they only lived half an hour away! Now I can call my husband when he’s in South America or just send him a quick text like it’s nothing!

It’s actually quite incredible (and terrifying) to consider how rapidly technology has grown during Nicky’s lifetime. The differences between what’s become available during his childhood compared to my childhood is much more vast than when you compare my childhood to my parents’ childhoods. Even the difference between what Nicky was born with and what Eva was born with (eight years) is a bit shocking.

I can’t wait til I get to tell my grandkids about how we used to have to walk and drive places because “back in my day” we couldn’t teleport. 

I Have an Assignment for You

Despite having 11 siblings, I only have one fully biological brother. He’s two years younger than me, and his name is Colt. 

As a child, Colt had a way of getting things he wanted. One of our most told family stories is from when we were camping, and Colt found a fisherman by the lake, went and stood near him and said, “Gee, I really wish I had a fish!” Then the guy totally gave Colt his fish! Colt came tromping back into camp so proud of himself! And he had dinner!

So our family always jokingly says, “Gee, I really wish I had a _________!” in our best Colt-mocking voices. It never works for the rest of us!

In that same manner, when I was in high school, Colt wandered up to a radio station van in a grocery store parking lot where they were broadcasting and asked them if they had anything they could give him. They ended up offering him several free tickets to see Rockapella in concert. They gave him enough tickets that a bunch of our family plus a few of our friends got to go. It ended up being one of the funnest concerts I’ve ever been to! 

I grew up watching Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego (and playing the computer game). I also knew a lot of Rockapella songs from listening to the Imagination Station on AM radio. The Rockapella concert took me right back to my childhood (even though the group didn’t have all the same members I knew from Carmen Sandiego).

The other day, an old Rockapella video popped up in my social media feed, and I was like, “Yes! I need this in my life!” And once again, I went right back to my childhood. 

And here’s what I have to say to you now:

You are probably due for some Rockapella. So here you go. Listen. Live your best life. Sing the bass part. 

But also watch. Because those cheekbones. The vests. That epic mullet. And the rat tail braid.

And when you’re done with that? Maybe try some Animaniacs. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling inspired to make a playlist.

Draft Week: Post #2 "Memories of Jobs Past"

Welcome to day two of Draft Week.

Today's draft was written back in March (not so long ago). I was watching Jeopardy when I remembered that my co-worker and friend from school, Travis, used to always be late to work because he refused to leave his house until after Final Jeopardy. I always really liked Travis... until I had to work late for him while he watched TV.  That got me thinking about some of my past jobs and some of the memories I have from them, and I started working on a blog post... and never finished. 

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Actual footage of me as an employee

The snow cone stand

The guy who was supposed to take over at the end of my shift was always late for work because he refused to miss Final Jeopardy.

(That would be Travis, as you recently learned).

That summer, snow cone stands were getting robbed nearly everyday. It was all over the news. Luckily, ours didn’t get robbed while I worked there. 

The Donut Shop

Customers specifically requested that I NOT make their coffee drinks because I was horrible at it. They were like, “I want an iced cappuccino, but I don’t want her to make it.”

We were eligible for a prize if we beat the donut prepping record. I beat it, but my boss refused to give me the prize because he said there’s no way I could have prepped the donuts faster than the boys. This man also said I had huge ears and a huge nose (Do you hear fire engines before everyone else?) but he had the gall to ask me if I had an older sister he could date. 

The Boutique

We specialized in Capodimonte (caw-po-duh-montay). I probably will never meet another human on this earth who even knows what that is. Our merchandise sat on the floor for years and years! No one in West Valley City, Utah needs Capodimonte in their lives.

The Dairy

We had to charge ten cents for cups for ice cream, and there was a lady who always tried to get her cup for free by asking for it AFTER she paid. She’s in my ward now.

I always sang in the milk cooler because I sounded amazing in there! 

The Special Education School

One of our students loved Christopher Reeve, and everyday he would stop by my desk to tell me that Christopher Reeve had died, and everyday, I would act like I was hearing this news for the first time. 

We had a student in an electric wheelchair that I would always avoid in the halls because he frequently rammed into me. One time he pinned me against the wall, and I had to yell for help because he couldn't get his chair to reverse to set me free. Every time he tried, he would just press my legs tighter to the wall. 

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Looking back on my jobs of the past, I realize I don't have a very prestigious resume. I did make a mighty fine soft serve ice cream cone back in the day, though. That might be my go-to if I return to the work force someday. 

Conversations with Pioneers: Episode 2

One of my favorite past times is imagining myself explaining our modern habits and luxuries to pioneers. Sometimes I think about how mind blowing it would have been for me, as a child, to see a cell phone from 2022, and then I think, How could a pioneer even fathom this? I mean... we have this little device that fits in our pockets, and it does everything for us. I remember thinking those shell-shaped walkie talkies that the Ninja Turtles used were the ultimate technological wonder! And now our phones have far surpassed that! (On the rare occasion I speak to my Apple Watch, I feel like I'm fulfilling my childhood Ninja Turtle dreams. Heroes in a half-shell!)

Anyway, here are a few conversations I've imagined myself having with Pioneer Pearl lately:

Me: Sorry I'm late. The line at the drive-thru was a little long.

Pioneer Pearl: What is a drive-thru?

Me: It's a place where we can have food handed to us through a window.

Pioneer Pearl: Why does it need to come through a window?

Me: Well, we don't always cook nowadays, so we have places where we can go and the food is passed to us through a window. It's fast and convenient!

Pioneer Pearl: What do you do with the food after it comes through the window?

Me: We eat it in our cars. 

Pioneer Pearl: Then what do you do with the dishes afterward?

Me: What dishes?

-----------------------------

Pioneer Pearl: Why do some people have strange shapes above their eyes?

Me: Oh, those are eyebrows.

Pioneer Pearl: But why do some of them look like they are painted on? Is it part of a costume? 

Me: Oh, we get to choose our eyebrows now.

------------------------------

Pioneer Pearl: What are you doing with that contraption?

Me: I'm sending Scotty a message to let him know that if he's late for dinner, I'm feeding his food to the chickens.

Pioneer Pearl: Would you really feed his dinner to the chickens?

Me: No. I'm just being funny.

Pioneer Pearl: Well now you've made him nervous that he won't get any dinner!

Me: Nah, it's fine. I put this laughing face next to the message, so he knows I'm joking. I can pretty much say anything I want as long as I put a laughing face next to it. Oh hey! He just sent me a curse word face back! I guess he really wants his dinner!

---------------------------------

Me: Okay, Pearl, I almost have your email account set up. I just need to prove I'm not a robot.

Pioneer Pearl: I don't understand. You very clearly aren't a robot!

Me: Yeah, I know. But I have to prove it.

Pioneer Pearl: How do you do that?

Me: By clicking on traffic lights.

---------------------------------

Me: I think we're almost to the top of the trail. Let me check Google Earth... Oh yes! We're right here, and the end is right there!

Pioneer Pearl: Are you telling me that I walked 1,300 miles from Nauvoo on guesswork, and you get to look at the earth from above on your little messaging contraption?

Me: Only if I have service. 

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Pioneer Pearl: You have chickens? 

Me: Yes. Hei Hei, Chickaletta, Henrietta, Sophie, Princess, and Eva. 

Pioneer Pearl: You name them?

Me: Yes, but we've never been able to get them to keep their monogrammed sweaters on. 

Pioneer Pearl: Why would a chicken need a sweater?

Me: Well, they sell them on Etsy, so the real question is, why wouldn't they need a monogrammed sweater?

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Your Mom Likes to Date

My Church strongly encourages youth to not start dating until age 16. This was a hard principle to observe as a 14 year old who was head over heels in love with a high school senior. Fortunately, Scotty was really shy and reserved and didn't make any moves on me at that young age. Our romantic life consisted of him driving past my house every night on his way home from work and waving... even though my house was not on the route home.

One spring evening, my brother came in my room and told me there was a phone call for me. I had the thought that it might be Scotty - a secret hope that flared up every time there was a phone call for me, but talking on the phone wasn't something Scotty and I really did. So imagine my surprise and fluttering teenage heart when it actually was Scotty. He was calling to invite me to his high school graduation and then to dinner with his mom and step-dad.

I was so excited and terrified. I arrived at the graduation with Scotty and his mom and step-dad. Then Scotty left us (to go be a graduate), and I was alone with his parents. I have no recollection of how that went, but I'm sure I wrote about it in my journal.

After Scotty's graduation ceremony, we went to a restaurant, and I had no idea how to act or what to order. It was like a date because I was there with Scotty, but it also wasn’t like a date because I wasn’t 16 yet, and we were with his parents. I remember being completely awkward about the entire situation, and I was probably a huge disappointment conversationally. At the end of the meal, I needed to pee really bad, but I was too embarrassed to excuse myself to use the restroom.

As we drove away from the restaurant, Scotty's mom proposed that I come to their house to watch Summer of the Monkeys. I had zero desire to watch Summer of the Monkeys, but to spend more time with Scotty, I was willing to suffer many afflictions.

I accepted the invitation, but there was one problem - I still needed to pee. 

We ended up swinging past Blockbuster to get the movie, and then Scotty's mom made a brilliant suggestion that we stop by my house so I could change clothes (I wore a dress to the graduation). I was so relieved because I was fully planning on holding my bladder for the entire movie, which I'm sure would have caused me to implode. 

That night, during the movie, Scotty held my hand for the first time right in front of his mom! I wanted to crawl under a rock and die, and yet, I was the happiest girl on earth. I couldn't help but think how weird it was that we were basically on a double-date with his parents. I would have rather pulled my fingernails out than be in that situation with my own parents. 

Now Scotty and I have been married for nearly twenty years, and we have a son who is turning 16 really soon. 

The other day, I was daydreaming about all of the events I want to attend in the coming year, some of which I want to take Nicky to, and I had the thought, "Oh! He might want to bring a date. I wonder if I should plan on buying an extra ticket!"

And then I realized... the tides have turned! I've become my mother-in-law. I just assume my son wants to go on double dates with me! I had to check myself. Britt, maybe your son doesn't want to bring dates when he goes places with you! But then Nah! Why wouldn't he?

So now I'm in a phase of life where I totally expect my son to be cool bringing his dates around me, and that might not be how things really are. I'll get a copy of Summer of the Monkeys ready just in case.

(Though I'm not sure I want to sit through that again).

Beauty Tips From Back in My Day

September Writing Challenge - Prompt #33:

Product

I think we can all agree that I'm not a person that anyone should come to for beauty or fashion tips. I'm at peace with that. I peaked in 2006, and I'm pretty much stuck there. But there's one thing I can offer you from 2006 that I still think holds solid, and it has to do with a product... A Monistat product.

Now, I know what comes to mind when you think of Monistat. Calm down, calm down. I'm not going there, but I'm still going to ask you to be open-minded as you read this post. 

The product is Monistat Chafing Relief Powder Gel, and I use it on my face. 

True story!

Many years ago (around 2006), a blogger posted about this product and said she used it as make-up primer. I decided to give it a go, and I've used it as primer ever since! (Here's a post I wrote about it in 2011). I simply rub a light coat of the gel on my face before applying make-up, and it does everything a make-up primer should do, including helping my foundation go on more smoothly.

It turns out, the chafing gel has the same main ingredient as many quality make-up primers (dimethicone) at a fraction of the cost. At the time I started using it, several friends from my blogging circle (which is long dead) switched over from Smashbox and Bare Escentuals primers. 

So there you have my product recommendation! Rub some Monistat on your face! And heck, you can even put some on your thighs. I’m all about killing two birds with one stone.

Twenty Years

Next month is my 20th high school reunion. That went by pretty fast, but at the same time, I look at teenagers nowadays and there is clearly a generation gap there. I am not young anymore! Hence my midlife crisis. 

In honor of my 20th reunion (that I'm not going to), here's a little high school questionnaire:

What year did you graduate?

2002

Graduation

What were your school colors?

Navy blue, silver, and white

Did your school have a mascot?

Our mascot was a wolverine, but we didn't have a person running around in a wolverine costume at sporting events. Perhaps we are worse off for it! There is a taxidermied wolverine in a glass case inside the school, though. 

What was your favorite subject?

Psychology

Were you involved in student government?

Nope

Did you do any extracurricular activities?

I was on the dance team, and every year I signed up for French Club but never actually went to a French Club activity.

What were the cheerleaders like?

They were all really good people - nothing like they are in TV and movies. The cheer captain was one of my best friends. 

Did you have a favorite teacher?

I had a handful of teachers I really loved. My French teacher, my AP English teacher, and my AP Psych teacher are tops. I also had a really good math teacher that I think most students didn't appreciate as much as they should have (she still teaches there), and my biotechnology teacher was fun but only because he was a total weirdo. I didn't actually learn anything in his class. 

Michelle and me in our biotech lab coats

Where did you eat lunch?

Usually in the commons area or the courtyard. Sometimes I went home for lunch or walked over to the grocery store to buy potato wedges from the deli or a loaf of French bread. 

How did you get to school?

Eventually I drove myself, but before I was driving, I have no memory of how I got to school! 

Did you have your own car?

Yes - I got a car right before I started my junior year. It was a 1987 VW Jetta, and it had a lot of problems, but it was a beast in the snow! That thing kept me safe... other than breaking down and leaving me stranded a few times. 

My first car - "The Wildebeest"

Did your school have a dress code? If so, what were the most common dress code violations?

There was a pretty standard dress code - no short shorts, no spaghetti straps, no bare midriffs. Just the usual. I don't remember anyone ever getting in trouble for their clothes, though. In junior high, yes, but in high school, not so much. 

Did you ever get in trouble?

Not really. The only thing I can think of was that my dance teacher got after me for being disrespectful to a choreographer once, and I got a parking ticket once for parking outside of a parking spot. 

What was your love life like? Did you have a high school sweetheart?

My love life was complicated because I had a boyfriend on a mission (junior and senior year) but still wanted to date and still wanted boys to like me. Scotty was my boyfriend from 9th grade on, but we didn't actually go to school together. So does that count as a high school sweetheart? I'm not sure what the rules are!

What newsworthy events took place while you were in high school?

Columbine, 9/11, and the Olympics in Salt Lake City

Elizabeth Smart was abducted a few days after I graduated.

What were some of the fashion trends?

Low-cut flared jeans, flip-flops, head scarves, visors, Old Navy performance fleece, puka shell necklaces, highlighted hair

Did you have a locker?

Yes - two, in fact! A regular locker and a gym locker for dance. 

Jessica, Michelle, and me in our spacious gym lockers

Did you have a job?

I worked at a snow cone shack, a boutique in the mall, and a donut shop. For the last half of my senior year, I didn't work (I was laid off from the donut shop). 

Is anyone from your school famous?

Not really. I think a few went to the NFL and such, but I can't name a single one of them.

What TV shows were popular?

Friends, X-Files, ER, Scrubs

Then right after I graduated was when reality TV boomed with American Idol, The Bachelor, etc.

Did you go on a senior trip?

Yes. My friends Michelle, Lynsie, Jessica, and I went to Las Vegas... with my parents. 

Jessica, Me, Michelle, and Lynsie

(Please note our cross-body bags and Michelle's awesome belt)

Have you been to any reunions?

Nope

How many people were in your graduating class?

Between 500-600

Do you still see your high school friends?

Many of them, yes. In fact, I have had five (yes, FIVE) sisters-in-law and one baby mama in my family that I went to high school with (only one remains currently). So you have to be nice to everyone because you never know who you'll end up related to at some point!

A lot of us still live in the same community, and now our kids are going to school or taking dance classes together. 

Do you have high school nightmares?

Yes! I can't remember my locker combination, I haven't been to math class for the entire term, and I don't know the dance choreography! 

Did you end up where you thought you would be now?

For the most part, yes, but in all honesty, as the teenage brain is prone to do, I didn't really think twenty years in the future. 

The Truth About Camp

When I was 13 years old, I went to a week-long church camp. I was put in a bunkhouse with about 20 girls. We were divided into two groups of 10 - each group having a camp counselor. 

My bunkmate was my friend, Rachael. I was also fortunate to be randomly put in the same group as my friend Lynsie and her bunkmate, Lindsey. Overall, camp might have been great, but we had some girls in our cabin that were mean. I won't go into all the details, but we spent those few days at camp worrying about these girls finding a reason to make fun of us after witnessing them being mean to some of the other girls. 

For one of the nights, we had to pack up our stuff and go on a short hike for an "overnighter." On the overnighter, we had to dig a latrine and set up tarps around it. We tied a log to two trees to serve as our "toilet seat," and then we got to spend 24 hours doing our business in the woods. 

I have always had some outdoor bathrooming anxiety. To this day, I am paranoid about being seen while going in the forest. I'm also worried about peeing all over myself and stepping in someone else's poop (which happened to me once while camping with my family). At camp, I was so scared that someone would walk in on me in the latrine that I could not go to the bathroom. I decided I was just going to have to hold it for those 24 hours. I thought I was going to make it, but I was very distraught to wake up in the middle of the night to my bladder releasing in my sleeping bag. 

Yup. I peed the bed at camp. 

I lay there for several minutes among the mean girls sleeping on a gigantic tarp trying to figure out what to do. No one could know! Those girls would rip me apart if they had any hint of what had happened. I had to resolve the problem by dark of night and never speak of it!

I was able to reach my backpack and discreetly change my clothes inside my sleeping bag without waking anyone up. I was very lucky to have not gotten very much pee in my bed - most of it was on my clothes. I rolled my pee jammies up just so and tucked them in my backpack. I tiptoed to the latrine to finish what I'd started and protected my deep, dark secret for the rest of camp, which required me to spend one more night sleeping in my pee bag and crossing my fingers that the mean girls wouldn't detect the smell. I was never more grateful to be home than I was after that camp. 

Recently I had a change in church assignments. For almost four years, I was the music leader for the children, and then in November of last year, I was asked to work with the teenage girls. The 13 year olds will be going to that same camp this summer. In a recent meeting with some other church leaders, they were talking about this camp and saying how wonderful it is and how the girls will make life-long friends and have such a good time. 

And I was like...

And I realized just how damaged I still am from that experience. 

So next year when my daughter has the chance to go, I'm going to be the most helicopterest mother you ever saw. I'll pack her Depends. I'll sneak her a satellite phone. I'll park out on the street with binoculars and a luggable loo.

Just lemme be.  

Accounting for the Accounting

The other day my son Googled me. I think the results blew his mind. I feel like Nicky has a lot of respect for me, which is a trait in him that I find so endearing, but he still has limited vision as to who I am as a person - being his mom and all! As he combed through the search results, he said things like:

- Mom! There’s an article written about you on the internet! It has our family picture! It’s not really you, though, right?

- Are you like a motivational speaker or something? No, that can’t be you!

- Wait! Did you study accounting? Why on earth would you study accounting? That’s not you, is it?

This all made me laugh as I explained to him that yes, there was once an article written about me online, I’ve given talks and presentations in lots of places, and yes! I did study accounting! 

Nicky knows I have a blog, but he doesn’t read it. Someday he probably will (but I’m glad to know he didn’t find it by Googling me). In case he ever ends up here and hasn’t figured out why I studied accounting, here is the story…

When I was a senior in high school, I really struggled with figuring out what to do after graduation. I narrowed my college choices down to two: Westminster College or LDS Business College - two very different schools. 

Westminster was my first choice, but the tuition was atrocious! I had a scholarship there, but it only covered a small fraction of the cost. I ended up switching to LDS Business College where my scholarship covered full tuition and books and even gave me the perk of being able to buy a few pencils from the book store. 

Of course, what ultimately helped me decide where to go to school was prayer, but I have to say, I had a hard time discerning the answer because my best friend was also going to LDSBC, and I wasn’t sure if I was being led to go to school there or if I was just doing what was easy. 

LDSBC was a quirky but exciting school. It has since been relocated and renamed, but when I went there, the college was in the historic Enos Wall Mansion in downtown Salt Lake City. 

You guys! I went to school in a mansion! And it was so cool! It had elegant staircases, servant passageways, an old elevator, fireplaces, a carriage house, and a ballroom (in addition to a bunch of boring areas that looked like traditional classrooms). 

(Side note: my grandma also went to LDSBC).

When I started at LDSBC, I had a few college credits already. My intention was to just get my associate’s in general studies and then decide what to do next. I was rather directionless. After my first semester, I had a feeling I should look into getting an accounting certificate. It made no sense to me as I had zero interest in accounting. In fact, it sounded so boring and so awful that only a legit nudge from the Lord could get me to even consider such a thing! The prompting was not subtle. I could not push it from my mind, so I had to act on it. 

I met with my academic advisor and found out that if I swapped a couple of elective credits for accounting classes, I could easily earn my certificate alongside my associate’s degree. So I did!

I ended up actually liking accounting. Surprisingly, it made sense to me! I thought accounting was math, but it was more like a form of organization. I did really well in my accounting classes and even excelled in my business law class!

Business law!!!

Me!!!

(Now, I don’t remember anything I learned in accounting or business law! It’s gone! All of it! The only thing I recall from business law was that my instructor one day said, “You can’t take sour Winder milk and mix it with fresh Winder milk and expect to still have fresh Winder milk!” I happened to work for Winder Dairy at the time, so I knew what was meant by "Winder milk," but to the majority of the students (90% of whom were from outside of Utah, many from other countries) “Winder milk” made no sense. They kept asking “What is a Winder?” Because to them, you had cow’s milk and goat’s milk, so apparently a Winder was something from which you could extract milk. Well, the teacher just kept ignoring their questions about Winder milk and saying, “It doesn’t matter! Just remember that you can’t get fresh Winder milk that way!” And I have no idea what that had to do with anything, so thank you, Higher Education). 

After I graduated from LDSBC, I didn't transfer to another school. I prayed about it and felt like I should wait (you can read more about how that turned out here).

A few years later, I was hired out of 26 applicants for a job in my local school district. One of the reasons I was selected was because I had an accounting certificate. I had to oversee the budgets for six different special education programs (among various other responsibilities that my education at LDSBC prepared me for). 

I didn't work at that job for very long, but while I was there, I put all the money I made in the bank (in response to another prompting). While all of this was happening, I was trying to have a baby and couldn't, so I thought I might be saving money for IVF or adoption. Instead, after a couple of years, we were blessed with Nicky, and the money I had put away was what allowed me to stay home and raise him. 

I'm now able to say, "Ah ha! That's why the Lord pushed me in that direction!" (I like when I get to see those things sooner rather than later, but there are plenty of life's whys that I'm still waiting to unfold). 

So for my son who asked, "Why accounting?" I didn't know it, but it was for you. 

Living the Dream

When I was a kid, I used to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory a lot. I'm not sure why, though, because I remember being really scared of Willy Wonka on the boat in the tunnel, and I was troubled by Augustus Gloop going up the chocolate pipe, and let's not even mention those oopma loompas! (I was also terrified of Dumbo, E.T., and Gremlins, but I watched those all the time, too, and even carried around a stuffed Gizmo). 

Anyway, from Willy Wonka, I developed two childhood dreams - neither of which had anything to do with going to a chocolate factory.

The first dream was to hang out in bed like Charlie's grandparents. I thought this looked so fun! I remember watching the movie and thinking that was the life - to just sit in bed all day foot to foot with three other people. 

WHAT?!?

I tell ya, Kid Britt was wiggety whack! 

I've since decided that this is no longer my dream. I'm also kind of mad at Grandpa Joe for being an invalid for years but suddenly being able to hop out of bed to go eat candy. That's pretty sketchy, Joe.

My other childhood dream from watching Willy Wonka was to stir laundry with a big paddle. 

I can't explain it. Here's a movie about a kid who gets to go to a chocolate factory full of treats beyond his wildest dreams, and four-year-old me is like, "This makes me want to stir a boiling vat of laundry with a big stick!"

Earlier this week I got to fulfill that dream. While I was setting up for my brother-in-law's funeral luncheon, I was putting table cloths on the tables, and a lot of them had stains. I went to the Relief Society closet to find more table cloths and found more and more with stains. I've helped with a few funerals over the past few months in my ward, and I've also borrowed the table cloths for personal use, so I feel like I've become very close to those table cloths and their stains - enough so that I could even tell you which stains were from the most recent event. 

Long story short, in looking at the stains, I wondered how many of them could be fixed with a little TLC, so I started hauling all the table cloths out to my van so I could take them home. Scotty has learned to just go with it and not ask too many questions, but I know in his mind, he was going, "Oh great... what is she doing now?"

I brought home 26 table cloths and spot treated them. Then that night, I put them in my bathtub and soaked them overnight in OxiClean white revive. 

Because of the large amount of table cloths, I had to find a big stirring stick, so I took my broom apart and used the broom handle. 

I stirred the table cloths around every hour or so and texted my sister-in-law that I was fulfilling my childhood dream!

Not sure what she though my childhood dream was... but I informed her of the inspiring laundry-stirring ways of Charlie Bucket and his mother, and she seemed mostly supportive. 

Anyway, I accidentally broke my broom handle, and now I know for next time that the wooden oar in our garage is probably a better option. 

I spent all day Tuesday washing and drying the table cloths, and then sorting them into "Relief Society Quality" and "Elders' Quorum Quality." Then I watched Hamilton whilst folding them. 

Full disclosure, at the time this photo was taken, I was just laying on the floor being lazy, but at least I folded some table cloths before I gave in. 

And thus my dream was fulfilled, and 26 table cloths are a little bit whiter, albeit not perfect, but the treatment did wonders! 

Twenty Years Ago: Memories from the 2002 Olympics

Twenty years ago, when I was a senior in high school, the Winter Olympics were held in Salt Lake City, Utah (I don’t like the fact that I now say “twenty years ago…” when referring to my senior year of high school). Our state spent years preparing for the event. Roads were rebuilt and widened, venues were constructed, hotels were erected - making me wonder, what happens to all of this after the Olympics?

I didn’t want the Olympics to come to Salt Lake. The idea terrified me. I was worried about our state becoming a target for terrorism, especially being a few short months after 9/11. I always told people I was leaving Utah during the Olympics, but alas, as a broke 18-year-old… I had nowhere to go. 

For security, our school had to be locked down for two weeks, and everyone had to file through one set of doors every morning. 

On the day the torch came through, the school turned a blind eye to absences so we could go see it. I snuck home to watch some of the footage on TV, and I remember seeing President Hinckley and Neal A. Maxwell carry the torch (other apostles did, too, but those are the two I remember the most). I'm pretty sure I also saw the torch come through my area in person, but my memory is a little foggy.

We had the opportunity as students to be taken by bus to some of the events during school. I didn’t go to any. I wondered if someday I would regret it, but I actually don't. I enjoyed watching everything on TV and seeing all the familiar sights of Utah while feeling safe and being warm and not standing in shoulder to shoulder crowds. 

Temporary Roots stores popped up in Salt Lake and Park City, and the hot item was the Olympic beret after Katie Couric wore one on the Today Show. People lined up for hours to get them.

Nowadays I get a kick out of seeing people still wearing the Olympic volunteer coats. During the Olympics, those coats were everywhere. Twenty years later, they still pop up every winter - blue and yellow being the most common. 

Despite my fears, my friend Michelle and I went downtown for the Olympics celebration. We had to wait in long security lines to get in. While I wasn't interested in attending the sporting events, I was glad I went downtown to experience the energy. There were parades and flags everywhere. The buildings downtown sported skyscraper size photos of Olympic athletes. The whole city had transformed into an Olympic wonderland. 

When I was in high school, I had a video camera that went everywhere with me. I remember getting out my camera and filming for about five seconds once we got into the Olympic celebration, and my camera died!

One of the exciting new features of downtown Salt Lake, built in anticipation of the Olympics, was the Gateway Mall. It was Utah's first open air mall. My uncle worked on the electrical for the Gateway, and I remember being so excited to go see its progress and then to go there when it opened. The Gateway had a dancing fountain - the "Olympic fountain." The feature, now commonplace, was supremely innovative at the time. I remember seeing it for the first time at night, dancing to Celine Dione, and being in awe at what it could do. I was also captivated by Galyan's - the sporting goods store with a rock wall inside! (Rock walls now? Commonplace. Galyan's now? Nonexistent).

The Gateway also had a new Megaplex movie theater, and for having been part of the construction of the Gateway, my uncle got free tickets to go see Lord of the Rings and let me tag along. 

(Sadly, the Gateway is a half-empty shell of a mall now, and I feel sad every time I see it because I remember how it was in its prime). 

At the Salt Lake Winter Games Apolo Anton Ohno was The Big Deal. I remember women swooning over him and his thick, wispy hair. 

I watched the fireworks for closing ceremonies from our patio. The Olympics were cool but also overwhelming, so I was pretty excited for them to go away so life could go back to normal. 

Probably the most significant thing for me, personally, about the Olympics was that Scotty wasn't here for it. He was in South Carolina serving his mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It would have been fun to have him here, but it was his time to serve the Lord, so I experienced the Olympics without my main squeeze. I sent him lots of photos and videos, though!

Now there's talk of the Olympics returning to Salt Lake in 2030 or 2034. I'm still on the "thanks, but no thanks" train. Once in my lifetime was more than enough! But if they do come back, I hope they have a trade-in program for all the people still wearing their 2002 coats!

If you were in Salt Lake for the Olympics, what memories do you have? And would you like to see the Olympics return to Utah?