This is a test. This is only a test.

I've decided that planning a wedding is a lot like being in school. For me, the first two weeks of the semester were completely overwhelming because it felt like I had to do all of the projects and write all of the papers right away. But inevitably I'd realize that I had the whole semester and everything was going to be just fine. I also remember that constant small nagging feeling that I should be doing homework or studying whenever I took a break. And I remember counting down the days until my last semester ended--I couldn't wait to be done and move on with life.

When I got engaged, it felt like I had to plan it all right away because there was so little time and so much to do. But we've worked at it little by little, and now we've got most of the planning done. There is a constant nagging feeling that we should be doing wedding stuff rather than taking a night off to watch a movie. And we've had a countdown going since 80 or so days out (down to 41 now). The only difference is, I'm really excited for the final.

Men are that they might have joy

Several years ago when I was living in Provo, I had a conversation with a girl who had gotten engaged to her boyfriend after two months. I remember her saying that she had sworn she would never ever ever be one of those girls, but when it's right, it's right. As I walked away from that conversation, I shook my head in pity for the crazy girl and swore to myself I would never ever ever be one of those girls.

I've had to break that promise to myself. Because when it's right, it's right. And I will be the first to admit I'm crazy. So if posts here are even more sparse than usual for the next few months, it's because I'm planning a wedding.

Why I love my family

So last night I finally reached my family sometime around 8 (well, 9 for them). Apparently they had been out and weren't just ignoring me. The first request was that I get on Skype so we could video chat. I explained that I wasn't at home and Skype was out of the question. So they put me on speaker so I could hear everyone at home and my brother in Idaho who was on Skype. My mom then explained that we were going to play Balderdash as a family. How does that work when half of the players aren't in the room? It's not as complicated as you may think, but it's close. The brother on Skype would hold up his answers to the camera, and the person collecting answers would turn the screen so no one else could see. Since I was only audio, I could really only vote. After one round, we realized my sister was missing, so we called her on a cell phone to include her in the insanity. It was one of the best games of Balderdash I've ever played. Ever. My family is the best.

Dear Santa Claus, part 3

I have just received my shipment of the good guy to date. Knowing the high demand and short supply, I had just prepared myself for a long, difficult wait. But then he appeared from amongst the guys I already knew. I wasn't expecting that at all. So kudos, Santa. You managed to surprise me with someone even better than I was hoping for. Thank you.

The Cure

The Cure
by Ginger Andrews

Lying around all day
with some strange new deep blue
weekend funk, I'm not really asleep
when my sister calls
to say she's just hung up
from talking with Aunt Bertha
who is 89 and ill but managing
to take care of Uncle Frank
who is completely bed ridden.
Aunt Bert says
it's snowing there in Arkansas,
on Catfish Lane, and she hasn't been
able to walk out to their mailbox.
She's been suffering
from a bad case of the mulleygrubs.
The cure for the mulleygrubs,
she tells my sister,
is to get up and bake a cake.
If that doesn't do it, put on a red dress.


I skipped baking a cake and went straight for the red dress. It worked.

Timing

"In all the important decisions in our lives, what is most important is to do the right thing. Second, and only slightly behind the first, is to do the right thing at the right time. People who do the right thing at the wrong time can be frustrated and ineffective. They can even be confused about whether they made the right choice when what was wrong was not their choice but their timing." --Dallin H. Oaks

I have found myself feeling frustrated with my life recently. I wanted something different, but I didn't know what exactly I wanted. I still don't know. But I'm making peace with not knowing, taking baby steps towards what I do know, and learning to be patient.

I highly recommend the whole talk by Elder Oaks, found here.

Things I want to do this year

See the poppy fields in late March/early April.

Go camping in Yosemite. I'm thinking sometime in August.

Visit the gardens at the Huntington Library.

Visit the main Getty Museum (did the Villa last year).

Do a session at the San Diego Temple.

Maybe visit San Francisco, if I can afford it and if I can find a good weekend to go.

If anyone would like to join me for any of this, let me know. Adventures are always better with friends.

Mindy's Musical Mood Alert Chart

Green = just chillin'; Norah Jones, Jack Johnson, Chris Botti
Yellow = get this party started; random running mixes, whatever's on the radio
Orange = stressed out; classical, Mormon Tabernacle Choir
Red = do NOT mess with me right now; Muse, Dashboard Confessional, "teenage angst music"

I had Muse cranked up loud enough to wake the dead on the way home tonight. You have been warned.

Dear Boys,

You're idiots.

Love, Mindy

In sickness and in health

I am not a drinker, so the only time anyone asks to see my ID is when I'm going through airport security or a zealous cashier wants to make sure it's really me buying Doritos at Ralphs. But I've been carded three times in the past week or so because I bought various cold medicines. Every time I think, "Do I look like I'm trying to start a meth lab?" I know the poor teenagers behind the register can't help it; the machines won't continue working without a swipe from my ID. I still hate being made to feel like I'm suspected of something sinister when all I want is my nose to stop running and my cough to stop. I haven't read the health care bill, but I think we should all write to our congresspeople to put an end to this practice. And if the cops come to check up on me, I have a trashcan full of Kleenex as evidence of my innocence.

Since I've had the cough for over a week and it's not really getting better, I had two people in unrelated conversations suggest that I go see a doctor about it before it becomes bronchitis. "After all, why else do you have health insurance?" Good point. And since I have had respiratory infections that lasted forever and turned nasty, I decided to visit my local walk-in clinic (someday I will find a primary care physician and make real appointments. Today is not that day). The doctor said I probably have what everybody else seems to have and gave me a prescription for antibiotics, cough syrup, and steroids to repair the damage the coughing has already done. I thanked her and headed to CVS. The first time the pharmacist rang me up, my total was $118. We both kind of blinked at the number, then she asked if I had insurance. Uh...yeah. Why didn't you ask for it before? The second total was $27. Tonight I am going to say an extra prayer of thanks that I have a job with health coverage. And then hope the codine cough syrup knocks me out for the night.

Multiple Choice:

"Is there a reason you didn't come to a complete stop at the stop sign back there?"

a. Because I'm in a hurry to get to work to get this day over with so I can get to the good stuff tonight.

b. Because I didn't see you hiding in that parking lot.

c. No.

Maybe I should have tried crying.

Dear Santa Claus again

Thank you for the safe and sick-free travel. I know the sick-free part wasn't easy after my friends got sick just before I left, so I appreciate it. Thank you also for the snow. Can I have this much every year?


I know demand is high for good guys (all my friends want one too). I can only assume that this means they are on back order. Please send mine along when they become available again.

Happy New Year!

Dear Santa Claus

How have you been? Did you have a nice summer? How is your wife? I have been extra good this year, so I have a few special requests of what I want for Christmas.

1. Safe holiday travel with no missed layovers and no getting sick before I fly.

2. Snow for Christmas so I can go sledding.

3. A good guy to date.*

4. A fisheye lens, a new computer with better processing speeds, Photoshop, graded filters for shooting landscapes, and an external flash unit.

All I want is what is what I have coming to me. All I want is my fair share.





* I realize this one doesn't exist. Maybe world peace instead?

And the waiting is the hardest part

I realized something in the past week or so. Being optimistic about the future and having the patience to wait for that bright future are two totally different things. Also, life isn't fair. But as my dad always said, "Nobody said anything about life being fair. But it's worth it."

Shouldn't you be in the other lane?

I'm a terrible backseat driver. Just last night, I had to hold my tongue so I didn't tell a friend I've known for years how to get to my house. She definitely knows where I live and needs no assistance from me. Today as I drove up that same road, I had an epiphany.

When I offer you directions or helpful suggestions while you are driving, it's not because I think you're an idiot who doesn't know where you're going. You're an idiot because you aren't driving the way I would drive.

Living in a Beach Boys song

A few weeks ago I was bored and browsing photography contest websites. I found one that I considered entering, but I ran out of time to compile/take pictures and I was too chicken to enter. But I've been thinking about it ever since. The contest theme was Homeland--where you live now, not necessarily where you were born. So here's what I would have entered and why.

When I was eight years old, my dad bought a cassette tape of Endless Summer by the Beach Boys. I loved it. My siblings and I would bring our tape player out and blast "Surfin' Safari" as we roller skated in the driveway. And even though I only knew the "inside outside U.S.A." part of the chorus of "Surfin U.S.A.", I sang along with gusto.

A few years ago I decided I was going to learn the real chorus. As I read the lyrics, I discovered that they were listing surfing beaches. Not only that, I had been to many of those beaches, or at least knew where they were and had driven past in the last year or so. I was living in a Beach Boys song.

In a nutshell, that's what makes this place so special to me. We do have an endless summer, with 80-degree days in December and sunshine almost every day. I've always loved the ocean, and now I can be at the beach with my toes in the sand in 10 minutes. I love the craziness of the beach on a big summer weekend. But more than that, I love the quieter months when I can enjoy the waves without the crowds. That's why I love my homeland.

Lessons Learned in Europe

My sister is a rock. She kept me from completely panicking on more than one occasion.
I do not react well to cigarette smoke.
Guidebooks are just opinions.
Don't fly Ryanair out of Ciampiano.
Spaniards are very enthusiastic people.
Three museums in one day is kind of insane, but doable.
You can get by just fine by pointing at menu items. Hand gestures work too.
The Pantheon and Eiffel Tower really do exist and are just as cool as you imagine they are.
A pear and two hot rolls don't count as breakfast and lunch.
Game shows are funnier if you don't understand them.
Maps are a good thing.
I don't know enough about history, art, music, or anything, really.
Food is better in its native country.
I like European chocolate, Gaudi, and Strauss.
Jet lag is crazy. Tylenol PM helps.
My sister and I look like sisters.
Metros and buses are awesome. Why don't we use them more here?
The world is an amazing place and I can't wait to see more.

A Realization

Ever since I graduated from college, I've been in the process of becoming a grown up. Getting a real job. Insuring my own car. Having my own cell phone plan. Paying bills like cable and gas. Working on my birthday. Planning trips to Europe.

For some reason this trip has stressed me out considerably. I want it to go well. No, I want everything to be perfect, but I know that won't happen, so I'll settle for it going well. My sister, who I'm taking the trip with, has been busy with school and such, and we decided that it would be easier if everything were in my name anyways. So I bought the plane tickets and booked the hotels. All that grown up activity has made me weary of being a grown up.

Tonight I'm packing and stressing about packing too much or too little and making lists of things to do tomorrow (get cash, convert cash to Euros, buy power adapter, sort out credit card, mail a package to my mom, pay all bills...). I took a break for yogurt with a friend. I said I was tired of being a grown up. He said that it's better than the alternative (and he would know). And I realized something: it's not being a grown up that I'm tired of. I like the freedom and the money and the accountability of it. I'm tired of being a grown up alone.

Hey, Honey! What's the Latest Buzz?

About a month ago, I heard a strange buzzing noise at work. I was in the office by myself that morning, so there was no one else to notice. There were some grounds crew guys using leaf blowers, so I assumed that's what I heard and wrote it off.

But the next day, it was back. Louder. And the next day. It wasn't a constant buzzing noise; just every once in a while. Enough to break my concentration and really annoy me. After about two weeks of that, I couldn't handle it any more. I felt a little silly complaining to the receptionist to have her complain to the powers that be about something so simple as an annoying buzzing, but it was loud enough that I could hear it above the music coming through my headphones. Too loud. My office mate has been watching all the seasons of Lost, so her theory was that it was the Others coming to get us. I had thought it was a little lost bee, but bees don't live that long.

Turns out I was sort of right. The next time the noise happened, I climbed up on the desk and payed attention. When the noise ended, something long, black, and yellow crawled out of a space in the corner where the window frame and wall meet. I emailed the receptionist again, this time telling her what was making the noise. She said they were going to send someone out to spray for the nasty critters.

Trouble is, they didn't go away. We could still hear them, building their nest, throwing wild rave parties... it got old. Friday, at the risk of becoming annoying myself for always complaining, I asked one more time if we could have someone come out. I even volunteered to show them where the bugs were getting in. Turns out they had sprayed, but they didn't have the right stuff to plug the hole, so the bugs got back in. So this time, they sprayed and filled the hole properly.

If I hear buzzing on Monday, I'm tearing open the wall myself. It will not be pretty.

Sometimes the Hardest Thing and the Right Thing Are the Same

Last week, I got in my car Wednesday morning to go to work. I was already running a bit late (because I got up late, because I stayed up late...the story of my life). I piled my cousin, her tennis stuff, and myself in the car and was greeted by the empty light once the car was on. That stupid little light had been on the night before too, but I was too tired to do anything about it. So I pulled into the 76 on the corner to put a few bucks' worth in (the 76, while convenient, is overpriced). But then I discovered that I had left my wallet in another bag at home. I returned home, got my wallet, and returned to the corner gas station. This whole process added 15 minutes to my morning. Not the end of the world, but enough to really frustrate me for the rest of the day.

I told my dad about the whole thing while talking to my family on Sunday. He said "Well, look at it this way: you found out your wallet wasn't there when you were only a few blocks from home and still had enough gas to go back to get it. Had you tried to get farther down the road or to work, you would have been stranded with no wallet and no gas."

Sometimes things happen that seem like the worst thing ever. You get frustrated, upset, emotional. But given time and perspective, you see that maybe it's not so bad after all. Maybe this bad thing actually saved you from a worse thing. You just have to wait for that perspective to come.