One Night. Four Parties. Boosh.

I have a roomate I have neglected. When she came to survey this place, i told her if she moved in I would take her around to all the single stuff. Well with Chili's being so demanding and with all my other secret stuff i don't talk about on here, I have sort of been lacking as a good roomate. Anyways, I told her that we should hang out tonight, we went to eat at Fat Burger, then saw 21 (loved it, loved the hot lead character, he's hot) and then went to a bar-b-que. That is when the party count begins. 

Ben Richardson's House (mesa)  

As we pull up, I am loving this retro house. I notice both the Steves are oogling woman on the two couches. The oogling makes me feel a bit umcomfortable. I chat with men I went to High School with about mutual friends who have turned lesbian and the joys of status reports on facebook. I enjoy shrimp wrapped in bacon. I get annoyed with a boy/man who I met a month earlier, (when he was on a Mesa fact finding mission out from DC, because my friend Rob gave this fool my number, because he is 34 and I am the oldest girl Rob knows). This boy/man lives here now, and I hear him asking my roomate, and other woman where they are from and proceeds to play the "do you know the Naomi Johnson family from Fresno" or the "Johnathan Martain from Pocatello" game. This game always annoyed me, and yet never to this extent. Blar. Jen and I decide to move onto the next event. Roomate wants to stay, maybe she sees something I don't. 

Ben Decker's house (mesa)

His parents are out of town, so he has people over. I was watching Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo a few weeks ago and she gives some advice to a "would be matched with a millionaire" girl with short curly hair. She said, "get extentions and wear your hair straight". Now I am noticing every woman (except 2 with wild curly locks) are wearing their hair long and straight. I am now embarrassed for my sleek, straight locks (I got my hair dyed and cut today and Vette did it straight). I am one of them. I learned the secret, long, straight hair is the look, I am just like the rest. OH the AGONY. I meet and exchange clever banter with a sexy little dentist who has so much confidence I am almost drawn in...he stands up and immediately I am rocked back into reality. Too Short. 

Aubreys Birthday Party (chandler)

I show up, there are people dancing in the living room, there are girls crying in the bedroom cause of their men problems, there is ping pong in the garage. I find my way to a couch and plant myself down. I meet Matt. Heaven help me, he seems semi-normal. He is 21. We eat M and M's and Cheeze Its . He talks about diareah a lot (home for only 3 months from the mission). I try to relate and say,  "I had parasites on my mission". He seems pleased with my contributions to the conversation and continues to make jokes/talk seriously about diareahs. And yet... the little girl next to us is obviously so into him she can barely control herself and her desire to talk about the diareahs. 

Edgar's Party (tempe)

I work at the Chili's. Edgar works there. Jeanea my roomate works at Chili's. She calls and tells me about Edgars party as I am leaving Aubrey's. I head over. I am introduced to all the Yuma boys, I am asked 12 times if I want tequilla shots, 7 times for a beer and 2 times for seven minutes in heaven. I find out the men who have been coming onto me at Chili's are coming onto the other co-worker woman too. And I was feeling all special from the attention. Shoot. I go home alone. No Yuma lovers for me. 

That is that. 4 parties... Do I feel like a success? Honestly, I know how to party hop and work a room, and yet I just want to sit on the couch, eat a snack and watch the randomness transpire. 

Not Gonna Do it...

I decided against the Tri aka Half-iron man in Ocean Side Cali. Oh well. It is not like I am a wuss or anything. I just have alot on my plate right now. And hard-core training took a bit of a back seat. So if you were looking forward to pics of me in my wet suit, you are just gonna have to wait it out.

Now, Yesterday I subbed at my old stomping ground, Brimhall Jr. High. It is a bit surreal going back to the place you taught for a few years. Anyways, I had the opportunity to observe many of my students had gone through puberty and/or decided to become full on goth kids. It is quite alarming to see your sweet little, clean cut student. Now has piercings everywhere and died black hair and some sort of dog collar on. I feel for his parents. Anyways I subbed 3 eighth grade classes which were all about 1/3 full of my old students. Also many of my kids stopped by to visit me. These are the things they said.

1. Why you not teaching here no more, did they fire you?

2. You coming back to teach here, tell them you can take Mr. Cosseboom's (the man I was subbing for place)

3. You dress better, remember when I used to tell you to dress better, I used to tell you all the time. -Yvonne.

4. Do you still drink those veggie shakes that stunk up our classroom? -Crystal G.

5. Maybe those veggie shakes actually worked, because you look better. -Crystal W.

6. So wait, you chose to do work as a sub now, not a teacher, were we that bad? -Landon.

7. We thought you said, you would never be a teacher again, not in a million years what happend?-Ammon.

8. You are supposed to be in Reno, why you back? -10 kids.

9. How did you get your hair to not be black anymore, it looks better now. -Yvonne.

So I guess I looked pretty bad before. Shoot, thanks kids for reminding me. It was fun to be back. I felt a bit guilty that i only remembered half my students names. I found that many members of the staff were a bit burned out, and were looking for a change. This was my day.

Tired and Sick....

I feel like the Universe is changing. Ok here is the deal. I got a race and i might just do it, even though my preparation is totally lacking. Um it is a tri in the ocean. So I bought this wet suit (about 5 months ago), but I lied to the guy who i ordered it from. I ordered it over the phone. So basically I said I was about 20 pounds skinnier than I am ( i had all intentions of loosing the goodness, but I got a case of the depressions and the hungries always come with it, so those 20 they still here). So yesterday I tried it on for the first time. IT is a tight squeeze I ain't gonna lie. Today I thought, I need to swim in that before I drive all the way to Cali for this thing. It is still a tight squeeze. About 20 seconds after getting the old woman in the locker room to zip me up, I started to get major body clostraphobia. My body wanted to be free.

About 5 minutes later I sort of got woozy but I suffered through it. 8 hours later, my stomach was still upset. All because of a too tight wet suit. I am still racing, nothing can stop me. Well I'm at 28 percent sure.

The moral of this story is, 'don't lie about your weight when getting a wet suit, it's just not necessary, for reals'.

Stop the Maddness...

Remember in Highschool, when the big fad was to eat a ton of carbs but no fats. I distinctly remember the weight lifting teacher at KJH, Mrs. Pipes teaching us about fat grams, and calories and how we need to be in control of our bodies. Anyways, I remember eating 2 bagles, a bag of pretzels, and baked potatoes because they were low in fat. Hmmm.

Today I subbed at Skyline. I did my student teaching there about 3 years ago. I like to go back because I adored one of the teachers there, and I still like talking to him about books we are reading and politics. Anyways, when I got there the office worker asked me if I would take over a PE class on my prep. Me being ever the happy worker bee (LOL) said, "oh course I will".

It was sort of a trip being back in the weight lifting room. The teacher had left a routine of lunges, squats, ab-work etc. After giving the class over to a student helper, I got bored. I started doing some squats myself. The thing is about every girl in that class found fault in my technique. "Put you butt out", "go lower, like you're pooping", "push your boobs out, put your shoulders back", all of this advise was mixed with giggles and whispers. And yet, I feel like they appriciated my effort. I even found myself saying things like, "girls take care of your bodies, you don't want to have the struggles of old ladies like me", they all nodded in agreement.

I wonder if these girls squeeze that fat out of every french fry, or dab their pizza with a napkin until all traces of oil are gone... because that is what we learned in weight training, surely not to stick your booty out with the squats. I guess weight training has come a long way. I think that is good.

Easter.

I hope that everyone had a beautiful day. I enjoyed being with family and friends. On this special day I am even more grateful for my Savior Jesus Christ. I am hopeful because he atoned for all men, including me, which means we can all become more pure, more clean, and more whole. As we all endure the pains and heartaches of life, we can find peace and rest in the Lord.

Socially Awkward.

Tonight I looked good. I guess when i say that i should post a pic of my outfit that was really quite amazing. I have began to bring back a trend called, "Baby Doll dressess with jeans underneath and you wear a shirt too, so that it is modest". Anyways, the Event was a kickball 5 stake activity. Are you feeling the power of that. Cause dang i sure wasn't. Yet there was someone I wanted to see. We had met at a party the week earlier. I adore him already. He is divorced. I am a sucker for divorced guys. I love em.

This one is classy. He teaches me things while we converse (which is really for a substantial amount of time). He sticks around, even when weird men are tired of waiting for him to leave so they simply approach anyways. He winks sometimes, indicating that we have inside jokes. He smiles warmly. Makes funny banter, stares into my eyes (maybe it's me staring, i am a bit intense), touches my arm and doesn't shy away when I touch his back, etc. and yet the man cannot ask for my number. Why? I like to think it is due to a factor beyond my control, simply out of my hands. The answer my mom gave to me when the boys didn't ask me to dance at the 14 and up stake dance, "jo, he's just intimidated by you".

Oh Well, I guess my intimidating nature, which includes my beauty, intellect, wisdom from age, and charisma are all impeding any loves from developing. I wonder if I will use that "the boys are just intimidated by you" line when one of my daughters is not getting her much deserved loves. You know that is the best, 'Mama help your daughter's self esteem' line of all time. We all gonna rock it....even though it's crap, mama can't say, "girl your eyes are just too close together", or "girl you dumb as a box of rocks", Mama gotta say "intimidation by your beauty and splendor and charm". Shoot.

Rejection

After all the positive reinforcement, validation if you will, that I was a welcome member to any law school student body (thank you Baptist's of North Carolina, Philly and Idaho), I got my first taste of bitter rejection. Oh ASU, I am sorry I only took woman studies and philosophy classes from you and got C's in them. I am sorry I left you with no explanation when I decided to become a teacher and thought it would be more effective to transfer to Ottawa University. I am sorry I go to Sun Devil Kayak Club and don't pay my dues regularly. Yet this blow was harsh. I wanted to be a devil, even if it was only sometimes. Yes I did waffle, I wanted adventure, I wanted something new and yet you were a logical choice. My residence is near you. I would not pay out of state tuition and baby Olivia (my niece) needs me here to be her mentor of classiness. And yet, sometimes life and the admissions committee have other plans.

Alas, now the choice is made, the chord has been cut. It's over Jodi. The door is shut. You move on. Liberated but a little dejected. All in all I am a bit relieved. I can finally get "out" there. I know the grass is not always greener, but i know that mixing it up is good for a life. Maybe Philly will make me the best lawyer and help give me opportunities to grow in other areas. Maybe it will be somewhere else. I gots a few options and that my friends is better than no options.

Never Ending Story....

I used to want to be the princess girl from Never Ending Story, you know the one who is in the white room, when the world gets destroyed by the nothing. And Sebastian has to give her a new name, and he chooses his dead mothers name. I don't think I still understand that movie. Maybe i need to watch it now, as my mind is fully developed. I know it is very philosophical and if anyone wants to discuss what the nothing is, with me, we could do that.

I also wanted to be Rainbow Bright, Punky Brewster, Pippi Long Stalkings, the girl on Saturdays Warrior has to choose between Todd and Elder Kesler and sings "he's just a friend like those I count in dozens, a kind unselfish boy who understands my pain". Funny I never met a kind, unselfish boy who understands my pain. Well I take that back, i have met dozens of them, they just ended up adding to the forementioned pain.

Let's see I also wanted to be Shee-ra Warrior Princess, I wanted to be a Barbie, but my mom was very careful to only buy me brunette barbies thanks Mom. I also wanted to be the girl named Andy on Goonies who makes out with the older brother, and Mikey (always a greedy one). I also wanted to be the robot girl 'Vicky' on small wonder, I always had a thing for that Jamie. And I wanted to be GEM. I wonder if all the other little girls ages 27-32 are like me, and went though a "wishing I was a princess/mormon musical girl/orphan red haired/animated rock star" phase like I did. I wonder if that makes us more alike. We all had the same Icons/heros/ideals. Who did you want to be like or just be? Dig into the archives.

This is the family... Mom hit a mile stone, so we ate Italian and conversated. I Love this group of people so much, and we are all so attractive, thank goodness.

Paul O. (my old best friend, and partner in thrift store treasure hunting, napstering, Anasazi dreaming and he is my 3rd cousin) sent me this article.

Some Young Women May Be Confusing "Confidence" With Carnality [Party Girls]

via Jezebel by Dodai on 3/17/08

It's Spring Break in America, and you know what that means... Millions of college students are getting wasted. And, more often than not, this is the time that young women go from concentrating on history or communications to studying Sex Appeal 101. LA Times columnist Megham Daum went to Cancun a few years ago, to research an article; she writes: "The raunchy contests and general debauchery were something that these women had prepared for, almost as though for a final exam. They'd logged hours at the gym, in tanning booths and at body wax salons. They'd save up money for breast implants and then timed the surgery so they'd be healed by spring break." The interesting thing is that the women claimed to be doing it for their self-esteem.

"One word I heard again and again, oddly, was 'confidence,'" writes Daum."'If I can be considered hot here, I'll be hot anywhere,' a rather morose woman sitting on a bar stool in a bikini and high heels told me. 'I'm here to get confident.'"

As they psyched themselves up for wet T-shirt contests or debated whether a given guy was worth flirting with, a lot of women told me that they saw spring break as the proving ground for their attractiveness.

Here's where things get tricky. Is a woman who participates in the drunken hook-ups, wet T-shirt contests, body shots and other Spring Break events just celebrating being young, free and proud of her body? Or is she tragically falling victim to the age-old standard, that of a woman's worth being directly tied to her appearance?

Confidence has become an easy catchall-excuse for everything from dyeing hair blonde to nose jobs and breast implants. We're living in a world with so much pop psychology and issues related to self esteem that it's almost as if, as long as you feel better, whatever you're doing to get there is okay! But what of confidence gained through intelligence, talent, skill or bravery? Isn't there intense pride in working with what you've got (small nose, obesity gene, flat chest, mousy brown hair)?

And, seeing as how most of these women are working with liquid courage, aka alcohol: What's the difference between being "confident" on Spring Break and being plain-old drunk and promiscuous?

Jodi Responds...

I love the last line of the above article. "What's the difference between being "confident" on Spring Break and being plain-old drunk and promiscuous?" It seems to me that lately there is no right and wrong. There is simply hot and not hot. Thats it. If dudes desire you(not in a wholesome way either), than good job, you have a life, you have self-esteem, etc. If dudes don't desire you, that you my friend are out of luck. I have seen my little co-workers share pictures they took of their girlfriends naked on their cell phones, I have heard the way they talk about woman who come into the restaurant and what they would love to do with them, I have been to Rocky Point, and have heard the 'wet t-shirt contest' going on, as we walked down the beach, I have watch MTV and VH1 reality dating shows, I have watched woman compare themselves to others, I have compared myself to others, and blamed my place in the hierarchy of dating success on my looks only, I have listened to boyfriends (more than one) tell me "if only you would work out jo, and be hotter, than I would be more into you"... you know, it's sick, all of it.

That being said, Yes, I want to be tight in all the right places. It sure is competitive out there. You girls who have been out of the game, have no idea the sort of competition I face. Also, I am trying to return to my racing greatness. But I think Paul, who knows me pretty well, thinks that maybe I should not still be caring about this stuff. He listened to it enough back when. And I think he is right. I promise to work on other areas, (spiritual, service, cooking, cleaning, dancing, saving monies, writing my books, and becoming the best law girl ever). Thanks Pauly.

Before pics...

you know when you are starting a new diet/workout plan. And you know that this is it. This is the one. You are changing your lifestyle, your body, basically your destiny. Now it is time for the documentation. Hmmm. I have a lot of documentation, aka before pics. Now the question is, and this is an idea i have been toying with. If the body changes dramatically, and one goes from soft in all the wrong places to tight in all the right ones, is it ok to post a classy before and after pic on ones blog. I am just not sure. Or are your pics going to be scooped up by google's data base and whenever someone googles, 'chunky, white lady', is my before pic going to appear. I don't know if I want that. Have I become such a validation whore (an ex used that phrase, yep) that I need to blog it and wait for the positive reinforcement. Or is it just 'sharing' something I am proud of to the world. Now don't get me wrong, no after pics have been taken yet. I just feel like this is the 'one'. Oh I googled 'chunky, white lady' to get the pics above.

Application Status

2 yeses (a fantastic scholarship offer), a spot on a wait list and a whole lot of not knowing. Basically checking my emails and the mailbox all the time.

Real Danger

I just read this book, it took me just under a day, and it was worth it. It is by a Washington insider Stephen M. Studdert who worked closely with 3 of our Presidents. I recommend it to everybody, especially if you too, are concerned about the dire straights our country is in. It talks about 10 Dangers we face in as members of the US and planet Earth and what we can do to protect ourselves. This is real information that we need to know, or at least updated and reminded about. If you read it, tell me so we can talk about it. I know you can buy it off Amazon.

Nothing....

I feel this responsibility to post, although i don't know what to say. It's not like anything fantastic is going on, but i will just throw abit out there, and hope it is well received. Remember earlier when i wrote about the attractive man who i met at Chili's and we went and saw 10,000 BC. Well he is everything I ever wanted in a man, except I hate, cannot stress this enough, I hate his voice. It is whiny, like a little boys only he is a 6'5 attractive as can be man. I don't know why voices mean so much, or if they don't it's just I can't handle this one. Shoot.

I have also been thinking about the past. I think that is what one does when nothing that great is going on in the present. But its not in a longing for it way. You see along time ago, back in college i fell in love with 2 men. They were best friends. I wrote them both on their missions. Anyways, at one point in time (and that point in time was my mission break, when i came home for parraistes) i spent a weekend with them both. To make a long story short, i was trying to choose, which one i wanted to be with, i couldn't choose. Well I chose to go back on my mission and spend 4 months in DC (that is another blog). Anyways I have always gone back to that decision. In my mind, these were the 2 greatest guys in the world. And i dropped the ball by not choosing.

Flash forward. I saw that my best friends Starr and Cameo had put pictures up of us on their blogs. And i decided to go through the pictures from college to find some to post on my blog. I ended up finding a few pictures of the boys mentioned above. And wouldn't you know it, I wasn't attracted to them at all ( maybe it's good, i am not attracted to 20 year olds) but the thing is, I am free. I kept using that as a scape goat or a way to be hard on myself when everyone elses Mormon dreams come true, and mine don't. I would think, "Jo you really dropped the ball with that one or with him", be it 10 years or 1 year ago, I would revisit a choice and think, "OH if only". I think I am one of those woman, who was super hard on herself for what she did or didn't do, not realizing that I always did what I wanted ( i just questioned it later, when things didn't go the way i wanted, always the grass is greener gal), I always lived the life, Jodi had to live, do i wish it was way cooler in some ways, hell yeah. Point is "oh well".

So what, men I have loved (and i have loved many since Ricks college, thank goodness) are gonna love me or not. Most are going to choose (and have) other women to share their lives with, woman who are skinnier or fatter than me, woman who have been married before and left their first husbands for no good reason, woman who are beauty schoolers, woman who are doctors, woman who are 19. That is their choice.

My choice, is to blog about it until I feel better, just kdding but it is true. My choice is to do what i am supposed to be doing (my mom will love that one) and I can try to stop being grass is greener all the time too. I just wish that tall drink of water didn't have the whiny voice, it would make things a bit better.

So this is a new leaf, a new chapter. No more longing for the past, no more if only's, and what could have been's... I guess i did have something to say. I always do.

Blond on the Beach aka Once Bitten, Twice Shy.

Today has been rough. I somehow hit a wall at chillis. And the wall i hit was me getting scheduled during the spring break. I got to the book to late, and others had asked for the time off. So I am going to miss the Goodman/Rocky Pointe Adventure. I want to relive some of these adventures with you...just so you can know how important Rocky Pointe aka Puerto Penasco Mexico has been in my life.

BLOND ON THE BEACH... You know those woman who sabatoge everything good and amazing in their lives. I have a way of doing that. I was 19. It was my first year of college. I was at Ricks. My family had decided to go to Rocky Pointe for the first time ever. I had heard about Rocky Pointe from sooo many people. It was where the cool families and cool kids (whose moms let them go with other families) went for Spring Break. I was not going to miss this for the world. I had an obstacle standing in my way. My job at the plasma center. And wouldn't you know it, I asked for the time off. Yet, others with greater foresight than I, had already asked for it off. So I got denied. Yet, those who knew me back then, know that a little thing such as "the best job a student could have in Rexburg aka an employee at the plasma center" would not stand in my way of being at Rocky Pointe for Spring Break. I packed my things, got a flight and headed out. had Starr call me in sick. She was annoyed at her task and claimed I had Bochalism. In addition to just being in Mexico, I also decided I wanted to be "Blond on the Beach". I used this phrase often, sliding it into conversations whenever I could. Like, "what are you doing for Spring Break Jodi", I would respond, "I'm going to be blond on the beach".

Now for some reason, I didn't know about high lights. I had watched my mom dye her hair with Nice and Easy. I had died my hair bright red, dark brown, emo black... and somehow I missed the memo that lightening hair, aka making it "blond on the beach" is another process. To make a long story short I just mixed up the solution and saturated my whole head of hair with it (Starr did it actually). My roots, or the area closest to my head (where the heat of one's scalp activates the bleach) was white and the other areas were a streaky blond/orange/tangerine mess. I didn't know about toner, so I just proceeded as/is. Yikes. However, I played it cool. I was going to be blond on the beach(albeit, sort of a Tangerine/white on the scalpie blond) My mom was mortified when they picked me up at the airport with my 7-toned, moppy hair. When she said, "jod, what did you do?", My response was not as chipper and sort of faded into mummbles, "i wanted to be blond on the beach".

CARDON COME BACK AND LOVE ME AGAIN....

We went to Denver to meet my boyfriends family. Towards the end of the trip, we both pretty much knew it was over, but I have a habit of when the love is dying, and things look bleak, and theres really no chance in hell that I belong with this man, and we both are starting to despise the other for the reasons people begin to despise the other (one loves too much and the other loves too little, and nothing makes people hate each other more, than staying in something so unequally balanced, once that divide is apparent). What I like to do at this point, is to drag it out and hold on tighter, to try harder and attempt to ignite any smoking ashes that are left after the blaze of a love affair had grown cold.

This had all transpired. We had our final "talk" and I was cool with it. My friends were leaving to Rocky Pointe in the morning, I thought, "just the ticket to get me over this kid, i'll be in the sun, i'll eat fish taco's, I will burn my skin and talk broken Spanish, this is what I need". To make a long story short. I should never, never, ever be on the road when the little heart been recently demolished. Just shouldn't. I cried on the beach, I had water works going strong at Flavio's (the taco joint). I mourned the loss of my beloved as Mexican's tried to sell me a piece of rice with my name on it. I thought, "what if I put Cardon's name on it, and give it to him or maybe a grain of rice that says 'J+C= love,' maybe that would be the ticket, to winning his heart. I broke out in tears that night as fireworks were ablaze, thinking, "Cardon would really enjoy these fireworks, i wish he were here". Rocky Pointe couldn't heal my heart, but those fish taco's and orange soda eased the pain just a bit.

Today...I am not quitting Chilli's to go to Rocky Pointe (but I thought about it), nor am I dying my hair a lighter pigment. I have so many more stories about the adventures there. Those are for another day. Rocky Pointe, is where friendships and loves had been made and lost. It is where I slept in a slip for an RV while suffering because my skin was crsispy, blistered and raw (on day 1, four more to go). Oh tribute to you Puerto Penasco.... you are like our sister city. We love you.

Weird things at the Chilis

Ok so yesterday I worked a double. Not before going to Sonic at 9 am to get a kids meal (apple juice, corn dog and tater tots) then heading to Mitch's to watch the Finale of Project Runway (it was Tivo'd) (I still wouldn't wear any of those outfits except Romies, come on people Christian's two-toned feather dress, please).

Ok and with out further delay the weird things that happened at Chili's...

1. My friend/co-workers truck got stolen right out of the parking lot (dinner shift).

2. An old lady slipped and fell in the parking lot. I was trying to check out with the manager in the office when another manager contacted her, over the walkie/talkie/head gear system they use to tell her to call 911. The lady denined assistance. I would too seeing what my granny has gone through (lunch shift).

3. One of the bussers a Mexican was talking to me about the work, he told me at least it's clean work, and informed me he had just gotten out of jail. I think he stole a 7 dollar cash tip off one of my tables. I am just going to let this one role. I think I have learned my lesson, and will get to those cash tips before he busses. Then he asked me if I smoke the marijuana, I said is Spanish, "Soy mormona y no quiero hacer cosas asi". He then proceeded to tell me how there were some missionaries who used to stop by and visit and play ex box with him...yep an unknown truth, missionaries do have weaknessess (dinner).

4. A boy who I had seen before at church activities(and let's be honest I thought was attractive) was there in the section next to mine. I talked it up with him and his 3 friends, he ended up getting my number and asked if I wanted to go see 10,000 BC with him. We did. It was funny. I told you I was a man magnent (dinner).

5. A table of 3 girls (all the same age), a younger girl and two parents came in. I recognized one of the girls, so on the second stop at their table I asked, "you look familiar, did you go to Brimhall (where I used to teach)". She said, "yeah you were our basketball coach", I apologized immediately ( i had never played basketball before and I thought I had coached these girls as 7th graders). Later I went back to their table and asked if they were in 9th grade. Turns out they were in 11th, my mind worked quick, then I remembered. They had tried out for the Freshman team and I had cut them. Awkward. I had to apologize again. The best part is we were all laughing so much, it was sort of awkward, funny, interesting (dinner).

6. As I was checking out the boss, said, "Jodi, you are too high strung here, you are a perfectionist, I worry your not going to be with us very long because you will burn out of being a server" then he added a compliment with sheer surprise in his voice, "but people seem to like you here". Thats Funny.

You were right about the ending, it didn't make a difference.

I guess I used to be a picky orderer. Hmmm, we would go out, i like Meg Ryan (in when Harry met Sally) would want things on the side, with the dressing changed, etc. Now being at Chili's I realize I was bad, but man alive I am not the worst. Seriously.

 Now back in the day, when we were at the peak of our pickiness, and also at the peak of our socializing, let's be honest were being pulled in a million directions. I think it was one day at Rosa's after I had ordered a salad with the dressing on the side, extra salsa and a change of side and she had ordered a diet coke with light ice, I turned to her and said, 'you just want it how you want it' and she responded, 'and you don't want to do what you don't want to do'. Hmmm, I think some boy was asking AK out and she was not feeling it. But you see sometimes you can't get rid of someone who is persistently persuing you (thank you Ken C.). 

Anyways somehow that became our Mantra... or life philosophy or maybe just our way of getting, or at least asking for what we wanted. You want it how you want it, and you don't want to do what you don't want to do (i promise we use this statement at most in PG rated conversations. ) It applies to everything, and has been a comfort when justifying why I don't want to go out with the guy who gives my roomate the Heebie Jeebies ( her words for real),why I will walk out of a movie if it is lame, why I still order an extra side of ranch, honey mustard, blue cheese and I need Tabasco ( i don't mix em together, i just love my sauces) and why I guess, I am still single (well that and also the men I have loved live by the exact same philosophy...shoot). 

19 year olds, 45 year old men, a man on crutches and a mustache stalker at institute.

I am sure a hot item lately. Not to toot my own horn or anything but man am I a man magnent. First a co-worker says he wants to date me. Sometimes he will touch my back tenderly in order to push me aside from the order computer at Chillis. Sometimes he will ask me, "do you have to be Mormon?" and I will say "Yes". And then he will demand, "why thats stupid". He says he is confused because I am so much older than him, and he has never felt this way about a much older woman, then he says oh yeah my teacher in 8th grade was intriguing also. ".... YIKES.

Yes I do have a very dormant Mingles Profile. I don't pay for it, but once in awhile I will check in to see who has sent me a smile. Wouldn't you know it, 45 year old men lovin, this girl....YIKES.

On Valentines Day, when i was delivering flowers a man on crutches was outside my second to last delivery place. A man who resembled a beach boy or my elementary school PE teacher ( i recently subbed Mr. Viola's reading class, he switched) was outside. He immediately held the door for me as I was coming in, and then when I came out he asked if he bought flowers for me, could we go out that night. I said, "so sorry I got to work at Chilli's", as I scurried back to the Element he called, "which Chilli's, I will come find you", I said, "um just Chilli's" as I slammed and locked the door....YIKES.

So we finally did it, Lindsey (my roomate) and I actually went to institute, early enough to listen to the lesson. I have blogged about it before, it used to be the burial ground for all my realationship failures. Now I am (un)lucky to see one ex. That being said, Institute is like Meca for all over 27's/Mormon kids. It's true. About 700+ all together. This night some enormous, small town, intense eye contact, 37 (if I had to guess) year old, mustache cladden man had his eye on someone (and it was Lindsey I hope). He watched us like a hawk. I couldn't stop myself to look down our row to see if he was watching. Sure enough, every time he was there, gazing down our row. Even when I didn't look I could feel his warm, hot gaze as it slowly traveled up from my.... (JK, i am not that kind of writer). Point is...YIKES.

It's all about sifting the wheats from the tares. It's all about enjoying the madness of it all. It's all about becoming a recluse and living off the land in Alaska.... maybe.

And the truth is I miss you....

Firsts. A boy bought me flowers, yep and it made me feel very uncomfortable.

I made over a hundred bucks on one shift at chilli's (honestly why don't I dj more?)

I subbed sixth graders and it was awesome.

I almost told my church crush how I felt (that would feel like a first because I haven't enjoyed someone in so long, like i enjoy him).

I almost didn't get annoyed during "RS good minute" (between the announcements and "missionary moment") when 3 new girls are engaged and all their dreams are coming true, i mean i don't want to be with their scraggly men, i just wish i could somehow get that"goofy, so in love, the world is awesome, and I am the luckiest girl in the world" vibe going on. Shucks.

I called AJ and asked all my questions about law school that I have wanted to know and just haven't asked yet. Just a half hour conversation and I am feeling soooo confident about my choice to go, now just onto the acceptance part....Shoot.

An Aniversary Haiku for my broken finger that happned last year at Lehi Days Rodeo

Spred Eagle shows one of the fingers is soooo much chunkier than the others surrounding it. Can you find the chunky finger?
Yep could there be any doubt this was more than a little sprain? I doubted till' a friend of mine made me go to Urgent care a few days after the rodeo. Spiral Fracture.
This is me trying to straigten the thing out. Now the funny thing is that some girls in the ward wanted me to be the third member of their team this year for steer dressing. I would have done it but my insurance company will no longer cover any types of breaks including pins, screws, plates or surgery. And that is for any bone in my body. You gotta love insurance.


Panties on a cow

tackle and slide them on quick

so sorry finger

If Only, If Only, If Only

This weekend was interesting. It was slumber party weekend. This weekend was the girls reunion. By the time I got done with Chilli's, it was 12 and it took me about 30 minutes to drive to Auburn's very cute house. Problem was half the girls had already left. Only 4 were slumbering. Only 4 were still there. These four were pregnant. All were so pregnant that the births will all be within the next 6 weeks I think. Now as much as everyone thinks "Jodi wouldn't like to hang out with a bunch of Preg girls and talk about birthing, nursing, lack of sexxing, healing of the tissues, the lack of comfort through the whole process, etc." It was sort of great.

You see singles talk about single stuff. To be honest I am sick and tired of the single stuff. I don't want to talk about my weekend (well I am blogging it) with a dude I met at a party who has bad breath and is socially awkward, but let's be honest is the hottest thing in the room. I don't want to hear "find a mate in 2008, try online in 2009, get with a friend in 2010 or wait till heaven 2011" (I made up the last 2 tonight, I am always the clever one). I don't want to worry about my age in this whole "just how low can I go, as far as ages thing". I don't want to date men who still live their parents, but have a plan (granted I have been there, I remember... but I can still hate).

After all this and 10,000 more conversations that seem to engulf our single culture, a little, "married/pregnant venting, humor, insight was nice. Now it's like whenever I leave Mesa, I miss it but a little VaCa lets me appriciate what I have. And what I have is LDS Mingles, a healed heart, a string of unsuccessful dates, skinny jeans and fat jeans, an arsenal of small talk, conversation starters, get the hell out of here excuses, and make the best of the time with this randomites positive affirmations... that make my time here oh so tolerable.