Wednesday, November 18, 2009
My sister Wendy has nominated me for a Kreativ Blogger award. She's the creative one so I'm not so sure what she's talking about:) but I thank her anyway.
Here are the rules -
1) Copy the pretty picture and post it on your blog.
2) Thank the person that gave it to you and link to their blog.
3) Write 7 things about yourself we don't know.
- I'm a people watcher - not in the creepy peeping Tom way - but in the - I like to observe others and notice human behavior - way. When I was young and my family went shopping at the mall, my dad and I would spend our time on a bench just watching people as they passed. We would make up stories about their lives - sometimes trying to be right and sometimes just coming up with a story. I still like to do that.
- I love mixing foods together, but if they are on the same plate - I don't like the food to touch (yeah I know that doesn't make sense) - I love eating grapes and strawberries together, mashed potatoes and corn and apples and string cheese. Speaking of food - I HATE yogurt and pudding and anything that has a creamy texture to it.
- When I was at my semester in Nauvoo I tried to learn how to play the violin - I rocked Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star - but honestly was just reminded that I have no musical abilities . . . besides my amazingly fantastic singing voice that is (as Marcos often tells me).
- Michael McClean once pushed me to get to someone and I, to this very day, have a vendetta against him!
- When I was 10, my older cousin Emily once tricked me into believing that she was 27 (she was probably 14 or 15). I don't know why but I was so awestruck by that age and wished I could be 27 and cool like her. It's odd to me to actually be 27.
- I think that in a previous life I must have been a detective - - - I love, love, love crime shows - I can't get enough! I can usually figure out the plot and deduce the ending - it must be all the Ghostwriter I watched as a kid!
- I have a severe hatred for some movies from my youth - Labyrinth, Beetle Juice, Never ending story, ET, anything Charlie Brown (don't get me started on the teacher) . I can't handle them!!!!
There you have it folks, now for the rest of the rules -
4) Choose 7 other bloggers to pass the award to.
5) Link to those 7 other bloggers.
6) Notify your 7 bloggers.
1 - Michelle - it's private but I want to hear some good stuff from you:)
2 - Ariel and Dave - you rock and I can't wait to hear what you got! (7 individual things from each of you, of course!)
3 - Abby - another private blog but oh dearest cousin -I know you got some good ones!
4 - Rose - you are wonderful!
5 - Emily - my dear cousin who is above mentioned - come through for me friend and no worries - I got those recipes coming:)
6 - Talecia - let's hear it, my friend!
7 - Rahndi - I love and miss you.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Just thought I'd mention a little thought I've been having - - - - I've been hearing a lot of this around me - "That store is Ri-freakin-diculos!!" "That applesauce was De-freakin-licious"!! - Got to love it right!! I was thinking how fun it would be to talk just like that and only like that - -for example . . . when I answer the phone at work I can say, "He-freakin-llo St-freakin-ate Fa-freakin-rm In-freaking-surance this is M-freakin-ia, how can I he-freakin-lp you?!"
or . . .
just try to find the best words it would work with - - - -
Now you try - -let's see what you g-freakin-ot!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Ahh yes, my friends, the pita exacts its revenge. For those of you who are regular readers of my oh so interesting life tales on this blog, you will know that besides run-on sentences you can find a series of rants. A few rants back I so happened to talk about the ridiculous uses that pita makers were saying you could do with their product – said pitas must have taken offence, for this story I am about to tell is an offensive strike in a war I never knew I was fighting– until now (or it could just be a tale of my stupidity and awkwardness - you decide).
I arrived at work early but without morning nutrients. I had been running late and consequently didn’t have the time for the most needed meal of the day (according to most nutritionist and the CNN health page). The fridge only contained water, pop, and in the far back right corner . . . my last little pita. I threw it into the toaster oven (a new contraption to Chard kids) and made my way up front to open things up. I decided to make a quick call to a Windshield repair place. Five minutes later, not a care in the world, I was on hold listening to an elevator music type no- words medley of “Hit me Baby One more time” and “Bye, Bye, Bye” when a distant ping brought me back to reality. A reality that told me I had better get to the break room. I dropped the phone just as a neighbor was coming in the door and ran to the back. The pita was black as could be. I flipped the door down and used my fingernails to scrape it onto the counter – to my surprise it burst into flames! Not tiny little match flames but a foot or higher flames that were spreading as I stood there in a panic. Even though on the same counter, as the now fire encompassed pita, was a sink, that wasn’t my first thought. It went more like this - - - oh crap, ummm paper towel – no that would be stupid – I’m totally getting fired – ahhh – okay not a grease fire so water, right? Yeah water - - - I reached over flipped on the water and started cupping out water with my hands and hitting the pita – smoke went everywhere! Dennis, the neighbor that had come in was looking for my boss who was (luckily for me) out of town, had followed me back to the break room and was proceeding to tell me that I must have burned something. He was right about that as I opened the back door praying the smoke alarms would not go off – that would top things off.
I walked him out to the front as he jokingly asked me if I wanted him to leave the door open - umm yeah thanks. Still with my heart beating a mile a minute I sat at my desk, only to hear, “Mia . . Mia . . .Mia” – oh yeah, I forgot I was on the phone . .
Pita – you may have won this battle but the WAR IS ON - - - - -
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
I had many interesting experiences this past weekend. One of those happened early Sunday morning and it has left me contemplating. I drove to my parent's so that we could all enjoy conference together. I winded my way through the canyon enjoying the rain as it pounded down around me, not really thinking about much. I felt peace and a sense of renewal. My mind wandered to planning out what my day would be - we would enjoy breakfast, listen to conference, play with Samuel and Mason - - - and then I was slammed by the thought, "If the rain clears up maybe I can walk the boys over and we can say hi to Norma." I had forgotten.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
"Life is not measured by the moments we take,
but by the moments that take our breath away."
This is false! I have had a vendetta against this phrase from the moment I laid eyes upon it. Yes, I know, it's meant to be a cutesy play on words and to describe those amazing moments that life throws our way but honestly how many times has life sincerely taken your breath away? If that is what measured life or kept me alive . . . I would be dead. When I moved into Michelle's house this phrase had been left in vinyl lettering on the wall and I never took it down. It has sat there on it's high horse, next to the ceiling, taunting every move I make. Today I decide to take my freedom back! Let the catharsis begin! I say to this sign as I strip it from my wall, "you are FALSE sign! Life IS measured by the breaths I take! It is NOT measured by the moments that take my breath away!"
Ahhhhh - feel better all ready.
Friday, September 18, 2009
I love that you came into Gabby's life and in that I gained a sister - I was surrounded by brothers all my life and you will never know how grateful I am to call you hermana!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Speaking of classy . . . that reminds me of an incident that took place the other night. I was walking across campus to my car from my night class and walked in front of the Browning Arts Center. It was a buzz with the energy of dressed up old people and puberty stricken middle school -ers. I thought it was an odd combination but I should have known. As I walked, I conversed with myself about the possibility of asking someone what was going on – just ask nicely – no big deal – oh never mind, it doesn’t matter – a little curiosity never hurt anyone – come on (and so forth). So I got my courage up and as another group of geriatric socialites made there way passed me I decided I was going to ask, “Excuse me sir, what is going on tonight?” (super nice right? I even added the “sir”). To which he replied, glaring down at me as if I had asked if he had been alive when Lincoln was president, “What!?!? Why the symphony, of course!!!!” Huffing angrily passed me, as if I was a non cultured bum, he continued in to enjoy the sy-MPH-ony. Hmmh, I thought, on my way back to the car, if he only knew who he was talking to. I’m as cultured as the next person. I love the arts, I’ve been to the Smithsonian, I’ve been to the symphony. Hey, I even like to listen to the classical music radio station as I drive around – it makes me feel superior to the other drivers on the road (sadly, my superiority lasts for a short while because I look around and realize I am driving a Pontiac with a leaky roof and a turn signal that never turns off – but none the less).
Now, if I ever see that man again, I can add one more thing to my list of what makes me just as classy and sophisticated as he is . . . I eat ice cream in a pita pocket!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Just call me Bourne, Jason Bourne. A new dawn is awakening and I . . . I am the new dark night of espionage. Oh, do I have a story to tell . . .
I came home tonight from a lovely dinner with Gabby and Marcela. I pulled into my usual spot and sat. I sat thinking about all that seems to be swirling around in my mind lately. I finally got out to make a call and when I was done, to my horror, my keys were not in my pocket. I stood frozen in the driveway and instantly new of the mistake that I made again - - - 4th time in 3 months - - - keys locked away firmly in my car. After calls to 24/7 locksmith’s and finding the going rate at $80.00 and an hour wait, I sat on my front porch and cried. Not just tear-up cry but full on crying so loud I though the neighbors would come out to see what poor creature could make such a wounded cry. How could I do this again – Michelle wont be home for hours – How could I be so foolish – why, why, why! (Seriously, just a tad of the emotionally overdramatic)
Then, all of a sudden I thought – Why in the world are you crying? What is that solving? I stood up and thought - - - all of my detective TV show and action movie watching must be good for something! I took two bobby pins out of my head and began to attack the front door lock. It can’t be that hard – I have seen it million of times on TV – push in, turn, twist – something’s gotta give – wait, what was that? someone’s coming. Just at that moment a jogger went by as I stood perfectly still in the darkened doorframe. I realized that wasn’t working so I went to the side door and combined my bobby pins with my second elusive espionage tool . . . Jamba Juice gift card. I slide and pushed and pulled to no avail. There I was, on bended knee with bobby pins and a Jamba juice card – wow. Next, it was the back sliding door. Again, nothing. Back to the side door – this has gotta work! I never, in a million years would have believed it, had I not heard the “click” myself. Suddenly there I was – inside the house . . . and laughing. I had done it.
Hollywood – here I come.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
If only it would have rained yesterday, it would have been my perfect kind of day. It was beautifully overcast and at times the sky threatened to bestow the earth with it's tears but alas, it never came through. I went to visit my parents in the afternoon. Someone was mowing out back as I made my way across the front lawn and through the door. The house was quiet and dark as I made my way through the rooms looking for my mom. I glanced into my old room and then into my parents, followed by the room that Marcos and Mario can both now claim. The sheets were off all the beds and I smiled. It's amazing that little things, like sheets off a bed, have the power to bring back whole years of a person's life. I was hit with such emotion that I was a child again.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The other day I was driving home from work and witnessed a peculiar event. I was stopped at an intersection and happened to be watching the man who was trying to make a left hand turn. He was patiently waiting for his turn, so patiently in fact, that his lips soon fell upon the cool metal of his one of a kind harmonica. I was taken aback. Waiting to make a left hand turn had never struck me as the perfect time to get “blues-y” and jam with your harmonica, but hey – when the mood hits, it hits.It actually was something that made me smile. I, and the countless others who might have been watching could have thought that it was odd but this gentleman was content. He was in harmony with his life and who he was that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought, he was going to play his music. I admired that and maybe more than I want to admit it – I envied that. I don’t believe that there has ever been a time where I didn’t worry or wonder what others thought of me. I have even, at times, taken it to the extreme and placed all my worth on what everyone, including random strangers I pass on the street, might think of me. It led me to the conclusion that there is so much out of harmony in my life, in my mind. I have struggled the last year to try and discover where my place is and how to be comfortable being me and honestly I have been failing. I guess that is why when I see individuals who are who they are, regardless of anything else, I find hope that with time and work I too can achieve that sense of self. And hey, maybe it starts with me learning how to play the harmonica – any world-class teachers out there?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
I long for motherhood. I think from even before my first memories I longed to be a mother.
I have thought a lot recently about longing and hope and disappointment. Part of this human struggle we call life, is facing the contradictions that seep into out hearts as joys and pains. We all have these contradictions in some form or another – no one is exempt and we can’t get out of living without them. I pass hundreds of people daily but somehow I forget that their pains and sorrows are as real as mine. Why is that? I don’t have all the answers, but I do believe it goes beyond our own selfishness into something deeper, maybe something that takes time to fully understand and grasp. I know that I’m not there yet.
While I might not fully grasp the sorrows that are embedded deep into the heart of those that pass me by I do know about one sorrow that has been mine – longing. Motherhood, to me, is sacred. I have a profound love for the little ones that call me Aunt or Tia – Samuel, Mason and Ethan. They are bright lights in a world of darkness and bring hope to the hopeless, as all children do. But I am not their mother – they have those valiant women they are lucky enough to call mother who I know they will praise forever and for that I am grateful. I am grateful to witness the love that Marcela and Wendy show for such choice spirits and I only hope that if I am granted the chance to be a mother I would follow in their loving footsteps.
There are many loving individuals that would say that I don’t have to have children to be a mother but I believe that they are wrong. Words like that are often said to comfort and tell people that while they might not have had the chance to experience giving birth or adopting a child they have indeed impacted the lives of the children that they know. Those are kind words that are often true and I would gladly accept them in reference to my being a good Aunt, cousin, friend or teacher, but in my humble opinion we only have one Mother. My mother means more to me than there are words to express and with all the hope that I have, I want one day to be for someone what she has been for me. In that wish is the hope that one day I will hear a child’s voice call out for mother and know that they are talking to me . . .
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
So, I've moved to Ogden with my friend Michelle. Details to come because right now I am too tired:)
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
One would think there was no connection between gorillas and hinges but oh how wrong they would be. The connection is me and my Friday. Gabby called me friday morning and asked if I would watch Samu while they went to the eye doctor. Of course I did and we had a great morning. Come noon and lunchtime I knew that we might have a little trouble because for those of you who don't know the great Samu, he is not the biggest fan of eating - especially if there are tempting things to play with all around. After a give and take conversation I finally got Samuel to want to eat something but then the bigger problem came in what he wanted to eat . . . "Gorilla". I had NO idea what in the world Gorilla was. I kept trying to get him to describe what it was but all he kept saying was, "Mia it's gorILLA - GORilla - GORILLA". We made our way into the kitchen to see if he could point out what it was but again we had no luck in finding the mysterious Gorilla, what we did find is what would be percieved as a big clue if you were anyone else but clueless me - -the Quaker man. He found the Quaker man in the pantry and kept saying, "There's the man - Gorilla has the man", but still I could not decifer his code. Gabby happened to show up right at that moment and they had to leave and I forgot to ask what in the world Gorilla was. The frustrating conversation with Samuel came rushing back when I was talking to my mother on the phone and I finally asked - "What in the world is Gorilla?", I told her the story and almost instantly she said - - "Gorilla, hmmm - could it be Granola?" - - - - -Ahhhhhh! I can't beleive that the idea that it could be Granola NEVER occured to me. Gabby confirmed it later and I laughed and laughed - what a Kid!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Have you ever stopped and looked around at your life and found yourself wondering, "Wait, how did I get here?". I have recently, and I have to say it's a little unsettling. It's hard to see while amidst everyday living how a little turning off the course can lead you somewhere that you never thought possible and that you never wanted to be. It happens, I believe, to all of us at some point or another and the longer that we wait to change our course, the harder it becomes to do so. I have been putting off writing lately because I have felt that my life has stayed stagnant and that there really wasn't anything consequential to add to this blog world. I have thought to myself, " I have school and work and they mostly stay the same so what is there really to say?"- in thinking that I limited the fact that anything that we feel and say, if it means something to us, is of value.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
my personal favorite - "Annie in the Sink"