If this doesn’t make your heart happy I don’t know what will

p.s.

me and lead singer have same haircut!!!

My friend here in Georgia, Jessie is having a baby tomorrow!!!  and so is my friend Kate in April!!!  and so is another lady in my ward.  I don’t know her name.  But she’s Brazilian. 

Sooo one time, when we first moved here we got invited over to the bishop’s house for dinner, and we found out they were also going to be there.  Her and her husband are full blooded Brazilians.  So Chad and I thought it would be cool to wear these Brazilian Soccer shirts over to dinner that he had got on his mission… in Brazil.  One team was a national team.  I don’t know their name.  It was a red  and black shirt.  The other team was also a national team.  It was a bright green and white shirt.  I wore the red and black shirt.  Chad wore the green one.  We thought they would be like really happy… or uber impressed.  or basically just really really happy that we were wearing these soccer shirts. 

well I thought that.  I thought they would grab us in big bear hugs and swing us around the living room and tears would start coming out of their eyes because they would feel some national pride and some oneness with us.  By the way these soccer shirts were huge.  Like mine came down to my knees.  and believe me it didn’t look cool, like how you can wear a dress over tight skinny jeans.  It looked huge and swarmy. 

anyway so we walk into the bishops house.  Which by the way is like really really nice.  Basically like an english manor… with fires going in the fireplaces, and a big sweet dog to greet you at the door, and its like this real fancy dinner.  and everyone is in nice dress clothes.  

 then Chad and I come traipsen through like we just came from a sports bar. (and I looked like I was possibly drunk) (because I was so excited that we were wearing these shirts) (I was excited because I knew the Brazilian couple would be so excited) Then they introduce us to the Brazilian couple and they were like “Hi” and I was like HI!!and everything… but they didn’t even notice our shirts.  So then I turned around to show them my back.  So they could see the big Brazilian emblem and all the Brazilian words.  But still they didn’t get it.  So I was just kept turning in circles trying to point to my back.  Finally Chad was like “Do you remember these teams from Brazil”  and they were like “No sorry”  and they were super nice and talked to us and it was all good but I feel so dumb.  Dubbly dumb because Chad had worn a second shirt under his jersy and so he took his off.  Well I didn’t go the second shirt route so I  had to wear my soccer dress all night.  :)

anyway my point is I think that lady is expecting too.  oh shoot maybe she isn’t.  I don’t know. 

my other point is I have two really good friends who are having babies.  One tomorrow.  Yay.  I love babies. 

and Kate’s baby girl in April.  Which is good.  Maybe she’ll ask me to be her birthing coach.  Its one of those things I think I could be good at.  That and taking 911 calls. 

P.S.  what is something you know that you would be good at, though you’ve never tried.  Like its just in you?

TO: You

FROM: Me

 some cute baby pictures

 I know this seems all crazy and all over the place.  But I’m trying a new site out that you can put in how many words you want to type as a goal (I put 500)  and how fast you want to write it in (I put 10 minutes)  I wrote 504 words in 7 minutes and 32 seconds.

 When I was 5 years old I ate some yogurt with granola on top.  We lived in a house in Liberty Utah.  It was yellow.  With Brown trim.  It had a long drive way that was graveled.  In the back yard was a large pasture with horses.  Our horses.  I remember sitting in the kitchen and my mom giving me a container full of yogurt with brown crunchy granola on top.  A while later, a day or so I got a raised rash on my stomach.  It was large and purple.  I showed my mom and she said it was probably from eating the yogurt.  I don’t know why she put the two and two together… maybe I had a reaction when I was a toddler from eating the same thing and she knew that.  From then on in grade school if a nurse or teacher asked me if I had an allergies I would answer “Yogurt with Granola on top”  I  have forever avoided yogurt with granola on top.  Sometimes I wished I had a real food allergy… then I discovered that I could burp by inhaling air when I was 7.  I think at the same time I discovered this I was eating a hot dog.  I put the two and two together and decided that I was now also allergic to hot dogs.  For years anytime I ate a hot dog I would make myself burp every now and then.  If anyone looked at me I would just explain that it was an allergic reaction.  When I was 12 right before I got diagnosed with cancer I ate a Flintstone push up pop.  After I ate it the strange purple rash came back all over my stomach.  I didn’t want to show my mom but I think I showed my sister Stephanie.  For some reason when I looked at this rash I took it as a sign that I was going to die.  I think this is why when I started getting sick I didn’t tell anyone for the longest time that I felt bad.  because I thought it was from eating the Flintstone Push up pop. That the flintstone push up pop was the start of the domino effect of me getting cancer.  I haven’t had a Flintstone push up pop since… or yogurt with granola on top.  Although when I go to McDonald’s I’m very tempted with their Fruit Parfaits.  I still eat hot dogs.  But only turkey ones.  because whenever I bite into a hot dog I remind myself that I’m probably biting into an ear, or a snout, or a little curly tail.  But the burping is cured.  So that’s good.

 do you have a food allergy

When I was in college I lived a really cool life.  I was as close to being as awesome as I would ever get.  It was like I reached my peak.  My moment in the sun.  My full potential.  Now I’m just a has been.   I’m like the 50 year old guitar player of a 80’s hair band.  The one who still has permed feathered hair but a big pot gut.   and the only people coming to my rock shows are ladies who wear jordache jeans and dream catcher earrings.  its been a hard life out here on the road I tell ya. 

I spend my days searching for discontinued Postum at the grocery store, and my nights reliving the glory days. 

“Oh the glory days…”  Strumming my guitar  (Okay I don’t want to pretend I’m a 50 year old hair band guy anymore)  (But ya’ll are more than welcome to still pretend you are wearing Jordache Jeans and dream catcher earrings!!!)  Now I want you to imagine me as kind of a mix between Jewel and Stevie Nicks…   like young and beautiful but also Edgy and Mysterious at the same time. 

So here’s a song that’s been wanting to be sung since the world begun.  (uh something that happened in 2000 while I was at work) 
I worked front desk at Fairfield Inn.  I spent many a hours making reservations, checking people in, and making up new recipes of what I could put together with the items the continental breakfast held.  (Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches, Peanut Butter and Jelly on English muffins, Peanut Butter and Jelly on Pop Tarts, Peanut Butter and Jelly on Krispy Kreme donuts) 
*TRUE STORY -  Wendy the night auditor was diagnosed with Diabetes one week after the Krispy Kreme shop on university ave in orem opened.  (They were right next door to us… they gave us free donuts for a month while they were in “Kitchen Test” mode)  Coincidence?  I don’t think so!
So one afternoon about 15 minutes before the end of my shift I got a horrible stomach ache.  It hurt so bad.  I have no idea what was going on (peanutbutterpeanutbutterpeanutbutter) in there.  So right as I’m in the worse pain in my life this awesome Ford Mustang pulls up outside the doors and out steps the most hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.  It was a cross between the guy from the “Diet Coke Break” commercials and a young Richard Gere. 

+

= smiley face

He comes into the lobby and flashes me amazing smile. My pain of course has disappeared as the adrenaline has now taken over and making me feel all warm and fuzzy.
“Hi” he says
“Hey” I say
“Can I get a room?” 
“Of course”
“Do you want to marry me”
“Yes!!!!” 
and then he carried me upstairs and over the thresh hold. all the housekeepers are waving towels above their heads and cheering… and then I place his hat on my head. 
ooops sorry… so I check him in and give him his key, and the run down of where every thing is… the pool is here, exercise room here, continental breakfast time is when… etc.   So he’s gone and in walks my coworker who’s starting the next shift.   Then for the next 15 minutes as I’m closing up my shift and sharing any new info with my coworker my tummy ache comes back.  I was DYING. My tummy  was starting to make noises.  The worse kind of Tummy noises… Brewing Noises.   I just had to get HOME!
Home was a 5 minute walk from Fairfield Inn.  Just go through the continental breakfast, through another set of doors, which led down a path, that was right next to the outside lounge area for the pool, then across the parking lot… then a road, then 3 flights of stairs..HOME!
I get through the breakfast area, I’m hurrying… trying not to run… out the doors, okay now I’m on the path that leads past the outside lounge area.  Oh my gosh I can’t even help it anymore…. but its the middle of the day.. on a Wednesday… the hotel has been very quiet.  So I just went with the flow.  I let out the grossest most disgusting gas in the history of mankind. but instantly I felt so much better…
“WHAT THE HELL?”  A deep voice interupts my “moment” 
I look over to my right. Right next to me… not more than 3 feet away from me on the other side of the gated fence of the pool lounge area I see him.  “Diet Coke Break” younger Richard Gere man laying on a lawn chair!!!   I looked at him,  he looked at me… I looked at him… he LOOKED at ME!  We were both in disbelief. He was probably in SHELL SHOCK!
and then I ran as FAST as I could across the parking lot, across the road, up the 3 flights of stairs!  I think I broke some sort of record. 

If there is a record for running away from hot guy after farting feet away from his head area? is there? 

the end

Happy Birthday Shellie!  I’m Shellie’s brother and I have access to Shellie’s blog as I helped her set it up.

Here’s a birthday treat for you.

Love, Austin on behalf of all of your friends and family

Remember this Post?

Well I have some great news.  This morning Chad and I went in to meet with Dallen’s teachers, therapists, and school principal.  Dallen has been improving so much that he now is getting promoted to regular Kindergarten.  As of January he will be in Miss Trampels class all day.  I am so proud of my little guy.  He works so hard at everything.  On his report card for this past quarter he got all 3’s and all  Satisfactories.  What he was graded on is what all kindergartners are graded on.

I am so happy.  and very grateful.  His teachers and therapists have been so great and I can’t thank them enough.  And for all of you that gave such great advice to me and wrote wonderful emails to me in support. 

Thank You.  With everything everyone said I was really able to push forward and look into a lot more options for Dallen, which in turn gave me the confidence to make some decisions, which is one reason why he is promoting up to Reg Kindergarten. 

Congratulations Dallen.  You are the sweetest boy and I’m proud that you are my son. 

Yesterday this conversation happened between Dallen and me. 

“Mom I’m so proud of you”

“Why”

“Because the house is so clean”

“You’re on top of the ball today Mom”

Then he ran up the stairs to go play.  and I just couldn’t stop crying.  Its hard to explain why.  But Dallen using these little phrases and knowing when to use them in the appropriate situation means so much to me. 

 oh and p.s. - my house is generally clean… but we have Chad’s parents in town for a week.  So it was *extra* clean yesterday!

I don’t know about you but sometimes I feel like David Archuletta.

Its true.

You know he like belts out this amazing song, while playing piano, at the same time looking like a Monchichi. 

Then everyone is like

“Oh Archie… You are just so good… we absofruitly love you to pieces…”  Then they pinch his cheeks and make goo goo baby sounds. 

and he like gets all bashful and is like

 ”Ah nah…ahhhh guys… giggle giggle… nah… ah shucksies thanks” 

Sometimes I just want to  flick him in the middle of the forehead REAL HARD and say,

“STOP IT!” 

“TAKE THE COMPLIMENTS LIKE A MAN”

I mean could you see David Cook saying things like:

“Oh… thanks… oh nah I’m not that good… ah you are too kind…giggle giggle giggly goo”

Yeah I can’t either.  He’s like “Thank You Man.  I appreciate it.”  No BS about it.  He owns it. 

So I have people in my life, relatives, friends, bloggy friends that appreciate and like my blog.  And for that honestly I thank you.  Because I absolutely love writing in my blog and sharing my life through it.  It is probably one of the things that keeps me from going catatonic at the end of the day. 

But when people say “Shellie you’ve got talent.”  “Shellie I can totally see your stories”  “I know I can count on your blog for a good laugh” 

I’m like “nah… ah… thanks… nah… oh shucksies… nah I’m not good”  because honestly I can’t own it.  I don’t know why other than the obvious reason that I feel if I say,

“Thank You” 

People will think.  “Shellie is an Rtard.  She’s so stuck up.  She thinks she’s better than me.  She thinks she’s so cool”  and then all of the sudden I’m getting hit with mud balls and rocks and I’m getting chased down and given a big massive wedgie.  But then when they pull up  on my underwear,  they all see its Winnie the Pooh underwear,  then they really start laughing.  They are laughing so hard that they have no desire to even terrorize me anymore. So they all walk off but then one of them (a little chubby kid in sweat pants) runs back real quick, and kicks me in my stomach real hard and then runs back to catch up with the group.  Where they all high five each other.

Then I’m just laying there doing the ugly moaning cry “ehhhhhhhh ehhhhhhh ehhhhhhh” I’m just a big mess.  of snot and slobber. 

Its really not pretty. 

Which is why I need someone to come and flick me in the head and say

“STOP IT”

“TAKE IT LIKE A MAN”

because frankly after the 2nd time Archie did the whole “nah… its not true… I’m not that good”  thing it just stopped being endearing.  Then the only people that liked him were 12 year olds and Grandma’s in nursing homes.  And as much as I like 12 year olds and Grandma’s…

 I know I need to stop being so scared and embarrassed that I have something that I’m good at. 

And that its okay to feel okay that you are good at something. 

I mean I might be shooting out into left field… but I bet its not just me that feel like this.  Do you guys ever feel like a David Archuletta?

I love  GAMES!  All of them.  

Board Games -Life, Monopoly, Settlers of Catan, Scrabble and Carcassonne. 

Dice Games- Yahtzee, Snarful, Bunco, and Craps. 

Card Games—> Mormon Bridge, Gin Rummy, Phase 10, War. 

and night games— Sardines, Tag,  Snipe Hunts. 

(Exnay on these games: 52 Card Pick up and Freeze Out)

One of my favorite all time games is Ticket to Ride.  We got it from Chad’s sister for Christmas 2 years ago.  I loved it so much that I went online and set up an acct so that I could play it with others across the world. 

If you don’t know about Ticket to Ride here’s the Dealio-

The board is a map of the U.S. (or Europe if you have that version)

First you collect Destination cards. Then you collect Train cards on your turn.  Either from the deck or from the pile.  When you’ve collected the right train cards for the track that you need to get from a certain city to another certain city you lay down your cards and lay down little trains to cover up the tracks.  When you’ve connected point A to point B… I.e.  all the little routes that take from say L.A. to NYC you get points.

But then there are others who try to take your routes and block you as they are also trying to get to other places on the map.

Okay so I got online and played it all the time.  It got really bad at one point. You know how when you play Tetris for a really really long time that even when you close your eyes you see pieces floating down and you move them around to make them fit? well…  It was kind of like that. 

 Except whenever I drove anywhere I thought about how I could get from point A to point B.  Like I could see the road I was driving on as the actual game board.  SERIOUSLY.  and I felt like I was in a little train.  It was sooo freaky.  I’d even have dreams about it. (Like kinda how I dreamed I made out with Harry Potter after reading books 1&2 in 2 days) 

The funny thing was that a lot of people that play TTR (Ticket to Ride for you muggles) is that there was a lot of Mormons.  They had screen names like “TruBlue” and “Cougarette” and “I’maMormon”  (my screen name was…  Shellie27) 

So when you’d get into a game there was an option to chat. 

TrueBlue- Hi

Shellie27- Hi GL  (Hi Good Luck) 

TrueBlue- Thx (Thanks)

Shellie27- YWNI (You will need it)

TrueBlue- ASL? (American Sign Language)

Shellie27- My son use to watch signing times?

TrueBlue- no where are you from?

Shellie27- Oh Georgia… let me guess you are from Utah?

TrueBlue-How did you know!!!

 and then I’d start just dishing out all my skills and cutting people like TrueBlue off left and right and basically making them Furious and they’d all respond like

“FREAK!”

“DangIT!”

“DurnIT!!!”

“EFFFFFFNO!”

and I’d be like

“Sorry Better luck Next time :)”

and they’d be like

“Go suck on an egg why dontchya”

It was seriously so fun.  I laughed all the way to TOP level and had tons of experience until one day my 6 month membership ran dry and I had no mo deniro’s to buy mo membership.  Now no one (eh hem CHAD) will play with me because I’m just that good.  It really is rather depressing.

Its probably how Micheal Jordan feels when he sees some neighbor guys playing BeeBall outside.  So he goes to join them, and they see him coming and they hurry and chuck the basketball into some trees and pretend like they were all standing around shootin the breeze.  Its like HE LOVES THE GAME and HE’s SO GOOD… but no one will let him feel the glory days anymore… so he just has to go home and watch Space Jam over and over and over just so that he can sleep at night. 

Thats exactly what it feel like.

When my sister Stephanie had just had her son Jaustin I would go up to Salt Lake to babysit him every now and then.  I lived in Orem and I didn’t have a car so I would take the bus.  I would walk from my place to a UVSC bus stop, give the driver $1.50 and ask for a transfer ticket.  See the bus I would get on at UVSC would take me to the Trax station in Sandy.  Then I would take a Trax train up to 3300 south and then take another bus that would drop me off 2 blocks away from my sister’s place.  

First off can I just say I love riding buses.  They are just so magical.  Second off can I also add that Trax train is also very mystical.  Where else can you put on your earphones and blast Jewel and look out the window forlorn and sadly beautiful?   

So I rode the bus into Salt Lake County… Got off in Sandy… got on Trax… looked out the window and looked mysterious…. looked over at a guy who was sketching in some book (also trying to do the mysterious thing)

He looked at me and we made  eye contact and then looked away from each other fast.  Him back to fiercely sketching something in his sketch book. (me????)  I looked back out the window and tried to force a big poetic tear out of one of my eyes.  

Anywasy so I got out at 3300 south and waited at the bus stop for the next bus.  Except I couldn’t just stand there… I had to look cool… So I decided to stand there… my earphones in… my beanie smashed down around my ears… my turquoise and purple hand me down Columbia ski Jacket from Jen Beardall zipped up to right underneath my chin…  

Like this

As the cars whizzed past me on State Street and 33rd I know they were looking out and thinking

“Who in THE WORLD is that Beautiful Ballerina?”  and several of them almost got in an accident because clearly I probably took their breath away. 

But as they passed I would just keeping looking straight forward with total concentration.  A serious ballerina does not break her form.

Then the bus pulled up and I gracefully got on and delicately sat in my seat.  I crossed my legs and flexed my feet.  Point toes… now flex… Point toes… now flex… now roll the foot around… loosen up those ankles.  Re cross legs to work the other foot.  Point Flex Point Flex… Rooooll..

Then the bus got to my stop and I did this (see below) as I stepped off the first step and landed so effortlessly and gracefully on the ground.

(Soooo beautiful)

(Okay I just got off the bus regular… no leaping… but I did try to walk with my feet out for a little bit until the bus had pulled away and was out of view :)

the end.