Most of you know that I grew up in a little town in the east-central part of Pennsylvania. Good ol' Mifflinville. Sitting along the east shore of the Susquehanna River between Berwick and Bloomsburg, it was situated in the perfect location. The old, round, Appalachian mountains, covered in their dense hardwoods, on both sides of the Susquehanna River valley. To the north and east is the tough coal region. To the south and west was Pennsylvania farm country. We had the best of both worlds. We were descendants of all types of people with one thing in common, hard working, honest Americans.
Mifflinville in the '70's and '80's was the greatest place to have been raised. Chic and Barb built a modest home on John Street in '73. At that time, it was still a dirt road with no one living that far out. My grandparents owned the land that my parents bought which made it nice for us. Leon and Norma Stout, my maternal grandparents, lived directly behind us on Mary Street. We lived on a small hill overlooking John Street down below and across the street were Seesholtz's "pick your own" strawberry fields. There was nothing to either side of the house for about a quarter mile. Royce Kline's farm was to the southeast and the Eveland's were the same distance to the northwest.
As young kids, my brothers, Chuck, and Chris and I spent many hours exploring the area. Since we were really young when we moved in (Chuck 7, me 4 , and Chris 1) we grew up in the woods. The creek across the street was our favorite place to play. We would leave the house at the first light and not come home until our mom was yelling for us, covered in mud, dirt, pine sap....you name it, we had it on us.
As time went on, my parents decided to buy a few acres next to our home. Chuck saved his money and bought a 1973 Yamaha LT 100 endoro. Soon after, Chris and I bought a go-kart. The field soon became a makeshift racetrack. This was about the same time that my dad was laid off. He was home with us all summer and it was great. We had our own little repair shop. We'd crash it, dad would fix it. Little did he know that this was going to create a mindset for the rest of your lives. Before long, the other kids in town found out we had a good thing going on in the field. Within weeks, we had about 10 kids wanting to come ride on our track. Chuck finally graduated to riding a Yamaha TT 250 and I got the LT 100. I remember wearing my old gold metallic helmet with a JT Racing visor on it.... I thought I was Bob Hannah.
About this time, my dad decided to buy an old '53 International pick up to haul wood in. Dad had gone back to work (remember the teamster strikes back then?) and had injured his back. He was off for a long time but he was always one step ahead of the game in making sure we survived. Anyhow, we had this old truck. We would cut wood, split it and haul it over to the house to burn in the woodstove. The truck was an old I-4 with 3 on the tree. It would run about the speed of smell with 3 kids, one adult, and a black lab, all in the front seat. We used that truck for a good 3 years and Dad finally decided that we could start driving that truck around the field. This became the second evolution of the field.
Soon, that old truck had a new paint job. Complete with lightning bolts and a big number 3 on the door. We all had our names painted on the door, making it an official race truck. We built a 1/4 mile oval by flying around that rack as fast as we could, sawing on the steering wheel like a sprint car driver. One would drive with Spike, our black lab in the passenger seat, barking out the window, as the other two would sit and wait their turn to drive. One final crash did the truck in. I lost it in the first turn and smashed into a pine tree, putting a branch through the block.
We weren't done. This just led to the next stage...and probably the most fun stage. Remember in the early '80's? BMX was the hottest thing. Chuck had found girls and skipped this phase but Chris and I were right there...checkerboard Vans, OP corduroy pants and crazy hair. By this time, we had a mini construction crew with the help of the neighborhood kids and converted the field to a full blown BMX track. Our shed was filled with bike parts, shovels, rakes and "Borrowed" items such as hay bails and water heaters that we could bury to make a jump. Mom and Dad never complained. On any given day, there were tons of kids at the house. We had kids from other towns coming in to ride. The competition was tough but we were all friends. After a hard day of riding, we all chipped in and raked and groomed the track.
Within a few years, we all started getting our permits to drive and we sold our bikes to buy our first cars. The field started to grow up and it became a place to hide beer. After that, the field was a place that we saw as we pulled in the driveway off to our left. The brush started growing up, covering the jumps and ruts we made with motorcycles, bicycles and trucks. Just like our memories of that place, they were still there but a little harder to see.
Marcy and I walked around the field once. It brought back the memories of being a kid, raised by the best parents in the world with the best brothers and friends at our sides. As I think about it, we need to make sure our kids have their own "field".
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
If we lived in Utah.....
Today, being Tuesday generally means it is my day off. I wake up and head over to see what Marcy is doing before she heads off to work and somehow end up with Cloe as my sidekick. I am not complaining but it is just become a routine. On this particular morning, things were mixed up a little.
The topic of the week between Marcy and I has been concerning a "wish" that we can eventually move to Utah. So everything we have said between us has started with "If we lived in Utah.....".
So, Marcy assigned me to write a essay with the title being, "If we lived in Utah". Here it goes....
If I lived in Utah, I would be finally be where I need to be. I know, this sounds so dramatic but it is. Here is a little story.....
When I was little, my parents took us kids on the vacation of a lifetime. We packed up the old '77 Chevy Malibu station wagon and set a course west. I can tell you every detail of where we went on that trip. Everything became very significant in my later years. Chicago, Davenport, Iowa, Cheyenne's Little America, the Safeway in Estes Park, Colorado and the little bit of Utah we saw.
Chicago is a place that I spent a lot of time in as I drove truck into the produce market. I lived near Davenport for three years. Cheyenne became my current home. The Safeway in Estes Park is where I heard my father say " I think the Mormon Church owns Safeway". And, just to clarify, in case anyone else is wondering, he was wrong... We spent most of out vacation tooling around Colorado with my parents ensuring me that we drove over almost every one of the big mountain passes ( I had an obsession with mountains as a 9 year old) but I knew I wanted to get to Utah.
Fast forward 23 years. I was on my way to L.A. and started down the Wasatch Range out of Evanston, WY. Echo Canyon was nice but when I reached Lambs Canyon on my decent down Parley's, I saw my "home". Everything about the Salt Lake and Utah Valley's seemed right to me. I stopped that night in Springville and sat at the Flying J, ate a bean and beef burritto, and stared at Maple Mountain. I couldn't get over how nice the people were! It wasn't anything like the east coast "Jersey" attitude I was used to. Now as I think about it, it was pretty much the attitude of the rest of the country.
I know this is a big secret but Marcy and I are DATING (SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Don't tell anyone!) Marcy and I have been best friends for a number of years. We never gave the "Dating" thing much thought. Marcy's mission was guiding me through my conversion. I remember the moment I knew it was "her". It was when we walked into Cranberry Cove in Palmyra, New York 2 days after my baptism. The lady at the counter turned and looked at me and said "It's Her!".
I knew it was......
Within a month, I had a transfer open up to Cheyenne. I put my name in and was gone in a week. We had prayed about me getting this transfer for a long time. I needed to feel what it was like to be part of a "ward family". With my time living close to Marcy and the kids, they became my family. We both feel that there is a bigger plan for us somewhere else. Cheyenne was a stepping stone for something bigger and better....
Now, we are looking at a very good possibility that we can move to Utah. I hope to transfer in to Grantsville or Corrine as soon as the time is right. Marcy and I are also looking at building a little "empire" out of some ideas we have. We both agree that it is time for us to come "HOME".
So, Marcy, I don't think I can call this essay "If we lived in Utah........" The proper name would be "When we live in Utah........."
Mike
The topic of the week between Marcy and I has been concerning a "wish" that we can eventually move to Utah. So everything we have said between us has started with "If we lived in Utah.....".
So, Marcy assigned me to write a essay with the title being, "If we lived in Utah". Here it goes....
If I lived in Utah, I would be finally be where I need to be. I know, this sounds so dramatic but it is. Here is a little story.....
When I was little, my parents took us kids on the vacation of a lifetime. We packed up the old '77 Chevy Malibu station wagon and set a course west. I can tell you every detail of where we went on that trip. Everything became very significant in my later years. Chicago, Davenport, Iowa, Cheyenne's Little America, the Safeway in Estes Park, Colorado and the little bit of Utah we saw.
Chicago is a place that I spent a lot of time in as I drove truck into the produce market. I lived near Davenport for three years. Cheyenne became my current home. The Safeway in Estes Park is where I heard my father say " I think the Mormon Church owns Safeway". And, just to clarify, in case anyone else is wondering, he was wrong... We spent most of out vacation tooling around Colorado with my parents ensuring me that we drove over almost every one of the big mountain passes ( I had an obsession with mountains as a 9 year old) but I knew I wanted to get to Utah.
Fast forward 23 years. I was on my way to L.A. and started down the Wasatch Range out of Evanston, WY. Echo Canyon was nice but when I reached Lambs Canyon on my decent down Parley's, I saw my "home". Everything about the Salt Lake and Utah Valley's seemed right to me. I stopped that night in Springville and sat at the Flying J, ate a bean and beef burritto, and stared at Maple Mountain. I couldn't get over how nice the people were! It wasn't anything like the east coast "Jersey" attitude I was used to. Now as I think about it, it was pretty much the attitude of the rest of the country.
I know this is a big secret but Marcy and I are DATING (SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Don't tell anyone!) Marcy and I have been best friends for a number of years. We never gave the "Dating" thing much thought. Marcy's mission was guiding me through my conversion. I remember the moment I knew it was "her". It was when we walked into Cranberry Cove in Palmyra, New York 2 days after my baptism. The lady at the counter turned and looked at me and said "It's Her!".
I knew it was......
Within a month, I had a transfer open up to Cheyenne. I put my name in and was gone in a week. We had prayed about me getting this transfer for a long time. I needed to feel what it was like to be part of a "ward family". With my time living close to Marcy and the kids, they became my family. We both feel that there is a bigger plan for us somewhere else. Cheyenne was a stepping stone for something bigger and better....
Now, we are looking at a very good possibility that we can move to Utah. I hope to transfer in to Grantsville or Corrine as soon as the time is right. Marcy and I are also looking at building a little "empire" out of some ideas we have. We both agree that it is time for us to come "HOME".
So, Marcy, I don't think I can call this essay "If we lived in Utah........" The proper name would be "When we live in Utah........."
Mike
Friday, March 13, 2009
Ch-ch-changes...
I have a confession to make... I hate change. I like the same old thing, all the time, nothing should ever quit working, nothing should ever break, everything should be just what I have grown comfortable with all the time. Do you remember the Walgreens commercials from few years ago? They were centered around a blissful, change free place called "Perfect". *sigh* As much as I know there is no such things as growth without change, I still always feel a little but let down when something happens in life that I'm not prepared for, or haven't had time to mentally digest. I'm an "analyze, deconstruct, weigh, and measure anything new so I completely understand it" kind of person. I picture, in my mind, changes, or new ideas, or something challenging that I have to accomplish as being like being in a room with a mysterious box. I have to thoroughly study the box, postage, tape, construction, etc. Then I carefully open it. Then I carefully study the state of the contents inside. Then I remove whatever happens to be inside. I carefully go through the wrapping, and then I devote my attention to whatever the object might be. By the time I'm finished observing, I will know what it smells like, feels like, what it's made of, how it was made, for what purpose it was made, how much it weighs, how much it may have cost to construct, etc., before I can actually embrace it and use it. Then I have to clean up the mess, slide the box to one corner, turn out the light, leave the room and shut the door before I feel like I can move forward, or be comfortable with new ideas, or circumstances. In other words, I'm obsessive about controlling things and ideas, and circumstances that I let into my life. As you can probably imagine, I'm not really an impulsive person. And this is an incredible burden sometimes! I wish I could just do something spontaneous, without giving things a second thought, but I guess that's not my lot in life!
I really am going somewhere with all this nonsense, so bare with me!
It seems like the theme of the last 2 years in my home has been "The Random Malfunction of Normally Reliable Products and Services". Here is a list of all the things that have malfunctioned since I moved here, 3 years ago.
1. The washer didn't fit the hookups when I moved in. The new part was expensive, more than a hundred dollars, and took about 2 weeks to get fixed.
2. The range plug didn't fit the existing plug in the house.
3. The dryer quit about 2 weeks after I got the washer fixed. Took about another week and a half.
4. The water heater element quit working.
5. The washer quit working.
6. The freezer quit working.
7. the dryer quit working
4. The washer quit working ( these malfunctions all cost around a hundred dollars an occurrence)
5. The drains became extremely slow.
6. The furnace pilot light blew out 4 times, always after 11 pm, and always on very cold, windy nights.
7. The water froze 4 times.
8. The drains got slow again, which led my landlord to discover that I had a septic tank, and that it was full. No one had any idea where it was, so they ended up digging up my pretty lawn, and making giant holes till it was located. This whole process took almost exactly 2 weeks. During which time I had no running water, and spent several nights in hotels.
9. The kitchen plumbing under the sink imploded. My landlord is incompetent, so I had to fix it myself.
10. My sump pump, which my washer drains into, got very slow, and loud, and smelly then quit.
11. My range quit working. Fried plug. Took me almost 2 weeks to get someone to fix it for me.
12. Internet connection didn't work for about 4 months.
13. My power shuts itself off about 2 or three times a week, usually just a few minutes after I set all the clocks in the house.
14. My oven crapped out. I bought a part that cost $130 dollars, which only fixed one of the several problems it had. It's been 2 weeks now since it quit.
15. The washer died.
16. I got a replacement washer to use while the other one was being fixed. It died.
16. Got my old, fixed one back, then the sump pump died. It took my landlord a week to fix it.
17. After working for a total of 3 hours, my sump pump died again.
AHHHH!!!!
I am really trying hard to understand what I am supposed to learn from all this, and I think it may be to teach me to stop being so controlling, and un-flexible. I'm trying REALLY HARD!
I used to get really upset, and I felt like my life was crashing down around me, but now, I've noticed that I don't get quite so upset, I just buckle down, and work around whatever might be currently not working the way it should. Does that mean I'm progressing?! I hope so!
Now on to continue my journey to try to find the bottom of the dirty laundry stack, wish me luck!
I really am going somewhere with all this nonsense, so bare with me!
It seems like the theme of the last 2 years in my home has been "The Random Malfunction of Normally Reliable Products and Services". Here is a list of all the things that have malfunctioned since I moved here, 3 years ago.
1. The washer didn't fit the hookups when I moved in. The new part was expensive, more than a hundred dollars, and took about 2 weeks to get fixed.
2. The range plug didn't fit the existing plug in the house.
3. The dryer quit about 2 weeks after I got the washer fixed. Took about another week and a half.
4. The water heater element quit working.
5. The washer quit working.
6. The freezer quit working.
7. the dryer quit working
4. The washer quit working ( these malfunctions all cost around a hundred dollars an occurrence)
5. The drains became extremely slow.
6. The furnace pilot light blew out 4 times, always after 11 pm, and always on very cold, windy nights.
7. The water froze 4 times.
8. The drains got slow again, which led my landlord to discover that I had a septic tank, and that it was full. No one had any idea where it was, so they ended up digging up my pretty lawn, and making giant holes till it was located. This whole process took almost exactly 2 weeks. During which time I had no running water, and spent several nights in hotels.
9. The kitchen plumbing under the sink imploded. My landlord is incompetent, so I had to fix it myself.
10. My sump pump, which my washer drains into, got very slow, and loud, and smelly then quit.
11. My range quit working. Fried plug. Took me almost 2 weeks to get someone to fix it for me.
12. Internet connection didn't work for about 4 months.
13. My power shuts itself off about 2 or three times a week, usually just a few minutes after I set all the clocks in the house.
14. My oven crapped out. I bought a part that cost $130 dollars, which only fixed one of the several problems it had. It's been 2 weeks now since it quit.
15. The washer died.
16. I got a replacement washer to use while the other one was being fixed. It died.
16. Got my old, fixed one back, then the sump pump died. It took my landlord a week to fix it.
17. After working for a total of 3 hours, my sump pump died again.
AHHHH!!!!
I am really trying hard to understand what I am supposed to learn from all this, and I think it may be to teach me to stop being so controlling, and un-flexible. I'm trying REALLY HARD!
I used to get really upset, and I felt like my life was crashing down around me, but now, I've noticed that I don't get quite so upset, I just buckle down, and work around whatever might be currently not working the way it should. Does that mean I'm progressing?! I hope so!
Now on to continue my journey to try to find the bottom of the dirty laundry stack, wish me luck!
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I want a do-over!
I woke up at 3:34 am this morning. I don't do well without sleep, so at the moment my eyes opened I knew that I was in for a crappy day today. I feel like I'm in slow motion, and to top it all off, I'm getting this weird, sinus pressure headache thing. I had so many plans for the day, and all I feel like doing is going home and going to bed! Maybe I will make myself go to the gym after work, so I get my "happy" on, or at least I can feel like I did at least SOMETHING productive...
And this is me, making the decision to stop whining now ;-)
And, just for fun, here's a pic of a little bird I saw in Sams Club a few weeks ago. see? I'm trying to be in a better mood, YAY!
And this is me, making the decision to stop whining now ;-)
And, just for fun, here's a pic of a little bird I saw in Sams Club a few weeks ago. see? I'm trying to be in a better mood, YAY!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
A day in the life...
Today finds me sitting at work, Cloe busily making a mess in the corner of my office. She has an unusual affinity for disinfecting wipes ( no idea why), and is making "presents" with them wadded up in a little damp ball, then she secures the whole thing with about 4lbs of tape. She is wrapping random things on my desk, and then makes me unwrap them while she watches excitedly. I have decided that I can learn a lesson from what she is doing...looking at everyday things about my life in a new, fresh, excited way. I have had an interesting/stressful last few weeks, to say the least. I think I'm finally on the "down" side of the stress cycle for a little while, anyway. About 4 days ago I did the "pause my life for some deep reflection" thing. I have to say that I'm feeling very thankful for the way things are going for me, and for the place I'm at in life. If I can pass on any advice it's this: Ignore the things he does that irritates you, love your kids, teach them discipline, find time to exercise, learn to love the good things about yourself, ALWAYS always try extra hard to make time to study the gospel and talk to God EVERY day! NO EXCUSES! The End :) I wish you all peace, and comfort, and safety, and most of all, happiness...
Friday, February 20, 2009
Do you ever have one of those days?
Oh, I guess it was about three weeks ago, now, but Mike ad I decided to go to the gym. I was wearing Yoga capris, and that becomes relevant later in the story, it's not there solely for vanity purposes :)
Anyway, after a pretty long dry spell, I decided that I need to pick up running again, I was doing 6 miles a day about a year and a half ago, and I would like to get back in shape. Our routine is usually that we start out on the treadmill, and do 1-2 miles, then head to the weight room. Mike was about 2 treadmills away from me to my right, and there was some random guy to my right. He sorta gave a me a crusty look as I started out, it took me some extra time to get my ipod untangled and all situated. I think I was disrupting his rhythm or something... This bad vibe just threw off my whole treadmill time. I was on a brand new machine, with a very grippy belt, picture "belt sander", and my poor old assics were about ready to be put out to pasture. My feet and brain were not in sync, and I kept accidentally stepping over the tread to the stationary side railing. The guy next to me is still giving me crusties, like "what in the heck is this handicapped woman doing here unsupervised?". I finally got "in the zone", and was feeling pretty focused. I was liking what I was listening to, (Clutch:robot hive/exodus album) and gradually closed my eyes. I opened them to see myself zooming off the back of the machine FAST. Just them, my right foot caught the side step, and jerked my whole body backward, so I planted my left foot to stabilize myself. Unfortunately, my left foot was right on top of the roller bar that the belt turns around on, so this threw me back off the machine altogether! Here I am, stuck between the wall about a foot behind the treadmill, and the belt, that is whipping around at number 6 speed. It sawed off about 4lbs of flesh from my legs, because I couldn't get up!
Anyway, after a pretty long dry spell, I decided that I need to pick up running again, I was doing 6 miles a day about a year and a half ago, and I would like to get back in shape. Our routine is usually that we start out on the treadmill, and do 1-2 miles, then head to the weight room. Mike was about 2 treadmills away from me to my right, and there was some random guy to my right. He sorta gave a me a crusty look as I started out, it took me some extra time to get my ipod untangled and all situated. I think I was disrupting his rhythm or something... This bad vibe just threw off my whole treadmill time. I was on a brand new machine, with a very grippy belt, picture "belt sander", and my poor old assics were about ready to be put out to pasture. My feet and brain were not in sync, and I kept accidentally stepping over the tread to the stationary side railing. The guy next to me is still giving me crusties, like "what in the heck is this handicapped woman doing here unsupervised?". I finally got "in the zone", and was feeling pretty focused. I was liking what I was listening to, (Clutch:robot hive/exodus album) and gradually closed my eyes. I opened them to see myself zooming off the back of the machine FAST. Just them, my right foot caught the side step, and jerked my whole body backward, so I planted my left foot to stabilize myself. Unfortunately, my left foot was right on top of the roller bar that the belt turns around on, so this threw me back off the machine altogether! Here I am, stuck between the wall about a foot behind the treadmill, and the belt, that is whipping around at number 6 speed. It sawed off about 4lbs of flesh from my legs, because I couldn't get up!
I finally did, and thankfully, no one saw what happened, so I got up, stopped the machine, and tried catching my breath. Mike noticed me stopping and looked at me like "What are you doing?!", but just kept right on running. The grouchy guy next to me must have sensed some movement out of the corner of his eye, but was not overly concerned and did nothing but shoot me another crusty look. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so here I am, bleeding, and SO sore, but I wasn't going to get off the treadmill till grouchy man left, so I walked another half-mile, or should I say limped :) I finally walked out, and sat. I was so sore and stiff that I could barely get up again, and I had somehow pulled a muscle in my shoulder during the awesome ordeal...
Yet another example of just how uber-cool it is to be me!
Yet another example of just how uber-cool it is to be me!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Hellwax.
September 01, 2008
Ok, so my loyal fans have requested a new blog.... I call this one "Hellwax"...
As probably most of you know, My Dearest Joni Marie got married mid-July. I travelled the 6 hours to Logan, Utah to attend. Which is also where my younger brother, Andy and his wife, Nikki live. I stayed with them for the 3 days I was in Utah. Now, I don't really remember what led up to this, but Nikki and I got the sudden urge to whip out the body wax and wax each others' eyebrows... Which led to a crazy wax fest. At one point, I looked at her and took a mental step back and pondered just how hysterical it was that she had a huge blob of hardening wax sticking out of each nostril and ripped them both off without flinching at all and without missing a beat in the conversation we were having. Well, I and my newfound courage and waxing skills went home to Cheyenne armed with the confidence to tackle all kinds of personal waxing projects...
Now, let me give you a little backstory. I have always had terrible luck with shaving. Regularly about 3 times a year I cut my legs horrifically with the razor. So, you can probably imagine that I am not a huge fan of shaving, but I'm also less of a bodyhair fan, so I grit my teeth and hack away, and always make sure the bandaids are handy.
Back to my story. On the drive home from Andy and Nikkis' I had been imagining myself, freed from the razor. As soon as I could, I bought the wax, and took it home, and waited patiently while the wax heated for hours. I was WAX-CRAZY that night! I don't think a Johnson or a Dent escaped some sort of waxing. I was so happy with how well my leg waxing turned out that I decided to get brave and wax my armpits. I decided to let them grow for a few days so it would be more satisfying to see those litle suckers in the hardened wax after I yanked them out.
This is where it gets interesting...
It was a Sunday morning, and I had had the wax on the warmer all night so I could go to church with freshly waxed pits. I got a huge blob on my little applicator stick, and smeared it all over my left underarm. I looked at it and decided that I needed just a little more, so I smeared another giant blob. I let it cool and, smiling at the thought of a smooth armpit, grabbed a hunk and YANK! I got about 4 hairs out and screamed. I'm a pretty tough person, but that was THE most excruciating pain I had ever experienced. Including the emergency c-section. I started to panic because I had a pretty big clump still stuck there, and had to be out the door to church in about 45 minutes and I had no makeup on yet. I tried melting it off with the long lighter stick that I use to light candles with. I leaned way over the sink and held it under there as long as I could stand it, then I would wait a little while and start melting again. After I burnt myself I took a different approach and just tried yanking again. By this point I was bleeding all over the place. I tried goo-gone, that spray you use to get sticky gunk off of windows, which I knew was a solvent. It worked a little and a few more hairs loosened and slipped out of the wax, but the down side was that the spray was now also stinging like CRAZY as it got in my freshly traumatized and bleeding folicles. I was super panicky and stressed, and gooey and smelling like scorched wax and hair and goo-gone. I finally just got a huge bandaid, and slapped it over the wax and wore it that way for the next 2 days, and the wax finally just fell off on its own :)
My advice to you? Just say NO to wax....
Ok, so my loyal fans have requested a new blog.... I call this one "Hellwax"...
As probably most of you know, My Dearest Joni Marie got married mid-July. I travelled the 6 hours to Logan, Utah to attend. Which is also where my younger brother, Andy and his wife, Nikki live. I stayed with them for the 3 days I was in Utah. Now, I don't really remember what led up to this, but Nikki and I got the sudden urge to whip out the body wax and wax each others' eyebrows... Which led to a crazy wax fest. At one point, I looked at her and took a mental step back and pondered just how hysterical it was that she had a huge blob of hardening wax sticking out of each nostril and ripped them both off without flinching at all and without missing a beat in the conversation we were having. Well, I and my newfound courage and waxing skills went home to Cheyenne armed with the confidence to tackle all kinds of personal waxing projects...
Now, let me give you a little backstory. I have always had terrible luck with shaving. Regularly about 3 times a year I cut my legs horrifically with the razor. So, you can probably imagine that I am not a huge fan of shaving, but I'm also less of a bodyhair fan, so I grit my teeth and hack away, and always make sure the bandaids are handy.
Back to my story. On the drive home from Andy and Nikkis' I had been imagining myself, freed from the razor. As soon as I could, I bought the wax, and took it home, and waited patiently while the wax heated for hours. I was WAX-CRAZY that night! I don't think a Johnson or a Dent escaped some sort of waxing. I was so happy with how well my leg waxing turned out that I decided to get brave and wax my armpits. I decided to let them grow for a few days so it would be more satisfying to see those litle suckers in the hardened wax after I yanked them out.
This is where it gets interesting...
It was a Sunday morning, and I had had the wax on the warmer all night so I could go to church with freshly waxed pits. I got a huge blob on my little applicator stick, and smeared it all over my left underarm. I looked at it and decided that I needed just a little more, so I smeared another giant blob. I let it cool and, smiling at the thought of a smooth armpit, grabbed a hunk and YANK! I got about 4 hairs out and screamed. I'm a pretty tough person, but that was THE most excruciating pain I had ever experienced. Including the emergency c-section. I started to panic because I had a pretty big clump still stuck there, and had to be out the door to church in about 45 minutes and I had no makeup on yet. I tried melting it off with the long lighter stick that I use to light candles with. I leaned way over the sink and held it under there as long as I could stand it, then I would wait a little while and start melting again. After I burnt myself I took a different approach and just tried yanking again. By this point I was bleeding all over the place. I tried goo-gone, that spray you use to get sticky gunk off of windows, which I knew was a solvent. It worked a little and a few more hairs loosened and slipped out of the wax, but the down side was that the spray was now also stinging like CRAZY as it got in my freshly traumatized and bleeding folicles. I was super panicky and stressed, and gooey and smelling like scorched wax and hair and goo-gone. I finally just got a huge bandaid, and slapped it over the wax and wore it that way for the next 2 days, and the wax finally just fell off on its own :)
My advice to you? Just say NO to wax....
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