Welcome to Life in the City

I have done it! I have moved into a town with more people than cows for the first time in my life, and boy, is it different.

I have gotten two ID tags in two days and a little more than I bargained for on both days.

Day one:

I was at the LDS Church Office Buildings to get my ID tags to allow me entry into everywhere I need to go for my mission. I felt lost and disoriented, but boy, was I happy! What a dream come true. As I walked back to my apartment, a sweet woman stopped me on the street to say "you are beautiful! You look like Rebekah, you know, the one who marries Isaac in the Bible." Hot dang, I look like a biblical beauty. All is well. Such a sweet compliment.

As I traveled further down the sidewalk, (keep in mind, the walk is only 4 minutes to my abode,) I hear someone shout "Hey, HEY!" Naturally, I turn to see who wanted my attention. It was an elderly man... With his pants on the ground. DANGER, DANGER, WILL ROBINSON. SEE NO EVIL!!!!

I had been flashed. I had been flashed on my first day in Salt Lake right across from the temple. Clearly, this man had no respect for biblical beauties or such a sacred building.

Day two:

Fast forward (or flash forward... Ha, I am hysterical.) to today. I began work today and am LOVING it. Talk about an excellent place to work filled with excellent people. As we went through the motions of checking a guest out of a building, her large box of props for her TV plug tipped over the hand sanitizer which then squirted... Straight into my eyeball. Good aim, hand sanitizer. You should try out for an MLB team. You'd totally make it.

Anyways, that is all I have for now. We'll figure out something more a little later. I'm ill and tired, but I am here and I am happy. The Lord is good to me.

Good Ol' Lady Luck

Let's chat about luck.

I'm not talking about upside-down horse shoes or throwing a pinch of salt over your shoulder. I am talking about a map falling out of the sky leading you to exactly where you want to be in life.

That's sort of where I am right now. And, boy, after mishap and misadventure, I can tell you, it feels great.

In truth, this post has nothing to do with luck, but the plans our Father in Heaven has for us.

I move in 15 days to Salt Lake City to pursue one of my life long dreams. I will begin working with the LDS Church History Museum.

Ever since I was a young gal, I have had a penchant for all things old - antiques, history lessons, my parents (wink wink, nod nod. Shout out. You're not really old, just older than me. I'm a child - we think everything is old.)

More so, I have always loved the history of my church. I'm fascinated by the enduring hope of the pioneers as they crossed the plains as well as those who travelled across the seas trusting that they would be allowed to worship freely. Through thick and thin. their beliefs are what drove them to create a life for themselves.

So, that's what I will be sharing with people. I will be giving tours and doing other various work throughout the museum to share with people my love of our history.

But let's focus on my history - my story.

About a year ago, I was visiting my kindred spirit; my better half; my bosom buddy; my faux-sister; the BFF that all other BFFS dream of: the one, the only, Jenny.

 It was Valentine's day weekend, and I had 3 days off of school. I drove down to Salt Lake to gallivant wildly around the greater Salt Lake area with Jen.

Fast facts:
Jenny and I are the same person. My Valentine to her was a 3' thrifted Troll doll with a Valentine written on it's underpants. Her Valentine to me was a heart-shaped wreath with granny panties strung up in the center. We're forever friends, she and I.


Jenny and I went to get a pizza one night for a pizza/Disney movie night. (We watched Hunchback of Notre Dame. I cried. Surprise - I always do!) The pizza man told me "I'm sure you get this a lot... But you are really pretty. Like, beautiful." No, I do not get that a lot. Subsequently, Jenny and I decided I should marry a pizza man which would mean free pizza and free cuddles for life. I'm down.




We fell asleep watching a film on Monday evening. I was supposed to leave Tuesday at 8am, so when I woke up and saw the clock say 10:49, I was a little frantic. It was 10:49 PM, but I refused to be convinced. Jenny had to go to great lengths to prove it to me. TIL I'm a fool.

Jenny is currently serving an 18-month proselyting mission in Barcelona Spain. She's the best and the coolest and I love her a lot.

Anyways, on Saturday, we went to my jam, the LDS Church History Museum. We got in a conversation with one of the lovely volunteers there who asked if I was interested in working with the museum. With a double fist air pump and a resounding "YOU BET'CHA!" I left her with my name and contact information. And in the way college students are wont to do, I forgot all about it.

That is until November. I received an email from the museum saying they were ready for new docents, and if I was interested, I could give them a call to schedule an interview.

I was planning on returning to school in January, so I put off contacting the museum for a while. I wanted to complete another semester of school then serve a mission, so no matter how much I wanted the museum, it didn't fit into my plans.

I wanted desperately to serve a mission, and I knew I would, but through recent discussions I had with my bishop as well as answers I had received, I knew, with all of my broken heart that a full-time proselyting mission was not what the Lord had in mind.

So I called them. 'Why not?' I asked myself, and I scheduled an interview for the first week of December. The interview was in Salt Lake and I was in Colorado, so all I had to do was get out to UT, and then I would be good to go.

I work three different jobs, so I thought it would be a challenge scheduling everything accordingly, but everything aligned perfectly for me to be in UT for two days. Almost as if it were meant to happen.

My father and I left early one morning to catch a flight to Salt Lake City. That's when I started seeing the miracles begin. I often have struggles sleeping and having enough energy for my day, but that day, I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed. To put things into perspective, I generally sleep about 3-4 hours a night. That night, I slept a full 7 and woke up dancing at 4 to catch my flight. Literally dancing. Louis Prima's 'Pennies From Heaven' was my alarm that morning.

 Then, at the SLC airport, we were hurrying to our rental car when I realized I had lost an earring. To some, this may not be a big issue. But for me, it was detrimental. I had only brought one pair of earrings on the trip and I brought my favorite pearls to look extra fancy. I thought to myself "well, I guess I am destined to be average. Bummer deal." and I told my dad to forget it.

He insisted we look, so we turned around to retrace our steps, and what should we see but my pearl earring, back attached, rolling  towards us on the automated walkway. In order for the back to still be attached, my ear lobe must have either disappeared completely (which I promise it did not,) or my earring was trained with the Jedi council and used the force to reattach itself. (Likely.)

Either way, it was an absolute tender mercy.

Fast forward to the interview - I  found myself being the youngest person there. Every one else had degrees and families and not to mention successful careers. I felt out of place and a bit foolish thinking I would have a chance. But I didn't leave. I went through the interview process and found the Lord blessing me at every turn.

 It was a three tier interview process, meeting with heads of various departments. In one interview, the interviewer was a bit gruff, and being the tender hearted little nut I am, I was shaking in my proverbial boots. (I was wearing flats, but non-sequitur.) I noticed an art piece on his wall and all of the sudden, words I had never before used and references to artists I had never heard of came flying from my mouth. I was shocked at everything I was saying. Me, who had only taken a semester long art class before, was discussing the chiaroscuro of a piece  with the head of a museum department. What is life, even. Like, wut.

I had read that the Lord will put words in our mouths and He will cause our tongues to be loosed, but I had never before experienced it to such a degree.

In the last section of the interview, I met with a wonderful woman who said she had been looking forward to meeting me. She mentioned that we had spoken on the phone several years previous, yet she still remembered who I was. (I had no idea what she was talking about until I realized I had called the museum years before seeking information for a school project my sophomore year of high school.) We spoke and things were pretty average. Not too great, but also not too bad. I was about to leave, when I felt the overwhelming prompting to mention my experience onstage as well as with improv theatre. She leaped from her chair, grabbed my hand and led me to another woman to tell her that I was "the girl they had been looking for".

Long story short, they had been looking for someone with a background in theatre to help with a new program they were looking to begin. Had the Lord not prompted me to mention my experience, I may not have this amazing journey ahead of me.

I received a letter a few days after Christmas informing me that I had been chosen to become a new docent with the museum for a span of three years and that I would be needed in Salt Lake City in March. In the letter, there was an application for a Church service mission.

I had found my mission. The Lord had heard my prayers and He had answered them in His own way and on His own time, but, as it always does, it ended up being at a time when I needed it the most. I will be set apart as a missionary this Sunday. My little heart is full!

If that's not orchestrated by someone above, I don't know what is. Life is beautiful and the Lord has a plan for us. I know that this was His plan for me and that He had been working it for years to get me in the right place at the right time.

I testify that if we put our trust in the Lord and hope for a better world according to His will, it will come. It may not be when we want it or how we want it, but it will be when we need it and how we need it.

This little girl is a happy one.

-B

Oh, Hey. I Didn't See You There.

It's been ages since I posted anything. Hey. It happens. So, here are a few short updates:

I accidentally walked into a bee-keeping area. Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. Just a whole bunch of nopes right up there.

I saw a moose. It changed my life. Or at least my view on moose-type animals.

I made a homeless man lunch. (This is for another day.)

I got a ticket for the first time ever. (No yay.)

I move to SLC in March (YAYYYYYYYY.)

Just a lot of Brynne moments. Too many to count.


The story of how I found some bee boxes. Whadda party.

       I went fishing with my dear sweet roommate Mindy, her beau, and his roommate on Memorial Day. Being the adventurous Brynne that I am, I began to venture off from the others and see what the river and surrounding areas had to offer. I felt like a real Lewis or Clark. (I don't discriminate, so I listed both of their names.) I came to a ditch filled with tires and old wood, so I was on high snake alert. My snakedar was activated, if you will. I didn't see any, so I went across and thought nothing of it.

        I hiked off by myself for sometime until I saw an area of the river that was unearthly. It was one of the most beautiful vistas I have ever seen, hands down. I made my way down the ridge to stand on the river banks. I felt like Pocahontas. Just around the river bennnnddddd! I may or may not have had a Disney moment. I stood there for a while and then decided that Mindy had to come enjoy this little bit of heaven on Earth with me. I headed up to the top of the ridge, climbing back up in a different spot than where I had come down. When I reached the top, I looked up to see 7 - 10 bee boxes all around me. I had a small feminine heart attack. For someone who has only been stung twice, this is a big deal right here. I backed away slowly, then somehow managed to do a grapevine/moonwalk away from the bees, but I never once turned my back on them. Those bees had some shifty eyes. Hold up, let's just appreciate the fact that my rad dance skills were employed in a fight or flight situation. I've got the rhythm, I've got the groove. I'm my own Funky Bunch. Sorry, Marky Mark, but this is Brynnie Brynne. Word.

         I began to make my way back to my friends when I came back to Snake Gulch, as we'll call it. I began to scan for any snakes when my heart dropped to my kidney zone to pop in for a friendly visit. Hopefully you know basic anatomy and such, but if you don't, your heart is not supposed to be high fiving the kidneys. I like snakes when they are tame and not wild and not out for blood, but when I encounter them on my own, you bet that I would rather be sitting in a bee keeping zone than dealing with that junk. But there it was - something huge and round and scaly looking. I stood there, frozen, and didn't know what to do. After probably three minutes of staring, I realized I was terrified of an old braided rug.  Brynne, you actin' like a foo'. But really, who does that? Sick jerks. That's who does junk like that. Phonies. (Yes, I did just pull a Holden Caufield. It happens.)

Now we transition into the moose story. Look at that. Seamless.

          I hopped over the Braided Rug Gulch, as we'll now call it, and made my way back to civilization, or just down the ridge where Mindy, Barratt and Dylan were fishing in vain. I grabbed Mindy, and we ventured off into the sunset. The end.



         No, that is a lie. We went over to my little paradise so she could enjoy it as well. After we made it over Braided Rug Gulch, we found a little knife with a broken handle. Mindy, being Mindy, grabbed the knife 'just in case we needed it'. :) We make our way over to the river bend, slowly, but surely. (Minds was wearing flip flops, so trail adjustments had to be made.) After I scaled down, I helped Mindy, knife still in hand, and we made it to the bank. As we're looking out, we see movement. Lo and behold, it was a baby moose in the water. My jaw drops, Mindy's eyes bug out, and we just stare at this majestic little baby moose friend, who in turn, stared right back at us. We thought he might charge, but he was smart and didn't. Good one, moose. If he did, we had a knife. We could have taken him. We may be small, but we are scrappy. After the moose swam around the corner, Mindy and I stood there for a moment in silence. "That was so beautiful." I said. Mindy responded with: "I feel like we should hug." We did, but she was careful to not stab me in the back. Et tu, Brutus? Amiright, o amiright?

        Mindy and I then thought it would be appropriate to sing some Pocahontas. She got a little into it and held the knife up as a microphone. I had to quickly remind her what it was that she was holding. If not for me, who knows what would have happened. But in all reality, Mindy and I are absolute bosom buddies. We complement each other perfectly and I love her. She's an angel. A quirky angel, but an angel nonetheless. We shout at Dylan and Barratt to come see, long story short, they do, they don't believe the moose was there, we are sad, and head up to the top of the ridge. As we look over the water, what should those non-believers see but the moose? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, they got served.

      Also, congrats to Mindy and Barratt. They were married yesterday. Two peas in a pod, those kids.

      The rest of the day was relatively uneventful. I still think of that moose. Wonder how it's doing. If it's still alive. How big its antlers are now. If it has any of its own baby meeses. You know - the usual.

South Dakota Dreaming

“I always thought of myself as a good old South Dakota boy who grew up here on the prairie.”

- George McGovern

As a child, we took plenty of vacations. We loved to spend time together as a family, but my father travelled most of the time for business, so it was a difficult thing to do. We often took vacations together to make up for lost time, per se. These have become some of my most cherished memories.

            One of my favorite vacations was one that I didn’t even know was happening! My parents told my siblings and I that we were going to go the pool one summer afternoon, so we had better grab our swimsuits and towels real quick-like. Equipped with the innocence of youth, we piled into the backseat paying no attention to the large bag of snacks and maps strewn across the front seats. 

            As we began to drive, our excitement waxed… And then waned. It was taking an obscene amount of time to get to the pool! We started to complain and cry thinking they had tricked us and were taking us to an orphanage to be dropped off. My older sister and I, being 10 and 8, respectively, promised we would be good kids if only they would keep us.

            Our parents assured us that we were not being dropped off at the orphanage, but they asked us to be patient. We were, but not happily. We weren’t completely convinced that the orphanage was not our intended destination. Those sneaky parents - you never know what they are up to.

            I remember distinctly passing the “Welcome to Montana!” sign. My sister, Alyssa and I, exchanged befuddled looks. Our parents then told us the plan – they were taking us to South Dakota for a week in a cabin. The relief washed over us as we realized our parents wanted to keep us! For now, that is. We were rough kids. And if you've read my past posts, you know that to be true.

            We came to the cabin – a secluded place in the middle of a wooded area. There was a stream running near the cabin. It was Americana embodied. There were steps leading up to a screened porch where rocking chairs sat, waiting to be used. Inside the cabin, there were rustic furniture items and mounted animals adorning every unused surface.  We didn’t see it as macabre or strange – we saw it as our own frozen zoo. We named all of the animals, eventually. I remember three antelope heads which my sister and I bonded with most. We named them Ed, Edd and Eddy after one of our favorite TV shows. There was an elk head mounted in the room where we slept, and we lovingly dubbed him “Dexter” after the TV show ‘Dexter’s Laboratory’.

            I remember my sister and I waking up long before the sun to go fishing in the stream with my father. Those are memories that still warm my heart to this day. After several hours of fishing, we would head back to the cabin with our small foam cooler filled with fish caught during the morning. We would then fry them up in a pot over a fire out front of the cabin. Us kids would love playing with the fish, but eating was a different story. We left that to the adults. 

             I remember going to a small tackle store in search of two things – night crawlers and a fishing pole of my own. My older sister picked out a fishing pole that consisted of a purple rod and a pink reel. I picked one slightly less normal. My rod was blue and the reel was a green dinosaur’s head. You know what, I see no problem with that. Forget the less-than-normal bit. It was stylish, and I knew it. That fishing rod became my most cherished plaything for years to come. The memories associated of fishing with my father on those early mornings with just the morning chorus keeping us company were my absolute favorites. Those memories occupied all of my daydreams.   

            Later, we would return home to our mother, who was then pregnant with my youngest sister, Lily.  We’d have the usual fare of fish or bologna sandwiches for those who couldn’t stomach the catch of the day. Later in the evenings, I remember singing songs by Vertical Horizon and Mandy Moore for our mother as she recorded us with our camcorder. I’d like to find those tapes now. I know they would be a hoot to see. I was a an entire girl band all on my own. Man, my hips did not lie. What whatttt. 

            We didn’t just spend all of our time in that cabin, though. We visited small ghost towns and Mount Rushmore. Visiting those ghost towns sparked a love that I still have for all things Westerns and cowboys. I am fascinated by that era of time and I know it began in South Dakota.

            That week is one that will always live in my memory, and now on paper. Or the inter webs. It is what it is. I hope that I can be as good of a parent to my children as my parents were, and are to me. I am unbelievably grateful for their influence in my life and all that they have done to make sure I was well taken care of and happy. I tell them I love them all the time, but I don’t know that they realize how to the extent which I do. I hope that when they read these stories, it will be made evident to them. I am so grateful Heavenly Father sent me to the parents I have. I am grateful that Heavenly Father saw me fit to have such amazing parents. They have provided me with a life of love and an unforgettable childhood. <3 <3 <3 <3 FO REAL. U DA BEST MUM AND DAD. <3 <3 <3 

-B

Airports: A Playground for People Watchers.

I'm a self-proclaimed creep, but I present the behavior to back up that claim. I'm sitting at the Idaho Falls Airport waiting to board my flight into Denver. FYI - I've been to grocery stores bigger than this airport. It's a joke compared to Denver International or the San Francisco Airport, but any airport is a good airport in my opinion. Why? I can people watch like nobody's business. I'm pretty much the NSA with how observant I am. I notice everything. My facial expressions are the Edward Snowden of my creepiness, though, as they give away my thoughts exactly. I'm an open book, whether or not I like it.

I wish I had paper and a pen because then I would sketch all the going-ons around me for all to see. Unfortunately, I don't, and even more unfortunately, I won't take photos because that is too creepy, even for me. A girl has got to have some boundaries.

There's a young man and his wife sitting next to me - both students at BYU-Idaho. The first thing the husband said as he sat down was "awesome! They have Wifi! Now we can start on the same level! This is the best! Dr. Mario, here we come." That's both the happiest and the saddest thing I have ever heard. Happiest because I think Dr. Mario is an excellent game. Saddest - really? If that's the best part of his day, someone needs to show that boy what a good day is.

There's a woman sitting to my right who looks like a wanna-be Kim Kardashian. We'll call her Tammy. She's a mother of four, and she was telling her mother, whom she is flying with, that her best friend is concerned that Tammy's husband has schizophrenia. Tammy then went on to say "I don't know what she's talking about. She said she thinks it's the kind that gets better with age. For heaven's sake - the man's 38! I don't think it's getting any better!" Tammy also owns a hair salon. She is frustrated because one of her employees was just put on probation with assault charges yet they are still sending her to work. Tammy says her main complaint is that the girl keeps telling customers. Um. Hey, Tammy. My main complaint there is that you're giving someone who has proven to be violent scissors and a free pass to someone's arteries as they sit trapped in a chair. Really, Tam-Tam? Really? Tammy is also expressing frustration because said girl wastes hair color since she doesn't use a color chart. Tammy said she would fire her, but the girl cuts the "hottest layers you've ever seen." I'll bet. 

That's it for now. I'm boarding soon. Pft. As if I wan't bored enough already. Oh, homophones. you never fail to disappoint.

-B

A Chortle a Day Keeps the Men Away

 Funny stories from the Miller household. 

       

            “He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.”

                           ― Rafael Sabatini

            My youngest sister, Lily, is amazing, Easily the most gifted comedian I have ever met, but she doesn’t even realize it. She’s a quiet gal, but everything she says is perfect. Once, at the dinner table, My parents called my sister, Erika, a freak. Lily, who was spooning peas into her mouth, quietly said “she’s super freaky, yeowwww.”  Before putting the spoon into her mouth.

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            Erika, (younger,) Alyssa, (older,) and myself would take the baby’s diapers, (Lily,) and wear clean ones on our heads. We then would take the dirty ones and launch them at each other with homemade devices in our large office. We were lonely kids.

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            Alyssa and I began a ‘Jazz Club’ in our playroom. We turned off all of the lights, but had a few lamps in the room turned on. We covered them with colorful scarves to give ‘the look’, you know? We wore Newsboy caps and fluffy scarf dresses. We decided one night that we needed refreshments. We soaked bread in water and then put that bread on the desk that lit up from beneath. It never cooked the rolls.

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            In Oahu, Hawaii, my father, Alyssa and I all went to go feed Sting Rays. The Sting Rays were trained to flop on your back for a ‘kiss’. As I was feeding squid to one ray, another flopped on my back pushing me face first into the handful of squid I had. Good one, Sting.