this is my philosophy, yeah, got my feet on the groooouuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnddddddddd.....

So I'm going to tell you a story. Once upon a time, my mom did something slightly airheaded. I don't remember what, it was a long time ago. She felt very badly about whatever it was though, because my little brother, who was only 8 at the time, tried to comfort her by saying "Don't worry Mom, I think you are the smartest mom in the whole ward." To my little brother, our ward was his whole world, and my mother was the queen.

It was funny, to my mom, and to the rest of us, and the phrase "smartest _______ in the ward," became sort of a running joke in the Nielson home. For instance, when anyone would do something stupid, they would be lovingly mocked with a hearty, "Gee, I would have expected better from the smartest Mia Maid/deacon/Scout Master in the whole WARD."

And that is how we became "the smartest family in the ward." It is a joke. The Tidwells are waaaaay smarter. So are the Jensens.

My mother has asked me to take that bit down out of my "About me" because apparently someone took it seriously, and asked her if she really thought she had raised the smartest family in the ward. It was awkward for her, apparently.

Around the same time, I got a nasty comment in my inbox telling me what a terrible person I am, how I am not doing my part with this blog to spread the gospel, how my grammar sucks, how another blog out there is using my blog to write satire (that bit I found hilarious, on oh-so-many levels, but I digress) and that I should stop mentioning grad school even though, hey, GRAD SCHOOL IS WHAT I DO and anyway, it was a very long and well thought out little way to ruin my day.

Oh wait, I'm not supposed to admit that it really hurt my feelings. I'm supposed to pretend that nasty comments don't bother me, that being told I suck doesn't sting, and that I am just so far above that sort of nonsense. I'm not. It hurt my feelings. A lot. I feel immature admitting it, but it's true. So thanks, commenter person, I'm sure you were doing your best to follow Elder Ballard's idea of using the internet to share the gospel when you wrote that.

The thing is, I think this person was taking the blog known as Mormon Child Bride a little too seriously. This isn't a serious blog. Sometimes I might talk about something more serious, but I always warn people, and hey, you don't have to read what you don't like.

But mostly, I'm just joking. I joke about MCBs because I am one. Sometimes I talk like an infant, and I hate myself for it. My husband, gulp, spoils me even though I don't think grown ups should be in charge of spoiling other grown ups. I don't spend the same time checking for a typo on the blog as I would a research paper. Maybe I should, but I don't. Bummer.

So in the future, let us remember a few ground rules.

-My family is probably only the 3rd smartest in the ward.

-Leaving mean comments is rude. Don't. Unless you could read your comment, including all your sarcastic jabs and CAPS LOCKED rantings, to me, in person, don't write it. Disagree all you want, but just because it is on the internet, doesn't mean you have a get out of being mean free card.

-If my poor spellin n gramma skillz is stressin you all out, go read a dictionary.



Most of the people in the blogosphere have read about the Nieniedialogues, and how the author, Stephanie Nielson,(not me, another Stephanie Nielson,) was in a plane crash with her husband. You also probably know about all the relief efforts being conducted to her and her family. If not, you can read more about them here.

My internet friend Sue is having a contest to help Nie. The contest goes like this, you submit a blog post from your blog that is funny, and the posts that are picked get turned into a book, and all the money from the book helps Nie. The contest ends September 30, so there is still a little time to figure out something funny. You should do it.

You can read more about the contest here. And then you can spend hours of your life reading Sue's blog.

Sue's blog book contest for Nie


book review.

A few weeks ago, my mother let me borrow her copy of The Lightning Thief. They are about on the Harry Potter reading level, and are an excellent and easy read for those who are still feeling Potter withdrawals.

I will warn you though, that these books, like Potter, are part of a series and the latest book is not due until the summer. Should you get hooked like I did, this may present a problem.

Although there are many great aspects of the book, I shall share my favorite bit. The main character, Percy, discovers that he is the "half-blood" son of a Greek god. He comes to find out that what was previously diagnosed as ADHD/Dyslexia are really traits of the Greek Gods. (It is explained further in the book.)

I enjoyed that. And next time someone feels inclined to comment on my consistent letter rearranging, spelling errors, grammar mix ups, or lack of attention-keeping skills, I shall simply tell them that my father was Zeus and I simply can't be bothered with their rubbish English. And then I will imagine zapping them with a lightning bolt. What is the point of ADD if you can't enjoy the benefits of a vivid imagination?


feeling superior....NOW

Have you people seen this website?


I am in love. And I may or may not have spent hours on this site today, wasting time. It felt so good. Lately, the complete lack of sleep, grad school crap, and the fact that 7th graders are TERRIFYING has made me feel like I'm losing my mind, particularly the part of my mind that deals with social skills and not loosing my temper.

But at least I am not posting passive-aggressive notes all over the place. AT LEAST.

So there's hope for me yet.

Why are you still here? Go to that site.



Q. Where do you work?

A. At a cafe and Murray.

Q. Can I visit you there?

A. Only if you know me, and only if you bring presents.

Q. It sounds like you hate it there, why do you stay?

A. You're confusing the feelings of overall hatred with the feelings of temporary frustration/my love of hyperbole. It's usually not so bad, and someone has only pooped all over the bathroom once.

Most importantly, since I am in school everyday/all day Monday-Thursday, this job is one of the few willing to work with my schedule. (I only work a few hours on the weekend.)

Q. Is your boss nice?

A. Yes. And she usually lets me do whatever I want. Like take a whole weekend off.

Q. Do you like your co-workers.

A. Yes. And those I don't get fired. Or get pregnant via their cracked out boyfriend and leave in order to spawn. But I'm actually not in charge of that, the getting them pregnant part. Just the convincing my boss to fire them part.

Q. If you work there so little, why do you talk about it all the time?
A. Because grad school is boring.


how to bother me quickly

Saying that you are going to finish your degree and go to graduate school is not the same as actually doing it. It. Is. Not.

Unless you are a registered student in an accredited graduate school program, you aren't a grad student.

So, little MCBs, start editing your profiles.....



There is a special place in heaven for those people who choose to become caregivers for the elderly.

There is a very special place in hell for those people who choose this profession, take their charges to my restaurant, take their charges to the restroom, and leave an enormous, disgusting mess all over the bathroom.

I understand that it is gross to clean these things up. But it is your job, as the caregiver, to do so. Or at least have the decency to alert the management, so that our unsuspecting patrons do not stumble upon said mess, and storm angrily to the counter to complain to me about it.

If you feel uncomfortable doing this, you ought to look into another profession, which does not include cleaning up these sorts of messes. I myself have found such a profession.

Which is why, when my manager tried to guilt me into cleaning up the mess, I politely declined, telling her that I do not get paid nearly enough to deal with this kind of, well, crap.


I have decided that

I have an ulcer.

And that zucchini bread is the cure.


i think it's sexy when...

My husband reveals that he knows how to thread and wind the bobbin on my sewing machine.

Yep, that's right. I said I think my husband is sexy on the internet. Next thing you know, I'll be revealing tmi about his showering habits, what name brand jean fits his butt best, and all those other things MCB's like to talk about. Since you know, their blog is their journal.


i am debating quitting...

No. I was not aware that I have been walking about, in public, with coffee spilled all over my shirt, specifically, the part of my shirt covering my right boob. Thank you for asking, and, well, bringing it to my attention.

When do we close? Well, fifteen minutes ago, but by all means, after I tell you this please continue to sit and chat for ten more minutes. Tip? Who tips anymore anyways...go on, please finish your conversation. I have nothing better to do then wait for you to leave so I can finish utilizing my college degree to mop the floor.

Yes, please, cafe manager, allow your sister to leave right before clean-up. She totally deserves it. She also deserves to have you rig the tips in her favor. I'll just stay late to clean up her mess. No. Big. Deal.

Yes, store manager, store customers, and store suppliers of coffee, I do, in fact, HATE YOU ALL.

Loves and kisses,



thought process after a long day of work....

...Have I done any good in the world today?

Well. I haven't killed anyone...

Mormon Child Bride: Lowering expectations since her suprise conception in 1986.



Now that I have told you how craptastic the tips at my job are, would anyone, um, like to work there with me? Hourly wages are available.

Duties include:

Washing Dishes
Making Food.
Serving Food to unappreciative customers.
Singing Fergie's "Fergalicious" song on demand whilst performing any of these tasks.*
Pretty much everything you do at home, except now you earn some form of monetary compensation. However, unlike at home, (or at least my home,) you cannot call any of the "patrons" retards.

I'm sort of serious. If you are a college student, or someone looking for some extra hours via part-time work....you should contact me or something......

*I'm serious.

On an unrelated note-

It has been duly noted that I am a bad publisher-of-comments, and that some people waited 5 days for their comment to be published. Sorry. I will improve.


dear restaurant patrons-

I know you are probably LDS, and I know you are frugal. I know you don't want to overspend, and I know you want to "live within your means."

Great. But they way to do that is not by ordering lots and lots of food, and then refusing to tip.

It is especially rude when you not only refuse to tip for your meal, but then offer to pay for the two elders sitting accross the room, and don't tip on their meal either.

I don't get paid to look cute, people.


thought process early this morning

"damn, why are there so many people smarter than me?"

no, no, don't try and comfort me. this isn't a compliment fishing post. there are people smarter than me, and lots of them. but, um, don't go all overboard agreeing with me either, okay? okay.