Blast

So after church we had a mingle. Being new to the ward, I thought mingling could be fun. When I was done mingling I found a member of the bishopric and handed him my tithing. He didn't know me (or i him) so we talked for about ten seconds. While we were talking another member of the bishopric came up. I assumed he was coming up to talk to the other bishopric member. B.M #1 introduced B.M #2 to me.

B.M #1 " This is Mandi."

B.M #2 "Yes. I know. I actually came to talk to her."

Me. "What? I don't think we've met. Do I know you?"

B.M #2 "No. But I know you. I've seen you around and heard you in class. Will you speak on Sunday?"

Me What? .....ugh. Yes.

Blast! I have been really "lucky" in that I spoke twice the year I turned 12. After that I never spoke in church again until I moved to Utah ten years later. When I moved here I spoke almost immediately and haven't spoken since. It's been 3 years. Blast. I don't know why speaking in church has such a bad wrap. It really isn't that big of a deal right? Hmmmm....

Ms. Bryant and High School Algebra II 2.0

Have I ever told you the story of Ms. Bryant, my high school algebra teacher? Well, my "senior" year of high school I took advanced algebra II. Math was my thing. There were a lot of things I didn't get as a teenager, but algebra wasn't one of them. In fact, I was so good I often had to tutor half the class before and after class and teach them how to do the homework. I would take it step by step and show them exactly how to do it.

Well, somehow, I was always the lowest scorer in the class as well. Someone I taught how to do the work would get a 90 and I would get a 60. In fact, the only time I ever got less than an 88 in high school was my senior year. For the two 6 week periods that made up a semester I got a 77 and a 66 in my advanced algebra II class. Ms. Bryant took me aside and suggested I drop the course. I was so frustrated. I knew I knew the material, and when I would ask her about the difference in grades with someone I helped with their homework she would point out a mistake I made and say, I know so and so knows what they are talking about even if they forget to close the parenthesis, I don't know that you do. She had me. I made little mistakes and while most people wouldn't care as long as the work and right answer was there, Ms. Bryant would mark my whole problem wrong. I knew she didn't like me but I had no clue why. I told Ms. Bryant I would NOT drop the class and I took my Christmas vacation annoyed, and not sure what exactly I would do. Over my break I called my sister Tina, who lived in Italy at the time, to vent and she was caught by surprise. "You have Ms. BRYANT?!?!?" she asked. " I hated her!" She continued on to tell me the horrible relationship she had with her. And then it came flooding back... the first day of school, as I am sure I was the tanner spitting image of Tina, Ms. Bryant asked me if I was related to TINA Carrio. I responded that yes, I was. Nothing else was ever spoken of the subject. As I recalled this event it all came flooding to me. I knew right then and there that I was being punished for my sister's horrible behavior towards Ms. Bryant, and her lack of skill in math. I was determined to start over and show her how I was not my sister, despite how much we may look alike. (something I always had to prove to my parents as well.)

The first day of the next semester I walked into Ms. Bryant's classroom with a new determination. I would make her love me, and I would never make another mistake that she could hold against me. I marched to the front of the classroom and picked the chair that was about 6 inches away from her face. While extremely obese Ms. Bryant hardly ever walked. She wheeled around the classroom. I would tell her how cool she was and ask her if she went clubbing over the weekend. I was sarcastic the whole time but she thought I was serious. I always made a point to "show an interest." I figured if she wanted to play a game, well none better to play with than me. I hate playing games, but if you force me to I will; and I will win. I will have you know I made two 100's that next semester. I think I even made a friend in Ms. Bryant. She even exempted me from taking the final because she knew I knew my stuff.

Well folks... it is 8 years later that I find someone challenging my knowledge and yet I give them mistakes, minute as they may be, to use against me. This is just version 2.0. I felt overwhelmed at first. But the question is will I sink or swim? Fight or flight? I thought I was going to drown. I thought I should just give up because this battle was too big to fight. As I started to close my eyes and let the current take me under a sudden wave came over me and I knew what I had to do...

SWIM! FIGHT!

I am not giving up just because you think you are stronger or more powerful. I refuse to let someone try and get rid of me just because they don't like me. I didn't let it happen then and I won't let it happen now. It isn't going to be easy, and it is going to take a LOT of time to read a LOT of material. I am going to have to double and triple and quadruple check everything I do from now on...but that's OK.

TAWANDA!

"Buddy"

Why is it that guys like to use the word "buddy"? It drives me absolutely NUTTY. I loathe being called buddy. Today one of my coworkers in Cleveland said, "hey, what's your buddy's name that works here in Cleveland too?" It was like nails on a chalk board to me. Actually, nails on a chalk board don't bother me.... the noise a box makes when you are folding or unfolding it does. It is the most awful noise ever.

shudder.

welp,

welp, i said i was going to do it and i did it... i don't know for how long...but this blog is currently PRIVATE. SOO....you should feel super special if you are reading this right now....it means i trust you to know what is going on in my life. anyway....today has been horrible... don't want to post about negative things. happy blogs to follow.

September 11

Last night while "babysitting" a recently turned 13 year old and her 14 year old brother I was lounging on the couch of thier home and staring into space. As the 14 year old boy channel surfed I heard screaming coming from the TV. I glanced quickly to see that he had passed a program called 102 minutes that changed America. I asked him to go back and we watched the program for the next hour or so. I was glued to the TV and intrigued while he was antsy and it was apparent he wished to hear my command to change the channel. I ignored him. This program was comprised of the different videos that were taken by citizens of New York and the surrounding areas. It was raw, and in the moment... it made me sick to my stomach to watch but I wanted to see it all. 

The whole time I heard negative comments coming from this 14 year old boy. It is apparent he thinks he knows it all anyway which is frustrating in itself, but to hear the negative comments that came out of his mouth...it took a lot of me to stay calm and to tell him in a civilized way why it was so important. 

"those people are so stupid! why didn't they just ...."

"why don't people just get over this already?! who really cares about september 11th?"

"look! that is soooo cool! look how that plane hit the tower!"

"man...when is the second tower going to drop already?!?!? this is so boring. i hope it just collapses soon."

I then got pretty short with him and asked me how he felt about September 11th. He was 6 when it happened. He said he remembered his mom crying all day. That's about it. He said he wished people would just "get over" September 11th. It was 8 years ago and we need to move on with our lives.

What a contrast. Being a senior in high school I remember the day vividly. I was scared, I was confused... I was seeing live footage on the news at school but I couldn't comprehend that it was real life, and not a movie. I could see faces of people waving white shirts as flags out of the office building windows, and I remember seeing chairs, and then human bodies being flung out of these buildings. All air travel was grounded for days, and friends who had family members in NYC and especially the twin towers wept throughout the day worried for the life of their loved ones. It was such a traumatic event for so many people.... and though 8 years seems like a long time, I feel like it was a few short months ago that I stood in E building of Clear Creek High School walking into my speech class and freezing in the doorway as my teacher was shaking and shoving popcorn in her mouth at the same time (eating popcorn in the morning was her daily routine) eyes glued on the TV and exclaiming to me that I wouldn't believe what was going on..  The nation came together and vowed to unite and "never forget." And now, 8 short years later.... that's all the upcoming generation wants us to do. Forget about it, move on...who cares.... wow.....if only they truly understood.  I understand now how my grandparents must feel when I talk about Pearl Harbour or any sort of war. I wasn't there... I didn't understand. 

And still, most of me hopes he never understands. He never worries that his country will be attacked and bombed and that his safety is in jeopardy. No one wants to feel their safety is violated. No one.

As If My Life Wasn't Crazy Enough

The news said I was 26!!! EWWW!! I am totally 24!! hahahaha. Welp, I've always wanted  a news article written about me...but not for something bad. Oh Well... for your reading pleasure. Click the link.