Back in the carefree days of pretending to go to classes at the Salt Lake Community College, I worked with Sabrina and Kim for commercial real estate agents. You really couldn't call it work, though. We spent most of our time identifying which rooftop was the iHop out by the E Center, making copies of that aerial, binding those copies with cover pages and demographics, and playing foosball.

Usually, the real estate agents did most of the foosball playing, although it seems that one assistant, Yost, spent considerable amount of time at the table. The rest of us felt like we should actually be working when we were on the clock as we were paid hourly... well, mostly working. Of course, when one of my bosses, Zach, came and told me he needed a goalie to take on two of the other agents who are challenging him to a game, I do what I'm told. I'm a good employee like that.

We followed official foosball rules, like no spinning. I HATE playing with people who won't follow those rules now. They're cheating.

So the game with Zach didn't start out so well. Before I could blink, we were down 9-0 and the other team was rightfully taunting us. The dialogue between me and my teammate at this point went something like:

"You think you're ready to play now? Could you stop a shot or two?" he asked.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention, but now I'm here. Not another goal," I replied.

"Good; cuz then they've won and I'll never hear the end of it."

When I tell my boss that I'm going to do something, I'll do what ever it takes to keep my word. So, I closed my bad eye and brought my amazing goal keeping skills to the table.

The final score was 11-9 for me and Zach. They lost to a girl and Zach always reminded them. After that day, he always called me (and I quote), "Larrie the Shit."

Last night, I played foosball. They refused to follow the rules and I was trying to go along with it, have a good time, and not call them all cheaters. Then I realized that with spinning, they other team could hit it hard, but I could hit it even harder. I like it when the goalie scores. It was getting kind of late so at first, one game was suggested. My team won (surprise) and the other team quickly called for best out of three. So my team won again.

Then I offered to play boys against girls. That round was a little more difficult. Lindsey and I pulled out the win the first game, then watched as Danny, playing goalie on the other team, went spinning crazy and never stopped even when the ball was on the other side. It worked well as the distraction was too much for my goalie. Don't worry though (I'm sure you're nervous right now)... Lindsey and I overcame the madly-spinning-Danny distraction the next game and the girls took home the victory.

Anybody need a goalie?

Word on the street has it that Mike Huckabee will be coming out with an article in the NY Times on Sunday about Mormons believing that Jesus and Satan are brothers. I used to be in the Huckabee camp. He seemed to be the best choice out of the GOP group until I started looking at his policies on crime and then I wavered. Now, I'm wondering what the deal is with this upcoming article.

What has this got to do with fiscal policy? How does this affect the war in Iraq? How does this affect illegal immigration or social security? Every day, I lean more and more towards a candidate who is a businessman, not a politician. I'm in the Romney/Obama '08 camp.

Back to this article... I'm disappointed in Huckabee. I feel like he's saying, "your religion isn't good enough for President." What kind of religious beliefs have we seen in our past Presidents? How many of those guys actually got on their knees and prayed to the God they said they believed in? They go to church... for the photo ops. I don't care if you go to church. I've gone with enough people who were wearing a tie on Sunday and doing drugs the rest of the week. I care if you live a decent life. (I could never support Hillary.)

And here's Huckabee with his insidious article. Is he saying he's willing to do anything to get the nomination? He'll pull out the God card to try and tear down somebody else who believes in God? However, he doesn't even do it directly. He's trying to draw it out of the journalists. Apparently, the title of the article will be, "Don't Mormons Believe that Jesus and the Devils are Brothers?" Why is he playing dumb? He's somewhat of a religious scholar. He doesn't need to be asking this of the Times--pretend like he's really asking for answers from the reporters. Now we're just being silly.

Good trees bear good fruit.

Somebody who believes that Jesus and the Devil are brothers can't make the right decision on Medicare.

My grumma is hip, I'll have you know. She's on YouTube playing Wii golf (with 1,447 views last I'd checked). My siblings and I bought her a digital camera for Christmas a few years ago and she retired her ancient film point-and-shoot. She has her own hotmail account and she logs in to MSN Messenger with a picture of her and her sister that pops up next to her name. Like I said, my grumma is hip. She recently added a cell phone to her hip arsenal. Look at all you 82-year olds who are behind the time. My grumma has you beat.

At the Sunday dinner table, my mom was texting my sister. Don't worry, my sister wasn't a few seats away texting her back. She's currently on vacation in Orlando. But my grumma who sat across the table from my mom was a little confused as my mom read Maren's "reports" about the alligator sun bathing outside the hotel window. We had to explain to grumma what a text message was and then, of course, show her how we did it. Before long, I was sending a text to my mom and my brother, Pete, while my cousin Sterling was taking a picture with his cell of the whole charade and then sent it via pix message to my phone. We pulled out grumma's cell and showed her how to use the letters on the number keypad to type a message. "Oh... I can't even read those letters," she said. Still, she was a good sport. And my dad had to laugh when we all had our phones out at the dinner table texting each other. The greatest texter of us all, littlest brother, James, missed out on all the phone as he had gone downstairs to get ready for a Madrigals performance. Otherwise, he would have been massive texting all of us with his high-speed thumbs. My family is the ca-hoolest. You are SO jealous.

There's nothing I can say to save you from the shock you might experience from reading this blog. I have no way to really prepare you. If you know me at all, you'll be appalled by the news I am going to report. Of course, if you know me at all, you may already know the news and have had sufficient amount of time to recover from your shock. If I keep drawing out this introduction long enough, I might have you guessing about what news you'll be anticipating. Clearly, from the title, I didn't say, "call me Mrs. something-or-other" so it's not likely that I'm making the big leap into wearing a diamond ring on my left hand. You might think that I've taken a new job as a high-powered executive and demanded that all of my subordinates call me President. Or perhaps I ran for and won the position of President of the neighborhood Treasure Club (the post I held when I was in elementary school). Any other guesses or do you just want me to tell you already?

Just over two weeks ago, they finally released me from my calling as Gospel Doctrine teacher (something that I was supposed to be released from shortly after being called as Stake Primary Secretary, but that didn't happen for over a year). The guys I was sitting with that Sunday all made remarks along the lines of, "It's about time." Little did they know...

They also released our Relief Society President who "graduated" from the ward by joining the diamond-ring-on-the-left-hand club. And guess who they called to replace her? My reaction when the Bishop extended the call was simply, "Wow."

I'm waiting to be released from the Stake Primary now, which is a sad, sad thing. My advice to all you readers: don't get comfortable if you like your church calling. Pretend like it's still really difficult to help with Cub Scouts, baptisms, go to primary programs, etc. Otherwise, they'll stick you in the Relief Society where you've never had a calling before and tell you to be its President.