So on People.com they had a Pop Quiz:  GUESS THE CHEST (matching up chests to their male owner)  and here are my results:

Also Known As:

Shellie and Jesus: The Love Story

May  18, 2001

I know I shouldn’t be writing these kind of things.  I know I need to get over him.  Its stupid of me to think that we would ever have a shot.  What am I thinking? GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF SHELLIE! but… alas  I know what my heart thinks. and I think that’s all that matters. Right?  RIGHT??

I knew it the first time I laid eyes on him, and underneath his bushy black eyebrows one normal eye, and one wonkey eye looked back into mine.  It was like SOULpiercing.  Then he let out his sexy CALIENTE mexican laugh…. ahhhh ha ha ha ha.  and I melted right then and there.  Good thing he didn’t let out a wolf howl… swoon :)

So for the next couple of weeks we kept flirting back and forth.  Him chained to the hot stove cooking with all that Spanish Passion… Steak, Bacon Wrapped Steak, Shrimp, more Steak, Malibu Chicken, more steak…. and me peeking in through the service window the food lamps casting a warm glow on my face. 

Our eyes would meet.  Well my eyes and one of his.  and then I would coyishly look away fast.  and then back again.  and then away fast.  and then…WHOOPS! sorry Brooke didn’t see ya there… Ready to go sing to the grandma in the banquet room? okay lets go.  

Then slowly it built into something more…

“Una Papa por favor” I’d say through the window.

Jesus would then stagger back clutching his heart…

“sí! sí! mi corazón”

and then… not one potato  would appear, but TWO.  One for my customer… and is this one for me?  I’d gesture to myself, eyebrows raised in question.  Jesus would nod and then gesture again to his heart back to me.   Nothing says young love like a baked potato with… wait… whats this… not one scoop of butter but two???!!!

WOW!

So for a couple of weeks there was some major eye glancing, potato passing under that heat lamp.  It was so… so… I don’t even know how to say it in this language… so I’ll use his… Fantistico!  ahhhh :)

Then one day after a lunch rush I was busy clearing up a table when I saw Jesus walk in.  It was his day off and he had gotten spiffy. 

*He was wearing Really Tight Dark Blue Wranglers, Really Tight, and a button down Maroon Silk Shirt, and some pointy cowboy boots.  His hair. which had always been concealed under a hair net and Sizzler ball cap, had now been suddenly released and was really… uh… fluffy.

and then he walked over to me… and asked me to come sit with him.  So we sat in a booth and talked for a little bit.  Through his  maroon silk shirt I could see a gold cross laying against his bouncy chest hair…  he then asked me if I wanted to go with him to Mass with him on Sunday. 

“I can’t I have to work”  I said

“ai yi yi that’s too bad…” he said

We talked a little more and he helped me with some Spanish so I could communicate with the bussers. 

“Will you clear that table?”

Cuidado que está caliente

Then he had to leave and I went back into the service station I told my coworker that Jesus asked me on a date.

“Shellie, Jesus is married and has like 6 kids in Mexico”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.  I’m a dork”

So then the next time we worked together I said “Hey Jesus how’s your wife and kids doing?” LIKE “HUH Whats that… oh yes I did Find out!  and he just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.  LIKE “All the ladies want me… its not my fault chica” 

My heart felt broken.  So sad.  wah.

its time for me to move on.  get over him. get over him. get over him. I’ll need to write that 1,000 x plus in my notebook.  and I’ll never ever eat Shrimp again!

it was just a super desesperada Romantico anyway.

*this is when it hit me that “harmless flirting” can be harmful

Back in 2000 I worked at Sizzler in West Valley Utah on Redwood Road and Scary Street.  It was a great job.  I loved serving all you can eat shrimp, texas toast, and Malibu Chicken to the masses. 

(not the acutal Jesus) (Jesus’s arms were gorilla hairy)

Yes, it is true that while working there, I had a crush on a Hispanic Fry cook name Jesus.  and yes he was hot in a hair net, wonkey eye, sexy sneer, pointy cowboot kinda way.  And it also was true (although I had no idea) that he had a wife and six kids back in Mayheco.  and sadly it is also true that Brooke Bruno and I always had vaccum duty with those lame back pack vacuums.  Those vaccums sucked so bad because you could smell the old hot shrimp dust blowing past your face as you vaccumed.  sick nasty. 

anyway we also had the grand privilege of singing birthday songs to our guests.  Along with a ice cream float with whip cream and cherry, we also gave a balloon.  So one day a family of, oh I don’t know about 15, came in for their grandma’s birthday.  They were in the banquet room and I and another server helped them.  When it was time for the birthday song all us servers went out there and sang our hearts out.  We gave the grandma her treat and then I realized I forgot her balloon. 

So I went back to the service station and began filling the balloon, as I was filling I remembered that in their party was a young girl in a wheelchair and thought she would like one too.  So I got a red balloon for Grandma… Pink Balloon for girl. 

I entered the Banquet room.

“Here’s a balloon for the Birthday Girl!!!” handing grandma her balloon.

and then I turn to the girl in the wheelchair.

“and here’s one for you”  I was trying to hand it to her but I noticed she couldn’t raise her hands to grasp it.  So I went behind her chair.  “I’ll just tie it right here for you okay” 

I tried to tie it on.  but everyone was quiet and staring at me.  It was taking me forever…

“Man! I’m such a retard!”  I say to explain why its taking me so long.  uh oh… did I just say that.  As it was coming out of my lips I could tell I had just said something horrible.  

The girl in the wheelchair starts rocking back and forth

“RETARD! RETARD! RETARD!”  She started screaming.

The whole party just looks at me and stares.  The parents lean over to their daughter and try to calm her down but she’s really vocal now and everyone in the banquet room is staring.  Very quickly the whole party gets their stuff together and leaves.  The grandma shot me the dirtiest look in the world as she walked out the door. The word “Retard” still vibrating off the walls and echoing out in the parking lot as they load her into a van. 

Needless to say I didn’t get a tip.  And now I try to be very careful when I say the word Retard.  I only use it if I’m talking about music. or if I really need to get it out of my system I go into my closet with the light turned off and say it very quietly. 

*”You’ve got Writers Block”

I’m suffering from writers block and it hurts real bad.  I’ve been trying to write my cancer story out and the thing is that I’m finding it very difficult.  Not that I have difficult memories to go through because of all the things that have happened in my life I don’t really get bothered by them.  I may get depressed and mopey in any given present circumstance for like a day or two… or whatev… but going through things from my past really doesn’t feel like a big deal.  And my writers block isn’t coming from lack of material.  I wrote out a list of things I would like to write about… losing my hair… chemo treatments… doctors/nurses… etc and the more I wrote out little subject headers the more I remembered.  so that was great. 

I guess maybe the problem is having an actual “project”.  Having an actual “project” is like mind melting to me.  All of the sudden writing becomes that big pile of laundry that I have shoved into my laundry room so that no one from recipe group saw it. 

wow that was so debbie downer.  wah wah wah.

sorry I just had to get it off my chest.  phew.  all done.

love ya.  kiss kiss.

shellie

*only a few of you will know what I’m referencing to.  :)  sorry I wish you all knew.  because its really really funny. 

Hi! just saw this on Oprah

get a free 8×10 photo book album from Snapfish.com

http://www.oprah.com/slideshow/oprahshow/20081029_tows_messyhouse/7

I think it would be cool for a christmas gift. 

Back in high school I thought it would be real cool to not wear my bra. Like I was some rebel that wanted to show my independance. I was a free woman. I don’t let anything inhibit me! I can be strong and proud. I don’t need the MAN telling me What to do! Okay honestly I don’t know why I thought it would be cool… probably I saw something on Friends.

So for about 2 weeks I went bra less about anywhere and everywhere. But then I didn’t want anyone to know so I wore sweat shirts. Every day. and I slouched a lot. No one ever knew.

On Sunday after church as we were sitting in the car, waiting to leave the parking lot, Chad turned to me and said and I quote

“What’s wrong with your boobs?”

Well sweet heart,  I bore your children and nursed them, that’s whats wrong with them. 

“What do you mean?”  I ask looking down.  Yep there they are. 

“Um it looks like you have 4 boobs”  he smiled so nicely.  A little too nicely in my opinion.  and then his eyes glazed over…

(jk… guys! I was just kidding!!! I was just trying to make you laugh… on an unrelated note: Chad, Total Recall came in the mail today from Netflix…but I have no clue why you want to see it so bad.)

I felt for them.  Yep sure as the sun rises, in this case my bra, I did indeed have 4 boobs.  My real ones, and my bra ones.  See I wore my slick g’s and my bra had no friction to save its life… so up it slowly crept until the underwire of my bra was sitting  perfectly across my clavicle.  I have no idea how long it had been like that, I always am a little absent brained at church with all the goings on of Primary.  But I do remember during Jr Sharing Time that I had to lift my arms up a whole lot while doing this little dance with Tansy.  So it probably happened then.  sorry kids. 

I don’t know if anyone noticed and hopefully no one did and no one thinks less of me.   would you notice a girl at church looking like this?

4 boob has happened to me before.  A long time ago in a land far away….

Back in college at UVSC I signed up for a racquetball class.  Now see I have no NOPE not one drop of athleticism in my body.  But one time when I was visiting my sister at college I played racquetball with this guy,  who was muy bueno might I add,  and he let me win.  Probably to be nice, but for some reason I had it in my head that I was good at a sport finally! Not only good I thought, but I could (with training) be GREAT! 

So the first morning of Racquetball I got ready for the day and for some reason wore the stupidest bra that I owned.  A strapless bra.  Which was leftover from my sister Stephanie from HS, who was at least a full cup size bigger than me, which made the bra… already unsteady as is with no straps,  had nothing but air to grab onto. 

So if you’ve ever been to UVSC, please remember now the hallway where the racquetball courts are located. Remember how two racquetball courts were completely visible from the hallway? Like you could walk down the hallway and press your face into the glass as you watched people play. 

 Okay so class starts and our teacher goes through some training and such and then pairs us up.  I and this guy who looked oh so fine (and like 24/25, PROBABLY RM!),  were paired up and played in the first racquetball court.  The one right next to the hallway.

I was doing some pirouette’s and goofing around then switching it up by swishing my racket through the air like I knew what I was doing.  Showing the guy that although I was 18 with braces, I could still be oh so cute (pirouettes) and tuff (swishing my racket) 

 So we start playing and I manage to get a few points.  I had my game face on.  Boo ya!!  I was really trying very hard.  Seriously I was trying to do my best and I was really getting into it.  The only bad thing is when you have no athleticism in your body and you try really hard –> you look like a major dork. My arms and legs were all over the place… and I still run kind of funny… because I use to sit in the “W” form when I was a kid…  Seriously.  If anyone of you has seen me play any kind of sport and I’m looking like a goofball… (Need I remind any of my family members of my infamous dive attempts at Lake Powell)  its because I’m trying really really hard to be athletic. 

So I’m like all out of breath and we were taking a break… and I am doubled over trying to catch my breath, but still trying to be cute, so I’d look over at oh so fine dude  every now and then and do a cute smile.  :)  and oh so fine dude is checking his watch.  OH MY GOSH I’M LOSING HIM!!!  I stand up, do a little jog in place, swing my arms around… getting back in my groove folks… getting my game face back on… 

then all of the sudden Oh so fine dude is looking at me kinda funny… with a sort of bemused smile on his face… a little twinkle in his eye… oh yeah… I think he’s starting to flirt with me.  score 1 for Shellie. 

“Uh…..” he says… still smiling

“Yeah?” 

“You have a little problem”  

“What”

“Your uh shirt?  You are having a little problem” 

“Huh???”

I look down.  What the???? There’s a weird lump around my stomach… WAIT  A FRICKEN MINUTE! THATS MY BRA!!!  My bra was like around my waist… like it was a freaking belt.  a big bunchy belt. Awesome. 

So I slipped the raquetball cord off my wrist, dropped it on the floor, turned around and walked out, grabbed my back pack, using it as a shield in front of me and went to the bathroom where I got it back in place, then went to the computer lab where I unenrolled from Racquetball 101.

THE END.

and I’m not talking about the kids.

I’ve eaten

about 30 popcorn balls

18 pkgs of sour patch kids

tons of chocolate

and a ton of peanut butter m&m’s left over from a treat I made.

 here’s a halloween picture of us

Dallen- Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle

Kate- Ballerina

Shellie- Deer

Chad off camera- Hunter

I thought the perfect couple dress up for me and Chad was Dita Von Teese and Marilyn Manson.

but he didn’t want to.  I have no idea why. 

Yes the CB’s sole purpose was talking to truckers.  See my step dad Bruce is a trucker.  and that means ourwhole lives were immersed in that life style

• Eating at truck stop restaurants
• Playing video games at truck stop lounges
• Picking out Christmas presents at truck stops
• Listening to truckers BS with each other
• and (here’s where the CB comes in) warning other truckers where the Police were.

Police were called “Bears”  which I guess is a nicer term than “Pigs”.  Hey truckers now how to be respectful to their local law enforcement.   but at the same time always on the lookout because if you get pulled over and your log books aren’t filled out just right…. guess what buddy? that’s right you are S.O.L

man I’m already wanting to start speaking trucker on ya’ll

$@^*&^ *&*st 7!@

sorry that just slipped

So this is how a little conversation went between my mom and trucker:

First we’d see a “Bear” driving past us.  and my mom would play all cool until the Bear was a little out of eye sight.  Then she’d reach for her CB mike and say

“Breaker breaker we have a Bear coming up on 1-15 going north bound.  He just passed us and I’m at mile marker 56.”

“10-4 copy that”

“10-4 over and out”

and then she’d look over at us kids all proud.  my mom has a big heart… always looking out for her fellow trucker.  Mom I’d tip my trucker hat at you if I had one. 

Also my mom loved to educate us on trucker etiquette.  Like how far to stay back, and how to flash your lights for them when its okay for them to move over into your lane, and how to basically not piss them off or they will form a convoy and chase you down and smash your car into smithereens. 

Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and wonder:

“How in the world did I turn out so cool?”

and then you might wonder

“Wow Shellie has a mighty big ego.”

but then you didn’t know that while growing up *and primarily during the teenage years that I had to ride around in my mom’s car.  that looked a little like this:

Yes Folks you are seeing a 20 foot freaking huge tall CB ANTENNA on the top of that car!!!