I was stretching the truth when I said I have standards and that I only flirt with destiny. Sometimes I flirt with danger too. And sometimes danger flirts back. Especially when I tease it in my fish net stockings and seven inch heels on a Friday the 13th.
I think danger is a U of U fan because it didn't flirt with me until I was on my way to a BYU (Provo) basketball game.
First, I almost got Kung Fu Panda kicked by a semi-truck on I-15.
Then I almost got a Carl's Jr. french fry lodged in my wind pipe.
Then I almost sang the Cougar fight song during half-time.
(They say close calls come in threes).
The BYU (Provo) basketball game was an appropriate Friday the 13th flashback. The last time I attended a BYU (Provo) game was 20 years ago when my hub played point guard on the team--before Roger Reid told him (and the point other guard) that he had prayed and received revelation they should no longer be part of the team because his son Randy, who was also a point guard, was on his way home from his mission.
Have I ever told you this story?
Well then, pull up a chair and lend me your ears. (But cover them first because, if you haven't noticed, I like to drop names.)
My hub was recruited out of high school by Coach LaDell Anderson.
Scholarships were offered and contracts were signed. It was a done deal.
My hub then followed the prescribed mission slash marriage blueprint for eternal salvation, but it wasn't long before he was awakened by the reality that the blueprint for celestial (fame and) glory isn't always (cougar) blue.
The awakening began on our honeymoon when LaVell Edwards retired and Roger Reid became the new head coach. It wasn't a Friday the 13th, but it was bad luck for us anyhow--at least we thought so during our bitter voodoo doll stage.
After the bitter voodoo doll stage we used to chuckle about it.
"Maybe Roger Reid really did receive a revelation to renig your scholarship," I would say--usually while I was reapplying my sunscreen and digging my toes into the sand.
"Maybe so," my hub would say in his hang-loose voice as he turned over on his swap meet beach towel to brown evenly on both sides. "They say Gad works in mysterious ways."
Funny how one single revelation, when executed correctly, can knock your destiny onto it's Okole. It spun us, and three other BYU (Provo) basketball players, around and threw us for a loop.
When we got back up we weren't in Kansas anymore. baby! We were in Laie! And we were BYU-Hawaii Seasiders. For life.
And we liked it!
Best revelation ever!
But now we're back in Utah. And yes, we have a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad life, but gosh dangit, we're happy. And we like it.
Being miserable ain't the worst thing in the world. Especially when you live in the hap hap happiest place on earth.
Disneyland, eat OUR dust!
Utah is NUMBER ONE again! (hurkey kicks and cartwheels) In this recent article we top the list of happiest states. We're even happier than Hawaii, who got the silver medal in the happy olympics.
Looks like I made a good move. I've gone from happy to happier!
Wyoming got the bronze medal (not to be RUDE, but . . . bless their hearts . . . just sayin').
I have to admit it feels good to be happy. But it feels even better to be happier than others. I'm not a nani nani boo-er, but we are 12% happier than Kentucky and one of my best friends lives in Kentucky.
You do the math.
According to the study, states who have "No one likes a frowny face" on their license plates are the happiest.
Also states who have access to the most resources are happier than states who only have access to sun and sand and surf. I think this is where our access to porn, anti-depressants and prescription meds works in our favor.
I bet Utah leads the nation in access to superlatives too.
I'll check into that and report tomorrow.