My First Blog

I suppose I should be really proud of myself for entering the blogging world.  So I shall relate this first blog to something stellar. Here are my top five stellar choices: my first haircut ( I have GREAT hair!), my first word ("makeup"...go figure), my first boyfriend (Mitchell Torgerson...5th grade...glad I didn't marry him and keep his last name), my first car (Big Blue...which was a large flat bed truck), and my first pair of high heel shoes.  All are great choices...so I'll let you choose.

 I called this blog Write, Right, Wright for many reasons.  The first being that my last name is Wright.  So many people loved to torment me with the phrase, "Hey Miss Wright!  Have you found (nudge nudge) Mr. Right?" Ah ha ha ha.  How original. Homophones...aren't they great! Throughout my high school years I really gained a great love of writing, although I can't spell worth beans (that's why spell check was invented), I love putting thoughts onto paper.  I've really missed that whole writing process, so I'm really excited to do this.  Even if no one ever reads my blog, it's a nice escape for me.

For those of you who know me and all my quirkyness I apologize for this unnecessary intro to my life. For those of you who don't know me that well, this will be fun!!! 

I grew up in a small town called Santaquin, located in the totally fab state of Utah!  What does one do in a town named after the jolly old guy who leaves us presents under our tree (whom we can no longer talk about in school because it offends people...whatever...that aren't christian)?  Well I'll tell you what my dad, brother and I did every summer, we farmed honey!!  Yes, I know what you must be thinking, and yes bee keeping is a profession.  I do consider myself somewhat of a proficient when it comes to bee knowledge and useless facts, so lets get some things straight.  My major pet peeve is when people and children say they were "bit by a bee!"  I'm sorry but the last time I checked...bees didn't have teeth.  They do however, have stingers.  So if bit is to teeth than stung is to...stinger!!!! So now you can say you were "stung by a bee!"

My mother was an Elementary School Principal for many years in Provo, which was about 30 minutes north of my town.  So my brother and I went to her school until 6th grade and then went to Middle School, Jr. High, and High School with all of our neighbor kids. There were pluses and minuses in going this route with my education and choice of educational peers.  One positive was that my nick name, "Bucky Beaver", would remain in elementary school with kids I would never see again.  After getting my braces in fifth grade, no one was the wiser that I truly was a tragedy as far as teeth were concerned.  A minus, at the time, was that while riding in the car with my mom, we would listen to what is now referred to as "oldies music" and I LOVED it!!  James Taylor, Phil Collins, The Police, Duran Duran, The Gogo's...you named it and I could and still can sing it!! I thought I was super cool...until...I arrived in Middle School where I was the ONLY one who didn't know who TLC was which almost killed me socially.  At least I wasn't one of those kids wearing bottle caps for glasses...unlike my poor brother! :(  To this day he gets angry about how we never told him that getting those glasses would be the worst mistake he could make in high school.  I still stand by the story that we did try to warn him and he wouldn't listen.  That's my story Timbo!! And I'm stickin to it!

During my years at Payson High School I ran track, sang in the choir, and was a cheerleader.  To get me too and from all of these activities was my trusty car or truck I should say.  Now it was a flat bed truck, and it...was a BEAST! It took up the whole driving lane of a road and could have probably taken out my high school!!! I had to sit on TWO phone books to not see over the steering wheel, but to look THROUGH the steering wheel while I drove.  I could barely reach the pedals because I was about 4''9.  Which leads me to another useless bit of information.  In Utah, anyone under 5 feet tall is considered a "legal midget" (ha. ha. ha. REEEEEEally funny. I know gives you hope for this blog doesn't it?) which requires a "legal midget" to hang a handicap sign from the rearview mirror.  Now, being the prideful and shy person I was...during drivers ed when I found this out I was MORTIFIED! So I did what any self respecting christian "legal midget" would do,  I lied.  On my paper work I filled in the height box with 5"0.  Yup.  Didn't get too far with my drivers ed teacher however.  He called me out in front of everyone!!! "Melissa!! How tall are you?!! Because you seem to have made a mistake, you wrote 5"0 tall!!! You are nowhere near that tall!"   I begged him to please please please not make me a "legal midget"!  He let me off the hook, however, my dad was not so kind.  For months I remember driving with him and as we would drive past the front row joe handicapped spots...he would say "We COULD have parked there if SOMEONE had their handicapped pass!"

 Welcome to my family, welcome to my life. There are many stories to tell, and many more that have yet to happen.