Junk mail identity crisis

Seriously, people.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?!?

I don't usually mind junk mail. I mean, I see it as a huge waste of paper and marketing dollars, but people have their right to send things to me in the mail. One person's junk is another person's treasure, right?

But I'm a girl...and I'm only in my 30's...for crying out loud!

"THE RNC":
One of these days the Republican National Committee will figure out that if they want to get any money from me, they need to address me as MS. Laurel Christensen, or MISS Laurel Christensen. But, MR.? Yeah, that won't get them anywhere. They've been doing it for years. I even sent them the donation slip back last time (in the "No postage necessary if mailed in the United States" envelope) with a little note informing them of the mix up with my gender. Though, in fairness to them, if they want my money they also need to dramatically improve their commitment to fiscal conservatism...but I digress.

Please...I'm a girl. A GIRL. Address your solicitations for donations to a female. Is that too much to ask?

"AS WE CHANGE":
Yeah, you heard me. I got a catalog today from a company by that name. And it refers to exactly what you think it refers to. The catalog features items for the "40+" woman including (and I'm not kidding here) "hot flash pajamas"...to "keep you cool and dry even during hot flashes and night sweats".
How did I get on this list?
How do I get off this list?
(and how do I avoid the temptation to purchase the cool yoga pants, a purchase which would surely ensure my life-long membership on this list!!)

Please...I'm in my 30's...sure, I'm 36, but I'm ONLY 36!! Please save your "designed to address the specific needs of women over 40" products out of my mailbox...at least for another few years.

(but if I get the "non-slip pilates socks" on pg. 18, can we keep that just between us girls?)

How is it that a few pieces of junkmail can make me question my identity?
It's a crisis.
I'm having a crisis.

The Church I needed today...

It was snowy and cold here in Utah this morning and I just couldn't get my cough and lung congestion to a place that was comfortable enough to venture out (well, that an my little fever...)

I let myself watch the morning political shows, because I always let myself do that. It's usually on in the background while I'm getting ready for Church. I know someday I'll be spiritual enough that I won't want to start my Sabbath with George Stephanopoulos (This Week on ABC) and Tim Russert (Meet the Press on NBC), but...(did I just admit that? Is my mic on?). After my political fill, I looked for some religious instruction so I could feel like a got a little bit of church.

First I watched a devotional that Elder Scott gave to the students at BYU earlier this month. It was fantastic. He invited (rather strongly) the students to come to understand the Atonement of Jesus Christ in a very personal way, during their studies at BYU (this reminded me of the chance I had to hear him speak at a work dinner recently where he talked about the atonement in a way I need to write about soon...). I miss those devotionals at BYU.

Then, I watched another devotional that President Faust gave at BYU in 2005. The title was "Where is the Church?" and it was great. President Faust taught that "the church" isn't in the buildings but rather in the heart of each member. So, since I realized that Church for me today needed to be at home and just me, I better get something in my heart. But, how to accomplish that?

Who knew it would be accomplished by my favorite TV station, which I've kind of admitted before...it's one of my very favorite channels. It might have something to do with the Oliver North Iran Contra hearings that I devoured, I think during the summer of 1987...yes, I know, I am a NERD...but now we have not one but TWO C-SPAN options. It's enough to make a girl giddy. But, I digress...

THE POWER OF FORGIVENESS. It was a 2-hour panel discussion as part of their "Book C-Span 2 TV" series. The panel included: Thomas Moore, author of Care of the Soul; Sally Quinn, moderator from the Washington Post; Martin Doblmeier, filmaker (creator of the acclaimed film, The Power of Forgiveness, highlighting the Amish community after the shootings a few years ago, to be seen on a PBS station in your area soon.);Kenneth Briggs, author of the book based on the movie.

I was completely fascinated by this conversation about forgiveness. Mr. Doblmeier talked about the power of memory in forgiveness. He said if we can tell the story in a different way, we can move towards forgiveness.

Then they move onto the apology impact of forgiveness. Mr. Briggs says, "We are more likely to hold on and to vindicate ourselves from something without an apology. I don't think we get very far down the forgiveness trail unless there is some indication on the part of the offender that an offense occurred." Mr. Moore then goes on to talk about the WAY we apologize...that words have power...but that sometimes the tone or the mannerism of the apology can almost take the apology back.

Mr. Doblmeier shares something from Jewish tradition that says if someone sincerely asks for forgiveness three times, the offended has an obligation to forgive. If they cannot, the onus of the offense falls on the offender. He tells of a Holocaust survivor who told the German government "you've done so many good things to rebuild and make things right for the Jews now, but the one thing you have never done is ask for the forgiveness of the Jewish people for what occurred." A few weeks later the President of Germany flew to Israel and did just that. They talked about how important that was...how much good that did...how many world problems would be solved overnight if there was just a sincere apology (made me think about the apologies I need to offer).

I loved the discussion. I thought it was great. I could keep sharing highlights of this truly fascinating 2 hours. They talked about forgiveness from the perspectives of the Jews, Buddists, Christians, etc.

But one word was missing.

President Faust gave a talk at General Conference last April: The Healing Power of Forgiveness. I remembered it and felt compelled to look at it again. I spent some time this morning studying that great message.

And President Faust, of course, mentions the critical element of forgiveness that the panel didn't even bring up...

The Savior Jesus Christ.
HE is the one that makes healing possible.

Without Him and His atoning power, the discussion of the panel is ultimately meaningless. Even if they don't recognize it as such, forgiveness is only possible because of Him. We have to do something with the sadness or anger or betrayal or disappointment in our hearts. Yoga won't do it. Meditation won't do it. Accepting a sincere apology won't even do it. I've been waiting for something that's been right in front of me all along.

Only HE can purify the hurt in our heart.
Only HE can make what was wrong, right.
Only HE can place peace where angst once stood.

What the panel referred to as the POWER of forgiveness, President Faust referred to as the HEALING POWER of forgiveness.
And the kind of power that truly heals is because of HIS power.
And the healing can only be granted by HIM.

I know because I have felt Him granting it to me.
And this was just the Church experience my heart needed today.

Date sick?

I'm sick.
I'm not talking "sick of" something.
I'm actually sick.

It started Tuesday night but I just didn't have the luxury of taking time off. I wasn't that sick. But, every day has gotten a little worse and last night as I was preparing for my first official "play day" day off in FOREVER, I knew my body was saying, "yeah, that's all well and good but did you notice we've been sick since Tuesday and you've been ignoring it? NO PLAY FOR YOU!". By the time I woke up this morning, my throat and head just weren't cooperating. Argh!

So, now, I'm sitting here on my couch, watching The Today Show (I know, I'm a political hypocrite), bundled in my favorite blue & green plaid Eddie Bauer blanket, with my hair all askew (sp?), trying to figure out what is the appropriate time to call my date for tonight and tell him I'm unavailable.

Yeah, you heard me...my DATE for tonight.

I had to make a goal to go out with a different guy every month until I find someone to at least be in a "psuedo" relationship with (meaning you can pretend you are dating exclusively even though you maybe aren't but it gets you off the hook for other dating until one of you gets sick of the other person and it's time to start dating again). Might not sound like much to some of you but considering I only went out with five different guys last year (and, we won't talk about the numbers for the 3 years prior to that), it's quite a goal. This was supposed to be my March "different guy" and, much like Visiting Teaching, I was barely going to make it.

Between my travel schedule and his "every other weekend with the kids" schedule, we have been trying to officially go out for six weeks.

Yeah, you heard me...KIDS.

How did I get to the place where I'm talking about going on dates with men who have children? But, they do. I swear, they all do. And not just children, but "every other weekend with the kids" children. As common as I know it is, it still makes me sad. (Not sad about the man, divorce is at least proof of commitment at one time!...grin...) Have I gotten old? Have I missed something? It's enough to make me just a little under the weather.

Except this guy seems great.
And this cold is legitimate.
I'm not "date" sick.
I'm sick sick.

Now to make the phone call...

Sometimes I'm a little slower than the other kids

I really got the better end of the deal in terms of perspective on this one.
And I think the Lord knew I needed it.

I was driving on the freeway during the morning commute as I do every day. Driving along, minding my own business, maybe a little faster than I should. I noticed flashing lights behind me and immediately slowed down (didn't want a repeat of a few weeks ago!). I watched through my rearview mirror to see who the poor person would be to get pulled over.

But, no one got pulled over.

Instead the highway patrol car just kept weaving back and forth, getting in front of any car who tried to get in front of him. He was clearly taking control and trying to slow traffic down and it was working. I was far enough ahead that he didn't get in front of me.

Odd.

I remember actually thinking that maybe he was just "power hungry" and wanting to see what he could do to slow traffic down. I found myself, in some ways, alone on the freeway. The cars ahead of me kept going at their normal speed but I slowed down a bit because I was curious. It was obvious no one else saw what was happening.

But, I kept watching through my rearview mirror. Why was he slowing them down?

As I came around a bend in the freeway, I noticed another policeman pulled over in the fast lane with his lights going. And then I saw it.

There was a big piece of debris in the middle of the freeway.
The kind of big piece of debris that would have done A LOT of damage to a car who hit it OR tried to swerve to avoid it, perhaps swerving into another car.

The officer was waiting for the cars in front of me to pass and then he ran out to move the debris before the next big stretch of cars came upon it.

All was well.

But, you know what was interesting? The debris was gone by the time the next big stretch of cars got to it. They never knew the reason for the "slow down".

A couple of weeks ago, a friend made a comment to me about "timing". We all know that sometimes things in life are all about timing. But, not just the timing of things happening (which is the way I often think of it) but the timing of understanding.

Because I was five seconds ahead of that next big stretch of cars, I had the advantage of seeing with my own eyes the debris in the road. I knew the reason for the "slow down". Had I been five seconds behind in my schedule, I likely would have been the first car the highway patrol started slowing down. I would have been annoyed at his tactics...never realizing what he was protecting us from.

But, I saw it.
I saw, with my own eyes, the debris in the road.
And I had no reason to question the actions of the patrolman.

Sometimes in life, the Lord has to intervene on our behalf. He does something to slow US down, or slow IT down. Sometimes it's tempting to not see that it is HIM purposely doing the slowing. We think it's us...our mistake...our "bad luck"...our failure. And because we think it was US, we want to fix it.

But, really, there's just something ahead that we can't see. There's something ahead that He needs to protect us from. And, like those cars in that next big batch, we may NEVER see it. We may never know what was there. And so, we have to trust that there was a reason for the intervention...we have to trust the TIMING of the intervention.

In this case, I really believe I was supposed to be that one lone car five seconds ahead of the other cars. The Lord needed me to see the "big picture" of this simple morning commute slow down. He needed me to internalize it so I could see His hand in my own life...in my own slow down...

It was Him. It was His timing.
BUT, not just in the "intervention", but in the understanding too. Sometimes we need to struggle before we understand. The timing of that is just important.

As always, He knows what I need to see so I can learn what I need to understand.
The timing of the WHY is just as important as the timing of the WHAT.

Sometimes I'm a little slower than the other kids. I'm SO grateful He teaches me in the way I need to be taught. And that He was even willing to inconvenience a bunch of His other children during the morning commute just so I could get the better end of the deal in terms of perspective.
A new, much needed, perspective.

TTA: The Working Girl

So, I joined a little club.
My cousin Jamie is a part of it and I found it through her (though it took me FOREVER to figure out what "TTA" stood for!). It's a great little blog that suggests blog topics for Tuesday.
It's called, appropriately enough, Tuesday Tell All.

This week's topic?
The Working Girl.

So, here's what I have done in my life, prior to where I am now (because the prior is far more funny)...
SUMMER NANNY. It was my first real job. I nannied for a family the summer between my junior and senior year. And, I'm embarrassed to admit, I watched Days of Our Lives everyday.

TJMaxx. I loved that job. I started out on the sales floor working Lay-away (does that even exist anymore?) but quickly advanced to the Customer Service desk. I was good. Well, until I almost got fired when I let Susan Rees use my 10% employee discount so she could buy her dad a tie for Father's Day...yes, I actually was willing to lose my job to save Susan Rees $1.20 just so she would think I was cool. And, eventually I DID lose my job...because I wasn't willing to work Sundays and they got tired of that rule. I'm sure there was a lawsuit there somewhere, but they had the "$1.20" on me, so we called it even...grin...

MTC Cafeteria. My first college job was at the Missionary Training Center. I wanted to be just like my sister Heather and that's where she started. Within the first month, I cut my thumb separating some glasses that some missionaries had stuck together with honey. Oh, those mature elders! I had to get stitches (I still have the scar!) and was told not to work in the dishroom for 7-10 days because I couldn't get my wound wet. Well, the mean male boss made me come in the following Saturday (less than a week later). Some of you know this story...
I was taking the big cookie tray from the dishwasher to the bakery and on my way back to the main part of the kitchen, I slipped. I flew up in the air and landed smack down on my tailbone. I remember not feeling my legs and my overly-dramatic mind immediately knew I was paralyzed (I could just see me as the girl in "The Other Side of the Mountain"). I was taken out to the ambulance through the dining hall. A hush flew over the missionaries. Two cute elders ran out after me, "Does she need a blessing?" The paramedics told them no. A few bum x-rays later, I was told I had a bruised cocyx. I lived on a donut pillow for the next several weeks while on workman's comp from the dishroom. They quickly figured out I was an expensive employee and it was eventually suggested that I might be better suited for...

The MTC Mailroom. I metered my thumb the very first week while flirting with an elder (hey! they were there away from girlfriends. It was a PRIME place to meet a boyfriend! And the boys back then looked MUCH older!). I also remember the night (back when people used to be able to drop off goodies) I dumped a homemade strawberry pie upside down on the floor in front of the elder who was there to pick it up. I became known as the girl who dropped treats and for several weeks no one wanted to give me their package slip. I met Erin at the mailroom...and I met my gum stalker there too (that's another story for another time). It was the most perfect college job for me and I loved it.

After my mission (in fact, I think a lot of the reason I went on a mission was because of all I saw and felt while working at the MTC. I used to sneak into the Tuesday night devotionals and I did keep in touch w/ a fair amount of my guy friends who did the mission thing), I went back to the MTC where I taught for a semester before going to the Travel Office. I stayed there until I graduated about a year later.

After graduation, I moved to Connecticut for a while and did some temp work, went to St. Louis and worked a data accounting job at my Dad's company (the longest month of my life!) and then came back to UT after a dream I had climbing a mountain (another story for another time).

Long story, short, I eventually landed as a part-time marketing events specialist at Deseret Book Company (after typing transcripts of news and talk shows for Burelle's Transcription Services every night from 5-10 p.m. wondering WHY ON EARTH the Lord had told me to come back to Utah!). I've had so many different opportunities at the good 'ol DB and am now in the spot I was meant to be in (and to think it all started in the dishroom!)

Maybe not the "glamorous working girl" of the movies, but a working girl nonetheless. Ah, life...as a working girl...

Well now, this explains a lot...

This is just one of those things when you have to question whether or not you should actually admit...
a.) that I wasted time taking these silly quizzes
and
b.) the results are maybe a little too "spot on"

Ah, what the hey! Here it is:

Which Peanuts Character Are You?
	You are Lucy van Pelt. You know what you want and you know how to get it, even if it means pulling the football away. Your forwardness sometimes comes off as aggression, and you have some work to do in the sensitivity department.

Perhaps a little too spot on for my comfort! OH MY!
Any other Lucy's out there? Come on!
This is even MORE funny when you consider this:

What Kind of Guy Will You Fall For?
	You would fall part for the sensitive guy. You'll find your future man wherever turtlenecks are sold. He will have depth, introspection, and a disturbing knowledge of musical theatre. And he may be a little weird. But hey, while your girlfriends cry over broken hearts, you'll be having Shakespeare read to you every night.

Shakespeare, Jane Austen, it's all the same. I know E. Fast is DYING on this one. DYING. I got a kick out of it too. One thing every boy I've given a part of my heart to has had in common is a disturbing knowledge of musical theatre. And these are NOT gay men (not that there is anything wrong with that...). I've actually decided maybe a guy who grunts and watches football might be a better match...since the "turtleneck" guys haven't worked out so well...yet...

Now, that's just nothing but funny.
And it sure explains a lot.
And I mean A LOT.

Now for the treadmill.
Well, because that's what Lucy would do!

A different kind of resurrection

I remember as a missionary teaching what was then the 2nd discussion.
We taught several things in that discussion, one of which was the doctrine of the resurrection. I remember thinking that it would be great to see those who have passed before and that was because of the resurrection, that I would be able to live again after I died, etc.; but I also knew I didn't really "get it". I had no idea why the resurrection was really so important...what it really meant for me.

I'm sure in many ways I still don't.

But, in a new way I get it now on a level that has deep personal meaning. Unbeknownst to me, I've been "getting it" piece by piece the past few weeks.

The first level is an understanding of what the resurrection means about Jesus Christ. If He was resurrected with a body of flesh and bones (which of course, He was...Luke 24:2-3, 39, 42-43; John 20: 1-10, 25-29), then He is still a resurrected being with a body of flesh and bones. This is significant for so many reasons, not the least of which is what it teaches about the doctrine of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost being three distinct beings. That is so important to me now. And though I'm embarrassed to admit it, I never made that connection when I was a missionary.

There are other understandings as well, of course. But, I know you didn't sign up for a Sunday School class when you chose to read this post. So, let me just move to a thought I have overflowing in my soul this morning.

The symbolism of the resurrection...
for me...
this morning...

What are the answers to these questions for you today:
Is there something I need to "lay down" & overcome?
Is there something I need to rise up to?
Is there a change that I need to undertake so I can experience a mighty, miraculous resurrection of my own?

We sometimes choose to teach the Easter resurrection with the empty egg. We talk about the empty egg as a symbol of the empty tomb. But, here is the thing that the empty egg fails to accurately teach. It provides the picture that nothing was left behind. But, that's not true.
Christ didn't leave nothing behind.
In the symbolism of the empty tomb, we see that He left behind:
the finality of death
the betrayal of His friends
the pains of being rejected by His own people
the skepticism people had of His ministry and His miracles
the scorning and the scuffing of those He was in the midst of saving

This morning, for me, the tomb isn't actually empty.
Though it contains nothing that can be seen with the natural eye, it contains those things which were overcome.
And no one but the Son of God could have overcome any of it.
But, because He overcame, I can too.
In many ways, that is the message of His entire life.
That is the message for me this Easter morning.

If I want to truly "resurrect" the better version of who I can be, I need to be willing to leave behind the things that would like to hold me back. I need to be willing to overcome the things that sometimes seem "un-overcome-able". I need to conquer those things, those emotions, those beliefs that would keep me from being the woman I was born to be.

"For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."
(1 Corinthians 15:22)

That truth has new meaning for me this morning.
Jesus Christ has made it possible for me to be "made alive", not just from earthly physical death at some future day; but alive now...today...this month...this year...as alive as I am willing to be...living the life I was meant to live.

I'd like to go back and share that testimony and that understanding, of a different kind of resurrection, with the good people I had the privilege of teaching in the California Riverside Mission.

Happy Easter.

Consider yourself told...

I know some of you get bugged when you hear things on my blog for the first time, but really, there are just some things that you don't necessarily send in an email or say in a phone call...
So...since a few already know about this...
You might remember "the tow truck parable". Oh, it's a classic. Involves my gum stalker, actually.
Well, for those of you who have been dying to have it in print, in a book...the long wait is over (come on, humor me!). Consider yourself told.

And speaking of being told, consider yourself told about:
How cute is the cover? Here's hoping the content is worthy of the cute cover (I love that girls get to love pink!). Should be out in a few weeks. I just want it to do some good.

And, as long as I'm saying something about this...the product director has some plans for this...for me...it's all a little awkward for me (and by "a little", I mean "a lot") but I've decided to trust him and to let this do some good if it can. SO, if you start to see things, please just give me the benefit of the doubt that my heart is in the right place...that I am not pushing any of this...or seeking any of it...I just need to say that. I want to shout it, actually. And I don't have any other platform to share my concerns and insecurities about the appearance of what I'm doing. So, there it is.

I just need the people I love to know my concern.
So, consider yourself loved.

I'm ruined...forever...

And do you want to know who I can blame?
My sister Heather...
and Lisa Lu
and East of Eden
and Erin H.

Yes, all four of you. You're in SO much trouble.
a.) for telling me about North & South
and
b.) for not telling me about it sooner!!

I got my heart a little broken last year (and by "little", I mean a lot). That's not a huge secret and I have no pride left that needs to act like I didn't. I know...I know...why would ANYONE pass this girl up, right? But, he did (and the irony of how this has all played out is SO another post) and a little turn of events has stirred it up a bit the past 2 weeks.
SO, I came home tonight totally prepared to rid myself of the angst by cleaning my house (it's my first free weekend since Feb. 1...kid you not...and if you look around my house, you can tell), catch up with a girlfriend, and maybe let myself wallow in some ice cream. And I just kind of gave myself permission (as did Tyler) to wallow all weekend if need be.

But, then, I experienced this:
Could Mr. Thornton be any dreamier?!? He's as great as Captain Von Trapp!)
And now, I'm ruined...forever.

Why?

Because, as I've admitted before, I've always claimed to be a hopeless romantic. I'm such a sucker for a great love story.
But, I realized tonight, I'm not a hope-less romantic. I'm a hope-FULL romantic. I am. And, that is probably worse.

But, I don't care so much. I LOVE the feeling you get after you see one of these classics (it's the same feeling that says, "Laurel, walk away from the ice cream."). And I still think the feeling is real. I still think it's possible. I still totally believe love like that exists.

So, though I'm likely ruined forever now, I need to thank the culprits of the ruining for telling me to check out this great saga.
LOVED IT!
LOVED IT!
LOVED IT!
And, you were right...it is even a little better than Wives & Daughters.

Ice cream has been dumped down the sink (really, truly, I totally dumped it!) and now I'm going to clean my house (at least the downstairs).
No angst.
No wallowing.

I might even do something CRAZY and get on my treadmill!
I guess I'm not so ruined after all...

Just the attention I needed today

To my friendly stalker who left this (well, one pack of it...with 2 pieces missing...) for me on my car tonight.
Thanks. I owe you.
(btw, if you are looking for the best gum ever in the history of gum, this is it. It's not easy to find but with a little bit of hard work and determination...or a friendly stalker...you can find it.)

Why I need attention....

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 9 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

Okay, sure, they have my name...but no one is quite like me, right?
(And how many of YOU are there? I'm guessing there is ONLY ONE of my mother!)

Maybe I need attention because there just aren't very many of me...
so maybe it's not that I NEED attention but people need to give attention to a "Laurel Christensen" and I'm the only one they know.
Could that be it?

Where is this coming from, you ask?
My little brother.

Tonight he told me that I need attention (in fairness to him, he acknowledged he needs it too. And boy, does he ever!).
Can you believe that? ME?...NEED ATTENTION?

I NEED ATTENTION!

But, I don't need attention in a narcissistic (and yes, that's right...I did "spellcheck") way.
I need attention as a reminder.

Like, I need comments on the blog to remind me that there are people I'm connected to.
I need people to laugh when I'm funny to remind me that I have a sense of humor.
I need an occassional voicemail from my nieces and nephews to remind me I'm a good aunt.
I need my Grandpa to call me to remind me that I'm loved.
I need someone to smile to remind me that I'm seen.

So, you see, little brother. I just want to know that I exist. I need to know that I'm real. And I need reminders of that sometimes.
So, yes, I guess I do need attention.

But at least now you know why.
(and maybe the fact that I'm the 3rd child and that I was only 6 when "the prince" of the family was born who suddenly got all the attention and became Dad's pride and joy...did you know I had to wear a little pin every time I wanted to spend 20 minutes with dad?...yeah, maybe that has something to do with it too...but I digress...).

(P.S. Dave also told me that I was way too vague in my last post...we had a good laugh...let's just forget about the mirror comment, okay?)

My testimony of boys who offer their jackets...

...when it's cold.

And my testimony of the detox...
and the frownies...
and water...
and my treadmill...

I so don't have time to post this morning but I have a meeting out of the office and I have a few minutes and without going into too much detail, I just noticed the funniest thing this morning. Unfortunately, this isn't a "chiquitas only" blog and so I won't embarrass all the other readers, but let's just say that it was one of those mornings where I noticed something different whilst getting ready for the day. And it just made me giggle (well, first I gasped...then I giggled).

But, that's not the point of the post (though it WAS the impetus).

A few weeks ago, I spoke to a group of young women and their parents in an area where I lived like 8 years ago. One of the dads (who I had known pretty well when I lived there) came up to me and said, "I don't know what you are doing, but keep doing it. You look better than you did 8 years ago."
YES! Thank you, detox!

Then two weeks ago, I spoke to a great group of women in rural Utah. I loved these women. They were good...solid...REAL! It was wonderful. Afterwards one of the women came up to me and asked if I was open to being set up. "Sure", I said to her. ("Ugh", I said to myself). "But", I added, "Maybe you should know how old I am first." "Oh", she said, "yes, I'm worried you might think he's too old."
He's like 34. She thought I was 28. (can you say "WAHOOO!"?)
YES! Thank you, frownies!

Then this last weekend, I was in a city in the NW and it was chilly. The group I was with went for dinner. I forgot to take anything remotely "wintery" with me. One of the guys in the group insisted, after dinner, that I wear his jacket on the way back to the hotel. I declined. He insisted. I declined. He insisted.
You see, when you spend your life as "a little bit bigger than the other girls", unlike most, the offer of a jacket isn't a positive. If the guy is smaller than you, you're worried it won't fit. If he's bigger than you, you're worried it will! (grin) But, the insisting was more than my declining and I was forced to take the jacket from the guy I could have broken in two (as my friend Tammy would say).
It fit...just fine.
YES! Thank you, treadmill!

So, because of the experiences of the last few weeks and my testimony that I'm FINALLY doing SOMETHING that is working...
I'm totally okay with the little mirror experience this morning (and able to giggle instead of cry!)

Let's go to lunch and I'll tell you all about it (if'n you're a chiquita like me!)

Courage for the corner

I was just headed to bed and something reminded me of where I was a year ago.

Without going into too much detail, this time last year, I was recovering from a bit of an emotionally intense surgery. A surgery that could have had a dramatic impact on many things in my life. Happily, it all turned out okay. I was "clean" from any potential danger and got good news. (And then, I ended up getting pneumonia and spent a couple of weeks at home recovering...with my sweet mom who stayed with me for 17 days. Thanks, Mom!!)

It was a really scary & difficult time prior to everything turning out okay. My little heart and my little mustard seed of faith were put to the test.
I learned a lot.
I grew a lot.

And yet, it was nothing compared to what was ahead.

Unbeknownst to me, I was approaching a corner.
Little did I know that the previous weeks had been preparing me for THAT.

I love that little quote up on the top left of this blog:
Courage can't see around corners, but goes around them anyway.

I hadn't really ever been so courageous.
But, something compelled me to approach the corner, albeit cautiously.
And then, I was encouraged to go around it.
And I did.

Courage is an interesting thing because you can have it one minute and wonder where it went the next. Courage can be fickle. It's easy to be courageous until it gets scary (don't mock the simpleness of that statement...it's the truth!).

And that's what happened to me. My courage was fickle.

I had the courage to walk to the corner. I had the courage to trust it was safe to go around it. And then, suddenly, it seemed that nothing was there and my courage left me.

But, I would go around it again.

Because, truth be told, going around that corner a year ago is one of the best things I ever did.
And I would do it again, if given the chance.

I'm in need of some courage right now.
All is well, to be sure.
This isn't a bad thing at all.
I'm not in a bad spot.
Just needing the courage of trusting that, though I can't see what is around the corner, the Lord is aware of what is there...and it might really be something.

Here's to corners!
...and the brave girls who go around them!

More than a mission

What a week. What a month. What a year.
What a life.
I'm tired and yet oddly energized.

I have been richly blessed in a hundred ways. I could list them all (though I kind of did that in honor of my birthday). I'm one of those people who has been able to be in the right place at the right time more often than not. NOT because I got myself to that place, but because the Lord has let me be in that place.

I don't talk about my job much here. Perhaps because it is more of my life than sometimes I'd like. And every now and then I want to pretend that there is more to my life than my job.

But, the reality is that my job is so much of my life because it's more than a job. I saw (or rather "felt") that this weekend in a way I haven't before.

I've had a bit of a passion for the concept of "life missions"...discovering my own...helping young women think about theirs...I'm intrigued by the notion of specific plans for specific people at specific times. I believe in life missions very much.

I have seen that part of my life mission is my current career. I love what I do. I feel blessed to do what I do. I'm challenged by what I do. I'm exhilerated by what I do. I'm exhausted by what I do (grin). But, I've given it my all because I have felt so deeply that it is, in fact, a part of my life mission.

But, a few weeks ago, an influencer in my life gave me a new invitation. She invited me to discover my ministry.

Ministry.

Interesting word. Jesus had a mission, yes. But he also had a ministry. And really, without the ministry, His mission would have been meaningless.

I served a mission for the Mormon church.
When you set out to serve a mission, you have this grand notion that you are going out to do some grand service for the world. What you do not know is that it's actually a grand service for YOURSELF. My mission was far more for (and about) ME than anyone else.

But, a ministry is different.
A ministry is what I DO FOR OTHERS or HOW I do for others with that mission...or rather, because of that mission.

I've never thought about that before.
(And this is an early thought process so bear with me...)

Here's the application for some of you:
A woman might have, as part of her mission, the charge to be a mother to her children...not a child care provider...but a MOTHER. Her ministry, however, is HOW she is a mother...HOW she loves her children...HOW she teaches them...

Does that make sense?

So, I've discovered a part of my mission. But, now I want to discover how to implement that mission through my ministry. And perhaps, in the early stages of life we just need to know the mission and focus on that...perhaps the ministry comes later (and maybe, I'm just old enough that now it's later?)

Paul spoke to some disciples in Corinth who had "addicted themselves to the ministry of the Saints" (1 Cor. 16:14). As a girl who knows what it is to be addicted to ice cream (less now than before the detox), I want to know what it is to be addicted...ADDICTED...to the ministry. MY ministry.

I suppose I need to truly discover it first.

I sense I'm headed on a new part of my life journey.
I'm feeling oddly energized (though no less exhausted).

But, think about it...what is YOUR ministry?

My brother is deeper than me...

At least tonight.
I'm tired tonight.
And I'm feeling overwhelmed.

But, I felt the need to check out the blogs that I love to read and when I got to my brother's blog (and Karen is quite the writer too!), I knew why.

My "little" (or better said, "younger but wiser") brother David is a pretty deep guy. I love talking to him.

Find out for yourself why by reading his latest post.

I had to read it twice to really get it (because, hey, I'm tired!) but it's worth the read.

Can't say anything better.
Love you, little brother!

Laurel's Laurels...

Some of you have already gotten a kick out of my assignment to plan Girls Camp in my ward. And no, they didn't approve us staying at the Hampton Inn.

(sidenote: the Serta "Cloud Nine" bed in all H.I.'s now are TO DIE FOR! I would choose a Hampton room over the finest Marriott resort bed...truly...stay there next time you are looking for a hotel room. I'm actually buying one with my tax refund. And as an extra measure of faith, I'm even getting a King size...Okay, where was I?)

Well, today, I was also asked to teach the 16 & 17 year old girls (in the LDS Church that age group is called "the Laurels"...don't ask me why. I have NO idea BUT my mom was the "Laurel" teacher when she was pregnant with ME...and thus the name. Okay, where was I??)

I could not be happier about it. These are GREAT girls. I've already tried so hard to infiltrate their circle and just a few weeks ago, two of them came to visit me one night...wearing their dresses for the school dance so I could see them...we laughed and talked about boys...and I knew the infiltration had been successful. These are GOOD girls and I am anxious to help them figure out how good they are (and to introduce them to Wives & Daughters). I feel so blessed and am so grateful the Lord would let me do this right now.
I can just tell I need it right now.
I really need THEM right now.

I like being a Laurel again...

Wives & Daughters...and the new Mr. Darcy?

For all you lovers of Jane Austen. For all those who take great joy in watching the 6-hour version of Pride & Prejudice. For all those who long to experience something in that category worthy of your time. Wives and Daughters is my new favorite thing. The screenwriter and producer (Andrew Davies) is the same as P&P and WOWZERS!

Davies says, "More than almost any book I know, this neglected masterpiece tells us what it feels like to be alive."

I have to agree. Now that I've experienced it for myself, I might have to say...gasp...that it...gasp...rivals...I know...I can't believe it either...but it really is as good as...it's true! It really is! And it actually gives you the "payoff" that P&P just never quite delivers. You know what I mean? (The end-of-the-movie "Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy" scene in the Kiera Knightley version notwithstanding.)

It's funny. It's charming.
It's witty. It's tragic.
You'll laugh. You'll cry (I dare say "bawl" during a couple of scenes).
It's everything you could want in a quintessential love story.
It is absolutely deeelightful. Fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing.
Roger Hamley is the new Mr. Darcy. Almost.
Run...don't walk...and get yourself a copy.
I'm serious about this. RUN!

I am much pleased. MUCH.

(Thanks to my sister Heather for giving it as a Christmas gift in 2006. What missed moments of happiness I've had waiting so long to watch it!!)

I met someone tonight!

It was out of the blue, really.

I mean, I was having an unusually great hair day, so I maybe shouldn't have been so surprised. But, I dared not think I could be THAT lucky? Especially after the week I've had...could I really be THAT lucky?

The fun thing about it is that he approached me first. I was just kind of in my own world and the next thing I knew, we were talking. It wasn't much. But he asked for my information...my "digits", if you will. He told me he couldn't remember the last time he met someone so nice.

He suggested we get together again...almost immediately...not less than 5 days from now but not more than 14 days (because very few want to wait longer than 2 weeks to see me again)...but the "not less than 5 days"...curious, eh?

But, SUCH a nice guy.
And single.
I found that out almost immediately.

I just can't believe how it all played out. The connection was so quick...and seemed so natural...And the instant I noticed him, it was like I saw bright flashing lights. White...and blue...and red.

There was something there.
I felt it.
And I think I'll feel it again when I see him...within 14 days...
...at Draper City Court.

His last name was Lees. His first name was Officer.

I was going 62 in a 45 (blast that Mazda CX-7 turbo engine!).
But, because I was so nice (and really, I kind of overdid it), and I'm sure because of my really great hair (because, really, I don't like to talk about it much, but it IS great), he only cited me for five over the speed limit. Nice of him, eh?

Nice Officer Lees.
Was it my delightful demeanor or my really great hair that did it for you?
I'll ask you next time we connect...you know...in court...

Me & Emma...and Mr. Knightly

A few weeks ago, my friend E.Fast sent me a Jane Austen quiz...one of those "which character are you?" quizzes. I took it multiple times and kept coming up with a character that was SO not me.

But, I was sent a new quiz.
I took it.
I took it just once.
And for the most part, I was much pleased.

You are Emma Woodhouse...
"You are such a busy-body and love nothing more than poking your nose into peoples’ business - your intentions are always good but you are inclined to believe that you are the best judge of every situation. You are clever and have a lively, active imagination which delights in match-making your closest friends. You are a wonderful, caring daughter and a loyal friend. Sometimes you speak before you think and it lands you in trouble. You love having your own way and hate being wrong, but you are of a happy disposition and never stay troubled for long."

Now, while I don't consider myself a "busy-body" per se (just someone who is interested in the lives of others with the best of intentions, of course!), the rest of it is pretty darn close (and frighteningly so!).
I love thinking myself clever.
I certainly have an "active imagination".
And I definitely often speak before I think (too many post examples to link to just one)!

So, I'll take the less desirable traits because I love thinking myself to be Emma. I love having my love of a Mr. Knightly validated. I like to think I could one day be a "marry me, my wonderful, darling friend" to him (that line makes me swoon!). The mere thought makes me giggle with glee.
I know...I am hopelessly (and tragically) romantic.
But, I am much pleased.

So, which Jane Austen character are you?

I wanted a window. I needed a mirror.

So, I've had a fairly intense 48 hours. It started with the Hertz Rental guy and then quickly moved to someone else.

Without going into too much detail, I had to review the judgement and decisions and "rightness" of someone I trust very much. Because of the influence this person has in my life, I found myself reviewing several things (forgive me for talking in such veiled words).

It was like I was looking at my life through a different window than I'd ever looked through before. And I don't mind that. Windows are helpful.
But, while I was looking, I did a lot of thinking, a lot of remembering, a lot of crying and a fair amount of praying.

I discovered it wasn't a window I was looking through.
It was a mirror.

I wasn't prepared for that.

Because the mirror showed me it wasn't about the judgement, decisions and "rightness" of someone I trust; it was about the judgement, decisions and "rightness" of me.

Unbeknownst to me, I have spent the last 48 hours re-evaluating the way I process information, make decisions, and stand by my convictions. I've questioned so many things that I haven't had to question before.

I think it's interesting that this life journey is so much about our influence and impact on one another. For good or for bad, our interactions with each other have consequences. But, what I find more interesting is how those interactions ultimately reveal much more about ourselves than the other people.

Do you know what I mean?

When we look at others and evaluate them...when we consider their impact on us and make judgements...ultimately we are really looking at ourselves. I really believe that.

And I guess that's the way it needs to be. I guess because it's easier to "psycho-analyze" and assess others, that assessment is then easier to internalize. We can look at ourselves differently because we've looked at others differently. I find that interesting.

I love figuring out that what I thought was a window turned out to be a mirror. Had I known that's what it was initially, I would have never kept looking. But, I really needed to look. I needed to learn some things about myself. I didn't want it. But, I needed it.

I wanted a window.
But, I needed a mirror.

And I probably need to keep looking still (and see more than just my great hair...sorry...couldn't resist).

I heart EW

It's about time, right?

I met EW a week ago Friday. We met at one of my favorite dining establishments in the Salt Lake valley (the Citris Grill). There were a lot of people there that I knew he needed to meet...so it wasn't like it was just the two of us. But, it was great.

You have to know that as soon as I met EW and shook his hand, I instantly knew I would like him. You know how some people just beam goodness? You can just tell they are the full package? Yeah, EW is one of those people. He's just an all around really great guy.

And then when he told me my shoes were great (the aforementioned new shiny bright red peep-toe ones), well, I knew we were a match.

Okay, maybe not a match...but definitely meant to be.

Here are all the reasons I like EW:
1.) He seems to think I'm funny (I've already mentioned I'm a sucker for boys who think I'm funny).
2.) He was surprised to learn I wasn't already dating someone.
3.) He liked my shoes (did I mention that already?)
4.) He's from New York...and everything in New York is cool.
5.) He's successful and has GOBS of ambition and drive.
6.) He lives in Denver...and I think Denver is just about as cool as New York
7.) He thinks my voice is....dare I say it...sexy. How fun is that?
8.) He's not the kind of person who would have gotten annoyed at the Hertz Rental guy last night.
9.) He has great family traditions (like throwing a pie in the unsuspecting face of the person who is having a birthday ending in a "0").
10.) He is so good to my friend Erin (who's recent post about a sofa scammer is just nothing but funny!)

My friend Erin. EW is her guy...he's not mine (sorry to get any of you too excited about that). But, I have to give a SHOUT OUT to EW. On behalf of all the girls out there who haven't found one yet, it's just nice to know that good guys like you are still out there.

I heart you.
But you already know that.

I'm sorry, Mr. Hertz Rental Guy

I am a delightful girl for the most part. I really am. Sometimes I'm so delightful I'm forced to wonder how on earth a nice girl like me hasn't gotten snatched up yet.
Really, sometimes I am just THAT delightful.

But, then sometimes, I'm not delightful.
Sometimes I'm annoyed.

Now, in fairness, it's been an intense week...work pressures, school, boys (and wowzers! I've got a doozy of a story there)...did I mention work? And it's been a tiring week too. I'm just tired. And when I get tired, I tend to be more easily frustrated and more easily annoyed.

The frustrating thing is that I was having a perfectly amazing weekend. Our first event of the year and it was Mary Poppins (practically perfect in every way) and I was SO very pleased. And I was driving back from Idaho Falls with several of the presenters, some of my all time favorite people, having a perfectly delightful time talking about life and politics and having a grand time.

And then it all came to a crashing halt when, after droppping off the aforementioned presenters, I took the rental back to Hertz.

I don't like Hertz.

Somehow they managed to end a perfectly amazing weekend.
Why?
Because in a matter of 30 seconds, I went from completely delightful & nice Laurel to annoyed Laurel (Some of you know exactly who I'm talking about).

Annoyed Laurel isn't gum-chewing Laurel. Tam will attest that THAT Laurel is totally laid back and pretty darn funny.
Annoyed Laurel isn't work-out Laurel. My trainer (I like saying "my trainer" in casual conversation whenever I can) will attest that THAT Laurel might be whiny but she's got determination and is generally pretty pleasant.
Annoyed Laurel isn't young women Laurel. My girls will attest that THAT Laurel is full of love and fun.
Annoyed Laurel isn't shopping Laurel. Erin can attest that THAT Laurel is a push-over for things she'll only wear once (counting the time she tries them on) and is pretty much a joy to be around.

Simply put, annoyed Laurel isn't Laurel at all (though apparently she gets a kick out of talking in 3rd person...which ironically, really annoys delightful Laurel.)

I was SO not delightful tonight and I'm more bugged about the fact that I wasn't delightful than the reason for my lack of delight.
And that is why the reason for my being annoyed isn't the issue.
The fact that I let myself get annoyed is that issue.

And why do I let myself get annoyed (and thus, not delightful) about things that have NO eternal significance. It was JUST an inconvenience. It was JUST money. It was JUST a car rental.

S. Michael Wilcox talked today about "Doubting Thomas" and how interesting it is that he is remembered as the DOUBTER when really that was just one moment when he was less non-doubting than he usually was. But, no one remembers the other traits and faith of Thomas. They just remember the doubting.

I worry about that with me.
I don't want to be remembered as "Annoyed Laurel".
But, the poor guy at Hertz, who I'm certain I will never see again, has NO reason to think of me any differently than that.
I gave him NO evidence that "Delightful Laurel" exists.
Which is a shame...because that girl is a keeper.

So, Mr. Hertz Rental guy...
I'm sorry.
I really am.
I want you to know that I will think of you the next time Annoyed Laurel is tempted to come out.
And I'll count to 10 or something (or maybe I'll start chewing some gum).

But, I'll remember this tonight...and react differently...because you, and everyone else I encounter, deserve to know non-annoyed Laurel.
Really. I'm a keeper.