Just Jody

TMFH: Those days

2012-01-26T10:59:00.000-06:00

On those days when everyone keeps talking to me about the one thing I just can't bare to talk about and I am upset and come home all weepy eyed and tell you all about it, I don't want you to fix the problem.

I want chocolate and a tight squeeze.

Nothing more.

Oh my job...

2012-01-23T16:53:00.000-06:00

I will often have my students 'trade and grade' because it makes my life just a little bit easier when I am grading quizzes. (Obviously I don't do this for Tests)

Today I found this on a paper...

I wrote on his paper: Do not write anything more than your name on the paper you grade. Kevin's parents do not care that you are a 'triple O.G. gangster' or your thug status.

Kids these days.

TMFH: Sacrament Talks

2012-01-21T11:40:00.000-06:00

The day before I give a talk, you are basically my slave. Feed me, listen to me, scratch my back while I'm pondering and make sure everything and everyone else leaves me alone.

Its what Jesus would do.

Things Worth Waiting For...

2012-01-17T12:44:00.000-06:00

Remember that one time when I blogged about kissing?

Yeah me neither. This is a dad warning...aka dad, unless you want to hear about my kissing history, you should probably stop reading. Continue reading at your own risk.

I am not patient.

Fo'real.

I get annoyed when the person in front of me takes forever checking out and I get pretty perturbed if the person behind me in line at security ends up getting through the pat down before me. Did I also mention I'm super mature. Cuz I am.

When I was 16 years old, I met a pretty awesome guy, who's name will not be mentioned, mainly because I don't feel like asking him if its okay to write about him. But if you're reading this, Hey! How's it going? Anyways, as most boy/girl 16 year old relationships go, we started dating. He was practically perefect in every way, kind of like the male version of Mary Poppins, or Sherry Bobbins, or Mark Wahlberg ( in which case he would be the Mormon equivalent to him since they are both already male...) but there was just one problem- his parents had promised him $1000 if he made it his entire four years of high school without having his first kiss.

I don't know if their motivation was to keep their kid out of the back seat of a car, or maybe it was one of those things that you say to someone knowing full well that you'll never have to make good on the promise because it is completely unattainable ( like telling me you'll pay me $1000 to not be sarcastic for a week or to wear outfits and makeup my mom picked out for a week. It sounds like easy money, and then I realize what that entails and I give up all together). Anyways, they promised him this money and as we started to spend more time together and hold hands (gasp!!!) the more I kept thinking, "their is no way I'm going to cost this guy a thousand bucks"

I mean, don't get me wrong, I hadn't kissed a whole lot of boys up to that point, but I had kissed a few and was pretty sure that I was a pretty decent kisser. However, I didn't think that kissing me was worth a thousand dollars. So we must have spent more than two months of our dating period just hanging out and holding hands. If I remember correctly we would email each other throughout the week and then see each other on the weekends and it's probably the most I knew about any guy I dated from the time I was 14-20. We had excellent communication, we laughed so much, had tons of inside jokes and I think I made him love his full name for the first time ever. Eventually we did kiss, but it was after we were both emotionally invested ( as much as one can be at 16) and we both knew what we we're getting into.

Fast forward 12 years. Here I am on the verge of my 28th birthday. I have seen A LOT of boyfriends come and go, kissed a lot of frogs since then, and a few weeks ago I find myself on a date where a guy tells me he doesn't kiss for three months of knowing a girl and I think to myself, "can I even do that??" at the time I thought I was totally justified in thinking that he was a total square, but as I have had time to reflect over my Christmas break, I have thought about this a lot. (I did also hang out with 16 year old wonder man and remember why I thought he was amazing and kick myself for screwing it up all those years ago...not that it wouldn't have ended anyways, but I pretty much slammed that door shut in my own face...twice)

While I am not an advocate for waiting extended periods of time to kiss (ie waiting until you get married), I think there is something to be said about being patient, letting life happen! Are we really so focused on progression that we can't let life happen, naturally? Is it that important to us that we 'get results' that we can't be calm?? And I'm not just referring to kissing (I know dad, you are so proud). Change happens gradually, so can we really be upset if nothing happens after day one of our Kanye West Work Out Plan (don't google that) or if we don't learn to stand up on a surf board the first three times we go (or four...or five...or six)

The point is BE PATIENT!! Learning and progressing and growing are all processes. I think a small part of me has always chosen to ignore how infinitely connected patience and faith are. Faith is believing in things without seeing them. Patience is the continual belief in something until you actually have the proof. And then the faith converts to knowledge. Its like math...without the numbers. I am no good at the patience part, but I feel like lately, that is what Heavenly Father has wanted me to learn. Patience with myself as I learn and stretch and do hard things that hurt and are uncomfortable for me. Patience with my students as they learn and stretch and do hard things that hurt and are uncomfortable for them. Patience with those around me who are struggling beyond what I know or understand.

The growth at the end of all of that patience is something worth waiting for. I am worth waiting for. That exciting moment when you figure something out after months of agonizing, or you finally stand up on that surf board or run that race and do well. THOSE THINGS ARE WORTH WAITING FOR!! Because when the answers, or relief, or whatever it is you feel like you need comes, it means so much more, because you waited for it.

But basically what I'm saying is I am not allowed to get mad if I don't get kissed on the first date.

TMFH: Christmas Music

2011-12-16T13:01:00.002-06:00

Just so you know, I am just like those really awesome/annoying Christmas radio stations. Midnight Thanksgiving night, I turn into all Christmas, all the time.

Trust me, its awesome.

Joy to the World the Teacher is Dead

2011-12-15T10:22:00.000-06:00

That's probably what my students who are currently taking a final right now are singing in their heads. They are probably also thinking, 'Dang...She types fast.' Cuz I'm pretty awesome like that. I think I was actually pretty obsessed with that stupid game Mavos Beacon Typing...and I may or may not have downloaded it as an adult to play for fun, and became so consumed with the racing game on that program that I had to stop playing because I was constantly trying to type faster. I'm super mature. I know.

I have been so busy in the last two months or so I didn't really have time to blog. Over Thanksgiving I ran half marathon #4 and set a personal record of 2 hours and 19 minutes. Yes I know that is not fast, no I don't care.

I have been meaning to write a post about this for a month or so now, I just haven't gotten around to it, and I think had I written it before it wouldn't have been as meaningful as it is to me now. Funny how life works out like that.

A few weeks after I got back from my summer vacation (read: got back from working hard for the money) our stake president stopped by our ward. He got up and talked about a girl, Elizabeth Steed, who a few years ago got up at a Youth Conference and bore her testimony. Elizabeth was 16 at the time and told a story about how all she wanted to do was get asked to the Prom. She knelt one night to pray and begged Heavenly Father to find her a date to Prom. Halfway through the prayer she stood up, walked around the room and thought, 'What am I thinking?? Heavenly Father isn't worried about whether I have a date to the Prom or not. I need to pray about things that really matter!' So she thought for a minute, and then knelt again to pray. As she knelt the second time, she heard these words distinctly in the silence, 'Elizabeth, Elizabeth. What's important to you is important to me.' She knew that it was the voice of the Spirit relaying to her that her Father in Heaven was worried about what was important to her.

Let me just stop right here and tell you that this is what I looked like after he shared that story.

So over the last few months I have thought a lot about that, but it became ever more important while having a late night convo with one of my BFF's Jenna. She is shown HERE:

This is Jenna with the glasses, me and Louise one of my other BFFs at Twilight Midnight showing. DON'T JUDGE US!

Jenna and I were talking about dating and blah blah, I can't tell you the secret workings of Jody and Jenna but we were having a really good conversation and she told me that something she had been doing lately was praying for her future husband. I know, that sounds cheesy, but it got me to thinking, if I were my future husband, what would I be doing right now...and then I was like, dang boy, clean up your act! haha, Kidding. But I realized that I had been so focused on ME ME ME, that I wasn't even thinking about HIM!

Now combine that with Elizabeth's story and I just have been a praying fool lately! I have been praying for others, I have been praying for my students (its finals, they need all the help they can get) I have been praying for my work outs, I have been praying for my siblings, for their kids. I have been praying for my roommates, my co-workers. I have been praying for dating opportunities and for the gift of discernment. i have been praying about EVERYTHING that is important to me, and it is amazing how connected to the Savior and my Father in Heaven I am.

I know that what's important to me is important to Him. I am so glad that they are just like my earthly parents, who listen to my ridiculous ramblings, who calm my fears and counsel me in my struggles and decisions. I am trying to treat prayer just like a phone call home, because really that is exactly what it is.

So I might start praying to find a pair of these that fit...

I'm on the Up and Up

2011-10-16T10:05:00.000-05:00

It hasn't been a real banner week in the life of me. Do you ever just have those groups of days where you are up and down and up and down? Well its been one of those for me. To the point where I haven't wanted to say anything. I'm pretty sure my roommates think I am crazy because of an evening on Thursday that started with me coming home after grading papers until 7pm, spilling the leftovers of my breakfast smoothie all over myself while walking into the house, being annoyed with said spilling, running 5 miles to make myself less mad, being annoyed with everyone anyways, complete emotional breakdown, histerical hour long conversation with my mom, and a priesthood blessing. All before 11pm. I am talented.

Sometimes life is just hard! And I am realizing more and more that I am due for some really hard things to happen, and that is okay. I feel like in the last year my ability to cope with tough situations and things has increased and with that, my probability of experiencing those things has increased. You know what they say-God must really have a sense of humor.

Now I don't say any of these things to be a downer, I have learned a lot in the last week from words from other people, aforementioned priesthood blessing, and some sweet wonderful personal revelation. It never ceases to amaze me how much my Father in Heaven is aware of my needs and the things I struggle with. I am so grateful for those wonderful moments.

Last sunday I was getting ready for church-like I normally do- but instead of listening to music, I decided to listen to the Mormon Radio Channel on my phone. A small decision, probably not that significant in the scheme of things. One of the comercials they played was one from one of the new 'I am Mormon' campaign bios. I LOVE THESE! I secretly want to do something really cool so that I can have one made about me. One in particular that I have always been a fan of is Stephanie Nielson. If you know me well you know that I am obsessed with her blog and talking about her. I think she is so amazing. I have heard her little ad a thousand times, but last Sunday a particular line stuck out to me more so than ever before.

She said, 'I am not my body'.

I know what your thinking, 'What on earth does this have to do with your moody behavior?' 'Why are you such a girl' and 'What the heck does that even mean?'

This may not be all that important to you, or even make sense to you in the same way that it struck a chord with me, but I found this to be some of the sweetest words I had heard in a while. It is no secret that I have struggled my entire life with maintaining a healthy weight and diet. I am not obese by any means but I have a hard time. I am up and down and a lot of the time have these overwhelming feelings that 'if I were skinnier I would be married'. Even typing that out right now makes me want to hit myself because it seems like such a stupid thing to say, but unfortunately that is how it has been. Lately I feel like I have been loosing so much more than I have been winning in every aspect of my life. It is sometimes so hard in those moments to feel that I am a loved daughter of God or that anyone could really love me when I have such a hard time loving all of who I am.

As I heard the words 'I am not my body' I realized that my worth is not based on my weight or marital status. I realized that though I struggle, I am still important to my earthly family and my Father in Heaven.

I AM LOVED!!

Maybe not by a husband or a boyfriend, but by family and friends and a Savior who loves and knows me best. Surely he has born MY GRIEF and I need to remember how blessed I have been and continue to be by the Lord. I have been waiting for the Golden Ticket of Happiness and I have not tried to find happiness in where I am Right now.

I will never stop hoping, but I need to find beauty and sweetness in the every day life.

(I sometimes think faces/pictures like this are what cause me to still be single...)

I need to be here now.

Up And Up (Acoustic) Lyrics

Yesterday was not quite what it could've been
As were most of all the days before
But I swear today, with every breath I'm breathing in
I'll be trying to make it so much more

'Cause it seems I get so hung up on the history of what's gone wrong
And the hope of a new day is sometimes hard to see
But I'm finally catching on to it, yeah, the past is just a conduit
And the light, there at the end is where I'll be

'Cause I'm on the up and up, I'm on the up and up
And I haven't given up, given up on what I know I'm capable of
Yeah, I'm on the up and up and yeah, there's nothing left to prove
'Cause I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you
A better version of me for you

To be prosperous would not require much of me
You see, contentment is the one thing it entails
To be content with where I am and getting where I need to be
And moving past the past where I have failed

But I'm finally catching on to it and yeah, the past is just a conduit
And the light, there at the end is where I'll be

Oh, 'cause I'm on the up and up, I'm on the up and up
And I haven't given up, given up on what I know I'm capable of
Yeah, I'm on the up and up and yeah, there's nothing left to prove
'Cause I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you
A better version of me for you

Never cease to supply me with what I need for a good life
So when I'm down, I'll hold my head up high
'Cause you're the reason why, yeah, you're why

I'm on the up and up, I'm on the up and up
And I haven't given up, given up on what I know I'm capable of
Yeah, I'm on the up and up, so yeah, there's nothing left to prove
'Cause I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you
I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you

TMFH: High Heels

2011-09-13T22:23:00.000-05:00

They are cute, but don't be weirded out when I take them off towards the end of the night. You try walking around on your tip toes for an hour and then see how comfortable you are.

Plus, sometimes a girl needs a weapon handy.

All Hail the Chinese Fortune Cookie

2011-09-07T22:47:00.000-05:00

So school started.

You probably noticed that because you haven't heard from me. I have been sucked into the abyss that is full-time teacher-dom (which is totally a word and you can look it up in the dictionary and it will have all sorts of definitions and explanations and even pictures of teachers pulling their hairs out. Try it) Its been a roller coaster to tell you the truth. I have to remind myself on the bad days that I am awesome. And on the good days I have to humble myself by saying tomorrow I probably won't be as awesome as I was today.

But the point is I'm awesome.

I have had some pretty cool moments. Both of my observations (when my department chair comes into my class and decides whether I'm doing my job or not and get to keep my job) have gone really well. Like today when the kiddos were doing a test review and I was monitering and C. decided to ask if I had any Spanish music that was peppier because the song Pandora was playing 'sounded like a bad country song, but at least with country she understood the words'. I laughed and so did my DC. Today a student asked me to make him cookies for his birthday...cuz I'm so domestic and all. I told him I was not made of money. When he rebutted (I love that word) that I was a teacher I gave them the break down of my salary per student and then showed them what I would get paid if I were just BABYSITTING them each day (which comes out to about $220,000 a year...I don't even make a quarter of that) they asked me why I wanted to be a teacher and I simply stated, 'I love to teach!'

Obviously it hasn't all been tie-dyed t-shirts and fruity drinks. I've had some pretty rough days. Last Tuesday in particular just plain out stunk. I have one class that I want to rip their little faces off...in a good way. They just struggle with paying attention and I struggle with dealing with their inability to pay attention and so it is just kind of out of control on so many different levels. We have had some good days and I am learning to applaud the small triumphs (literally, they get high fives and standing ovations because I am that kind of teacher) so that I can hopefully get them where I want them. Anywho, it was a tough day. I called my sister and cried and then she reminded me that I signed up for this line of work and I was like, 'WTHeck...what was I thinking'. Then I got all dressed up to go to the gym, and en-route decided that I wanted Chinese food instead. (Diet starts monday haha).

As I finished up my Mongolian Beef and brocolli I anxiously opened my fortune cookie to see what the fates had in store for me and guess what they said...

Rome wasn't built in a day. Be patient!

And guess what I did

I cried. Duh.

So there I was at my kitchen table, crying over a fortune cookie and thinking, I am so glad that I have a Heavenly Father who knows me well enough to know that that is all I needed.

I am not the only creation that God has ever made, but he knows darn good and well how to treat me like I am his most prized posession and remind me that he loves me just the same...even if I can't teach adjective agreement very well without confusing the kiddos, or I get frustrated and want to give up. He still loves me, and cares how I'm doing and counts the hairs on my chinny chin chin.

So today, I wasn't awesome...but tomorrow?

Either way, at least I'll have something to blog about.

Bad News Bears

2011-08-27T19:00:00.002-05:00

I discovered in a Zumba class today that I can not shimmy while moving my feet at the same time...

I'm doomed.

Kids say the darndest things

2011-08-25T09:07:00.000-05:00

Group of girls writing a skit: Ms. Mac, ¿Cómo se dice botín en ingles?
Me: Booty, like pirate treasure.
Group of girls: Doesn't it mean swag? We are writing our skit like Jersey Shore.
Me: That is sad.

I love my job.

To My Future Husband, Wherever You Are

2011-08-21T21:59:00.000-05:00

¡¡¡¡DISCLAIMER!!!! This is quite the serious post, you have been warned.

If you had told me at 18 years old that I would graduate from college and move to Houston, Texas and become a Spanish teacher, I would have laughed in your face. My two years of high school Spanish had basically taught me to count to one hundred, getting a big confused at around sixty, and label every color and school item in the classroom-very useful for a conversation about the weather or politics. If you would have told me that I would serve a mission, graduate from college and start my teaching career with no impending marriage on the horizon, I would have wondered why life was even worth living.

And yet here I am.

I woke up this morning with a strong desire to write a book. The sad part is the only thing I could think about was starting with what I did this morning and documenting the life of a single mormon girl. I think John Bytheway said it best when he described marriage as a duet and then being single was like trying to sing it by yourself. Everyone stands around you and wonders why you can't do it, laughs at you even saying, what is wrong with you? Just sing the notes that are written, but one person can't possibly do it, so it is pointless to try. That's how i felt- how I FEEL sometimes.

I am not depressed or unhappy, I am so glad I am where I am doing what I'm doing. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be doing what I'm supposed to be doing, but I guess that is the scariest part of all. Thinking that maybe this is the plan, this is my potential and that I will never be anything more than a teacher, wishing to be a mother instead of the other way around.

I don't know where you are, or if you are even out there, but I want you to know that what you see is what you get. I cannot be someone that I am not, but I am trying to be better. But there are some things you really should know.

I will always be the girl who thinks her sisters are her only true friends, who idolizes her younger brother and loves her older brother more than he will ever really see. I will forever be the girl who calls her dad just because she misses him, but will always make up some question about the car just so she can talk to him for a minute. I will never stop being the girl who can talk to her mom for hours about things that she doesnt' really care about, just because her mom will always be the most entertaining person she will ever know. I will always curse when I'm angry and limit my crying to the shower because I don't want people to hear me. I will forever listen to my music too loud and set seven alarms for various times about an hour before I actually HAVE to get up, because it takes me that long to get out of bed. I will be the girl who secretly wants to give talks in sacrament meeting, who wants to play your guitar, but will never tell you that while we are sitting at a campfire. I will always be the girl who laughs too loud and cries too long, who sneezes three times every time and quotes movies like she saw them just yesterday. I will always love fictional characters and compare every guy I meet to Lloyd Dobler.

That is me. And if you never come, I will understand and be okay with it. I cannot change who I am for someone else, and though I am always trying to be better, there are things I just don't want to change

Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for His arm to be revealed. Doctrine and Covenants 123:17 That's all I can do, and I'll keep praying that you are as patient as I need you to be, as funny as I hope you are, and as willing to work as I hope I am.

P.S. I cheat at solitaire.

TMFH: Dancing

2011-08-02T00:10:00.000-05:00

I like to dance.a.lot. I have been known to dance in the following places:

Hallways at church
Grocery store
Work
Your work parties
My work parties
Kitchen
Living Room
Dining Room
Shower
School functions
Mountain tops
In the car
While running
At the gym
Fishing
In the middle of serious discussions
When I am pretending to listen to you
When you are not listening to me
When I'm angry
When I'm happy
When I'm hungry
When I'm cooking
When someone else is cooking
When I am feeling anything...

I hope you can live with that.

Ebineezer Scrooge Ain't Got Nothin On Me

2011-07-15T00:48:00.000-05:00

So there once was a guy named Samuel. He was a prophet. He was sent to tell the Israelites that they were not doing so hot. He told them to repent and that if they did, the Philistines would stop kicking the crap out of them. They did, and then asked him to pray for them. Being a prophet, he was kind of a big deal, so Samuel prayed. The Philistines saw all the Israelites in one place and thought, HEY! This will be like shooting fish in a barrel, except they didn't factor in that whole 'God' thing. The Israelites, freshly repentant, were saved.

Samuel laid a stone between the Israelites and the Philistines, calling it Ebenezer, and declared that the Lord had helped them to that point. Ebenezer has since been known as the stone of help.

On June 18, 2011, I set out to run a marathon. It was something I had decided to do in honor of a friend, it was something I followed through with because it had a lot of meaning for me, it was something that gave me a cause and it was something that made me work towards something. I did it to feel closer to my God.

I could hardly eat the night before. My dad forced some spaghetti down my throat and I mulled around the house all night trying to sleep. I woke up that morning terrified. I kept repeating to my dad that this was the most scared I have ever been. He would reassure me that I would be fine and reminded me of all the training I did.

The first song on my shuffle was Ke$ha. I knew it was gonna be a good run. I said a prayer for Brittni and then I was off. Lets just say that the first 4 miles I was on fire, and then the next 10 were brutal. By half way I wanted to die because I had ascended the entire way! When I got to the highest point of the race there was a couple sitting there, they happily said, 'Its all down hill from here!' I almost burst with excitement.

As I came down the halfway point, my cheersquad was there. They are the best friends that anyone could ask for. I was so grateful to have them and to be honest, felt more of Brittni in what they did for me than even running the race. They were there every few miles with words of encouragement.

At about mile 20 I saw my dad for the first time. He could tell I was spent, and so he was there every two miles after that with a popsicle. He would cheer me on and tell me where I would see him next. It was so awesome. It gave me smaller goals to look forward to.

In the end, I finished. And all I have to say is that it is by divine help that I did.

This summer, I lay my Ebenezer here in Alaska. I have learned so much about myself, I have learned about what I want to be. I have learned about doing the right thing, even when it is hard, about repenting when it hurts. I have learned about my family, who my friends are, and I have learned about laying down a rock in places where I have struggled, but where I have felt the Lord with me.

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I’ll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;

How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransomed soul away;
Send thine angels now to carry
Me to realms of endless day.

So here's to you Ebenezer. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

TMFH: Self Portraits

2011-07-01T02:35:00.000-05:00

I hope you love this face

Cuz you are gonna see it in every album of every vacation/graduation/baby birthing/exciting event photo album we ever have.

Just giving you fair warning.

Remember when I posted on a regular basis?

2011-07-01T02:31:00.000-05:00

I do.

I actually have about 5 posts that are drafted out or outlined or half written or are in my head and I want to write them down, but I haven't made the time. Summers are so busy!! And I don't really know why I feel like this takes precedent over the marathon post, but it does.

I love the random situations I am privy to.

I have two really unrelated/really awesome mini stories to share. I hope you won't think I'm weird.

#1
The day before the race, I was pretty busy at work. Every other Friday is what we call a 'double ship day', which for you non-tourist job people means that there are not one, but TWO cruise ships in which means that my little town of 275,000 pretty much triples in size. Its a busy day for me, but I try to make it as enjoyable as possible. Before one of my tours I chatted it up with a gentleman who had a Team in Training hat on. (Side note, I am TOTALLY going to join TNT. They are awesome) He told me he was running the half and I told him I was running the full and that it was my first and that I wanted to crawl in a hole in die I was so nervous. After the tour we got to talking and he told me that he ran his first marathon just 6 months after his first round of chemotherapy. I told him that was amazing and asked him what type of cancer he had. 'Large B-cell Lymphoma'. I started crying immediately. I apologized and explained that my mom had been diagnosed in October with the same type of Lymphoma and that she had just finished a round of chemo AND radiation. He teared up and we exchanged some conversation about it. At the end, we took a picture and he told me he would look for me at the finish line.

#2
Yesterday, I got off a tour and was helping my passengers off the trolley. (P.S. if you didn't already know, I drive a trolley and it is AWESOME) I started to chat a bit with the people at the front of the line waiting to get ON, and as a man came off, he approached the man in the front of the line, shook his hand and announced which branch of the military he served in during Vietnam. The man at the front of the line returned the exchange with his regiment number and type. They shook hands and each said to the other, 'Welcome home brother.'

Now. Neither of these two experiences have anything to do with the other, except for the fact that the both touched me deeply. One because I knew that it was one of those moments when I could see God's hand in a chance meeting. The other because here were two perfect strangers who were both 'anxiously engaged in a good cause' and it made me proud to be an American.

I may say that I hate my job, and sometimes I do, but I am so glad that I get to interact with so many different people. I am not a fan of saying the same thing 585 times a summer.

But as you can see, Captain Cook is showing off his better side for you today.

Big Kid Pants

2011-06-06T02:12:00.000-05:00

This post is about three weeks overdue, but I have been busy, alright?!?

The story:

I got a phone call while subbing a few weeks ago. Like any good little sub I waited until passing period to listen to the message. It was from a secretary at a high school in another district asking if I was available for an interview for a Spanish teaching position. You better believe the next hour until school was out and I could call her back were excruciating. (read: I was literally counting down minutes and pushing kids out of classrooms so that I could call these people back.)

The second that beautiful bell rang at 2:45 pm (which in real time is about 2:53 because the ring the last bell manually and it NEVER EVER EVER EVER rings ontime) I was on that phone as fast as you could say Lightning McQueen in order to get that interview. It went straight to voicemail, so I did what every self respecting job seeker would do. I called three more times in a matter of three minutes. Finally, I left a message in the hopes that I would hear back before the next century. (Leaving messages is about the least affective way to get a job interview, FYI)

I plugged my phone into my car stereo and got on the road. Imagine my surprise when my ringtone went off through my car speakers. I looked at the number and then wretched the phone out of the connecter as quickly as humanly possible. This is what ensued:

Me: Hello.
Secretary: May I speak with Jody please.
(Country music starts to play through my ear piece)
Me: This is she...do you hear that?
Secretary: Hello?
Me: (More to myself than anyone else) Where is that coming from?
Secretary: (With a bit of a raised voice) I'm calling about an interview for a Spanish Teaching position.
Me: Hold...on...I can't...(Pulling the phone away from my face I realize that my iphone has tried to ibomb this phonecall with some itunes music. I frantically turn it off)
Secretary: Are you there? (sounding a little bit exasperated and annoyed)
Me: Yes, sorry, I am having some technical difficulties. yes I would love to come in!

The rest is boring. but I was about to DIE! I was so embarassed and thought I had blown in before I even went in.

I went home that night a googled the school and found out that guess what.
Did you guess?
Have you guessed yet?
You aren't guessing.

THE SCHOOL IS LITERALLY 6 MINUTES FROM MY HOUSE!

I'm not gonna lie, this made the school about a million times more attractive to me. Then I started researching the school and it is really awesome, was just remodeled, and just seemed to really be on the same page as me as far as teaching beliefs and such. I was really excited to get in there.

So I walk in and the first thing the principal asks me is, 'So, what congregation do you belong to?' Haha, only in Texas would that be an alright question to ask. Turns out his brother is a member and we talk for a bit about that. The rest of the interview was really amazing actually. It was a chat with a bunch of people about education. After about 30 minutes, (during which we all laughed quite a bit) the principal leans back and his chair and says. 'You're a risk, and I don't say that in a bad way. You don't have much experience, but everybody needs to start somewhere. You have a lot of energy and enthusiasm. I like that. We are very interested in hiring you.' This is the part where I almost pee my pants.

Just one week later they offered me the job.

AND I ACCEPTED!!

So starting next year, I am the newest teacher at CYPRESS CREEK HIGH SCHOOL, home of the...

COUGARS!!

Could it be any more perfect? I think not.

But I would have blamed country music if I didn't get the job. Just sayin.

TMFH: Road Trips

2011-05-27T13:17:00.000-05:00

Driver picks the music. I hope you like Justin Beiber and Ke$ha, and me singing really loud.

TMFH: Auto Repairs

2011-05-03T21:26:00.000-05:00

I am not your average girl. I know how to:

Check/Fill my oil
Check/Fill my windshield washer fluid
Clean my engine
Change my head lights
Install a stereo
Change windshield wiper
Fill my tire with air
Clean it like its going out of style

BUT...

You better know what a strut is, because when I take my car in to get an oil change and they try to talk me into $1,000 worth of repairs, you are going to be my phone a friend life line.

Being Prepared...and other stuffs

2011-04-26T22:31:00.000-05:00

I remember giving a talk in church soon after I returned home from my mission. The topic assigned to me was 'Be Prepared' and specifically listed the parable of the 10 virgins. Somewhere in preparation for that talk I decided that the oil that the 5 prepared virgins had was their testimony, and so I presented the idea as such.

Today, I was grateful that the Lord had filled my lantern in several different ways.

I was at work, but today, because of blessed standardized testing (note the sarcasm), I was in the counseling office answering phones and doing remedial office work-It.was.awesome. If all I had to do all day was file papers, answer phones, look cute, and think of something funny to say to students as they waited to get into trouble, my life would be perfect. I will be there tomorrow. I am in substitute teaching heaven.

Anyways, I was sitting there, checking the spelling on the diplomas of the graduating class of 2011 when a woman walked in and in Spanish asked to see her son. I explained that he was in testing and she said that he was a junior (they weren't testing today) and that they had a doctor's appointment. She had a skirt and a matching blouse on, but had a dew-rag on her head. I thought it was strange, but I have seen odder things, so I went about the process of locating her son and getting him to her.

As I continued to check the spelling of the worlds most awful names (a subject for another post), I looked up and noticed that she was watching me. I smiled. She smiled back and I thought I saw the glint of a tear. I asked her if she was alright, and she burst into tears. I rushed to the other side of the desk where she was sitting, put my arm around her and asked her what was wrong.

'Its just that this might be the last time I come to pick my son up from school.' she cried.

'Why would you think that?' I asked.

' I have brain cancer, I don't know how much longer I am going to live.' was her reply. Then she added, 'I am so tired.'

I started to tear up with her. I confided in her that my own mother had just been diagnosed with cancer and that she too was much more tired than she used to be. I asked her the treatments she was on, and was not shocked to find that they were some of the same ones my mother had done. I told her that my mom was just now, a few months after her treatments, starting to get her energy, and that she couldn't think like she was going to be gone. I told her that there was power in faith, that she needed to believe she was going to get better and in doing so she WOULD get better. I promised her that if she would have faith in God's plan for her that everything would work out for the best, but asked her to be strong for her children, because they needed her to believe that she was going to be alright.

As I spoke with her, she was calmed. I recognized the familiar, 'Asi es' and 'Amen Señor' phrases that I heard so often as a missionary, and right on cue, as she was wiping the tears from her eyes, her son walked in. She stood up, he put his arm around her, and she said, 'Que el Señor te bendiga.' May the Lord bless you.

I thought a lot today about the different things that prepared me for just that moment...The countless hours on my mission comforting those who stood in need of comfort, learning to speak the language and say things in a way that people would understand, hundreds of hours in university classrooms, hours on my knees pleading for my own mother's life...

And one night, preparing a talk for sacrament.

Rise All Loyal Cougars

2011-04-22T10:42:00.000-05:00

I'm not gonna lie... I got this letter the other day, and it made me cry.

Dear Graduate:

On behalf of the College of Humanities, we in the deans' office express our congratulations on the occasion of your graduation. This is a significant accomplishment, and we are happy that you chose to purse a degree in the Humanities at Brigham Young University. If we are doing our job properly, there is no better place to study nations, kindreds, tongues, and peoples than in our College, where we have the opportunity to learn from distinguished faculty about the world and the people around us from the perspectives of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

As you complete your education at BYU, you go out into a world that will challenge you in many ways. We hope that we have helped prepare you, both intellectually and spiritually, for those challenges and that you will sense the opportunity and obligation you have to represent this university and our sponsoring Church with honor.

In your personal, professional, church, and civic lives you will have opportunities to demonstrate the careful reasoning, the tolerance, the humility, and the sense of values that lie at the heart of the humanities. You should be less vulnerable to cheap rhetoric, more open to differing opinions, less enamored of your own capacities and possessions, and more committed to the Gospel and to the principles of right and virtue than are those who lack your background.

We are proud of you and your graduating class and believe that you will expand on the academic and moral education that you have received at Brigham Young University. As you do, we too will be expanded, and this institution will become stranger and more mature. The resources that you, the Church, and your families have expended in providing for your studies will be repaid through your service and faith.

May you remember with pride and pleasure the time you spent at Brigham Young University.

Today, I will walk across that stage and officially close the door on my BYU Career. That may not seem like something all that important for some of you, but let me let you in on a little secret.

I dropped out of college in 2003.

Its a long story and I won't go into the details, sufficeth to say that I know what its like to fail. I went through a lot of hard things, learned a lot of important lessons about myself, served a mission, learned a new language and decided to try again. It took all the courage in the world for me to stand up, brush myself off and try again. I sincerely thought at times that it just wasn't in the cards for me to put my life back together, that I just wasn't one of those people who would finish college and go on to have careers. There were times when I couldn't believe in myself.

As Elder Neal A. Maxwell observed: “It is not an easy thing … to be shown one’s weaknesses. … Nevertheless, this is part of coming unto Christ, and it is a vital, if painful, part of God’s plan of happiness.”

The challenging process of facing and overcoming our weaknesses can refine us, make us more profitable servants, and bring us closer to the Savior. Through this whole endeavor, I have learned that the Lord knows me better than I know myself. Sometimes I think I am weak. He knows better. I have learned (through running, school and the like) that I am only as weak as I think I am. Which adversely means that I am only as STRONG as I think I am. Jumping this hurdle has taught me that I am strong, and that I have a lot to offer.

I am so glad that I had to go through what I have been through. And I am so glad that this trial is over. I am excited for the new chapter in my life, and excited at the prospect of helping my students get through what I have been through. I know that the Lord blesses us with trials so that we in turn can help others through the same things.

You better believe my kids will wake up every morning to me singing the fight song. I am so proud of where I have come from and where I am going.

Plus I get to wear this hat.

Running With Brittni

2011-04-12T09:54:00.002-05:00

Last Saturday...

5:00 a.m. Hear alarm go off, press snooze

5:30 a.m. Hear alarm go off again, drag myself out of bed

6:00 a.m. Start the 17 mile run on my usual trail, oddly see no one

6:45 a.m. Get a little tired and think about maybe not doing the whole run

7:00 a.m. Start to get really tired, think a lot more about quitting, decide not to

7:30 a.m. Get a text from my lovely friend Felicia that says, 'When the running gets hard...remember who its for...that makes it easier...;) you can do it!!

7:31 a.m. Start to think about what Brittney would have done in my situation, decide she would say hello to everyone who ran or biked passed her and do the same.

7:45-8:50 a.m. Hear words of encouragement from complete strangers that help me get through one of the most painful runs yet.

I had a really cool experience this last week on my long run. I started saying hello to everyone. Now this is nothing new for me. I am often found striking up a conversation with the cashier, the person in the check out line behind me, teachers I don't know in the teachers lounge...I don't have a problem talking. But at the gym, or on a run, I am usually in the zone. I have an angry face and I just do my thing. So as I was struggling to put my milage in this weekend, I was reminded why I am running this marathon. Its not for me. I have toyed with the idea for several years, but it was the events of last summer that made me decide to do it, officially. So I started to run as if I were Brittney. I thought about how happy she would have been just being out on a beautiful morning, and so I said good morning to everyone I saw. As the run got harder, these perfect strangers started to encourage me. They would say things like, 'You're almost there!' and 'You're doing really good!' They would smile and say, 'You're still going??' and with each kind word they said to me, I could almost feel Britt running along side me.

I have never felt such physical exhaustion as I do when I am running lately. I have never been so nervous and even a little scared to do something as I am to do this race, but I was reminded yesterday of a scripture in John that fits my situation so perfectly.

John 16:33: These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation but be of good cheer;

I have overcome the world.

I'm still pretty nervous about the race. 26.2 miles is a long way and I haven't even gotten to where I need to be yet, but I know that I can do it. I have the support of so many, family especially and friends from all over who encourage and bless my life. Most importantly I have a Savior who loves me and inspires me to be my best self. Without that I would never be able to accomplish all that I have done and will do.

Plus, I'll be running with Brittney, and that's all the help I need.

TMFH: Spring Cleaning

2011-03-16T09:12:00.000-05:00

I'll do some not fun stuff, you'll do some not fun stuff. We'll get it done quickly, then go out to eat. Deal?

What I love most about being home

2011-03-13T21:03:00.000-05:00

Snuggling with this little guy and his older brother and sister is the best.

Being home for a funeral is never fun, but as I sat in the temple on Friday morning and thought about the Plan of Salvation and how amazingly simple and simply amazing it is, I was so grateful. Grateful for cousins, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, family stories, funny traditions. Grateful for the fact that we will always be together, but most of all...

Grateful for squishy cheeks and baby teeth.

Lead Me Home

2011-03-01T10:50:00.000-06:00

In 1939, my grandparents, newly married, decided to move to Alaska. My grandfather had spent a lot of time up there during his time as a college student, and felt that it was where he needed to raise his family. My grandmother, not quite 20, was a little apprehensive. She was not sure what life in a fairly unsettled territory would be like, but agreed to go under three conditions: 1) That she could go back to Utah every other summer to visit her family, 2) At the end of six years, she got to decide whether they stayed or not, and 3) That she would never have to iron my grandfather's shirts. He agreed, and they made the trek to the last frontier. They were, in every sense of the word, pioneers.

Living in Alaska, especially in the early days, could not have been easy for my Grandma Cora, but she did it because she knew it was where she was supposed to be. For 53 years, she worked along side my grandfather, until his death in 1992. She gave so much for her family, always serving, always looking for that last little detail that would make every act complete. She is the only 90 year old woman who would be angry if you did not give her something to do. Even in the last few months of her life, you would often hear her say, 'What are my orders?' or 'What do you need me to do?'

The last time I spoke to her, the last time I am certain she knew who I was, was the night before I left on my mission six years ago. I had been upstairs madly packing, and I came downstairs to grab something. She came up to me with tears in her eyes, gave me the biggest hug and told me that she loved me. I gave her a big hug back, and said, 'Oh grandma, you'll be here when I get back!' She was, but the early stages of Alzheimer's had set in, and she slowly began to forget. I wish now I had taken that moment more seriously, that I had told her how much her example had always meant to me, and how grateful I was for her faith. She was there when I went through the temple for the first time, and I remember seeing in her eyes how much it meant to her and thinking, 'This must be true, because Grandma believes it.'

From her, I inherited my middle name, my love for Phase 10 and any other card game, my ability to cheat, and my desire to serve. Her example has taught me so much about unconditional love, about how hearts can be changed with something so basic as fruit salad, as long as the giver truly has the best interest of the receiver in mind. I love her in ever sense of the word.

After 19 long years, my grandmother was reunited yesterday with my grandfather. I am quite certain that he was there, on the other side of the veil, welcoming her home. And that is where she is- Home. I am so grateful for a God in Heaven who has made His plan so clear to us in these last days. I know that before she came to this earth, Grandma Cora knew the trials that would face her, and that she agreed to do such hard things because she loved the Lord and wanted to prove herself. I know that she now sits, patiently, waiting for the rest of us to make the same righteous decisions, so that, someday, we will be reunited with her. I know that God lives, and that someday, when my journey is through, she will embrace me with open arms.

Until then, I hope that I can feel her near...

And that she will lead me home.

The power to change

2011-02-27T19:20:00.000-06:00

I was reminded today of a story that my uncle told me during his time as my mission prep teacher. If you are wondering what time that was, it was 3 semesters. Yes. It took me 3 semesters to finally get my booty on a mission. Nobody ever said I was the smartest cookie in the box, and it takes me a long time to make decisions. But when I do make decisions, its because I know they are the right one, and I stick to them.

Anyways, the story.

My uncle, who by the way is an amazing mission prep teacher, served as a mission president in Campinas, Brazil. During his time there, he participated in this following conversion story that reminds me of how important the atonement is in ALL of our lives.

There were two missionaries that were out tracting on a Sunday night. For those of you who didn't serve missions, Sunday night tends to be a pretty stressful time because its when you turn your numbers in and have to report on the week. Its when you meet your goals or you don't. When you don't meet your goals it is so disappointing. You feel like you have let not only yourself and your leaders down, but Heavenly Father. These missionaries needed to place just one more Book of Mormon to meet their goals for the week. This particular Sunday evening found them in a city square talking to people. As they attempted to make conversation with people in the square they became more and more desperate to place that last Book of Mormon.

Looking across the square, the junior companion (it always seems to be the jr that has the faith!!) saw a man who had been selling coffee from a large thermos sitting on a step, smoking a cigarette like it was his last. The young missionary turned to his companion, and insisted that they talk to the man. The older protested saying, 'Elder, talking to him will be a waste of time and even if we do talk to him, it would just be to fulfill a number, not because he wants to talk to us or know anything about the church.'

'I really feel like we need to talk to that man!' was the jr companion's reply. So the senior companion relented, and they went to talk to the man.

As the story goes, the man didn't say much, listened to their message, took the Book of Mormon and gave them his address, but didn't really respond much more than that. The missionaries walked away, the senior feeling as though he had taught his young companion a very important lesson.

Three weeks passed, and the missionaries found themselves in an area of town they did not normally go without any plans because their appointments had fallen through. They flipped through their planners looking for someone who lived near by that they could teach. The junior companion realized that they were very near the coffee salesman's house, so he begged his companion to go there. Seeing that there wasn't many other options, they set out to find this man's house. They were surprised to find the man home, and even more surprised when he let them in.

As they sat down to teach, the junior companion turned to the senior companion and said, 'Elder, we need to teach him about the word of wisdom.' This was not normal, and the senior protested saying, 'Elder, we can't teach him that! He probably breaks every part of it and will kick us out. We need to start with something else and ease our way into that!' Again, the junior companion would not back down, so the senior companion allowed it, but insisted that he do most of the teaching.

The junior companion taught with clarity the importance of our earthly bodies, and what we needed to do in order to keep them holy. He explained that because they were so important we kept them from being defiled with substances that blurred our judgement and then promised the man, that if he made the decision, the Lord would help him to change. During the entire lesson, the man had made no noise, no comment, and had dutifully smoked cigarette after cigarette. At this comment, the man stopped. Tears welled up in his eyes and he looked at the young missionary saying, 'You think that I can change?'

The young missionary sensing the spirit, and knowing that this was why they were there promised the man that he could, that he WOULD and that he wouldn't do it alone. Hearts were touched, and the man and his whole family were baptized. A few months later he was diagnosed with cancer and told that he would only live a few months later. He swore to the doctor that he would live long enough to be sealed to his family, which he was.

For whatever reason, that story has been running through my mind all day. We had really awesome meetings in my ward today. I have a lot on my mind and I felt like I was being spoken to and that things just seemed to become clear to me where they hadn't been before. Before Paul was a great apostle, he was Saul, a great persecutor of truth. In a talk entitled The Power To Change the late Elder James E. Faust said the following:

Transgression brings pain and sorrow. But there is a way out of “the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity” (Mosiah 27:29). If we will turn to the Lord and believe on His name, we can change. He will give us the power to change our lives, the power to put away bad thoughts and feelings from our hearts. We can be taken from “the darkest abyss” to “behold the marvelous light of God” (Mosiah 27:29). We can be forgiven. We can find peace.

I want you to know that I know that the atonement of Jesus Christ gives us the power to change. I am not perfect, never have been. But the atonement has given me the strength and the ability to make myself better. I am so glad that I have that, and that even when I mess up, I can pick myself back up, and try again. I can change!

And I think that you can change too.

This is why you want me around

2011-02-24T17:23:00.000-06:00

So, guess what.

Are you guessing?

Have your little ears started to burn with anticipation over the announcement I have for you?

Its really exciting.

I'm not sure you're ready.

Do you think you can handle this?

At least ten of you have skipped to the bottom of this post to find out.

If you read this line, comment to me your favorite ice cream.

Haha, okay I'm done messing around. I cut my hair! Exciting I know. The only reason I tell you this is to tell you this story.

Ignore this silly face. For whatever reason I am making this face...

I chopped a good six inches off of my hair last saturday. I felt like it was time for a change, so I just went and did it. I like it. It makes me look even more like a teenager than I already did which I'm not sure is a good thing since I'm a substitute teacher, but I like my cut.

That night, a bunch of girls went to downtown Houston to see some short films. Among my favorites was this hilarity. (the clip doesn't do it justice btw)

Anywho, after the event, my friends and I were exiting the Museum where the movie madness had taken place. We were talking intermittently about the different films, where we were going to eat, and mine and another friend of mine's haircuts. Someone commented to me about my hair and I turned to reply. The person standing next to me: not my friend. In fact it was a random man who had gotten caught up in our group, but wasn't exactly trying to get away and I honestly think he was enjoying our conversation. When I realized I didn't know him, I started laughing and said, 'Oh I'm sorry I thought you were my friend!'

He smiled and said, 'Yeah, sorry.'

And for some odd reason, I felt like explaining myself so I replied, 'Well, in case you were wondering, I really love my new hair cut!' and then I burst into air gasping laughs, as did several of my friends.

The man looked at me calmly, laughed to him self and said awkwardly, 'Well...congratulations?'

I am a lot of fun.

I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of a big deal...

2011-02-22T21:58:00.000-06:00

Now, I should preface this by saying, I don't tell these stories just so that you will think I am cool. In fact, most of the time if you were to pay me a compliment, I would probably laugh in your face, or better yet, make you laugh at how I turned down the compliment. I'm not a very good compliment getter... which is totally an adjective by the way.

SOOOOO, there aren't many things in life I am good at. The super athletic gene skipped my zygote (if you don't know what that is, you obviously know nothing about biology...and if you know me you know why this is funny) and I'm not what you would call the sharpest pencil in the box.

But the one thing that I am good at is teaching.

I don't know how many times I have had the spirit confirm to me that I am in the correct profession for my talents. It seems like almost every day I have experiences that just give me a spiritual high five or a holy ghost pat on the back (which feels much like nothing at all, but you know it when it happens, trust me)

TWO EXPERIENCES:

Today I walked into a middle school that I sub at quite often and had one of the paraprofessionals assigned to the deaf educations students hollar after me. 'Miss Mac! Who are you subbing for? Bushman?' 'No I'm in Coffland's class.' 'Dang it!' was her reply...I just love that!

On Friday I was at a high school I have started to sub at recently that I love. I was in a Spanish class and I was really excited about subbing in my major...until I read the lesson plans and saw that they were pretty lame and that the kids would be done ridiculously early with what they were supposed to be doing. I had been handling it all day, but by seventh period I was alright with the kids finishing the assignment and talking quietly with each other. As I was monitoring the room, I started talking with a particular student who would not stop cursing. Not to be rude or anything, he was just talking like he normally would and didn't even realize that he was cursing.

I stopped him and started talking to him about what an awful habit that was. I asked him if he had planned on speaking like that when he had a full time job and was working in an office. He replied that he didn't want to work in an office. I asked him what he DID want to do then. It opened a door to a conversation about planning for the future and college and thinking about how to pay for it and being responsible. It was one of those conversations that teachers LIVE for!!

It was funny because when we started talking it was just he and I and another student. By the end of the conversation, over half the class was listening and piping in. It was so exciting to talk to these kids that are supposedly the 'bad eggs' and the 'hard kids' that nobody wants to teach and hearing them say things that I'm positive easy to teach kids wouldn't have said. As they were walking out, several students turned back to thank me for talking to them. The kid I had started talking to turned back as he was walking out and said, 'Keep doin' what you're doin' Miss. We need good teachers like you.' Melt my heart.

So...like I said. Not that I wanna toot my own horn or anything.

But I'm pretty much awesome.

Note to the lady next to me on the plane...

2011-02-05T11:52:00.001-06:00

They call it solitaire for a reason, but thanks for the tips.

TMFH: TheDark

2011-02-01T21:58:00.000-06:00

I may or may not be afraid of the dark just a little. So if you see me run and jump into bed, just roll with it. I will also probably run to and from the car if I forget something at night, and/or make you go get it. Chivalry isn't dead...right?

I'm talkin bout good vibrations

2011-01-31T17:50:00.000-06:00

It has been a good couple of days for me.

For starters, I turned 27 in 2011 (you have to say it twenty-eleven other wise it does not sound catchy). My roommates threw me a birthday party, and I just love where I am right now in life. Friday afternoon I left the middle school I substitute at three days a week, the air was warm, the sun was beginning to set, I had a party to get ready for and I just thought, 'Life is really good right now.'

Today, I was in the hallway ushering students to class, and some kids from another class I have been in before and started talking to me. The fact that they remember my name warms my heart, and that they excitedly ask if I'm going to be in their class makes me even more happy.

K, a chattery, but lovable kid says to me, 'Miss Mac they be talkin' bout you, but I got your back.'
I responded, 'Who was talking about me K?'
K: 'You know (insert name of female student I had to remind to stop talking about a million times first period). '
Me: 'Oh yeah, I know her. What did she say?'
K: 'She said, "oooh that sub be gettin' up on my nerves!' So I told her, 'Girl, you better back up off Miss Mac.'
Me: (laughing) 'Well thanks K, I appreciate it.'

Cute, I know.

On Sunday, I found this note in my scriptures. I wrote it when I first got here to Houston, but I feel like it is MORE true now than it was four months ago.

'This is not the path I thought I was going to be on, but I know it is where I am supposed to be. I am grateful for a God whose wisdom leads me on journeys that make me stronger. I am closer to Him because of the wisdom He possesses in putting me where I need to be, even if it is the last place I thought He'd want me.'

Love this life.

Stick to the Trail

2011-01-29T11:58:00.000-06:00

Stick to your task till it sticks to you
Starters are many, finishers few.
-John Bytheway

This is me and my dad after we ran our first half-marathon together. He looks like he rocked it, I look like I'm about to die...and really I almost did.

In case you ever wanted to know, I moved.

I know, you are heartbroken and all that jazz. But I had to move, and I am really pleased with the neighborhood I am living in now. It is cute, its neighborhoody, and I can run on the roads in the morning/evenings.

Last Saturday I set out to go on my required by training 7 mile run. I sat down at Mapmyrun.com and I put together a route that I thought would be interesting and would fulfill the required distance. I was excited about it. I sat at the screen and memorized it. Then I walked out the door and started running. About 20 minutes in I realized that I had no idea where I was going, so I decided not to worry and that I would just run for around what I thought it would take me to run 7 miles and then try and find my way home. By the time I got to around an hour and ten minutes of running, I realized I had no idea where I was. I ended up running for another 20 minutes trying to find my house. I eventually found the beautiful brick house that I live in, right next to about 50 other houses that look exactly alike on streets that are identical.

Today, I had a better plan. I had found a trail that was about 2 miles long. I figured I could loop around for my 8 mile run so I was excited. (Sidenote: It is so nice to live somewhere where I can run outside in January...) This trail runs along side of a bayou. On the other side I could tell that people had made their own make shift trail and I paid careful attention...for the first mile or so, to the fact that they paralleled, so I figured I was going to run back on the other side. Well when I got to the end of the 2 mile trail, I saw that it was connected to another. The thought of not having to do several loops was appealing so I kept running. When I got to four miles I crossed the bridge and continued down the grassy side of the bayou...well about five minutes down the trail I realized that I hadn't made sure that this side connected to the other, or that it paralleled the path. I found myself looking down at a fork in the bayou with two options: A) turn around or B) take my shoes off, cross the water that looked pretty shallow and get back on the path.

I chose option B, took advantage of the cool water, and waded across to get back to my trail and to get back to my goal.

As I came back down the four mile chute I thought about how easily that happens to me in life. I follow very carefully the trail, for a time, but then I am distracted by other things. There are ideas and places that seem so inviting at first, but in the end serve only to separate you from the path that leads to where you want to be going. And that is the way of life.

Sticking to the trail is a full time job, it is not something that can be worked at diligently for an hour or so (doesn't diligently imply constantly anyways?).

A few years ago Elaine S. Dalton, current General President of the Young Women gave a talk called Stay on the Path and said the following:

Sometimes as we walk life’s paths, we want to loiter in dangerous places, thinking that it is fun and thrilling and that we are in control. Sometimes we think we can live on the edge and still maintain our virtue. But that is a risky place to be. As the Prophet Joseph Smith told us, “Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue” (History of the Church, 5:134–35).

It is always interesting to me the many paths that seem so constantly before me. They all seem to be so inviting, and at times may give the appearance of leading to the same place. But in reality, there is only one path that will lead you directly to where you want to be going.

Sister Dalton continued:

The Savior is the perfect example of virtue. When Jesus walked the roads of the Holy Land, He “went about doing good” (Acts 10:38). He healed the sick and caused the blind to see and raised the dead. “He taught the truths of eternity, the reality of our premortal existence, the purpose of our life on earth, and [our] potential … (see “The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles,” Liahonaand Ensign, Apr. 2000, 2–3). One of my favorite scriptures says: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6).

Sure there are detours, sure you can get yourself back on the path...but you'll have to take your shoes off and get a little muddy.

TMFH: car shows

2011-01-26T18:09:00.001-06:00

Need to be on the weekend. I can pretend I'm interested, but not after a full day of work.

To My Future Husband

2011-01-17T23:16:00.000-06:00

So I followTHIS cute blog. I love every time one of this guy's posts show up on my google reader. Its short, sweet and to the point. So I decided that when ever I have those kinds of thoughts, that I am going to also just throw down little one-liners. I mean, my future husband should have SOME reference to what I am going to be like. I will call them TMFH posts and always have the subject in the title line.

Today's TMFH: Charity

I will probably walk by the bell ringer during the holiday season. I will do a million things, including pretending to text or call someone, to not make eye-contact with them. But if we are stopped at a stop light, and someone is standing on the street corner asking for food, I will give them whatever I have in the car. And yes, that includes your left-overs.

More Than Big Love

2011-01-15T01:22:00.000-06:00

There is a reason for this post, but it isn't important.

I just feel the need to say a few things.

I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. I will never claim to understand all of its history or everything that the Lord has asked of his Saints in these last days. There are things that will be hard for me when I am asked to do them. But because I know that this is God's church, I will do them.

I have been meeting with the missionaries lately as they are teaching a co-worker/friend of mine. It is a new experience to be on the other side of the missionary discussions and it has been great for so many reasons. I realize how thrilling it is to share the gospel, and as they teach Zach, I am awed at how a couple of 20 year old boys are able to relay a message so important with such maturity. Each time we have walked away from lessons, I have asked him what he thought, to which Zach has replied, 'It just makes sense.'

I guess that is the best way to describe how I feel about the gospel. It just makes sense.

I am sorry for whatever has made those who do not agree with the church push so hard against it. And I am saddened at the attacks that the church has received in the last few years for defending our beliefs. But know this, our message is a message of love, a message of forgiveness, and a message of hope.

And I'd like to see a T.V. show do that

Don't ask me, I'm Just the sub!

2011-01-04T17:46:00.000-06:00

Adventures in Subbing, Day 1

Today I had my first substitute teaching job. I learned a few things.
   #1 DO NOT EVER GET A SUBSTITUTE TEACHER FOR YOUR CLASSROOM AND NOT GIVE THEM LESSON PLANS...EVER!
   I mean seriously, how am I supposed to do a good job at keeping control of the classroom if I have nothing for your kids to do for an hour and a half??

   #2 No matter what the kids will try and take advantage of you.
   I thought I was ready for this, but these kids were CRAZY! I think they might just be those out of control types of kids anyways, but man did I have a headache!

   #3 Intermediate School is not the same as Junior High/Middle School
   It means 5th and 6th grade. You know, the grade level I would NEVER want to teach. Yeah. Those kids were crazy.

It wasn't all bad, but it opened my eyes to a new meaning behind the scripture, 'I can do all things in Christ which strengthen me.'

Tomorrow I'm saying a longer prayer.

Want to Cry?

2010-12-17T11:49:00.000-06:00

Because this right here is the meaning of Christmas. Such a sweet story.

Big Kids Job

2010-12-16T14:49:00.000-06:00

I have an interview tomorrow for a long term substitute teaching position at a high school in my district...Should I be nervous? Because I'm not.

I can't believe I'm old enough to be getting a big kids job...seriously.

I get by with a little help from my friends...

2010-12-14T22:46:00.000-06:00

Okay blogging world, I don't normally do this, but today I am needing your suggestions

I have been reading the Hunger Games series...I.am.addicted.

I need some books to tide me over for a 9 hour plane ride home on Saturday.

What do you suggest? What are some great books that will keep me interested?? HELP!!!

I'm not crying, my eyes are just leaking...

2010-12-10T14:18:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago, my dad asked us all to write a letter to my little brother. I guess for their Christmas Zone Conference, they wanted letters from their families talking about the meaning of Christmas. I wrote this letter, and I wanted to share it because it helped me see a lot of feelings I hadn't really come to terms with. Hope that you understand it, and hope that it warms your heart...but really, my eyes are just leaking.

4 December 2010

Elder McCarrey,

Well, I got this email from dad telling me that we were supposed to write you a letter about Christmas, but somehow not make you want to be home...haha, I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to do that, but I am going to try my best. Right now I am gearing up for the family fast for mom, and I have a lot on my mind, but I want to tell you about my favorite Christmas in the mission.

I’ll tell you right now, my first Christmas was not my favorite, but I will spare you the details.

My last Christmas in the mission was also in my last area. I had been there a little over a month and it was really hard to be there. The sister that had been there before me had been there six months and everyone loved her. When she left they were so sad and were not too excited to see me. Not that they were awful, it was just a hard change. The ward was struggling, there hadn’t been a baptism in quite a while, and everybody was pointing fingers at each other as to why the ward wasn’t really running right. It was a mess to say the least.

The day before Christmas was a sunday, so my companion and I attended ward counsel. The bishop mentioned he wanted to go visit the less actives and asked for help from the auxiliary committees...and nobody said anything. After a long pause, I said that we would come and suggested we carol to them. The bishop thought it was a good idea and told us he would bring his family. (THEY WERE AMAZING SINGERS!!!) So we met at the church and all piled in the back of the bishop’s pickup truck (and by back I mean we were all sitting in the bed of his truck. It was hilarious) We practiced a few songs on the way over there, and they even taught me a little about the bass clef. This was actually the night that I started to teach myself how to read the bass clef.

The first house we went to was a family that my companion and I had been working with for a while. They had just lost their grandfather and had been away. We got out, knocked on their door and just started singing. The whole family came out to listen and I just remember seeing the tears stream down their faces. Oh come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, the words seemed to have so much more meaning for this family, who had lost so much. Come and adore him,born the king of angels. I had never realized what a powerful call this song had. Come and worship the king of kings, come and show him you love him, respect him, and honor his sacrifice. Come and show him you are grateful for what He has done. We sang three hymns or so, I don’t really remember. All I remember is their faces, smiling, grateful for the love and support, and grateful at that time,for the knowledge they had of the gospel. Come and adore him Christ the Lord.

We visited every house that night, every house of every single member of the ward. With every house it was the same. Tears of gratitude, tears of love, and tears in knowing that though they had nothing, they had the gospel and that was enough. I will never forget it. I will never forget their faces, and how I felt.

I remember walking in the house that night, so late, but so grateful for the experience. The next morning, I had no presents to open (mom and dad were never very good with timing packages for me :) and I had no special food to eat, but I was so happy. My companion and I had each decided to try and recreate a Christmas tradition, so I failed at making Aunt Barbara’s sugar cookies, and she failed to make this cake. We laughed, and just enjoyed the day. I long for that feeling sometimes, just to be content with where I am at that moment.

To me, Christmas is more than waking up at the crack of dawn to open presents, it is more than the movie Christmas night and it is more than the eve of Christmas Eve party. It is knowing that my Lord and Savior has come, that he fulfilled his promise here on the earth, and that because of His blessed gift, I can be worthy to receive the ultimate gift- eternal life. It is knowing that despite my faults, my bad decisions, and my struggles to be who the Lord wants me to be, Christmas is knowing that because of a tiny babe in Bethlehem, someday I will put off the mortal and become immortal. Christmas is love, for it was the pure love of Christ that sent him to earth to bare my every hardship, feel my every pain, take upon him the cancer of my mother and the heart ache of being yet alone. It is because of the gift of his life, that I can now give to others.

Little brother, I hope this letter finds you well, but more importantly I hope it finds you filled with the joy that this season brings. I want you to know how much my decision to serve a mission has changed my life. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of the people and the experiences and thank my God in Heaven for what he has given me through my missionary service. I am not the same. I am, as always, so proud of you. I can feel the changes in you and it brings joy to my heart to know that this sacred calling has touched you in a way that only YOU will truly understand. Know that I pray for you daily and that I miss you, but not too much. You are where you need to be, and that is the greatest blessing our family could have right now. It is through your service that mom continues to do so well, and that the rest of us are surviving. I love you, I miss you, and I look forward to the phone call Christmas day.

Love love love you,

Jody

Yuck...

2010-12-09T17:41:00.002-06:00

Being sick is no fun. I am just glad that my body waited until AFTER I finished my Teacher Work Sample to shut down. I am grateful right now for two things:

Instant Streaming on Netflix
Sprite

Feel free to come take care of me.

Puppies and Candy Canes

2010-11-25T10:36:00.000-06:00

I have been trying to write this blog post for a few days now. Its funny how sometimes I just want to write, but don’t really know how to resolve the post until a few days later. I think I have become a bit more dedicated to this blogging scheme than I realized. I am ninety-nine percent positive that your lives would go on just fine without me, but every now and again, I just really fall in love with the ability I have to share my experiences.

So if you are my friend at all (Facebook or in real life) you know that my car got broken into last week. According to sources (read:everyone I know here in Houston) that is kind of like your initiation into being a Houstonian. If your car hasn’t been broken into, you really can’t claim Houston as home. I’m not gonna lie, this is one tradition I could have really done without.

The short version of the story is that I forgot to take my GPS mount off of my windshield. I also didn’t have to be at work early that day, so those two factors combined made for a really crappy situation. I headed to my car at around noon, thinking I would get an errand or two in before dropping by a school to observe. Well the second I approached my car I could see that my window was broken. It wasn’t until about three minutes later that I realized that I had left my wallet in the car as well as the GPS and my ipod. So not only did they steal my GPS and ipod, but they had free reign for a few hours on my bank account. Needless to say, it has been a hassle getting all my cards back and switching my accounts and all that.

Now, this week has been pretty stressful/overwhelming for several other reasons and I was really upset about the whole experience. Sometimes I think that Heavenly Father just loads it all on me at once, which is really hard to deal with sometimes. But on Friday, I forgot completely about the whole situation…

I had shown a movie the week before about my Uncle Brian, who has mental disabilities because of a drug overdose in high school. It was really important for me to show my students this movie that my amazing little sister had put together. The kids had responded really well and I had a few of them come up to me after class to thank me for sharing my experience with them. Well Friday was my last day as a student teacher, and my students were making Thanksgiving cards to give to their favorite teachers. I got quite a few more cards than I really expected to get. As I was reading them after school, one stood out to me.

J.B. is a really nice kid and I have enjoyed teaching him. I have deduced from some comments he has made in class that he used to do drugs. Well he wrote me a thanksgiving card and in it he explained to me that he had been a drug addict until about a year ago. J.B. said he had been drug free for over a year, but that last friday, he had been so stressed that he had agreed to get together with some friends and smoke marijuana. He then told me that showing the video reminded him why he decided to quit doing drugs in the first place, and thanked me for not just teaching him about spanish, but teaching him how to be a better person. He finished by thanking me for giving him the strength to continue to make right decisions. When I put the card down, I started crying.

2 Nephi 4:17-19

"Nevertheless, notwithstanding the great goodness of the Lord, in showing me his great and marvelous works, my heart exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my south grieveth because of mine iniquities. I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me. And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted."

My hometeachers reminded me on Sunday of this scripture. We have so many trials in life, and it is so hard sometimes to understand why all these things are happening to us. The beauty of the Gospel however, is understanding that everything has a purpose. I can’t expect to understand every little experience I have, why I am where I am and why things aren’t always puppies and candy canes. But what I CAN take comfort in is knowing that I have a loving Father in Heaven who puts me in positions to learn and grow. And while He doesn’t lay out His plan step by step for me, I know that He has one. And sometimes that’s all you really need.

But I would really love to have my wallet back.

Step on a crack...

2010-11-08T17:58:00.000-06:00

Lymphoma- cancer in the lymphatic of the immune system; presents as a solid tumor of lymphoid cells, treatable with chemotherapy and in some cases radiotherapy and/or bone marrow transplantation, can be curable depending on the histology, type, and stage of the disease.

You never really think that cancer is going to affect your family. It is one of those things that other people talk about, that you sympathize with, that you cry about in movies, but it never touches you. At least that is what I thought.

I was driving to a meeting about a month ago. I had a million things on my mind; what was I going to teach the next day, what I was going to do for my teacher work sample, etc. A passing thought rolled through my head, ‘Call your mom.’ Now, this isn’t all that rare. I call my mom 3-5 times a week, so I thought, ‘I will after the meeting.’ A few moments later it came stronger, ‘Call your mom.’ Not wanting to be disobedient, I called.

She sounded shaken up. We chit chatted for a second and I said, ‘Mom, what’s wrong?’ Her voice got really serious and she explained that she had found a lump on her hip and that what she had thought was a cyst was actually a solid mass, a tumor, cancer. I started crying, but she told me not to worry, like any good mom would. They were going to run some tests and get back to us.

Two weeks later I called her classroom. A substitute answered. I thought, ‘That’s odd, Mom only does that when she is sick or has a lot to do’. I called the house, and she answered. ‘Mom, what are you doing home?’ Her reply: ‘Its cancer.’ The official type of cancer she has been diagnosed with is Large B Cell Lymphoma.

I have thought a lot over the last couple weeks about what this means for me. I guess more than anything it means that I realize just how short life really can be. For now, we are going to fight it, but it makes me that much more grateful for the plan of salvation. My mom is not just my mom here on this earth, but she is my mom forever. She will be with me even if she isn’t with me. It has always been that way and it always will. I am scared, but I know that it is going to be alright because I know that in the end we will be together forever.

This week, Gap, Old Navy, and Banana Republic are doing a special. If you shop from November 11-14, you can get 30% off ANY purchase, and 5% of what you spend will be donated to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. If you have time, for my mom, and all the other moms, dads, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, sons, daughters, and cousins who are fighting for their lives, go buy yourself something nice. You never know when it is going to hit closer to home than you think.

Here is my cute mama with my cute dad and little brother.

Here is the promotional code for the discount.Gap Give And Get Is Here!

Its a small world after all!

2010-10-30T10:57:00.000-05:00

From the first day of school, I knew Juan was going to be tough to handle. He hated doing work in class, he was always sleeping, he wouldn’t bring writing utensils, paper or homework to class, it was a mess! My mentor teacher didn’t do very well in handling him either. She would automatically resort to sending him out of class instead of trying to deal with him before resorting to outside authority. I decided when I took over the class that I was going to kill Juan with kindness-something my grandmother taught me that I have always felt went a long way.

In the last couple of weeks, Juan and I have bonded. Admittedly I have been a bit more lenient on him than I probably should have, but I knew that being ridiculously stern with him would just make him push me and what I was trying to do away. So I have done everything I could to give him chances and it really has seemed to work. He was missing quite a bit of work, so his mother was called and she was actually quite pleasant on the phone. The next day he was doing better at answering questions and paying attention in class. He brought all his work in too and is now passing my class.

Today as my kids were writing I put on some music. I looked up a particular song on my computer and it happened to pull up with it Truman G. Madsen’s lectures on faith. Juan walked passed my computer, paused for a minute and then walked up to me. ‘Miss what church do you go to?’ he asked. I got a little nervous since I am not really sure how much of my religion I can talk about at school. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Are you Mormon, Miss?’ he pried. ‘Yeah I am.’ I said. ‘Me too.’he responded with a smile. My jaw about hit the floor.

I got the kids started on what they were doing and I went back to talk to him. I said (I was smiling the whole time and so was he just so you know, this was a friendly exchange), ‘I don’t believe you!’ He laughed and said, ‘I am! I am Miss I swear!’. Figuring I could catch him in a lie I said, ‘What class are you in in Young Mens?’ ‘I’m a priest.’ I just started laughing. He shared with me that he was the first member in his family, that he had been baptized in Mexico and was followed into the waters months later by the rest of his family except his father who is still not a fan of the church.

When he left today, he looked back at me, smiled and said, ‘I got you Miss.’ which is high school student for I respect you.

I am so glad I killed him with kindness.

The Lord will provide a way

2010-10-24T10:10:00.000-05:00

I love when things just work out.

So another thing that Elder Costa talked about was giving references to the missionaries. He actually did it in a really funny slightly rebuking manner. He asked everyone who had served a mission to raise their hand. And then he asked us to think about what we had always wished for from the members when we were missionaries. We of course said references. Then he said, Well guess what, you ARE the members now! haha I laughed. I set a goal to give the missionaries one reference a month.

Last week I was asked to give a talk on Elder Eyring's talk from general conference. He spoke on listening to the words of conference and then immediately going and doing. When preparing the talk I thought back to Elder Costa's invitation for us to give references to the missionaries. I have been talking with a co-worker about the church and he even agreed to come with me the week after next, so I figured that could be my reference for the month.

Well today my roommate and I were waiting for the maintenance man to show up. When he did I realized that I had talked to him a few weeks ago. I had been walking to my front door and he and another man were hosing off the roof. I asked in Spanish if they would kindly not get me wet. They laughed and then were impressed that I spoke Spanish. A week after that he saw me and said hello in Spanish so we chatted for a while that day too. Anyways, he walked in and helped us fix some lights. As he got down from the ladder I said, in Spanish, 'And God said, let there be light, and there was light and it was good.'

Carlos laughed and started talking to me about the bible, which sparked a 30 minute conversation about the priesthood and authority and why churches teach correct principles but were lacking the most important things. It was awesome. I was amazed at how Heavenly Father had prepared me that week. I had been reading in my Spanish scriptures, so they were sitting right there on the table. I just loved it. I could see though that it was going to take more than just me to speak to him, so I found the courage to just say, 'I have two missionary friends who would love to talk to you about this. I'll even come with them. Carlos, what is your phone number so that we can call you?' I braced myself for the worst, and surprisingly, he gave me his phone number.

As I was leaving my apartment that night, he was working outside another apartment and he asked me when we were going to come. I told him that the missionaries would be calling him. It was just awesome.

So in case you were wondering, if you make it a goal to give at least one reference a month to the missionaries, you should be prepared for them to walk right into your house, fix your lights and then practically beg you to teach them.

Just so you know.

That's my plan and I'm stickin to it.

2010-10-12T20:44:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I got to see Elder Costa speak in person. He.was.awesome.

I have never seen someone glide so effortlessly between making me laugh histerically and bringing the spirit around like a powerhouse. It was perfect for me. He talked about quite a few things, but one thing in particular just hit me right to the core.

Elder Costa shared several stories about how he had delt with change and opposition in his life. He talked first about being called to be the YSA Regional Stake Representative two weeks after becoming a member and accepting the calling without even knowing what a stake was. (His exact story was that after he accepted the call he mentioned he had two questions, one was 'What's a stake?' and the other was 'What's YSA?' HA!) He talked about being two weeks away from marriage when he lost his job, but told us that he went ahead and got married anyways because he knew the Lord would provide. Elder Costa shared stories from his years as a mission president, how he got called to be in the Second Quorum of the 70, the plans he and his wife made for after his release from that calling and other's reactions to his plan making. At one point he told one of the other General Authorities that his plan was to retire and spend the rest of his life with his wife living on the beach. This GA asked him, 'Well what if you get called to something else?' to which Elder Costa replied, 'I make my plans, the Lord have my number. He want to change my plans, He call me!' The man was just adorable.

I know that at least that particular part of his talk was directed at me.

Planning is not my forte. In fact I would say that over the last couple of years I have mastered the art of drifting. It is easier to be a victim of circumstance than it is to accept responsibility for poor planning, and I have done that a lot over the last few years. Especially in the last few months when I have had to really think about where I want to be in the next couple of years. I actually have to PLAN what I want for my life. It is no longer acceptable to say, 'Well it depends on...' NO! If the Lord has something in store for me, He will guide me to it. I need to make decisions and weigh the options and show Him that I trust Him enough to let Him guide me to places and people and experiences that I need to grow.

So I am starting to formulate a plan. Trust me it is not easier with my new found understanding. In fact I would say it is down right SCARY to make plans for a life, just hoping that Heavenly Father will guide me to the things I want...but if there is one thing I know, it is that He has a plan. I just have to be faithful and things will work out in the way they are supposed to.

Besides, the Lord has my number.

And on the 8th day, God created the turn signal...

2010-09-30T22:10:00.000-05:00

One thing that has been a little hard to get used to here in the great state of Texas is the awful driving skills that some people have. I honestly hate driving here (which is sad cuz I love driving) because it is absolutely insane ESPECIALLY during rush hour. Commuters hardly ever use their turn signals, weave in and out of traffic, and are particularly fond of what I call the 'Texas Dive'. The Texas Dive is when you are in the fast lane and suddenly realize your exit is a quarter of a mile away...or closer. It is at that point that you glide across three lanes of traffic without so much as looking behind you to get off the freeway. Daily occurance where I'm from.

I had a meeting until 5 pm last Wednesday, which meant I was driving home in the middle of the crappiest time to be on the road. Houston has about 4 million people who all tend to get on the road at the exact same time, which means that the roads run to a stand still in 6 seconds flat. There is undoubtably going to be at least three accidents on any particular highway at any particular time. As I was making my way home the other day, the traffic slowed down to a stop and then creeped around the corner. Sure enough, there were four cars pulled over to the side and a tow truck loading one of them up.

The fast lane was trying to merge with the lane next to the fast lane, my lane. I let my mandatory one car in front of me in, as is standard oporating procedure. But all of the sudden the car behind the car I let in decided they were entitled to not wait any longer. They started to pull out in front of me. Not wanting to be hit, I slowed down. The passanger in the car rolled the window down and proceeded to very animatedly tell me to slow down so that they could get in. I was pretty annoyed at this point. Then...the unthinkable happened. As they sped away in front of me, the passenger flipped me the bird. ME! Like it was my fault. I was so mad I cussed (sorry dad). And then, I was so mad at myself for cussing, that I started crying. Yup, pretty standard for a drive home, don't ya think?

So there I was, in rush hour, crying, and why? Because things just didn't seem to be going my way.

Today it was something similar. It had been a long day, I was tired, things hadn't gone spectacularly. Traffic was awful and despite a great chat with my padre on the way home I was still feeling a little down. I got home and took a nap because nothing cures a bad day like a nap. I was awoke by the sound of a text message from my roommate reminding me that we were going to go Visiting Teaching (yeah I know its the last day of the month, don't judge) We got there and met beautiful Stephanie. She is a recent convert and it was so fun to talk to her about her very first General Conference and things she could do to prepare. She was so excited about life and everything that the future held for her and I just though, 'I am so glad I am here right now!' I am so excited to get to know her better.

After that, I wanted to go running but knew that I had a million other things I needed to do. My roommate asked if I wanted to go walking with her. I didn't really have the time, but I decided to go anyways. On that walk she poured her little heart out to me, and I was subtlely reminded by the spirit that I was where I needed to be. Life is tough! But we all have reasons to be grateful.

I love my job.

I have an amazing family.

I have a strong testimony of the gospel

And right now I'm just grateful that no one flipped me off on the way home.

The best little home teacher this side of the equator

2010-09-28T18:09:00.000-05:00

When I was a freshman in college, two cousins were assigned to be my visiting teachers. They were dear girls, and they would set appointments well in advance so that I knew when they were coming. They would bring me treats, leave me notes, all the things every good visiting teacher would do. And I would avoid them. Like the plague. I was known in those days to fake sleeping just so I wouldn’t have to talk to them. Little did I know three years later one of them would serve in the same zone as myself in Chile and we became close friends.

I have a confession to make. I don’t like being home/visit taught. (GASP!) I know. Its not that I don’t like my Home/Visiting teachers, its not that I don’t want the spiritual thought. I think really the thing that drives me bonkers is all of that attention, awkwardly placed on me, for an undetermined amount of time. This might be a shock to you. Do I love attention? Of course. But that much undivided attention from two of my male/female friends for somewhere between 15 minutes and an hour and a half is always so uncomfortable for me.

On Sunday, my home teachers had set up an appointment to come by that evening and teach myself and my roommate. I didn’t remember this until I was on my way out the door to a mixer and I knew I wasn’t going to be back until late that evening. OOPS! I left a message with my roommate to tell them I was sorry and that they could count me as visited because it was my fault I wasn’t there. Imagine my surprise last night when at FHE they asked if they could come over right afterwards to teach me. I had so much to do, but I said yes.

So in walk Jake and Gavin, my wonderful, amazing home teachers. They sit down on the couch, and instead of heading right into the lesson, they ask me how I have been. I say good. Short. Quick. Jake pries, asking what has been going on at school. We start to chat about my kids, student teaching, education, you name it. Each time I try to be as brief as possible and yet they seem so interested and before I know it I am talking to them about how my mentor teacher drives me crazy and how the internet hasn’t worked at our school for three days. They give me ideas for things I could try, commend me for things they think I’m doing right and this whole time, not once did they look at their watches.

Then comes the lesson, short, sweet, read the Book of Mormon. Then they each take turns bearing me their testimonies. I am challenged to read it more often. And then a funny thing happens. Jake opens his mouth and starts telling me things that I really needed to hear about decisions I am making in my life, what I’m trying to do and accomplish. He promises me that Heavenly Father will bless me as I strive to put him first in my life. He asks me if I have enough food to eat, how my cupboards are looking. I say fine. He asks if I am having any fun, if I am balancing school and social. I laugh and say I’m doing my best. And then with a prayer they are gone.

I can’t even describe how really touching that whole event was for me. I am grateful for home teachers who care enough to make more than the minimum effort.

Moral of the story: Don’t fake naps.

A Little Stroll Down Memory Lane

2010-09-12T23:06:00.000-05:00

Five years ago this week, I walked into the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. Anxious, excited, a little sad, I was ready to take on the challenges and trials that the Lord put before me. First and foremost, I was ready to take on the Spanish language. I was ready to learn it, inside and out, understand it, eat it, sleep it, BREATHE the very essence of spanish. It wasn't easy. In fact I would say there were times in the following few months that I really struggled. It was so difficult to feel like I couldn't express all the feelings in my heart. It was so trying to have the words on the tip of my tongue but not have them come out. There were times when I felt so alone, but I learned so much from that experience.

Flash forward two years. I'm back at BYU and I am trying to decide what on earth to do with my life. Do I try to go back to Music Education? Do I pursue other career paths? Something urged me to not turn my back on what I had spent the year and half doing. So I entertained the thought of Spanish Education. I said to myself, 'I'll apply. If I get in, then that's what Heavenly Father wants me to do.' Much to my surprise, I was accepted on my first application...something that had NOT happened with Music Ed at all.

Skip forward to a classroom in Houston, Texas. I am speaking, in fluent Spanish to a bunch of kids who probably don't have the SLIGHTEST clue what I'm talking about. I'm modeling what I'm asking of them as I speak, I'm using the most simple words possible and a student finally cannot handle it anymore. She exclaims in frustration, 'THIS IS NOT HOW I LEARN!' To which I reply, 'YEs, it is.'

So many times in life, we have experiences, and we don't really know why we have them. Years later we are brought to the realization of how important those experiences were to us. This week, I realized just how important that simple decision to go on a mission has been for me.

Happy Sabbath.

Why I Teach

2010-09-02T19:07:00.000-05:00

I have a student in my ESL class, C. He is from a central american country and has only been in the U.S. since April. He speaks very little english and I can tell that most of his behavior issues stem from that. A few days ago we were talking before class with a few of the students and he mentioned that he didn't like english and didn't need it because he would never make it to college anyways. As a teacher, that is one of those comments you just CRINGE at. I asked him if he wouldn't mind chatting with me after class. I ended up having to talk to my mentor teacher right after that so I didn't get a chance to talk to him.

To my surprise a few hours later he came by my other classroom during passing period to talk with me. I explained to him, as a bilingual myself, that speaking BOTH languages fluently would help him gain a substantial amount more money than if he never learned to speak english. C told me he didn't really care because his parents had kicked him out, he was living on the street, and he was most likely going to be deported come February anyways. Besides, he told me, all the english he needed to learn, h e learned in the street. My heart sank. I reassured him that no matter WHERE he was living, learning english would help. He said he would think about it.

This morning, before first period I was getting some things ready in the classroom. C approached me and in pure english said,
   'Remember the conversation we had.'
   'Of course!' I replied.
   'I am going to try.'
   'GOOD, C!' I almost hugged him, 'That makes me very happy.'
   'I want to learn.'

Today during class he was on the ball, so attentive and really working hard, and it was amazing how HIS attitude affected the rest of the class. They put out some real quality work today.

C walks by my classroom at least twice a day. He always stops, shakes my hand and says hello.

This is why I teach.

Are you WHITE?

2010-08-25T22:33:00.000-05:00

Teaching people of other diversities is always something a little bit unusual. You never know how they are going to react to you, and if you are me, you will worry that everything coming out of your mouth will offend them. Part of my reasoning behind coming down to Houston, besides to be adventurous, was to be in contact with a really different racial diversity than the one I have experienced in my observations in Utah. Not that they aren't varied there, but I wanted the hard places. I wanted the students that everyone said were the bad ones, I wanted to teach in the tough places. I am already starting to see that being here could not be farther from the truth. Granted this is the first week of school and I haven't officially taken over the classes yet, but it has already been so much fun to interact with the students and have those little meaningful experiences.

My classload is a lot different than I thought it would be. I have one period of ESL (English as a Second Language) with a WIDE variety of English proficiency in each student. I have two periods of Spanish 3, two periods of Spanish 3/4 which is for native speakers and one period of Spanish 5 which is a literature course for native speakers. I love each class for different reasons, but my Spanish 3 classes seem to be the funniest. In particular I have an african-american student who just cracks me up. I'll call him T. T came into our class on Monday and mine, the other student teacher, and our co-operating teacher's names were on the board. My last name is very white, but the other two have spanish last names since both of them married latins. I noticed that T kept looking at the board and then at each of us. Finally he raised his hand. We called on him and this is what he said: 'I ain't tryin ta be racist u nothin, but are ya'll white?' We laughed and said yes, to which he replied, 'Why you be teachin spanish den?'

I also had another student L ask me if she had mistakenly been put in the native-speaker class since we were speaking so much spanish in the classroom. I replied that it was in fact the class for non-native speakers. She replied, 'Then why ya'll be speakin spanish all the time?' I laughed and explained that it was the only way they were going to learn.

Its funny how you can meet a group of people for the first time and already love them so much. I guess that is what charity is all about. I think for the first time in my life I TRULY understand the meaning of 'the pure love of Christ'. I look at my students every day, and I realize that I don't know them very well. I have only had them for a few days but I already love and care about each and every one of them. There is this wonderful balanced relationship between students and teachers. They are so smart and observant that I am CONSTANTLY in awe of them. Today I was helping some students with an assignment and one of them turned to me and said, 'Miss, you are ALWAYS singin'.' I started laughing, because anyone that knows me pretty well knows this is true. I apologized and then girl sitting next to him said, 'No that's a good thing Miss, it means you always happy.' They just make me smile. I see them in the hallway and they go out of there way to say hello to me and are trying hard to remember my name. (I've shortened it to Miss Mac just cuz it is easier and I kind of love it.)

I am happy here.

This is during the rain storm in the middle of the Jack Johnson Concert.

We were still stoked to be there!

Fit me in a perfect little box

2010-08-19T23:31:00.000-05:00

Well, I've done it. I've up and moved to Houston, Texas. (And by moved I mean I'm here until at least the end of November, unless by some strange miracle, I develop a southern drawl, start wearing cowboy boots and decided to change my name to Betty Sue. At which point I will live here indefinitely.) Its been quite the adjustment. I'm still sleeping on a floor mat in a sleeping bag and I still groan every time I leave the house....car...building...etc, when that wave of humidity hits me, but I'm told it will get better come September. I'll believe that when I see it.

I became obsessed with windmills (or whatever these things are called) on my drive down to Texas.

The last few days I have been going to my very first 'big kid job' going to 'big kid trainings' and talking about 'big kid things'. Its been interesting to be doing it outside of Utah. Granted I am a student-teacher which automatically makes me a second class citizen no matter what, but I feel like the conversations are a lot different because I am not surrounded by those of my same faith. In some ways its been refreshing , in others its been a bit awkward. (Trying to explain why I don't drink at twenty-six and am declining an invitation to Happy Hour was a highlight.) All in all, I am excited to be here. I can't wait to meet my students, go to high school football games, and help chaperone homecoming...yeah, I'm that teacher.

Last Thursday was my first day on my high school campus. It was a vigorous day of meetings (read:boring), but it was awesome to meet my co-operating teachers who are both awesome and meet my fellow teachers. Throughout the day they had us do all of these 'personality tests' that were 'scientifically proven' to tell what type of people we were. They basically listed off things and we were instructed to pick one t hing from the group and that told what type of person we were. The first one was animals. I looked at the list of animals (a beaver, a bee, an owl, a chameleon and a dolphin) and this was my thought process: 'Well, I lived in Utah so I guess a bee works...But dolphoins are legit. Then again owls are pretty cool and wise and all, but I guess I have never seen one, but if we go off of that I could really only be two of those animals on the list.' (you get the point) I ended up sticking with the bee even though I DO NOT love bees at all. The scientific answer for the type of person I was was totally inaccurate.

So I determined that no matter what you do, you cannot fit me in a box, and that makes me happy.

Be happy! Its what Jesus would do.

2010-07-15T03:07:00.000-05:00

A phone call telling you a loved one has passed away is never a way to start a day. Especially when the passing was unexpected and an absolute tragedy. Today has been an awful mix of emotions as the details have unfolded and I have slowly come to grips with the fact that Brittni is gone. Through the day I have realized quite a few things about my own testimony, and I am so grateful for the knowledge of plan of salvation.

I have always known that the Lord has a plan for each and every one of us individually. I have always known that if we were willing to live in a manner befitting of a child of God that he would make this plan known to us. As I have thought about the way that Brittni lived her life and loved others, there is no doubt in my mind that she was aware of the plan that Heavenly Father had put forth for her.

Words cannot express my sorrow for the loss of the most Christ-like person I have ever met, but I can tell you this. Without a doubt I know that God lives, the Jesus is the Christ, the Savior of the world and that His atonement made it possible for us to be saved from the permanent separation of God. Just a few weeks ago Brittni lent me a book called 'The Continous Atonement' which talks about our ability to do all we can and that the difference will be made up by the Savior. I know that this is true, that I can be redeemed again and again because of the sacrifice of the blood of Christ, once for all (see Hebrews 10). But I especially know that they loved us so much that God and His son have provided a way for us to return to them, that there is a plan and that if we are faithful, we can enjoy all the blessings that have been prepared for us.

So as Brittni would say, don't be a sissy lala. We all have struggles, but its about the climb. Look for the JOY in life, not the sorrows. Look for reasons to be grateful and not reasons to complain. Be close to God in word AND deed and if God can't come to you, go to Him. Walk in His valleys, climb His mountains, and then be still and KNOW that He is God. He is in control and if we put our trust in Him, though bad things happen, we can be happy knowing that it is His way of reminding us that we are alive. And being alive is something to be grateful for. Life is too short to whine.

To my dear Brittni, know that I am eternally grateful to your example of love and kindness. I will never forget you, and next year, I will run the full Mayor's Marathon. And I'll be doing it with you, just like we planned.

Feelings of forever

2010-06-28T03:08:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I know. You thought I was dead. I have been thinking about a few different posts that I want to write, but this one has been a top priority as of late and I cannot go to bed this Sunday evening without talking about this.

I have been realizing that the older I get, the more my sisters mean to me.

If you have been following this blog for even a little bit, you know that I have set a goal to eventually run a full marathon. I haven't put a date on that goal (I should probably do that...I'm thinking June of next year) but I have begun to work towards it by running half marathons. I have run two in the last three months and each of them were quite challenging in their own ways. Salt Lake was hot. Anchorage was hilly.

I was really nervous about the Salt Lake Half. It was my first solo run and I wasn't sure I was going to be able to do it as well as I wanted to. I had been training, but I wasn't really following a training program and was up and down in my distances. When I got to the starting line I felt a little overwhelmed. I didn't even KNOW anyone that was running it that I could start out with. I searched the crowd for a familiar face and found no one. I haven't felt that alone in a while. I started out the race well, I actually did the first three miles in about 27 minutes which is the FASTEST 5k I have ever run. I was actually doing well till about mile 10 and that is where I just decided that I didn't want to be running anymore. The best way I can describe it is a desperation to stop moving. I started whimpering to myself. Not straight up crying, but just... a really strong desire to give up. About this time, I see off in front of me what appears to be my little sister Joree and her husband Kody. They hadn't told me they were coming. In fact I don't even think I asked them to come, but regardless, they were there, right where I needed them. I got so excited that I ran to the side of the group and called out her name in an almost desperate cry. She instantly started cheering me on and it gave me the push I needed to finish hard. As I ran past her I started crying. I was so grateful for her at that moment.

Fast forward to last weekend. If I thought my training for the SL Half was spotty, I would say my training for the Mayor's Half was non-existant. With work and trying to be an active YSA during the summer months made for a very little amount of time to train. But foolishly I still signed up for the race. I guess I just didn't want to chicken out even though realistically it wasn't the smartest thing to do. The night before my older sister Jamie decided to come be my cheerleader and bike the race along with me. I think by cheerleader, she meant all out running/inspiration coach. She was with me every step of the way telling me to push and then talked me through the tough parts. I am pretty positive not many people around me appreciated her constant talk, but I was so thankful she was with me.

So I am glad that I am sealed to my sisters. They support me in my goals (no matter how stupid) and they push me when I need it (which is quite often) . If I ever make it onto an EFY CD, it will be because these two helped me make it possible.

This was the most recent picture of all of us girls together...it was taken over a year ago. Sad.

We used to have a pillow at our house. I don't know where it came from, and I don't know who gave it to us, but it said, 'Chance made us sisters, hearts made us friends.' I'm glad that my heart is bound to theirs forever, because, though we may fight and argue and bicker amongst ourselves (I mean, come on, we are girls!), they are the only ones I want to be with in the eternities.

I'm ALIVE!!

2010-05-25T12:22:00.000-05:00

The beauty of the gospel, in my opinion, is that each of us is allowed to learn lessons at different times. For example; if I had had to learn the 'be mature' lesson before I was allowed to progress in any other area...I would still probably be stuck on the 'be mature' check-off point. Sure I would be working at it, striving to be better, but in the mean time, all of these other teaching opportunities would be wasted on me because I would only be looking and focusing on 'being mature.'

I realized this week that the Lord has been trying to teach me, for a VERY long time, how to make good choices the first time. I won't go into too many details, but there was a point in my life where I would choose what I wanted over what I thought the Lord wanted. (See waiting to turn my mission papers in for 6 months, even though I had gotten some pretty serious revelation that I needed to go, because of a boy...stupid!) The beauty of repentance is that it is always available to those who are willing to seek after it, but wouldn't it be better to just do things right the first time?! Of course it is. But most of us don't learn that way. That is why we have agency, and that is why the atonement was necessary.

I heard a quote when I was younger that has always stuck out to me. It said something along the lines of 'Our lives are made of every day choices that will one day show what we truly believed.' I always thought it was catchy. I think I even wrote it on a piece of paper and put it on my wall so I would remember it. But only now, in my mid twenties, am I seeing how that correlation between the small choices and my happiness really are.

In a talk called Choices by President Faust, he similarly equated our happiness to our ability to choose. He said:

In this life we have to make many choices. Some are very important choices. Some are not. Many of our choices are between good and evil. The choices we make, however, determine to a large extent our happiness or our unhappiness, because we have to live with the consequences of our choices. Making perfect choices all of the time is not possible. It just doesn't happen. But it is possible to make good choices we can live with and grow from. When God's children live worthy of divine guidance they can become 'free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon.'

That is one of my favorite scriptures. So I am choosing to act for myself this week and not be acted upon. I am choosing to run that extra mile even though I know nobody but me will know the difference. I am choosing to not be 'reactional' but rather choose my mood and not let my mood choose me.

Because 60% of the time, it works EVERY time.

Oh that? That's just my survival shuffle.

2010-04-14T22:37:00.000-05:00

My last companion in the mission field was a cross country runner for USU. She helped me drop about 15lbs before heading home. (I could have used to drop about 15 more, but hey, at least it was an improvement). I loved Hermana Johnson for more than just her ability to inspire me to run. She was one of the most pure hearted people I have ever met. She was stubborn as a mule but not afraid to admit when she was wrong. She was awesome.

The thing that I found so amazing about her is that she LOVED to run. For her birthday, we got up a half hour earlier than normal so that we could go on this mega long run and tackle this hill (that was most definitely out of our area...) and so that she could just get out there and stretch her legs. We ran hard and fast and when we got to the huge hill, I was about to die.

This is us on our run. Look how chubby I was...yuck!

This is when she taught me about the survival shuffle.

It is basically just moving your legs like you are running even though you are going slower than a running pace. It allows you to rest, but to not let yourself give up and walk. I love the survival shuffle.

I am a mere two days away from my first solo half marathon. The only other time I ran a half marathon, I ran with my dad who helped me to finish without stopping. This new race is going to be really different because I will be by myself. I have a great ability of talking myself out of things I really want when I am tired or feel like it is too hard. I am so very worried about this in the race on Saturday because I REALLY want to finish this half by myself and be able to say that I did just as well as when I ran with my dad. I am more scared then I ever remember being about anything, but I am trying to look forward to the race regardless of my fear.

I was looking up things online about different running techniques during long races and I came across a phrase that has stuck with me this week. The advice for the runner was simple: Think that you can.

President Faust gave a talk back in 2002 in priesthood session called I Believe I can, I knew I Could. While most of it applies to the use of the priesthood, there were a few things that stood out to me. First he said, 'At times all of us are called upon to stretch ourselves and do more than we think we can.' This experience is not unique to me, nor to this time. ALL of us at times are going to be asked to do something that is seemingly impossible, but will help us prove what we are made of. (I know I wasn't really called upon to run this race, but bare with me.)

President Faust went on to say the following:'The Lord entrusts all of His servants...with spiritual talents. The Lord, who endows us with these talents, tells us: 'I believe you can. I believe you can.'

So if you happen to be in the crowd on Saturday, and you see me running by, don't be surprised if you see my lips moving and hear the words 'I think I can.'

And don't be scared if I look like death...thats just part of the survival shuffle.

Nintendo and the Easter Bunny

2010-04-04T17:49:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was my good buddy Rob's birthday and for his birthday, we celebrated the day before with a surprise party including but not limited to a little Rockband. Rockband may very well be the only video game that I can even semi play...and if you saw me play drums you might just beg to differ.

Over the years I have thought a lot about why it is that I stink so badly at video games, and I realized the other day that the person at fault is...The Easter Bunny.

The Christmas I turned ten or eleven, my older brother got a Nintendo gaming system. We were all really excited about it. Strategically Santa had left my older sister a Game Genie or something like that. It was a universal cheat...not that we really needed it since the only games we had were Duck Hunt, Super Mario Brothers, Mike Tyson Knock Out and some game that had to do with fighting Ninjas. Regardless, we were in kid heaven. Christmas break was spent playing the Nintendo. I wasn't any good of course so level 1-2 of Mario Brothers was about as far as I got, but my older siblings plowed through like they had been playing for years. And in all actuality they probably were since they were old enough to have friends who also had Nintendos. We were a bit behind on the video gamer trend. I would watch my older brother for hours as he got past level after level and got closer to eventually beating King Kupa. My parents I am sure were just grateful to get us all to keep quiet for long periods of time. Having five kids may not seem like that big of a deal if you come from a big family, but we were a very energetic group. I'm sure at times it felt to my parents as if they had 15.

The one thing my parents probably did not expect was my little brother, who was three or four at the time, to also love playing Nintendo. He of course couldn't play very well...at least I think he was, but he would often fall asleep playing the game. A few times my parents even caught him, in the middle of the night, curled up in a ball on our play room floor with the remote control in his hand and the Super Mario Brothers theme playing on repeat. This was a bit disconcerting to my parents who forsaw a life of couchpotatoe-ness and were afraid to raise a nerdy child. So they did what any parent would do. They came up with a deceiving plan that would make sure the Nintendo was gone without having to look like mean parents.

Easter is an exciting time of year for little kids. Besides Christmas, it is the most exciting holiday as you wake up and go on killer scavenger hunts looking for baskets and hidden eggs. (Hopefully your parents will remember where all the eggs are hidden so that you do not have to go through what we went through one year, finding an egg, very well hidden by my dad, a few WEEKS after Easter. :) We woke that Easter morning anticipating the hunt for eggs, candy and our individual baskets. Imagine my little brother's surprise, when his basket was hidden in plain sight, right where the Nintendo had been placed just the evening before. Imagine his further astonishment when there was a note attached to his basket from the Easter Bunny. I do not remember the specifics of the note, but in essence it said that the Easter Bunny had left Jaden's basket in exchange for the Nintendo. I remember him saying distinctly, 'He stole it?!?' to which my parents just nodded their heads and said yes.

For months after that, if anything we liked went missing, we would simply state that the Easter Bunny had taken it. It was as if he transformed from a happy little rabbit spreading cheer and candy to a dirty thief. He was the most hated of all of the holiday representatives. Years later as I was rummaging through old things as we packed up our house to move I found our old Nintendo. I had long since realized that it was my parents, and not the Easter Bunny, who had taken it, but I had not known its true fate. I learned that my older siblings were actually in on the deal and were allowed to know its whereabouts and when the younger siblings were asleep or gone, they were allowed to get it out and play.

I laugh at how creative my parents are and were back then. I wonder how many other things like this were done to keep my parents sane and to help us kids be better...and less annoying.

I wonder what happened to my old recorder?

I bet the Easter Bunny took it. :)

A little laugh

2010-03-29T01:46:00.000-05:00

I have plenty to say about going to Houston, but I will save that for a serious blog post.

Knowing that there are people in my ward who read this blog, I am still going to share this hilarious situation. If you know who I'm talking about...just be a pal and don't tell!

So at the beginning of February, I went on a date with a guy in my ward. To say the least it was...pretty awkward (lets just say I got pushed up against a wall in an effort on his part to seduce me.) Anyways, we never went out again, though a few weeks ago he sat next to me in church, and proceeded to put his arm around me and rub my arm. It was as if we were dating. But we weren't. I believe that was the last time that I really spoke with him.

This morning in ward council he announced that he was engaged. To a girl. He has supposedly been dating for three months. I laughed

You do the math. :)

Deep in the heart of....ah who'm I kidding I hate Texas

2010-03-25T23:56:00.000-05:00

Sleeping in has been a horrible habit to get into during the week where everything is due. Unfortunately my body has decided to be terrible lately. I have no energy...I haven't even run this week! And of course this is the week that all teachers assign things because they think that they are being so clever in assigning things two weeks before the last week of the semester and nobody else is as clever as they are to assign things. Yeah, thanks, I have a billion papers now to write because you are 'so clever'.

So this has been the week of big little changes for me. A few months back I talked about doing my student teaching in D.C. I was all set up to go, all excited to go...I even had my first day of school outfit picked out. (A little premature you say? Well...you're probably right but a girl has to get excited about something okay.) A few days ago I get an email stating that I would not be able to do my TELL (Teaching English Language Learners) practicum (mini student teaching) in D.C. and was I aware of that and would I be doing it in Utah next winter. Um. No. That was not my plan. So I start making phone calls and sending emails and come to find out that, basically, BYU hates me....

Okay they don't hate me but they do not want to budge on this one. I was pretty upset. I came home and went to a friend of mine's apartment to vent. This is about how this went down.

(embrace for a long period of time because he gives good hugs)

ME:I can't go to D.C.

Alex: I'm sorry. That sucks

ME: I am so mad right now

Roommate 1: Maybe this is God telling you you aren't supposed to go.

ME: You are not helping

Alex: Yeah I think he may be on to something.

Me: You are not helping

Roommate 2: Yeah, look at it this way, you made a decision and Heavenly Father is basically telling you its the wrong one!

ME: You guys suck. Don't play the God card. I want to be upset.

Alex: We are just sayin, you have options.

So I have been weighing out my options. I can go to Houston, do my student teaching and my TELL practicum at the same time no problem. But Houston just doesn't sound as exciting as D.C. and it wasn't the plan. I talked to the coordinators today and they said it wouldn't be a problem to switch to Houston, but I don't know that I really want to go there. The upside to going there is that there are a lot of jobs for teachers there and they start you at $45,000 a year...which is pretty good for a teacher right out of college. Student teaching there would be good because it would give me a sense of what Texas was all about without committing me to teaching there for life.

Or I could stay in Utah. Which I discovered, much to my own shock, is what I consider a cowardly move today. I said it out loud and realized that that is my big stigma with staying here. Because me staying here is me having no faith. Its the part of me that says, 'You can't leave Utah, you aren't married!' Its the part of me that my parents agree with and the part of me that I hate the most. Perfectly mormon people get married out of Utah all the time. I don't need to stay here...do I?

I can't help but think, and shame on me for thinking this, that this would all be so much easier if I had a husband who's life could help scaffold mine. I know I know, not this again. But honestly, when you have a teaching degree and no husband going to school or working or whatever, when you graduate you can LITERALLY go almost anywhere. And if you haven't noticed, the U.S. is kind of gynormous.

So where do I go?? How do you choose when both options are good and neither are inherently 'wrong'?

"In life ALL must choose at times. Sometimes, two possibilities are good; neither is evil. Usually however, one is of greater import than the other. When in doubt, each must choose that which concerns the good of others-the greater law- rather than that which chiefly benefits ourselves- the lesser law. The greater must be chosen, whether it be law or thing..." - Elder John A. Widtsoe

I guess I'll make a pros and cons list.

What I learn in the war chapters

2010-03-23T13:41:00.000-05:00

I have been trying to be extremely consistent in my scripture reading lately. (I know, didn't I learn that on the mission? Well the answer is no, I got good at it on the mission, but unfortunately when you get off of a bike, no matter how good at riding it you are, you can't get anywhere on it.) Ever since my little brother went into the MTC (he leaves today for Indiana...you'd think he'd call but he didn't) I have thought about things I want to be better about and scripture reading and sincere prayer are high on the list.

Last night I read Ether 11 which is just a seemingly unspiritual chapter amongst other geneological chapters that don't really teach you really rich deep doctrine that make you believe that the church is true and that your life is so much better having read. I also read a little in Revelations (which I don't understand at all) and didn't really think to much about what I read because I was more excited to almost be done with the New Testament and excited to start the Old Testament. I said my prayers after that, got into bed, and promptly fell asleep.

This morning as I was in the shower I randomly started thinking about what I had read last night. (that hardly ever happens, I am not that spiritual...and I rarely wake up early enough to shower before class) I realized that even though I don't participate in wars, I could relate my reading to what is going on in my life right now. When it talks about 'making war' I could substitute 'gossiping' or 'being offended'. When it says that 'prophets came' and 'prophesied of the destruction of the people except they should repent and turn unto the Lord and forsake their murders and wickedness' I can think, 'bishops and priesthood leaders came and gave talks about the deterioration of a good life except I should repent and turn to the Lord and forsake my cursing habit and my habit of judging others.'

So even though I have been told my whole life to liken the scriptures unto my own life, I just now figured out exactly what that meant. Excuse my friend here, she is a little slow.

List of grateful

2010-03-17T19:30:00.000-05:00

I don't do this too often, so I thought today being such an important day in my heritage (just kidding I have no idea what St. Patrick's Day celebrates but I'm Irish and Scottish so I pretend it is important) I thought I would write down a few things I am grateful for. Thanks Lucky Charms.

*My Ipod shuffle- I remember running my first half with my Ipod classic and how the arm band straight rubbed me raw...it hurt. I am glad in our society we are constantly trying to make things smaller. (I'm leaving this one wide open.)

*The Provo/Jordan River trail- Yesterday I was supposed to run 6 miles. The thought of running 6 miles on a tredmill made me sick to my stomach. Thanks to this trail, I didn't have to!

*My Ironman Triathalon watch- I still have to work out the kinks but for the most part, you keep me from whimping out on my runs. Thanks for measuring my steps.

*The teenage kids who wrote on the trail- I was getting pretty tired on the last mile back to my house, but I was entertained as I ran by nice little notes in chalk on the trail. They said things like, 'You are fat.' and 'Giving up is for skinny people.' Genius.

*Honky Tonk Ba Donka Donk- Say what you want about this song, but when you are running, it is a good pump up. Trust me. Who wants to be known as the girl with the honky tonk ba donka donk? Not me.

*A little brother on a mission- I had to throw this one in here because I think about him every day and I am so grateful he is on a mission. I can't wait till he gets out of the MTC though so that my urge to just walk up there and see him will be unwarrented. I live a block away. Its ridiculous.

Happy St. Patty's to you all.

Water Water Everywhere

2010-03-13T20:44:00.000-06:00

I have thought a lot lately about things that I need to work on. One of them is my prayers. I pray every day, don't get me wrong, but a lot of the time I feel like they become quite monotonous or I feel like I pray for the exact same things and they don't reach beyond the ceiling. (someone important said something about that, but I can't remember who it was.) On Monday I was sitting in class and we were talking about The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. My mom has always talked about this poem and so I thought I would look it up on line and see what it was all about.

The story is about a crew of sailors that get lost and head to a place with large ice walls and the follow an albatross who leads them to safety. Then one of the foolish sailors decides to shoot it down and they whole crew dies from a curse except the sailor who shot down the albatross. He is then cursed to tell his tale to all. His moral reads 'He prayeth best, who loveth best; All things both Great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, he made and loveth all.'

Our prayers are a direct reflection of our ability to love, and lately, I have really only been thinking of myself. I haven't been loving others enough, and so I haven't been able to feel God's love as much in my prayers. (God always loves us the same, but sometimes we put up barriers that make it harder to FEEL His love.) Elder Bednar gave a series of conference talks related to prayer that I have been reading over since then. My favorite quote is from his April 2008 talk you can read here. It goes a little something like this:

“Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other” (Bible Dictionary, “Prayer,” 752–53). Humble, earnest, and persistent prayer enables us to recognize and align ourselves with the will of our Heavenly Father. And in this the Savior provided the perfect example as He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, “saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. … And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly” (Luke 22:42, 44).
The object of our prayers should not be to present a wish list or a series of requests but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is eager to bestow, according to His will and timing. Every sincere prayer is heard and answered by our Heavenly Father, but the answers we receive may not be what we expect or come to us when we want or in the way we anticipate.
Prayer is a privilege and the soul’s sincere desire. We can move beyond routine and “checklist” prayers and engage in meaningful prayer as we appropriately ask in faith and act, as we patiently persevere through the trial of our faith, and as we humbly acknowledge and accept “not my will, but Thine, be done.”

I think of the pain the Savior was in as he knelt to plead for strength to endure the trials of the world - MY TRIALS. How then can I think only of myself as I pray each night? In my day to day life, how can I not show the love that the Savior would have me show and then expect to be able to get more out of my prayers, to feel more, find more answers? The answer is that I can't. (duh.) And so I am trying to be better. Like I said, it is a work in progress, but in the end, as long as I am doing my best, He will know and make up for what I can't do.

A giggle to start your morning

2010-03-06T10:09:00.000-06:00

I typed this up for a friend so that she could use it for another blog that she writes, but I wanted to share it with you too. Last weekend, I went on the worst date ever...

I had been out with The Divorcee three times before the worst date ever. He seemed like a good guy, but I wasn’t really sure about him. Little did I know that THIS date was going to decide it all for me.

The night started out pretty standard. We were supposed to make dinner at his parent’s house where he lives. I showed up at his house but he hadn’t bought the ingredients so we had to head to the store. I found that a little odd since he knew for a week that we were going to be making dinner and he even told me what we were having, so he should have already had the ingredients...right?

TD is one of those guys that not only opens the door for you to get in but also he expects you to WAIT for him to walk around the car to open the door for you to get out. I don’t find this chivalrous, just awkward. When we got to the store, I obediently waited for him to open the door. Then he said, 'I have trained you well!' and grabbed my hand to hold as we walked in. Now I find things like this so terribly uncomfortable because the first hand hold should always be something that you both agree to...I obviously didn't agree to that, but I had no choice.

We made it back to the house where we proceeded to make dinner together and then eat it. The conversation was pretty standard, with a few uncomfortable lulls, until TD started talking about his divorce…again. Every time we have been out he had somehow managed to talk about his ex-wife. On our second date he told me the WHOLE story. This time he used it as an opportunity to tell me how different I am from her and how I’m just what he’s looking for. TD also used the word individual at least 20 times during that conversation referring either to me or other girls he wanted to date. I stopped counting after 20.

When we got done with dinner, he happily exclaimed, “I thought we would face paint tonight!” I laughed nervously, thinking “I can handle a little paint on my cheek.” Then he showed me a Website he had looked up with FULL FACE PAINTING DESIGNS. I asked him why we couldn’t just do small things but TD didn’t think it would be “as fun.” I reluctantly let him paint my face, my ENTIRE face and had my eyes closed per TD’s request. When I attempted to open my eyes after a half hour of having my face painted, I could hardly get them open. They were painted shut, definitely a first for me. I now know how a window pane feels like. After great effort I managed to peel my eyelids apart and I saw his great master piece…Darth Maul from Star Wars.

TD thought it was awesome. I wanted to scream. I quickly painted his face to look like a Maori Warrior because I thought it would be quick and easy and then we proceeded to wash our faces. For him, not that big of a deal. For me, it was. I am not a high maintenance type of girl, but when I am forced to take off all of my make up in the middle of a date I get a little upset.

Just so you know how excited I was...

As we got settled in for a movie (unfortunately the date wasn’t over yet), TD put his arm around me. By this time I was sure that I was never going to go out with him again but couldn’t think of an inoffensive way to get out of his arm so I just let it happen. Through the first 20 minutes of the movie, he kept asking me questions by turning his head so that his lips were on my cheek as he talked. I am sure he was expecting me to turn my head, but I just stared straight ahead and answered his questions with as few words as possible. When that didn’t work, he started playing with my hair. Still no response. As a last ditch effort, TD started touching my eyebrows. I asked what he was doing and his first response was, I think you still have paint on your face.” When he continued and I asked again, he responded, “I like eyebrows!”

TD continued to touch my eyebrows then started to run his fingertips all over my face, on my eyelids, up through my hair…which was quite inconvenient since I was trying to watch a movie with his fingers in my eyeballs. About 40 mintues into the movie, I couldn't take it anymore. I proclaimed my tiredness and said I had to leave. As he walked me out he thanked me for “such a fun evening.”

A few days later he posted a picture he had taken of my face after he painted it on my Facebook page, declaring that “next time we should stick to small face painting.” Sorry buddy, there won’t BE a next time!

Jesus didn't have a refrigerator

2010-02-22T18:36:00.000-06:00

Ever since returning from the mission, I have searched for those missionary moments in my life. I always said while in the field that I would be one of those members that is always inviting the missionaries over, that I would talk about the gospel with everyone, always have pass-along cards in my back pocket and that every friend I made that wasn't a member would hear the discussions... Apparently, while on a mission, I completely lost touch with reality. You can't just talk about the gospel with everyone, expect every one to listen... can you?

This summer I made a good friend named Andrew. He was working in Alaska for the summer and was just as sarcastic as I was. We made for a hilarious pair, and if you didn't know us, you'd think we hated each other. (Note, he answers my phone calls with some sort of derogatory comment, 'Hey jerk' or 'What up loser') We went hiking one night in July and of course our conversation turned to religion. I was pretty excited because since living in Utah, I haven't had the opportunity to have many missionary experiences. I invited him to church, he accepted. We went to church, the missionaries jumped all over him, and like the ex marine that he is, told them to give him their number and when he wanted to talk, he'd call them. Gotta love it.

Andrew is the one with the hat

Every since then we have joked about him getting baptized so we could get married. He calls me about once every two weeks and we catch up on life and what is going on. Since Alaska, he has moved back to D.C. and got a job with the military which has something to do with weapons. (I should know exactly what it is...he has told me thousands of times, but I always just say, 'Ya ya you are selling guns and weapons of mass distruction to Iran, I get it.) Every now and again we will start talking about WHY we couldn't get married or WHY things wouldn't work out with us. He always poses situations and all other sorts of questions to try and trip me up or just tease me. A few days ago we had a pretty amazing conversation.

It started out pretty normal, teasing me about how Jesus drank wine and that it couldn't be grape juice because they had no way to keep it from fermenting. But then it turned to situations like, what if we got married in the temple and then I just go back to being baptist, or why don't we just get sealed after I die. (I realize while typing these that he and it sounds like we are super serious, it really is all in jest, we have never even so much as held hands) This line of questioning led me to basically teach the first two missionary lessons to him over the phone. I didn't say anything all that amazing. We have talked about prophets before, we have talked about baptism before. I told him about the plan of salvation, how this life is a trial, and how part of it was us choosing to do the right things. I explained that Christ had always sent prophets, I talked about priesthood authority...it was a good conversation.

At the very end, I knew I wanted to just bare testimony, but I also knew that spewing on for another 10 minutes would be too much, so I simply said, 'Andrew, I want you to know that I know this is true. Not because I saw an angel or anything amazing like that. I have prayed about it and I continue to pray about it and every time, I feel like it is right.' He thanked me, said he had a lot to think about and that next time he would let the mormons in when they knocked on his door. But he made sure to finish by letting me know that Jesus didn't have a refrigerator.

Reasons why I love my family

2010-02-17T17:57:00.000-06:00

Me: Hey so and so is getting married!
Joree: To a girl?
Me: Ha ha yes he is getting married to a girl
Joree: Oh good...

Jamie commenting on this picture on Facebook:

Jamie Fairbanks

There goes Jody, tryin to fix her computer with a knife! Silly Jody that never works!

This one was good too

Jamie Fairbanks

This is our "special friend" we call him Steve!

about an hour ago · Report

Jody Mac

Hahahaha, Jamie I was going to tag him, but now I can't! I was making fun of him cuz he can't cut in a straight line.

Just a friendly reminder

2010-02-17T00:01:00.000-06:00

I was in class today and they read a really awesome quote that I loved enough to write down. ( A pretty rare thing for me now a days...the words SENIORITIS is an understatement in my life right now) We went and did visits this evening with the Relief Society Presidency. I thought to add the quote to a note that I was writing to a sister. (We write notes to everyone we visit just letting them know we love them) She text me and told me she was having some family troubles and that she needed that quote more than I could have ever realized. I love moments like that.

When troubles come along–illnesses, money troubles, new kinds of temptation–he (man) is disappointed. These things, he feels, might have been necessary to rouse him and make him repent in his bad old days; but why now? Because God is forcing him on, or up, to a higher level: putting him into situations where he will have to be very much braver, or more patient, or more loving, than he ever dreamed of being before. It seems to us all unnecessary: but that is because we have not yet had the slightest notion of the tremendous thing he means to make of us. -C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Not a word about love

2010-02-14T21:02:00.000-06:00

I get a little scared sometimes when I think about the future. Talking to my mom tonight, she asked me what I was going to do after I graduate in December. My answer? 'I don't know mom, I try not to think about it yet because its a long way off and it scares me to think about.' That might be a bad attitude, but it is the one I am choosing to have because it helps me not despair because I am not exactly where I thought I would be at 26.

I went to the Oquirrh Mountain temple on Friday with my best friend Hillary. It was GORGEOUS! I absolutely loved (oops did I just say that?) it. She and I sat in the celestial room whispering about thoughts and things that had been troubling us about where we are and where we want to be. It was good to talk to her, and it was good to be in the celestial room when we did it because it felt like we were able to speak freely about goals and thoughts and worries.

As we were sitting there, a talk popped into my head that I heard a few years back. I remember it well because at the time, I really needed to hear it, and as I remembered it I realized that I really needed to hear it again. It is a talk from October 2007 conference by Spencer J. Codie entitled Claim the Exceeding Great and Precious Promises. In the talk, Elder Condie talked about the promises that we have been afforded here in this life, and the struggles of seeing them from afar and feeling that they are never going to come. He uses the analogy of the story of Rachel, a beloved daughter of God, who's greatest desire was only to serve her husband Jacob in giving him children. How she must have felt seeing her sister and everyone around her baring children and by no fault of her own not being able to have that experience. At one point, Rachel goes to her husband and tells him, 'Give me children, or else I die.'Elder Condie ends his talk with one of the most powerful statements I have heard in a very long time.

But with the passage of time, we encounter four of the most beautiful words in holy writ: “And God remembered Rachel” (Genesis 30:22). And she was blessed with the birth of Joseph and later the birth of Benjamin. There are millions on earth today who are descendants of Joseph who have embraced the Abrahamic promise that through their efforts “shall all the families of the earth be blessed, even with the blessings of the Gospel, which are the blessings of salvation, even of life eternal” (Abraham 2:11). When heaven’s promises sometimes seem afar off, I pray that each of us will embrace these exceeding great and precious promises and never let go. And just as God remembered Rachel, God will remember you. I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

So when my mom asks me who I'm going to date when I move back home after graduation, or when someone asks me where I am going to teach after I graduate, I refuse to worry about it, because I have faith, and I know that eventually, God will remember Jody.

Is it me??

2010-02-11T23:12:00.000-06:00

Or is Zumba not the work out that everyone claims it is?? I went tonight, more than anything just to have break from running every night, and though it was fun, it was not that great of a work out. I mean, I sweat, but not like I sweat when I am killing myself on a tredmill. Am I missing something? Are my hips not fly like J Lo? Do I drop it like its hot? Or...am I just SO in shape now with all the running that an hour long dance party doesn't wind me. The answer to all of these is YES... (Except my hips really are fly like J Los...actually they are flier, cuz I'm white and dancing isn't inherent.)

I am getting more excited about this half marathon in April. Every time I tell people about it, they give me one of two responses. Response 1) Wow! I could never do that, you are awesome! (I am not awesome, the only reason I finished my first half was because my dad was there with me to make sure I finished it. Don't believe me? Readmy half marathon post here .) Response 2) You are an idiot. Who would ever subject themselves to such torture?

Well, the answer to that is that I subject myself to such torture. I don't know if I have ever said this, but I absolutely love the feeling I get after running. I hate everything about running except that feeling. While I am running, I constantly wonder why it was I decided to go and try to convince myself I should stop and turn around, but when I get home after running, I love how I feel. I heard a high council speaker once talk about how our bodies are the figurative cars in life, and that our spirits are the drivers. He then talked about how we should never let our cars determine where our drivers were going to go, that is not our roles. We have to let our spirits BE the drivers. This is how I feel about running. I run, and I run hard because my SPIRIT is going to drive my BODY. Not the other way around. Its the whole mind over matter thing.

But more than that, I feel like as I begin to master this mortal body, I feel closer to God. I know, that sounds ridiculous, but it is true. As I learn to control myself, my habits, my actions, I feel like the natural man melts away, a little at a time. It is said that Heavenly Father knows who we need to become and what we need to go through to get there. Well, I feel like that is why He has inspired me to run. So I run. As much as I hate it I run because I know that spiritually, physically, emotionally, it is making me who I need to be, and I WANT to be who God wants me to be. Does that make sense?

My phone has a cruel sense of humor

2010-02-09T17:56:00.000-06:00

So...I put people on my speed dial. They are important. I call them a lot. I like being able to hold down a button and boom they are there! It is easier than memorizing their number, or scrolling through my address book and finding them... especially if I can't remember how I spelled their name when I put it into my phone. The joys of modern technology are so wonderful. I have a phone that I can carry with me ANYWHERE! I can call anyone I want, anywhere I want, at any time. I went to Canada, and my phone worked there! AMAZING!

Of course, that is, until my phone decides to randomly pocket dial people...More specifically call ex-boyfriends who I just haven't gotten around to taking off of my speed dial.

Today as I was talking to my best friend about her adventures in Peru, my cheek somehow called 'The Cowboy'...twice. Its not that big of a deal because we are still friends after our one month stint as an official couple, except for the fact that he made a point to tell me last night that most girls like the summer time 'Cowboy' and invited me to go hiking and camping with him as soon as it was warm enough. (We broke up because I couldn't spend another weekend on his couch watching sports). He called me back and asked what was up...I informed him of my cheek's desire to call him, we had a wonderful awkward conversation.

The Friday before my birthday, a few friends and I got together, dressed up in 80's garb, and went roller skating. Yeah, I know, we are cool. On the way there, we were getting into the 80s mood and so I put on my favorite song from my blessed childhood, 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' by Whitney Houston. Picture this: 5 20 something girls in a car, dressed up, headed to go roller skating. Needless to say we were singing the song at the top of our lungs. I got out of the car...only to realize that as we were driving my phone had dialed Steven, my ex from this summer who dumped me because I wanted to help him find his testimony, and he was more comfortable dating his ex-girlfriend who would let him be whoever. I got a text from him asking me if I meant to leave a song on his machine...I didn't.

It happened again as I left class last week and again on Sunday. I took him off my speed dial.

A scripture a day

2010-02-09T12:16:00.000-06:00

In a ward conference a few years ago we met together as a Relief Society for the first meeting. (In those days, our ward went backwards, starting with priesthood and R.S. and then Sunday School, and THEN sacrament meeting) I was having a rough time, I had been home from my mission just a little over a year and was struggling to find my way in 'life after the mission'. In this tough time, our Stake Relief Society Presidency counseled us to have a 'scripture of the day'. We were told to put it on a note card and carry it with us throughout the day. On one side was the scripture and on the other side was our application for the day. In a tough time in my life, this helped me to remember what I was wanting to accomplish that day. The first scripture I chose was the famous Joshua scripture, 'Be thou strong and of good courage...'

Why do you care to know about this? Well you probably don't, but I was going through my journal and I got into the habit at that time to tape the scripture of the day card into my journal so that I could remember what was going on each day. I think it is a good habit that I want to get back into. I had a few interesting experiences this weekend that reminded me of how easy it is to fall back into old habits if we are not constantly trying to be better.

Oh AWKWARD

2010-01-29T01:46:00.000-06:00

I am sitting here eating left over birthday cake and I just had to share a few absolutely random experiences I have had in the last 24 hours.

Scenario #1
I went to my Floral Design lab yesterday. The class it awesome. Don't judge me. One of the T.A.s was talking to one of three guys in the class and the following conversation ensued:

T.A.: I should set you up with my sister.
Guy: Does she like vegetables?

REALLY?? I feel like someone should teach him how to date. Because the first question should have been something about personality or attractiveness. Not eating habits.

Scenario #2
I am in a Country Dance class on Thursday nights. The class is fun. Don't judge me. My friend Lisa and her boyfriend are also in said class. I was eating a cookie and had crumbs on my face. Lisa brushed them off. The following conversation ensued:

Lisa: You got a little somethin right there.
Clauson (Lisa's boyfriend): Yeah she does that to me all the time.
Me: Lisa rubs her hands all over your face all the time
Lisa: Oh yeah.
Me: I can only imagine. 'Here honey, let me rub my hands all over you.'
Random Boy: Wow, I came in that conversation at a weird point. It sounds interesting though. We didn't get to dance together today, but I'm free Saturday night if you want to rub your hands all over me.

Yup. He said that. Almost word for word.

Scenario #3
A friend of mine invited me over to have waffles at his place. I went and chatted it up with a guy I had met at my birthday fiesta on Monday. The guy was cute, we talked for quite a while. As he was leaving, this happened.

Cute guy: It was nice seeing you again, we should definitely hang out more.
Me: Yeah for sure!
Cute guy: (stares at my phone for a few seconds as if he was deciding to ask for my number but doesn't and then leaves the room. He goes upstairs, comes back down, awkwardly looks at me again, and then leaves.)

Mormon boys...learn to ask for girls numbers. Le f'real.