The New Kid at Church

There are some moments you never forget, no matter how old you get. For me, one of those moments was when I was the "new kid" in the middle of first grade. I would only have to do this once as we didn't move much growing up and I would be in the same school system all throughout adolescence and teenage years until I graduated from high school. Yet I still remember vividly the first day of first grade in the new school.

Mrs. Mollenkoff's classroom had a growing chain of ice cream hanging on the wall (fake of course) which represented the different books each student read and reported. If our ice cream chain grew big enough, we would have an ice cream party to celebrate our class success. That was way cool and not something we had in the old school. In the corner, away from the desks we sat on, were different wood shapes which we would take turns figuring out how to put into the cut out of the same shapes. And then in another corner, there was a carpet where we would sit as Mrs. Mollenkoff read books aloud to us.

Things were slower in this new public school but still fun. The private school I had just left was already teaching us cursive and multiplication but here, we were just practicing our names in normal print, working on addition, and figuring out shapes so I was excited to be ahead of the pack without really being better, just luckier that I had already learned this stuff. My reading was a bit stronger than some of the other kids but my grammar was still plain awful. I liked to say, "that's funner" and didn't really get English tenses of past and present as our home spoke primarily Chinese and the only English I got were from the bit of cartoons I was allowed to watch only beginning Friday night through Sunday night. I could get use to this place... if only I were able to make some friends.

Once I was introduced as the "new kid," the whole class knew me by name and a bit of my background yet I still knew nothing about any of them. If people talked to me, I would open up a bit, but ultimately, I was and am still an initially shy girl. Once you actually get me to open up, I am super outgoing but I just am uncomfortable with the initial opening conversation which has stemmed from that time I was the "new kid" in first grade. I did manage to make some friends, but they were not the nicest and looking back, they traumatized me a bit and it wasn't until third grade that I made real friends. I attribute most of that to the process of adapting that took a while.

Most recently, I have again, had to be the "new kid," only this time it was at our new Family ward (we graduated from the Singles ward after getting married). In our Church, we have different "wards" or groups divided demographically by where we live and sometimes by a common language (for example there is a Chinese ward a couple blocks from my parents house) and the only time you do not belong to a Family ward is from the ages of 18-31 when you are single. At this time, you are encouraged by priesthood leaders, to attend the Singles ward, where you are more able to make friends your age and hopefully, an eternal companion. I was lucky and a success story of the Singles ward since that is precisely where I met my husband!

Lucky for me, our Church also has established what's known as "visiting" and "home" teaching which means, each sister is paired up with a companion and visit other sisters. So I get visited and I go visiting. Home teaching is when the priesthood men go to teach a family and we likewise, have home teachers who visit us. It's a great way for us to meet more people within the new ward, outside of our Church meetings, and a chance for all of us to help support the Bishopric by helping to watch over each other.

With our August visits, I have come to realize, I was initially very uncomfortable about going to the new ward. As I share with each sister or family (I went with Andy on a couple visits since his companion was hard to locate), I have felt the need to share how hard it was to adjust when first coming to the new ward. I was sad to have left the old ward where I made many great friends and memories and had become accustomed to the teaching styles of the Sunday school and other meetings. But I do not go to Church simply because of the people and I know my testimony in the gospel of Jesus Christ means that I know we have a living prophet who continues to organize our Church. This means, wherever I go, the Bishop, is called of by God. That translates to meaning, it won't matter where I go. It might be hard to make friends at first, the teaching manuals are the same, the lessons are the same (taught by different instructors), the Sacrament is passed the same, the prayers are all in the name of Jesus Christ and the Spirit is still there.

I'm so grateful that I belong to a Church where I don't have to "go shopping" for a new Church if I move. I know a lot of my other denominational Christian friends do this everytime they move and a factor in not moving is actually the Church they belong to. I know that's not the case for us because wherever we go, there is a Stake (a group of wards) nearby and most likely, a Church building. And, if you're unsure of where, you can go to lds.org, click on Find a meetinghouse, type in your zip code or address and locate all the wards nearby. I'm so thankful for this and it makes being the new kid at Church, just that much easier.

In With the New, Out With the Old?

I'm now a writer on OUR family blog ... but I haven't decided what that means for my own blog... keep.... have two? .... combine? consolidate? .....

Until then - read my latest post on his.. correction, OUR blog.
http://phillipspost.blogspot.com/

We Graduated from the Singles Ward!

Today was Andy and my last time at Glendale 7th YSA (young-single adults) ward and coincidentally, my one year anniversary since being baptized.

Being baptized was the best decision of my life. Marrying Andy will be the next best decision. But how often do we make bad decisions and then mope about 'em for way too long?

I have been moping about my marshmallow smore seat placecards. It was a bad decision, but I think I need to build a bridge and get over it because I am 5 days away, about 150 smore seat placecards to go and attitude makes a big difference. So going forward, I am going to excitedly glue 150 marshmallows to two pieces of tan foam board with an extra piece of brown foam cut into the shape of a heart - and don't forget two googly eyes!

Though I have a lot to do before the wedding, I'm feeling good about everything outstanding... and really excited for the big day. A bit scared that I won't have any clothes to pack for Hawaii since most of my stuff has already been moved into our future apartment, but overall grinning ear to ear at the prospect of all time and eternity with my best friend. It's not going to be easy, but we'll have great attitudes about it!

2 days until I'm done working
4 days until I go through the Temple
5 days until I'm married
6 days until Hawaii

A Glimpse Into My Oh So Mormon Life

Due to Stake Conference next weekend, we had our fast and testimonial Sunday today and our Break the Fast theme was "That's So Mormon."

I didn't grow up in the Church so naturally, half the typical food items and cultural aspects of being Mormon are still quite foreign to me. I can pick up on most - but with food, it's definitely a learning experience which made me ponder.. am I really that Mormon... culturally that is? For example, I learned tapioca in marshmallow and mixed fruit is "frog eyes" and both that and jello are not desserts, but side dishes.

I recently also learned what a Hawaiian Haystack is from a lovely reception of our friends who got married last week. I was stuffed to the brim from all the Hawaiian (coincidence?) food served at my bridal shower earlier that day so I had to take the word of those I love and know well who consumed it and exclaimed, it's awesome! For those of you who aren't familiar with it, it's a combination of rice, gravy, fruits, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, guacamole and sour cream and wa-la - Hawaiian Haystack.

As part of the wedding planning process, I have also been able to learn much more of LDS culture. For example, including a photo with an invite - completely Mormon. Another Mormon thing? Bridals! Yes yes... I know there are many non-LDS brides who also take 'em but in general, they are definitely the minority and when I talked with a lot of my non-member friends about it, it was definitely a new concept to them. As is the timing of sending out invites - non-members traditionally send invites out 3 months prior but LDS culture is closer to a month within the wedding.

It seems there is always definitely more to learn about cultural LDS stuff and with each passing day, I am finding that out.

I suppose it's the same with the Gospel. There's always something to learn and even when you think you've got it all down, there's more. Some of the learning can be instructed (someone can tell me what a funeral potato looks like, the ingredients and directions to make it, or I can try to learn by example, watching someone else cook 'em, ask questions, etc. ) It always surprises me that we go to Church each week, talk about the same scripture stories and the same principles and doctrines, yet feel differently about it every time. The Spirit knows how to teach you something new with each relearned concept and the application to our own lives is varying as we grow and learn. Challenges are thrown are way that cause us to apply each principle again and again, yet it feels different and in the end, we look back and realize - look how much we've grown.

I've been reading the scriptures for more than a year now and I still have not gone through all of the Old and New Testament, but despite having gone through the rest of the scriptures, I still would not be able to summarize all the stories within the Book of Mormon. I feel inadequate most of the time compared to those armed with so much more depth of each biblical story, but I hope with time, I will just continue reading and learning, and never lose sight of the learning that will happen with each passing day. I must be patient and diligent and put my shoulder to the wheel when it comes to studying everyday and ensuring my studying is progressing.

In the Church, there is so much emphasis on spiritual growth and spiritual stagnation is the same as falling backwards. I think of my own growth in learning about the scriptures and the culture and I know I want to continue forward, not backward which means not standing still. And then, when I take a glimpse into my oh so Mormon life, I will smile and know I have made an effort and seen the fruits of my efforts.

The Substitute That Brought a Smile to My Face

Growing up.. in our home, all bad words starting with B, D, F and S were unimaginable. Our parents didn't use them and if we dared even say, "shut up" or "stupid," we were reprimanded and punished. My brother and I tried our luck with the word "shut up" a lot and upon doing so, would always quickly follow up with an apology. We knew it wasn't something we could say in front of our mom. End of story.

Why this didn't continue once I was out of the house is beyond me. It makes me sad that I let such words permeate into my daily vocabulary, even if it was only when things went really really bad.

This past summer, I criticized Quinn and Andy about their incessant use of the word "freak." I know it's not a bad word.. but it's what I'd call a substitute for a bad word. That's "freaking" awesome. What the "freak." Can you "freaking" believe it? My beef with the word "freak" was the fact that it was a substitute for a shorter F word that wasn't so proper. You could say the same about words like "shiz" or "gosh" (which I do proudly avoid) but instead, I do admit to using words like "crap" and oh my "goodness." There are also words like "geez" or "heck" but all of the aforementioned qualify as "substitutes." Most substitute words are one or two letters away from their manipulative stepsister. So why even use a substitute word? Why not avoid the substitute words all together?!?!

The first time I felt this way was when my senior high school said anyone who uses the F word is just not intelligent enough to express it with other words. I remember pondering about her comment and thinking, that's hard.. .but she may have a point.

Needless to say, it's been refreshing to once again, be cleansed of such biting words and return to days similar to my youth when I knowingly avoided the use of such words. In fact, these days... when I use words like "crap" or "heck," I feel guilty. As if... I have just succumbed, to my weakness of word usage and am admitting defeat in my word battle for honor. Vernacular prowess is not my specialty which makes it no surprise that one of my repetitive prayers is asking for my thoughts, actions and words to be kept pure. I have always felt that thoughts are the hardest... actions are a bit easier... and words should be easiest. And words, for the most part ... are!

These days, you can find me struggling with when things go wrong unexpectedly. Like when I stub my toe, get a papercut or jam my finger, and oh, did I forget-get cut off on the highway. This is when... the habits of my past word usage days sneak up on me. I've gotten better... to the point where no verbal obscenities are vocalized.. but now... the thoughts have become the hard part. I might not say something inappropriate when I get cut off by a mean car.. but inside, my brain thinks the word! The bad word! ACK! DOH! (yes, somehow ack and doh are okay.. maybe because they seem cartoonisque and remind me of Homer Simpson and donuts)

... which leads me to the thought of the day... the substitute that brought a smile to my face.

You see... even though I loathe substitute words... today was different.

Upon entering the 10 freeway, a car abruptly merged and ALMOST, kid you not, slammed into me. The first thing I thought was "what are you freaking doing?" and outloud, I said "freaking eh car!".... pause.

Silence. ....

And slowly.. a small chuckle emerged.

And then I started smiling! Yes - it was a substitute... but it was so instantaneous that I knew, a year ago... instead of a "freaking" thought, my thoughts may have been more ill laced.

And that... brought a smile to my face.

It is true. Things seem hard, but you work at it... and they become easier. And then, when it still seems impossible, you pray about it and ask for strength, and you keep working at it... and eventually, it really does become easier. Maybe it's because of the persistent nature of keeping at it... maybe it's the help of Heavenly Father... maybe it's both. Regardless, I am so grateful for the experience and though I'm still working on avoiding substitute words all together, I'm so happy for this small moment of a substitute word in my life.

Just Another LA Asian Girl?

Most people know that I grew up in a predominantly Asian suburb within Los Angeles County, that I then went to college in a small town just 20 miles east of where I grew up, and that I began working immediately after graduating in LA. That mere synopsis is enough to convince everyone that I'm indeed a LA Asian gal. Why else would I not have left?

Upon taking time to get to know me, the intricacies that outline my life and the parental restrictions placed upon me while growing up come to surface and that perspective often changes.

First, I am proud of the fact that I was born in St. Louis, Missouri. So proud that in fifth grade, while everyone was fighting about who go to do their state project on Hawaii, California or Texas, my selection of Missouri immediately stood finalized since I was the only one. So proud that the miniature St. Louis arch was among one of my prized possessions growing up and I often went to admire it and ask my dad about the time he took me up in the elevator of it when I was a kid. So proud that when I saw a trucker hat that said Missouri, Show Me Yours (because it's the "show me" state), it became part of my weekend gear to represent my birthplace. So proud that when I saw an ugly orange t-shirt that said Missouri Loves Company with a picture of the state and its neighboring states next to it, I exclaimed I want that shirt! ...and subsequently my brother bought it for me as a surprise (but it was too small so I haven't worn it yet) which made me squeal with delight upon receipt. So proud that when the NCAA March Madness final game was in St. Louis, I boasted of that being my birthplace at which point, I heard - that sucks, it's the crap hole of the US. Hmmmm.......

Second, I never had the option of leaving California. As all my friends surveyed all the colleges and universities they would apply to, I was instructed not to apply to any out of state schools by mummy dearest. At the time, I didn't understand and vowed with all my might, to apply no matter what she said. And then I realized there was a hefty application fee and since I was also not allowed to work (even though at 15 I could easily obtain a working permit), it did not seem doable with all my extracurricular activity demands. Years later, I would come to realize this simple restriction was to prevent me from applying to the same school as my high school boyfriend who was one year older, and from using work as an excuse to interact with the rebellious kids all hanging out at the mall and meeting older college guys who preyed on the high school girls working the booths in the center aisles of the mall. That all makes sense now but at the time, it just felt like my parents were clipping my wings and preventing me from flying which meant I would never soar since I could never even fly. Then, when college ended, and my grades bleakly stared back at me, hauntingly indicative that I would not be able to obtain a reputable job, I tried using my vivacious personality to get my foot in the door. Miraculously, it worked, but asking for a starting position anywhere outside of Los Angeles seemed stupid since my connections had been made here. So stay I did.

I didn't actually discover LA until I moved there two and a half years ago and actually lived in LA, LA. I say that because Arcadia is not LA. Arcadia is a suburb, a community of homes, full of peacocks by the Arboretum, a beloved racetrack where we graduated high school and the Santa Anita Fashion Park, which despite the changes over the years, still feels like the same mall as it did in 1992. And then there is LA which is ... well... odd. Busy. Different. Judgmental. (or so it feels...) Similar to how it's portrayed on television - LA is the place where people come from afar to try to make it as a star, materialistic to the nth degree and not somewhere my kids will ever grow up! As I think about it more, the more urgent getting out of LA seems to be. The traffic is horrible, the housing prices are ridiculous and the smog is gross. Here, obsessions over worldly matters of prestige, materialism, success, wealth and fun collide with good ol'd traditional values of honor, loyalty, faith, integrity, chastity, and kindness. And so with that said, it's easy to declare "I hate LA!" without any remorse and feel justified by such a statement.

I was reminded of how detrimental such a resentment can be when my BFF, who went to Berkeley for school and then moved to San Fran where she began working and has been ever since, was staffed in LA for a project. She began complaining to me about how rude everyone in LA was, how despicable the traffic was and how much she missed SF for its public transportation and easy going people- basically everything opposite of what made LA such an awful place to live. Attacked by my own BFF, I strongly felt the urge to defend my city. I explained that traffic wasn't that bad if you knew when to navigate where, that the people she encountered was a one time occurrence and NY people were worse, and that LA was awesome for other reasons. I reminded her of the beautiful sunny weather, the nearby beach, and the cheap and diverse but authentic food options. She slowly softened and agreed there was truth in my rebuttal but stubbornly stuck to the fact that the ugly traffic still outweighed the beauty the city had to offer. I sighed and let her be.

Six months later, as she came to an end of her project in LA, she told me how much she was going to miss LA. She raved about the food, the weather, the proximity of her family, and told me... I think I'm done with SF and ready to come back to LA for a bit. She was done with SF and I was ecstatic at the idea of her moving back! And then... as fate would have it, I ended up in San Jose for a special project of my own, and I too fell in love with SF, at the lack of traffic, the kind people, and slowly, I too welcomed the slightly colder weather, fell in love with places I discovered to eat at, and started to forget that my family was not with me.

So... it got me thinking.. this mentality I had is not good and what have I learned? And this is what I came up with....

1) The grass is always greener on the other side.. so don't take for granted what you have or always wonder about what you don't have.

2) We human individuals adapt well... maybe not immediately, but eventually so persevere and be patient.

3) Avoid negative complaining and strive for positive thoughts of remembering what you are blessed with.

Be that of good cheer.

I may be just another LA Asian girl for now.. but that doesn't mean it won't change some day later and if it does, I will cope and adjust. LA is part of me... but there is always room for more.

My First Conference Ever

April 2, 2009 9:19 AM
Hi Lindsay,

Long time no talk! I hope all is well and you are still dancing and having a good time at PwC. So this may sound out of the blue and weird .. but I am actually "investigating" the LDS Church and thought of you. I'm actually in San Jose right now - and this is where my journey began as I'm on a mini-tour here with the L&E group rewriting curriculum to incorporate Aura... but I return to LA tomorrow and was just curious if you were active in the Church and if so, if you might be able to help me answer some questions as I continue my journey. It sounds weird, I didn't expect it but apparently God just knew and found a way to reach me. Have a great Thursday and hope to talk to you soon!

Best,
Daisy

April 2, 2009 9: 54 AM
Daisy,

It's so great to hear from you! I think about you often and how absolutely horrible I am at keeping touch, so I'm glad you reached out to me. That's exciting that you're looking into things with the church. I can't wait to hear about your experiences and what stage of the process you're at!!

I'm still very active in the church and would be more than happy to answer any questions you have. I also go to the church on Sawtelle every Sunday afternoon if you want to join me. If you're not at that point yet, it's totally fine...no pressure. Let's get together once you get back, though. What does your week look like next week?

Best regards,
Lindsay

April 2, 2009, 10:40 AM
Hi Lindsay!

I feel the same - so no worries. Yay! Let's definitely get together next week! I'm working from home with the exception of Thursday - should be in the office, so I'm pretty flexible, let me know where you'll be! Mark Gardner (not sure if you know him) actually reached out to Megan Kakadelas for me and she's offered to take me to the YSA Ward in Santa Monica - which I am assuming is the same Church you go to at 2:15? I'm watching the conference from home this weekend and going with Mark's family to the Sherman Oaks Family Ward on Easter Sunday but have set to go with Megan the weekend after.

Let me know if you're free for dinner next week and we can talk more and I can ask you more questions! I'm really sad to be leaving San Jose because this is where I've been having all my discussions with friends and missionaries (had 3 lessons so far) but so far, I've only been to the Sacrament part of Church so I'm looking forward to checking out the Sunday School and Relief Society. In the meantime, I'm just praying a lot and realizing how genuinely happy I have been lately cuz of this weird feeling which has been explained to me as the Holy Ghost... hehe. It's all very new and still a little weird for me, but I can't deny it and I'm praying to know more truth and to have my own testimony to the Book of Mormon (which I've been reading but it's hard - that language!). Have a great Thursday!

Best,
Daisy

April 2, 2009 12:43 PM
So awesome!! It sounds like Mark has gotten you very well connected! If you're planning on watching conference this weekend, a handful of us are going up to this super-dope house in Calabasas on Saturday to hang out and watch it. Basically, one of my friends from Merrill Lynch's boss asked him to housesit for the week and actually encourages house parties. It's supposed to be an awesome house, so a few of us are just planning on spending the day up there...watch conference, bbq, swim, watch conference, etc. You should totally come!!

As for next week, I'm totally free anyday. Should we say Thursday if you're going to be in the office anyway and we can meet up somewhere? Can't wait!

Looking back at this e-mail chain is funny - because the unspoken reason I reached out to her was hoping for a companion to watch Conference with even though it didn't come up until later.

What's Conference? As in investigator, it was explained to me as the only time twice a year when Mormons don't go to Church and instead stay home or go watch it live - both Saturday and Sunday. Wow, these Mormons are hard core. Upon watching both sessions of the Conference while I was investigating, I learned it was basically different people talking to the Church members with a few songs here and there - sung by a huge choir or with a karaoke type sing along for us at home to sing with. As I listened, I realized despite some of the Church talk (apostasy, dispensation, atonement, provident living), most of the talk was just real. It was advice anyone could and should follow. As I further investigated, I learned that the ones giving the talks were the prophet or President of the Church (currently Thomas S. Monson), other apostles (there are 12 plus the President/Prophet's first and second counselors) and a bunch more (general authorities from the First and Second Quorum of the Seventy, Area Seventies or Area Authorities Seventy - bleh... it's all uber confusing still so forgive me if I'm wrong!) and that all the talks given were based on the needs of the members inspired by revelation from God.

My first Conference experience was amazing and no doubt - Lindsay had a huge part in that. When we talked about it after, she admitted that she didn't want to ask me right away because she was unsure where I was in my investigation. But to that ...I say...hey, we should all take a risk! Sure, we might get rejected and sure we might seem overbearing Mormons way too excited about the gospel, but for those less active, investigating or struggling, there's no loss in asking and getting rejected! Grow some layers of thick skin and worst case scenario, you get rejected (boo-hoo *sarcasm) or looked at weird (awkward turtle) but really... it's no big deal!... especially considering the possibility of even just ONE person who might have really needed it or wanted it .. who just might say, "Oh yeah! Thanks for reminding me!" .... or "I'd love to come with!"

Do it! Pleaseeee do it. If not for me.. then for the daisies with thorns.

And Then I Was Mormon

Look at how happy I look in this photo.













Is it
a) because I am totally taller than Peyton
b) because we are posing with matching cupcakes
c) because I'm hungry and was told I could have a cupcake after the photo
d) because I am now a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints
e) all of the above

and the answer is.... E. Because I am soooo tall. Look, I even took a photo with Andy to show how tall I really am. And what's funny here is .. I look so angry because I am confident I am taller and trying to dog the camera. But the reality is...



Andy must have been tip-toeing.

I show those photos first because I'm just goofy and happy. Always have been, always will be. But there's something else... like some type of new amazing blush. Only it's just the realization that I have made a promise and committment to Him and I now have the gift of the spirit.

It didn't start out that way. Rewind to Saturday.

Anxiety. Fear. Excitement.
Butterflies in my stomach. Adrenaline in my veins.
I was so nervous. I had witnessed a baptism a week earlier where the girl's foot kept popping out of the water. As such, her baptism took 5 dips into the water. Scared that the same thing would happen to me... I praticed bending my knees, stretching my back bend and come the day of the baptism, I put my hair into a tightly kept ballet bun, even going so far as using hairspray.
Like any girl, I wanted a new outfit to celebrate the occassion. Like any girl, I shopped aimlessly for hours and found nothing. Like any girl, I ended up wearing something I already had. Oh well. Can't win 'em all.
6:20 My brother and I leave our home and head for the Church. Was this really happening? I knew a lot of my non-LDS friends were coming to show their support but I was still scared. Am I really getting baptized? Maybe they'd change their mind or flake on me last minute. Was I about to become Mormon? I check my phone as I'm driving. My brother reprimands me for putting his life in danger. "Stop texting!" he yells. Fine. What if they don't come? We get to the church.. I park... we got out of the car...I get my stuff...my parents are already there and chatting it up with a LDS co-worker of my mom's. Can I really do this? We walk to the Church. This is it Daisy.
One observation: the white jumpsuit is not flattering. In fact, I looked like Humpty Dumpty and my friends who showed up early to hang out beforehand had a great time laughing at how ridiculous I looked. It's okay, I'm getting baptized.. I could care less. But I did jump around in the suit for a bit because it was indeed quite funny. Then, like any Asian event, photos were taken.
Here are my friends and family who showed up early enough to come by the baptism room with Elder Cox, the missionary who baptized me.










It was Elder Cox's first time baptizing anyone.. and boy, was he excited. You can tell from the expression noted here.

The actual baptism doesn't start until about halfway into the program. We opened with a hymn that I chose - one that didn't have too many Church specific terminology that might make it hard for my non-Mormon friends and family to follow along with. As we sang, my heart was filled with a tremendous acknowledgment that this was it. As I sat there, listening to the beautiful opening prayer, the powerful talk geared to evoke some inkling in my non-LDS friends and the moving solo .. I was in awe. Again, I had to remind myself that this was happening.



As we walked towards the baptism room... I quickly scanned the crowd and saw so many beautiful faces of friends and strangers - but all looking at me with love. This was happening. This is happening. This happened. Of course, anything that happens in my life cannot be without humor.. and such it came after my successful baptism (only one try baby!) when I realized... a towel did I not bring. Did the missionaries tell me to bring a towel? No! They didn't! The one thing they forgot to tell me to bring! ... Errr...even if they didn't, how could I forget such a thing? So three jumpsuits later ... (only one that I got baptized in), I was dressed and still trembling - a bit from the mildly cold water and a lot from the realization that I was washed of my sins. How simple.. and how beautiful.

Drea, Kenzie, Kate and Kwame...

Lucy and Spencer

Eric, Julia, Annie and Chris...

PwC supports! Kenny, Scott, Megan, Lindsay and Drea!

Sunday morning.. I was confirmed. How lovely is my Heavenly Father that he not only blessed me with the presence of my two non-LDS friends, Kate and Drea, but with Elder Vera - who I first started my lessons with when I first came back to LA. And.. the talks were so eloquent,, meaningful and touching... oh my!

More photos... notice Elder Cox's expression is identical from that noted above when he was getting ready to baptize me! Elder Ridge does not look that excited even though I asked him to confirm me... kill joy huh?!

Missionaries galore...Elder Vera, Elder Ridge and Elder Cox

He just really loves that expression. We'll have to teach him how to smile when he baptizes Sky.

A semi-smile and a Daisy without thorns.. smiling because she is now confirmed.

And no.. I don't know why the spaces are funky.. but I'm too lazy to figure it out right now.

My Mormon Childhood

Apparently... I grew up Mormon. Well, not precisely....but my overbearing, ultra conservative and super-strict mother laid down the law with so many rules, restrictions, traditions and teachings that as I was sitting in our Stake Conference last night, listening to the panel of LDS parents discuss some of the challenges parents are facing today, I was shocked to realize how amazing my own mother did for my brother and me. I know part of that is due to her relationship with Him, despite her being a rather laid-back Catholic, she prays everyday and I am confident Heavenly Father heard her prayers and answered them, blessing her in so many ways amidst the hardships and sacrifices she has made throughout her life as a mother, wife and friend.

When I was growing up, television was forbidden from Monday through Friday 3 pm (yes, conniving and smart, I challenged why I could not watch TV on Friday mornings if the rule ended Friday and the rule was clarified as extending until Friday 3 PM). I'll be the first to admit that my Pops was less strict and while Mum was off at Adult School one time, I was allowed to watch Superman and even caught a glimpse of the Beverly Hills 90210 pilot commercials. Anxious to watch this cool new show that was basically about anything and everything I was unable to comprehend (and righteously so!) as a 10 year old, I set the VCR to record the show at 8 PM (mum would be back by then from class). The perception was I obeyed like a good filial daughter. The reality was I sometimes snuck around and watched TV until she came home. Unfortunately, she was mostly home from after school until sleeping. Hence, my weekdays were mostly television free and my Friday nights became TGIF (no pun intended since ABC had the TGIF line-up!) all night long.

When I was growing up, we ate dinner together at the table, without distractions only known to today's technology filled world, everynight. I don't recall there ever being an exception except when the dance team's practices started going until 10 PM. At that time, the other three members of the family still had dinner together. I did hear the tradition started to falter a bit when I went off to college as cooking for three just didn't seem the same, but at that time, our tradition became family dinner once a week. To this day, my brother and I both feel a void when we have not had family dinner in a while and aim to plan something together, whether it's brunch or dinner, because otherwise .. it just feels awkward. Sometimes the conversation is great, sometimes there is a bit of bickering, sometimes we finish quickly and depart our separate ways, but always it is time well spent and time that is crucial to strenghtening our family bonds. When I see families in restaurants where the kids have earphones on or the parents are reading newspapers, I am shocked and disgusted and want to run over and scream at them. Alas, that is their family and their upbringing, I can only keep the concept in mind for when I raise my own family.

When I was growing up, my parents were part time chauffuers. They carted my group of crazy hoochie momma girlfriends from mall to movies, to home, to movies to mall. Anxious to take our glamour shots, we even sought out farther malls with better backgrounds and ride shifts seemed to always be split between the BFF's mom and my pops. Nobody else's parents seemed to care or have cars. Oblivious to my parents and even me at the time, was how this little act of driving the kids everywhere kept them sane and comforted because they always knew where we were. The days of dialing 1-800-collect and then shouting out "Pick us up Dad" when prompted for your name and then quickly hanging up and awaiting his arrival are gone in today's age of cell phones, but I confidently believe cell phones don't matter since kids rarely pick 'em up anyway (as evidenced by my own brother six years below). My parents also distrusted 16 year olds with licenses and that being said, my parents drove my high school boyfriend and I to Disneyland despite him having a car and despite the group of friends we were going with who all drove and met us there.

When I was growing up, my curfew was 8 PM. It's not that I couldn't hang out with friends after 8 PM, it's that I could not go out after 8 PM. In other words, friends could come hang out at our house until the break of dawn but should I decide to step out of the house ... trouble would I be in. Sneaky and manipulative mother of mine knew having the kids over would enable her the power of peace of mind, knowing we were there and not up to trouble. There were exceptions to the rule known as school events such as dances, speech tournaments and dance concerts and rare outings such as Disneyland or Magic Mountain. I remember how angry I was when my parents would not let me go to Citywalk with my high school boyfriend even if I offered for them to drive me there (especially when Disneyland was okay). I remember how angry I was when my parents would not let me go to Old Town Pasadena with my friends even if I threatened to just lie to them and say I was just hanging out at my friend's house. I remember how confused I was about why they would let me go to the mall, which was just as much a mess as Old Town or Citywalk and how frustrated I was with the stupid restrictions that I alone had. When I was old enough to go to such places with friends, I realized they were filled with older people, drunk, inebriated and just weird whereas the mall was not populated with such "weird" people as my mom will explain today.

When I was growing up, I was only allowed to use the phone 3 times per day. I easily got around the rule by talking on the phone whenever my mom wasn't home and then claiming it was my first call when she did get home. Even WITH the rule, I was on the phone for an exorbitant amount of time. In fact, it is sad how much time I lost on real life interactions with friends, schoolwork, or books because of the time lost talking on the phone. However, having the rule, I knew the moment mom was home, I had better be doing something other than talking on the phone. And again, her sneaky little restriction worked because when not talking on the phone, I did my homework, read or hung out with the family. When that became too boring, I immersed myself in extracurricular activities.

That said, I cannot wait to be a mother and to instill the same values and rules (catered to whatever issues my own kids will be facing in their day) my mom did for me, but to also explicitly teach my kids the principles of faith, prayer, and repentence and the gospel. It won't be easy... as evidenced by the panel discussion at last night's conference but my mom once said.. "I gave you wings and I taught you how to fly .. but whether you decide to stay here, glide in the air or soar above, is up to you. I cannot prevent you from crashing or guide the path of flight once you have flown off and you can decide which principles of flight you take from me but the eventual flight is your own."

Captain Mormon to the Rescue!

I spent Memorial Day weekend in Las Vegas, also known as Sin City. Talk about temptation. Every corner you turn, lights are blazing in your face, people are walking aimlessly around the strip, greed and what if I win thoughts pushes everyone to try Lady Luck, alcohol is free flowing and sluttiness and "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" attitude are over-abundant. And in the midst of all of this, was lil ol' me who has already set a baptism date.

I planned the trip before I started investigating the Church. It was technically going to be a birthday weekend of debauchery and insanity. As the date approached, I hesitated to remind anyone of my birthday or invite more people on the grounds of it being a birthday celebration because I knew what that would entail.

So with that, the trip was only with three girlfriends. Off we went on our mini road-trip to the City of Sin!

"So..." they asked me, "since you're technically not baptised yet, why don't we treat this like your bachelorette party?!" "Yeah!" another chirped in. "Daisy's last time drinking and partying in Vegas before she turns Mormon."

"Umm... I don't think that's really how it works," I replied. "Oh who cares! Nobody will know! We won't tell your Mormon friends."

"God will know," I responded before even realizing the rebuttal that would come with that.

"Okay Captain Mormon, let's talk about this." Crap. I got a nickname and we've only been driving for an hour. Seriously?!

So with that and a series of other questions, came the journey of knowledge. They asked me all sorts of questions, beginning with the initial interest and investigation to the Words of Wisdom, what substances were considered addictive and why it wasn't just caffeine, the law of chastity and how that was even sane in today's world and what if I fell for a non-member who was perfect but not Mormon, why I wanted to be a baby making machine and if I really knew what I was getting myself into.

Like so many young, strong, independent and working women, the conversation turned to sex. We missed the next freeway change and the conversation turned to the Church of Jesus Christ Latter Day Saints. Upon missing the freeway and simultaneously changing conversations, I said maybe that's God's hand in advising us to stop talking about sex, start talking about religion and get on our way! They loved this one. "You just said God gives you agency so by that logic, how can God make us miss our freeway entrance?!" In a frenzy to clarify the difference between what God gave us - the power to do whatever we want and what God blesses us with - unconditional support and love and guidance through our prophets - I was then challenged with why the Church follows the teachings of a prophet. Again, I tried to explain, with no success, and eventually just invited everyone to Church.

We continued to talk abut religion, and then I had this epiphany while we were conversing.

"You guys all believe in karma right?" I asked. Nobody denied it, everyone believed it and anybody who did otherwise was asking for it.

"So this concept of karma... it's not proven." I said. "There's no scientific evidence that karma works nor is there a guarantee that if you do something good, you receive good in return or that if you do something bad, you receive something bad in return." I continued. "Yet you all follow it and live according to that theory, knowing anyday if you should do otherwise, you will get screwed. And whether or not that is the case, you do so and when something bad happens - whether or not it's karma, you say, oh crap, it's karma! And you do something good, in anticipation of good karma later, without knowing when. And when it comes, you say, yeah darn straight! There's my good karma!"

"Of course!" they all agreed, not knowing where I was taking this.

"So, that is how I feel about God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit and the prophets!"

Without even giving me a chance to continue, I was told, "that's not the same Daisy!"

"Yes it is!" I screamed. "Listen! You have NO EVIDENCE that karma works, yet you live your life, maybe not entirely according to it, but you let it guide you and for someone who doesn't believe in karma, your ideology is flawed and not considered adequate. You know I'm right! I believe in what the Church teaches because I've felt this insane emotional confirmation of everything the Church teaches - and I do truly believe that is God telling me this is it! And so, because of that, I do what I do and have changed my lifestyle in ways I never thought possible."

"That's not the same Daisy. Karma is not religion," they told me.

"I didn't say it was! I'm simply providing you with an analogy for what you deem as crazy but I deem as reasonable, using an example of what you all believe and follow."

There was a bit of silence and instead of letting it sit and waiting for their acceptance, I quickly changed the subject to put everyone at ease. Captain Mormon to the rescue.

5 hours later.. we arrived in Vegas.

Modest dress. Modest dress. I brought a dress that was a bit shorter than knee-length but had sleaves and was not low cut. Manipulatively, I put on jeans and a cute plaid blouse first.

"You can't wear jeans in Vegas!" they told me.

"Wear a slutty dress!"

Luckily, another girl was wearing a turtle neck dress that also came slightly above her knee. Probably not Church appropriate, but certainly more appropriate than the other options. With that, I said, okay - I'll wear the dress I brought!

"Yay!" they responded.

I put on the slightly more conservative dress and no objections were heard. After all, I had already changed into a dress to fit in. Score!

The first night we went out, Kate wanted to go back early. "Let's go Captain Mormon, I know you don't want to stay late either." True statement. Maybe this Captain Mormon thing ain't so bad after all.

Throughout the entire weekend... the Mormon thing never ceased to disappear. Over and over again, we discussed religion and they all learned about the religion - probably more than they ever imagined and Kate (she's a Unitarian) even agreed to come to Church with me one day, some day, maybe not the summer (Unitarians have a vacation from Church during the summer), but sometime eventually.

On Sunday, I went to a nearby ward which started off horrifically. First, none of the cab drivers knew where it was and I had not performed my own due diligence in mapquesting the location from the hotel. Armed with nothing more than an address, I encountered the rudest, most obnoxious and impatient cab driver. As I struggled to obtain assistance from a friend on the phone with access to internet and mapquest, he constantly corrected me with spellings of street names and reminded me that he spoke English. I welcomed his intolerance and jokingly responded. It must have been the adversary angry that I was leaving such a fun City of Sin for Church and time with God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. Once I was in the Church, I felt the Holy Spirit with me repeatedly. It was spectacular! Daisy, the non-crier, got teary eyed during Sacrament and Relief Society and met so many amazing people that once again, her faith was reinforced and she went back to the Hotel, reinvigorated for rejecting the temptations that would approach her for the next two days. (Yes, I just spoke in third person)

That afternoon, we watched the Eastern Conference NBA game and during the commercial break, a Captain Morgan commercial came out. The laughter erupted and they turned to me, citing "Captain Momo!" (the phrase turns to Momo when they are inebriated when I told them a LDS friend used the term).

In spite of all the temptation and plethora of sin surrounding me this weekend, I was able to see clearly, for the first time, what Vegas was all about. Yes, it's fun. Yes, it's insane. Yes, it's hot. Yes, it's slutty. Yes, it's relaxing. Yes, it's opportunity. Yes, it's crazy! But no, it's not normal. Everyone knows that, even those who partake in all the insanity that it provides. It's an escape from reality, a retreat from simplicity and an excuse for anything goes. I counted the number of times I had been to Vegas since 2000. 13 times. Of the 13 times, I have never been sober the entire weekend. 14th time... completely sober... the entire weekend. I'm a bit shocked that I did it.. but I did! And He helped me! Trust me, I could not have done that alone.

Simplicity Brings Happiness

I remember when breakfast for lunch day at school was THE day I looked forward to because sausage and syrup for lunch is amazing! I remember when I'd stand in the restroom making bubbles with the soap between my hands until my mom came over to ask if I was constipated. I remember when eating Thrifty ice cream at the Laundromat on the weekends with mom and pops was the highlight of my weekend and why I still love doing laundry to this day. I remember when feeding the ducks bread at the park made me laugh with glee until my tummy hurt. I remember when I'd purposely leave a big wad of Elmer's glue on my hand in anticipation of it drying up so I could peel it and revel at the joy of doing so. I remember when I'd wake up at the crack of dawn on Saturday, run to my mom and pops room, jump on my pops to awaken him so he could go with my downstairs to turn on the VCR to record the Saturday morning cartoon line-up because the restriction to watch TV Monday through Friday was worth it if I got Saturday (plus I had every intention to have it recorded, and rewatch it later in the afternoon). I remember when life was simple. Worry-free. Trouble-free. Stress-free. Adult-free.

And then I recall when things started to change. When a growing anxiety that was not quite graspable started to become more omnipotent. Fears of where the next pimple would manifest itself on my face and how large it would get before the puss found its way in.... struggles with painful braces tightened once a month and head gear at night... and not feeling comfortable in your own skin because all the youth sized pants are too short (no, I am NOT waiting for a flood), but all the teen stuff is too big and leaves me swimming in a sea of clothes (I'm like Goldilocks and nothing is just right).

I call this the yuck teen period. This it time when most girls between 13-15 are either adorable and cute or ugly and awkward. I fell in the latter and as the opportunity provided me ample time to develop and grow an outgoing personality as one of the guys and one of the funny girls, the simplicity noted from being a child was gone.

But even I managed to surpass this time, focusing on school, extracurriculars and learning who I was as a daughter, a sister (unwilling for the first 16 years) and a friend, I was faced with the next period (and where I currently reside) in life that would present its own hardships.

Adulthood. High school and college went by with a flash and then there was this thing called adulthood that basically is the real world and the real world? ... The real world.... SUCKS.

Yes, income is great and no homework or tests and having all that free time is even better.. but realities such as health benefits, car payments, housing situation, IRA contributions, savings for the future (the family you don't even have yet), consideration of a new job when your current one stops providing you challenge and growth, juggling numerous friends in a large city, across the states and the country, attempting to date and find the one, and finding the perfect balance to bring you the happiness that simplicity once did.... is so extremely hard beyond belief. On the bright side, now the ignorance that accompanied the simplicity from childhood is gone and I can better appreciate the simplicity in my life today.

And that's one of the principles of the gospel, although not explicit, that I find so fascinating and reassuring. In Christ, I am not only forgiven of my sins... but by the Commandments of God and living according to His gospel... I am returning to simpler times.

Someone said to me the other day... it's 2009, seriously? Her comment came as a result of discussing modest dress and the slight reluctance I had towards abandoning my cute summer dresses. But in all honesty, I know my cute summer dresses draw unecessary attention to what's on the outside. As cliche as it sounds, the inside matters more. If you can't find a way to look cute in something modest... maybe there are bigger issues at hand.

Simplicity. Happiness. Synonmous.

The Biggest Challenge...

To my surprise... was not giving up 10% of my annual income (albeit not that much to begin with). To my surprise... was not attending Church for 3 hours on Sunday (it's not only fun, it just feels so right and good!). To my surprise... was not giving up beer, saki, saki bombs, wine or peach vodka sodas along with dominating at beirut or flip-cup (I suppose I can still do the latter with H2O). To my surprise... was not staying clear of green teas or my favorite Coffee Bean tropical passion tea (which I still have 2 huge packs of courtesy of the BFF since Coffee Bean is rare in San Jose). To my surprise... was not knowing I'd have two visits each month from another Church member known as home and visiting teachers (seriously two?). To my surprise... was not committng to the law of chastity (ironically all the ex's seem to think otherwise and have taken on the challenge with no success). To my surprise... was not having to wear a skirt every Sunday (LOVE skirts and dresses). To my surprise... was not knowing my non LDS friends or family would be precluded from my wedding ceremony (there's still a reception.. plus ceremonies are boring except for those in 'em). To my surprise... was not knowing I'd need to buy more sweater cover ups and shirts with sleaves and say farewell to my super duper cute dresses and shorts (it's just a baby step in the grand sprint of living according to the gospel).

To my surprise... the biggest challenge was and still is.. keeping the Sabbath day holy.  

After struggling with the concept of not going anywhere where people had to work on Sunday (this by the way rules out everything), about partaking in spiritual things ... I was utterly confused and a lil shocked.  What about my kids?  What if they had tournaments on Sundays?  What if they were going to graduate on Sunday?  What if right?  Well, the missionaries gave me some good advice about how I could keep the Sabbath day holy and now.. I find myself there.  I will worry about the kids after I find a guy.  And how my Sundays have changed.  ...

I avoid the gym. Instead, I walk Fatty about 2 miles and listen to conference talks or continue with the Book of Mormon (I'm on Mosiah 15 .. woo-hoo!).

I avoid going restaurants and the grocery store. Instead, I stock up on Saturday with anything I may want to eat and avoid any food shopping on Sundays but diving into the leftovers and bits and pieces left around the house (it manages to work thus far).

I avoid the urge to shop on Sunday. Instead, I think of how much money I'm saving and daydream of how I can rearrange old outfits to make new ones (but not for too long... cuz that's not really that holy).

I avoid teleivision shows. Instead, I blog about my spiritual journey. If I finish.. I do watch a bit of tv.. but no more than an hour (Hey.. I'm honest.. but I am sincerely trying)!

I avoid girly fashion and celebrity crap magazines. Instead, I spend my time catching up with friends and family (not just the BFF and the mom, but the ones I don't talk to everyday at 7:30 AM as well).

So all together, I have been trying to keep Sunday Holy by turning to spiritual things which I know will strengthen my faith. The funny thing is, this lifestyle change is much harder than anything else.  It's easy to make excuses, but I'm a big girl so I can admit to my own faults and acknowledge the areas of improvement and growth.  But... to comfort myself that I was not alone, I searched for some guidance and found reassurance of why I must do so... 

the following is from Elder Gillespie...(and no, I have no idea who that is)...

"the Sabbath was given that we might keep ourselves “unspotted from the world.” it is a day to partake of the sacrament, a day “to pay [our] devotions unto the Most High,” a day of “fasting and prayer,” a day to offer our time, talent, and means in service to our God and our fellowmen, a day to “[confess our] sins [to our] brethren, and before the Lord.” It is also a good day to pay our tithes and fast offerings, a day to be marked by sincere sacrifice of the pursuits and pleasures of the world. It is a day to keep the Sabbath covenant, a day of “rejoicing and prayer,” a day of “cheerful hearts and countenances.

The prophet Spencer W. Kimball counseled: “The Sabbath is a holy day in which to do worthy and holy things. Abstinence from work and recreation is important but insufficient. The Sabbath calls for constructive thoughts and acts, and if one merely lounges about doing nothing on the Sabbath, he is breaking it. To observe it, one will be on his knees in prayer, preparing lessons, studying the gospel, meditating, visiting the ill and distressed, sleeping, reading wholesome material, and attending all the meetings of that day to which he is expected. [Failure] to do these proper things is a transgression on the omission side.”

So with a *sigh and a flick of my feet as I pivot.. I take on the challnege to do such. Here I go.. wish me luck. I will be the biggest winner.. not loser.  

Sushi, Sake and So Many Questions

A year ago... one of my good friends got married. A year ago... I met all her amazing friends at the bachelorette party. A year ago... we partied like rockstars in Vegas for the bachelorette. A year ago... we then met again for the wedding a few weeks later. A year ago...

A year later... I met with this group for sushi and sake. Having given up alcohol, it was just sushi for me and many many questions.

"So are you really Mormon now?" "How did you pick that religion?" "Why is it such a strict religion?" "Can you just be a jack Mormon?" "Can you marry a non-Mormon?"

Despite the millions of questions thrown at me, the many discussions of how, why and would this really last?... it was exactly what I needed. Not only did I get challenged for my new faith, but throughout it all, I recognized how strong my faith really is.

We reminisced about the bachelorette party a year ago... our mimosas at breakfast, our uninhibited dancing in the pool and the apple bottom jeans JEANS... boots with the fur... WITH THE FUR dancing in the limo and our drunken escapades all weekend long in Vegas. I can't deny .. it was definitely fun, but part of that fun was just the open and welcoming personalities of these girls, with or without alcohol. I sat there, enjoying our conversations about surburbia versus the city, raising kids in today's world, handling finances with your husband, relationships and men, and the difficulties and joys that come along with marriage. As we sprinted through the chuckles and crazy girl moments with movies on in the background (Devil Wears Prada, Bend it Like Beckham and Bride Wars --yes, we went through three movies) , the question would often arise as the girls sipped on sake and beer and became increasingly more drunk of "Can you really give this up? But you're a drinker and it's ingrained in you!"

YUP! I know it's still early.. it's only been a couple of months, but the strength I have now is much more powerful and unique than wanting to detox from alcohol for health reasons.

Even better, the night, filled with its challenges of the opposition, reinforced the fact that I would stilll be the same despite having a new faith. As I bounced around the house, the girls reminded me that I was the same super ADD and eccentrically energetic girl they had met a year ago. True, my past helps define who I am, but my present and future do as well. True, I know the difference between an Irish car bomb and a flaming Dr. Pepper shot and have witnessed many man shots (snort the salt, take the Tequila shot and squirt the lime in your eye!), but that knowledge doesn't mean I am sad to not be partaking in such drinks anymore.

Our friendship was not based on alcohol. In fact, I remember precisely the moment I realized, I loved these girls who I barely knew and had just met. That moment was in the car on the way to Vegas as we scarfed down flaming hot cheetos and fruit and talked about life. In fact, as I was driving over to my friend's house last night, I actually thought .... I wonder if there will be flaming hot cheetos tonight!

Friendship should not be based on alcohol. Sure it helps to loosen many people and contributes to their friendliness, their ability to make others laugh and the propensity for crazy moments to happen... but if your personality is great... none of that matters. Chemistry is chemistry with or without alcohol.

When It Rains... it Pours...

I used to always joke about how when it rains... it pours... except applied to men. I'm not alone in that saying because how many times do all the guys start calling when your heart has begun to settle on one? How many times do all your ex's seem to be interested in reconnecting when you have just started seeing someone? How many times do random guys ask for your number when you're taken but nobody even looks your way when you're not?

Well, the saying hasn't diminished much and the same holds true but instead.. I can now apply it to the adversary. In laymen's terms, the adversary is everything going against me, also known as oppossition. And first opposition starts out as a trickle--that bit of rainfall that you can wipe off your forehead without so much as a bit of a smudge. But almost within seconds, picture that precise moment when you tilt your head upwards to look into the sky and all of a sudden, the tiny cute raindrops have manifested themselves into humongous raindrops attacking your face with each splatter that engulfs your face, soaking it until you are struggling for air.

Temptation overwhelms me daily. I'm too scared to admit it's the adversary or Satan... I prefer to think it's just the temptation of the world trying to coax me back towards where I was. And where I was.. was not bad. I just choose to avoid those same temptations in order to be happier because this makes me happier and I have no judgment towards those who don't consider what are temptations to me, temptation.

The biggest misconception with religion are the things that religion makes someone do. Religion does not MAKE me do anything. I CHOOSE to live my life according to His commandments. I CHOOSE. Nobody MAKES me. Living by these commandments is a process, not an event. So yes, maybe I falter. Please don't point your finger and call me a hypocrite right away. It's the process of continual repentance which is not just knowing I did someting wrong and asking for forgiveness, but sincerely committing to avoid making those same mistakes again.

I'm sure my non-LDS friends are wondering... so I will take this time to answer. Yes, I do miss alcohol at times. And yes, I do think about cracking open a bottle of wine and drinking it by myself. But then I think...and then what? Start blogging about everything that is sad in my life by spinning humor on it and make someone else laugh while I have a pity party for one? No thank you. Misery loves company.. but I prefer to be the company for happiness because that's pretty awesome as well. I do also think about the times when I'm with friends saki bombing or just having a sip of wine over dinner and those times are so great, I am confident it is the same with or without the wine. I can be buzzed over the greatness of being with great people instead of losing my judgment and drunk dialing or texting random people.

And yes, there is a little bit of every Sex and the City character in me who will slowly wither away and as prudish or unfun as you may think that is... I think it's pretty amazing. The inappropriate Samantha, the confused Carrie, the by-the-rules to get married Charlotte and the professionally focused Miranda are and will always be a part of me... but my city is now sexless and promises to be committed, worthwhile and emotionally fulfilling.

Some might call it a coping mechanism. When it pours, floods come about and coping is not enough. I can't just tread water for a couple of minutes and hope the water dries out. I don't want to swim around aimlessly until I'm too tired to move. And I definitely don't want to drown. I want to float. I want to live... and live happily. So I call it the living mechanism. My living mechanism is through Him and I do not choose to call upon Him only in my time of need. I call upon Him everyday and ask for His blessing and strength and continue to strengthen my faith in Him.

You Can't Make a Leap of Faith By Sitting On Your Bum!

Belief is a funny thing. When I was younger, my mom swore to me that the Tooth Fairy was real and even though Santa Clause was a far fetched stretch of the imagination (and something I learned early on was not real), the Tooth Fairy ... the Tooth Fairy was definitely a different ballgame. Because the Tooth Fairy... she was real. Confident in my loving mother's honest ways, I brought the dollar bill I found under my pillow from a lost tooth exchanged from the Tooth Fairy, to school the next morning, to show off to all my friends. I was about seven years old. This was in second grade. Think back to second grade. What do you remember from it? Here's what I remember. Kids are darn cruel. Yes, even in second grade. Super duper cruel. I was devastated with what happened next.

First they laughed. Then they pointed and laughed. And then they ridiculed my stupidity, continued to point and obnoxiously laughed outloud. "You're soooo stupid!" "You're such a big baby!" Though the words were succint and to the point, they translated to a grown up's vocabulary of Wow, you really are gullible AND naive.

I went home that day dejected and disappointed in myself and my mother. How could I ever trust her again? I was scared to confront her but I was mad at how stupid I was for believing her. When I got home, despite my fear...I asked her why she lied to me. She said she didn't. I was furious!

"You told me there was a Tooth Fairy!" I screamed.

"There is" she told me.

"No there isn't!" I retorted. "The Tooth Fairy is fake just like Santa Clause!" I was so angry. I already knew the truth.. so why was she still trying to lie to me?

"Then how did that dollar bill get underneath your pillow and who took your tooth last night?" she asked me.

"You did!" I explained.

"Why can't I be your Tooth Fairy?" she asked.

I was silent. Technically, I never confirmed with her that a fairy with a cute little dress would fly into my window and use her wand to get my tooth out from under my pillow and give me money in exchange. Technically, the only thing I had discussed was the transactional side of the exchange and not the technicalities. Technically, she was right. Technically, I was still angry. Technically, I got over it.

I look back on that tooth fairy incident and laugh now. To me, the greater lesson learned is to think for yourself about what people tell you and consciously speculate whether it makes sense before believing too soon. Even at seven years of age, I knew people did not have wings. I knew fairies did not exist. But I wanted to believe that they did. I wanted to believe it was real even if it wasn't. Did I know if it was real? No, not really. But did I know if it was fake? No, not really. My beliefs were formulated around what I thought i knew.

As I continue investigating the Church, I earnestly seek reason behind every doctrine and the logic behind every principle taught. Despite seeking the aforementioned, I know in the deepest of my heart that this is the true Church. I know this weird feeling is not something I've concocted to reassure myself. I know this is God, knowing me and what I need and finding me when He knew I was ready. I know these weird events that have been happening in my life, what I like to call a series of coincidences too coincidental to be coincidental, is just part of his Plan to bring me back to Him. And I know I have never been happier. And regardless of what that means to anyone else, I know what it means to me and I know how I feel ... so sorry folks, this is it.

I'm not brainwashed. I choose to be faithful because I believe. I'm not a loner who is going to Church for the sense of community and support. My current friends are pretty amazing at that. I'm not joining the Church so I can find a guy, get married and make babies. I was already working on that before the Church (I have never hidden the fact that I want 5 kids and yes, I do know I'm already behind). I'm not jumping into this too quickly. It's been 2 months and I'm still not baptized (and it took a lot of self restraint to not jump into the water in San Jose the moment I felt the Spirit). If you're still confused, I invite you to come to Church with me, read the Book of Mormon and pray about it because no leaps of faith were ever made sitting on your bums!

Yes, I said it... a leap of faith. You knew it was coming because a) it was in the title and b) you're my friend so you must be smart (I know that's debatable at times for some of you)...

What is faith? Believing in something? Hoping that it will be like you believed? I turned to my hand dandy dictionary.com website for the official definition and the first two definitions stood out to me:

Faith [feyth] - noun
1. confidence or trust in a person or a thing;
2. belief that is not based on proof

To me, faith cannot coexist without this extensive exertion of leaping. Without this leap, your faith is lazy and faltering and most likely won't uphold much of a wind, a tiny push or any sort of opposition. Because if it's not strong enough for you to take a leap in which you may fall iinto who knows where.. it's not worth it. Everyone takes leaps of faith but not every leap is one associated with religion. Love is a leap of faith. One never knows when they'll wake up one day and be out of love. Yet we continue falling into it, putting our heart on the line making sacrifices for our significant other without any sort of guarantee that it will be recipocrated except for our faith in the fact that it will. Or our faith in the one we love. Well that my friends, is similar to the faith I experience with God.

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11)

"...faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true..." (Alma 32:21)

Those words were so powerful to me because they are spot on. I'm not sure how faith works... nor do I know why it works. What I do know is the impact it has had on my life lately and how receptive I am to those changes. I know it freaks some people out but if my faith isn't hurting anyone so I'm confused about why anybody would be concerned about my faith. My faith makes me happy. My faith encourages me to live my life in accordance with His commandments. I don't think my faith has made me a better person. Or a nicer person (I'd like to think I was already kind, generous, thoughtful and considerate before) but I do sincerely think it makes me who I am and pushes me to be even better and nicer than I was (that does not mean I will stop being sarcastic or sassy). My faith truly completes me. And that ... is pretty awesome. Plus, at the end of the day, I'd hate to be selfish but .. it's my leap.... I am not falling into any abyss so just let me make my leap and watch how great it is. If you want to make a similar leap, let's talk. We can leap together.