That's Actually Not Cool...

I was part of the "Smoke Free Class of 2000." The lofty campaign was deeply embedded into our lil 7 year old minds complete from a jolly jingle, demonstrations with stained cotton to depict the images of our lungs after just one puff and brightly colored yellow t-shirts.

Unfortunately, like many kids, I did try smoking and though smoke free now, missed the point of the campaign by trying it.

I was 14 and wanted to look cool so I begged Gege, my oldest cousin six years my senior, to let me take a puff and "play baseball," the code word he used around adults when he wanted to go smoke a cigarette. I remember it vividly. We were outside of my parents old house, the sun was just setting and it was a breezy fall evening. I stood on the sidewalk watching him smoke and politely asked for a menthol, the mint flavored cigarette. He refused. I begged. He refused again. I tried to persuade him by using logic. Why could he smoke but I could not? Didn't he want to share his fun with me? I decided bugging him would break him down and he'd eventually give in. "You're too young," he told me. "But all the kids are doing it!" I explained. "Have you?" he asked. Without hesitating, I told a white lie. "Yes... tons of times! So it's not a big deal... I just want to try a menthol versus a regular cigarette." "You already tried it before?" he looked at me incredulously and sternly. "Well.. sorta..." I replied.

Upon hearing so, he handed me a cigarette with much skepticism, his eyes growing wider as I took it into my hands, his head tilting as if to focus on me more carefully. I wasn't sure how to light it.. I just held it in my mouth while he lit it right? He fidgeted with the lighter and frustrated, eventually snapped the cigarette back into his mouth, lighted it, and gave it back to me. I wasn't sure how it all worked but I had seen it tons of times on television and on the streets so I took it in between my fingers, brought the cigarette to my lips and took in a puff, trying my best to look seasoned at the art of smoking. As I held the cigarette, thinking for a brief moment how cool I looked, Gege's eyes grew large and he turned around and screamed, "Xiao Gu Gu! Zhong Cheng Jia zai tsou yan!" which translated to Auntie!! Daisy Chou is smoking! (the full name is always used when trouble ensues...)

My mom never heard... never stormed out of the house in anger.. never did anything.. but the fear of what she would do was enough for me to promise Gege never to smoke ever again. I didn't understand... he did it, he looked so cool doing it, why couldn't I? I wanted to know what he didn't know. I begged him over and over again to not tell on me and he struck a deal with me. "If you promise NEVER EVER to smoke, even when other people are pressuring you or telling you it's cool, then I won't tell your mom," he said. "Okay! I promised.

We pinky swore and after we did, he let out a deep hearty laugh. "What's so funny?" I asked. "You didn't even inhale." "Huh?" I replied, utterly confused. "If you smoked before, you'd know when you take a puff, you actually breathe it into your lungs." "What?!" I yelled. He tricked me! I eventually worked out a deal to actually take a puff, actually inhaled, and ended up coughing until I wanted nothing ever to do with a cigarette again. And he eventually told my mom and I got yelled at but promised NEVER EVER to smoke again. I'll never forget that day. It was a pivotal point for me.. the moment I decided smoking was really not cool and that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. I'm so glad that moment happened because it helped me avoid smoking on the patio at college parties, in happy hour settings, and at any weekend outing.

After being in Vermont for a week with two chain smokers, I've been reminded of how uncool smoking is. I'm not ashamed to make blatant comments about how disgusting it is or how their second hand is killing me and my future. Then, at lunch today, I found myself starting a conversation about why they smoked. "Does it make you feel better or taste good or what?" i asked sincerely. Before they even began to answer, I interjected with.. "because when I was younger... and I tried smoking, it was seriously.. because I thought it looked cool. Before I could get addicted, I realized how gross it was and got over the whole cool thing and I really think every single person who smokes, does it because they think it's cool and then are stuck doing it forever and not by choice!" I paused. I had said a lot. I felt immediately guilty of the over critical attitude I had exhibited. Oops. Time to repent.

One of the co-workers is from Japan, is in the US on secondment and speaks very little English. He is pretty quiet most of the time. My question brought about a smile and he looked at me and replied, "Actually, that is true." Woah. Not what I expected. He continued. "That's why I started smoking and sometimes, even when I smoke now, I think, I am looking cool." Again, not what I expected. The other co-worker chimed in, "Well, I personally didn't start smoking cuz I thought it was cool, I just saw my mom doing it my whole life." I nodded, thought for a second and responded, "But you respect and look up to your mom and I'm sure growing up, you probably imitated her, so maybe you thought it was cool, subconsciously?" He shook his head and responded, "I don't respect my Mom though!" and my response was silence. "Just kidding!" he said. Whew. But I couldn't stop. "Isn't it interesting that everyone knows how bad smoking is and there are even laws against doing it in certain places but not with drinking when they're both not unhealthy habits?" I asked. Both my co-workers know I'm LDS and though I wanted to go on about how accurate the prophecies were... I decided that was enough for the day. Our conversation quickly changed to how awesome the homemade hot sauces, ketchup and cola at this uber green restaurant we were dining at, but I continued to ponder.

We all know examples are important. We all try to be a good example. We also all look for good examples around us. So just think, how much more important is it to be a good example to your kids? And how much more important is daily scripture study and daily prayer for your kids who will look up to you, will imitate you, and will think you're cool (even if they don't vocalize it)?! Like Elder Bednar said during the past conference, "Consistency is key!" Start building those good habits now. I read this morning that "good habits are the soul's muscles, the more you use them, the more they grow." You better believe it, plus the Prophet said it .. duh. Sometimes it is a big duh in our own lives. I mean, until I realized how stupid it was to smoke, I 100% thought it was cool and I am so grateful that someone I looked up to, told me blatantly...how stupid it was! Thanks Gege. I am reminded everytime I smell second hand smoke and everytime my coworkers take a smoke break. And on top of that, I've committed to making sure that my own definition of what is cool should be what is "cool" in the eternal sense, because that's what really matters and that's what really is ... cool!

Football and Me

I'm not athletic. I've never claimed to be. The extent of my athleticism is boxed into a category known as dance. I have been a part of numerous dance teams - drill, dance and formation ballroom dancing, but within in these groups, the concept of winning is drastically different. Unlike a "sport," there aren't different positions that work together and in most dance team competitions, it's the unity of performing the same moves or coordinated waves which determine the outcome of our winning.



So when I recently decided to join the powder puff football team with our Ward, I was not only skeptical, I was fearful. And although I know fear and faith cannot coexist, fear is the best description of my decision to participate in competitive sports for the following reasons:



1) I'm not as competitive as some of the girls on the team.



At least not openly so. The extent of my competition is ensuring I am constantly pushing myself to be more than what I am. So if I can't even catch a ball, catching it once out of ten practice drills is better than none and sadly, to me, that is a win. Unfortunately, my teammates might feel different.



2) I am not willing to put my body at risk of catching a ball.



I once jammed my finger catching a football. Not only were my fingers swollen with purple and pain, but I was lucky enough to have it on my left hand - the hand that is less utilized (sometimes I aim to be ambidextrous since I was born a leftie and switched over by my mom who inadvertently stifled my creativity). Now if I was an athlete by profession, I would not care, unfortunately, I am an accountant by choice and my hands are quite important as I am on the computer more than 10 hours a day. That means letting the ball fall sometimes and hearing my wonderful teammates cheer me on for the next catch while they repress expressions of utter disappointment.



3) It's football and I'm a girl.



I know, you're thinking How sexist! How gender typical are you Daisy? Well, I enjoy watching football... if someone is watching it with me but I really enjoy shopping... even if nobody is with me. I also enjoy good replays on Sports Center even if by myself but I really enjoy the cheerleading and dance competitions on ESPN and am usually by myself.

So basically my football world turned upside down when I heard Coach Mendenhall of the BYU Cougars at a fireside in San Diego last weekend. I'll admit, I was watching a lot of BYU football because Andy is a huge fan and it's a great weekend pastime, but until last Friday, I wouldn't have called myself a Coug fan.

As the members of the football team spoke about their own experiences being a disciple to Christ through their mission, through football and life in general, the spirit engulfed me. I was touched by the simple words of each player and Coach Mendenhall and the message that the game was secondary and being a disciple to Christ is always first. It reminded me to take every opportunity to not only live the Gospel, but share it and be proud of it and not get caught up with the temporal things of the world. And then, when I least expected it, the defensive linebackers got up and sang a song. Again, the strength of the spirit moved me, which also caused me to chuckle a bit because there's no doubt in my mind that the spirit is real… why else would I become choked at the off-key musical performance of some big brawny football players?

After the fireside, I reflected on my own football experiences. The last practice I had was a Tuesday before this fireside, one in which I seriously considered bailing because there were other things I'd rather do - sure, it's a good work out but I suck and I would much rather be doing something I'm good at and also burns calories. I ended up going because of the obligation I felt from the prior commitment made. After this last weekend, I realized... I should continue going because it's actually not half bad AND the game is second to the relationships made there. Not only is it an amazing way to connect with other sisters from the Ward but the brothers as well! A bunch of dudes volunteer their time to not only teach us the basics of flag football (you know you can only pass one time, only pull flags if they have the ball .. ahh, it all makes sense now!) but have the patience to consistently coach and encourage us. And trust me... if you saw some of us newbies, you'd be amazed. I am amazed. And re-energized for football - both the Cougs and the Angels.

The One Time I Want Calluses...

There are a lot of Mormons at my work place. In fact, that's how I first came to learn about the Church ... through co-workers. During the day, I have a sametime chat list that is entitled "Momos" and whenever I have a gospel question, they are my go to people to contact if I want an immediate answer and Andy isn't online.

All my conversations are normally quite informative and very priceless but today.. one hit home and made me want to blog immediately ... and since it's Friday and I just finished everything on my list.. I'm going to take a risk and write it down before I forget!

Scott and I were having a conversation about life and audit and I told him a really funny story about realizing the presence of the Spirit and not recognizing it (sorta like a gain that isn't recognized until something is sold... yeah, I'm a CPA but I'm bad at math). We got to conversing about testimonies and he reminded me that the knowledge that I have is a major blessing.

In fact .. he said it with emphasis indicated by use of the caps lock key like this: "...that KNOWLEDGE...is a MAJOR blessing." He went on to tell me, "it has to be nourished, just like everything else in life...a marriage, a plant, etc. and if it's not nourished, it'll die." He then followed it quickly by, "Not to freak you out, but you CAN lose that knowledge if you're not careful, God will take it away from you."

"I know!" I told Scott. "But ... it kinda feels like it's easier for me, only because I can see the stark difference of the Spirit in and out of my life." I went on to tell him... "I'm holding onto the iron rod tightly...and I feel fresh and ready to hold on forever." I paused for a second after that. And if my hands grow tired? That's the opposition talking right there because I refuse to let my hands get tired. And in fact.... my hands, are still not callused and therefore, are not shielded from the initial blisters which are painful at first but end up protecting me and enabling me to hold on continually. And I do fully intend to strengthen them! So, I have to remember to build small calluses which will help me hold on tightly and consistently. I liken it to when I first started investigating and was reading once a week... maybe twice if time permitted, praying at night only... and loading up on reading talks with three or four in a day and then taking a break for a week after until a new urge came to read and enlighten myself. Now, I'm consistent with the lil items that matter - daily scripture study and prayer and ensuring that I do not ebb and flow by over or under doing it.. and aim for the Goldilocks philosophy of what is just right for me.

It's weird because I never thought I'd want calluses. But I do because I don't plan on letting go of the iron rod... anytime.. ever!

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.

Cold Pizza for the Heart

Last night, when I returned from powder puff football practice (they let anyone join, even me!), my legs throbbed from the drills the coaches made us do, my body fatigued from the day's events, and my mind tired from focusing on when to yell "pass," "ball," and "over," and the first thing my mom asked me upon entering the back door was whether I had dinner. It was approximately 9:20 when I got back - I sure hope I ate by then! "Yes, thank you," I responded. It was as if she didn't hear me because the next question I got was, "Do you want some fruit?" and again, I tried, as politely as I could, to say no. "There's pizza if you want, leftover from our dinner!" she yelled from the living room and as I walked through the kitchen, I could see one little thin slice sitting on a plate and saran wrapped. I love thin crust pizza.. but I wasn't hungry. "And we have some mooncake but you shouldn't eat that cuz it's fattening!" she told me. "Okay! Thank you mom!" I replied. I was exasperated. A bit perturbed. But that's what mothers do right... they bug you until you call it nagging but it's really just affection.

Living at home is a constant challenge.. especially at 27. I think I've analyzed it enough to conclude it is due to the fact that these people who raised you, taught you everything you knew, are now your roommates AND your parents- which is hard. Plus, you've already been out on your own and now you have to come back and try to mesh your preferences together. Now, it's as if you're a guest and you're not here in the long run but just temporarily staying over for a bit.

The worst part is - I end up feeling like a lousy daughter when I think.. ugh, why are they nagging me?! The first thing my dad usually says when he comes home is where's the lil girl? - but in Chinese - I can't use pinyin well so forgive me for the lost in translation attempt. My mom loves getting updates on my life - how's work and has an impeccable memory that results in inquiries about every single friend I have had since elementary school and sometimes I just want to scream - I don't know where she is! I haven't talked to her since middle school!

So this morning, as I scattered half a dozen skirts and tops all over my purple sheet covered bed, trying to find something appropriate for a meeting with the senior manager and cute for when I meet up with a handsome guy later while carefully balancing the fact that I really wanted to wear the Chanel earrings Grace got me from Hawaii, my mom pranced in and plopped down on the spot which hadn't been engulfed by my clothing options. This is a rather normal occurrence - being in real estate gives her so much flexibility so she doesn't usually get ready for work until I leave. I tilted my hips sideways as I hopped into my tiny closet that is carefully placed in the corner of the room where the sleigh bed meets the door opening (sometimes I've hit myself while doing this and have to bite my knuckles in pain as the throbbing subsides) and as I did so, I asked if she had heard from Lay-Lay (my brother) as of late. To no surprise, she hadn't. (Guys don't seem to like calling their mothers as much as girls and guys don't also seem as privy to share detailed updates on their lives with their mothers... something my mom often complains about. A lot of what's going on in Lay-Lay's life is usually relayed by me and then if anything is important enough, retold to Momma Chou by my brother again.)

She stared at me and just kinda observed so I asked her what she had for dinner last night. "Yesterday we had pizza for dinner." Oh yeah! I knew that! She then continued... "You know, I got really sad yesterday." Oh man.. this is definitely because of the 'tude I gave her when I came home because I was irritated at her repetitive questions about whether I had eaten. "Oh.. " I continued. "Why..." I asked... a bit fearful of the admonishment I'd soon encounter.

"Well, I went in to get pizza for Dad and I at the Pizza Hut on Second. I was waiting there for the one pizza I ordered - thin crust, soooo good, and I thought of all those times when I used to go with Lay-Lay to pick up a bunch of pizzas for the whole family. But this time, I was sitting there by myself and nobody was with me. And then I started to cry because I missed those times when Lay-Lay would go with me and we'd eat together as a family. Yesterday, the only people eating the one pizza we got was Dad and me. And.. we didn't even get buffalo wings."

Awwww. My mom's so cute. It's hard to stop looking to the past sometimes.. especially when it was filled with happy moments. I reminded my mom that the future would also have lots in store. It didn't hurt to add that she is having a load of fun with my dad, that they go to all sorts of fun college and elementary school reunions together, that they have friends to hang out with, eat dinner and go dancing with! I told her to have fun now because when she had grandkids, she'd have even more options to juggle between. To that she laughed and said... hurry up then!

As I reflected on this morning's events... I thought...sometimes, we can smile about the past.. but we shouldn't stick around there too long.. and instead should really should learn to put it behind us. As good or as bad as it was... it belongs in the past and must stay there in order for the present to get to the future. A friend once reminded me about Lot's wife when I was apprehensive about the past and its influence on my present and future. It's one of the biggest challenges about finding the gospel and adapting to be a daughter of God. Time after time, I am faced with questions about why I've changed my standards, why I no longer participate in inappropriate joking and why I spend so much time with God. Over and over, I have explained that I didn't really choose myself... instead, the Lord gave me signs that indicated why I must not choose otherwise. In a way, I am obedient because I know the consequences of not doing so and I am faithful EVEN if it is hard. And I have been blessed because of it and that joy is undeniable and indescribable.

So remember Lot's wife. Who's Lot's wife you ask? So in the Bible, there was a story about Lot and his wife who were both instructed by the Lord to "Escape for thy life, look not behind thee . . . ; escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed" (Genesis 19:17). Lot and his wife left and his wife, against the instruction of the Lord, looked back.. and then... dun dun DUNNNNN.. she turned into a pillar of salt. Lesson learned... every time you find yourself dwelling on the past.. think, that's salty and try to avoid it!

As for my mum, it's an example of dwelling on the good parts of the past, which not as cunningly trapping as the bad times, can also be dangerous if it distracts you enough that you're unable to focus on the present. But... she's right, those were good times. And I also look back and smile and then think.. there's a slice of cold pizza at home waiting for me. How good that makes my heart feel!

It Always Counts

I fondly remember when we used to have spelling pre-tests in elementary school. They would be short and sweet--a mere preview of the tests to come later that week. I was quite fond of being a big dork, the kind that leans to the left (I'm right handed) and covers her paper with her left arm as she furtively writes in the words announced by the teacher and used in a sentence. And even when I found out the scores didn't matter and it was just a push to remind the less attentive students (aka slackers) that they needed to study for the big test - I knew it counted. Of course, it didn't.... but it helped me prepare for the actual test and it pushed me to study, prepare, and fail that test would I not!

And then I started working, and the tests (post CPA certification) were long gone. In its place were annual reviews but besides contributing to some subjective decision about the compensation package I was to have in the subsequent year, I wasn't privy to much of my file. I was told how I did and given a brief synopsis of things to improve on... but there was nothing tangible for me to grasp. So does the day to day stuff not count as much? Or what does count?

Last week... I counted my lucky marbles.

I was tasked to notify all those I have close working relationships with, particularly the partners and senior managers, of my two weeks notice. They were not difficult conversations rather they were enjoyable and conversational. In fact, almost all four conversations started with some catching up and me giving them an briefing on the joys of Southern cooking (I was in South Carolina all last week for an assignment) which consisted of buttered, fried, re-fried and did I mention... butter? Everything was slathered with butter or if not, was sitting in a tub of melted butter. I think you get the point.

p.s. Not very conducive to the new goal of slimming down for the wedding I am in come November.

I told all of them about the state of mind I had been in for a while. It began about a year ago when I was looking for another opportunity and the chance to go to San Jose for six months fell into my lap with the Learning and Education ("L&E") group. I went with high hopes and though I found the gospel, spent much needed time with the BFF and found myself - I also learned L&E was not for me and client service seemed a much better fit. Upon coming back... I quickly realized the passion I once had - the excitement at each planning, update and teaming meeting - had vanished. In its place, I grew bored and dull by every acronym thrown at me, at every FAS - wait they are codifying it!!!, and every technical alert revealed. And with the boredom, came the indifference that led to an unproductive and inattentive worker by the name of Daisy.

I told them I had analyzed the things I liked and disliked about the job in detail. I liked the people, like the Firm, like organizing, managing projects and teams, and liked interacting with everyone. I disliked the hours, the commute, and the technical aspect (which only grows to be more and more with each passing year!). But most important, the job didn't seem to be in line with my long term goals. I didn't tell them I had long planned to leave and become a school teacher back in 2006 - that was unnecessary. My plans had fallen through and at the time, continuing to work was the best option. Plus, I was still learning! I was still challenged! And I was still having fun! I also didn't tell them how low morale had gotten in light of the recent economic downturn. There was no need since it was pretty obvious and as corny as it sounds, we really are lucky to have a job despite the lack of salary increases this year (beats a salary cut).

Many friends (who are greater than acquaintances but less than close cronies) have often commented on the shock they find when I tell them of my utmost priority of having a family. I've been asked - but if you're good at this, why would you not do it. And what? I ask. Stay until partner? It's for some people, but it's not for me. If I can be a good associate or senior associate, I can be an amazing mom. Trust me... the latter is definitely harder. Even when I shared the decision to quit without a job, I was told, That's very unlike you Daisy. Upon explaining the plan of action I had ... some agreed it was best and some remained silent as indication of a polite and reverent disagreement.

It wasn't a quick decision. It wasn't an easy decision. It was long and thought out and extremely difficult. I talked to family. I talked to friends. I talked to Church leaders. I talked to people my Church leaders introduced me to. I weighed all my options. I prayed. And then... I made a decision.

I took that decision to the Temple two weeks ago...

I asked simply... for confirmation that this was the right thing to do.

I immediately felt a shiver... followed by what I imagine as God reaching out to hug me and comfort me that the decision was right. Rest assured by the embrace and touched by such a powerful and immediate response, my eyes filled with tears of joy.

But I was still nervous. I still had hesitations. And I had nothing. I mean.. in all honesty, I had a few business ideas and things to do, but it was a 100% pay cut and it was risky.

Despite the faltering anxiety, I trusted my friends, my family and most importantly, Heavenly Father.

Flash forward to the two weeks notice talks. First ... a partner asked me if I'd be interested in recruiting. I'll be honest, I thought - man, those hour are going to be just as bad for at least 6 months with all their night time recruiting events! But I wanted to keep my options open so I said sure. A day later, I got the news that there was a spot (hooray!) but another candidate was being considered and he/she was more qualified than me (sad face and ellipse).

Second... the senior manager asked me if I'd consider another non client service internal role. I told him the truth - it wasn't something I'd considered prior to quitting, it wasn't my intention when I gave notice - but yes, I'd be interested in hearing more. On Saturday, he called me back and offered me a role within the Firm which deals with deployment of teams and projecting revenue. It was a people heavy type role and my background with client service would help, the hours would be better and I could start immediately but.. (there's always a but) ...there was one small caveat. Given the recent turnover frenzy, I'd be asked to stay for four weeks for one of my client year-ends. I had already considered staying but knew my heart wasn't in it and my work would be questionable. Given the new situation, I had an incentive to do well!

Nothing is final yet .. but the recent turn of events made me realize how much it always counts. It being anything and everything and nothing doesn't count. Just like this mortal life is the time for us to prepare for our eternal lives... everything - little or not - what we do here in this life, prepares us for other things in this life and ultimately all the little things add up to that great day of judgment.

I am so grateful that someone noticed me and realized, I would be a good fit for something besides client service. There might not be anymore "official" pre-tests, but everything counts. Everything helps. Everything matters... even the small things.

Moreover, when you feel dejected about your honest and true efforts to do good or feel neglected, know that He is watching, He is noticing and He cares. His hand is in our lives... so trust Him and know that He blesses you for the righteous and good things you do... and in the end....that pure heart and mind you have committed to, the determination to keep His commandments, to recognize a wrongdoing and commit to change for the better, the service you provide to others, the helping hand, the caring support-- it all matters and... it always counts.

The Pie of Daisy

My conversion story is full of minute details that have yet to be fully captured on paper which makes it complicated when people ask.. so how did you come across the Church? Yet the more people I meet, the more stories I hear and the more testimonies that are shared with me... the more I realize...all these stories simply collide in a beautiful harmony that is a constant tune reminding me that everyone is a convert to this Church. Whether that chance encounter was from a knock on the door from missionaries, a missionary approaching you on the streets, a friend sharing the gospel, an acknowledgment of truth after searching for yourself, a determination to prove the Church wrong, a curiosity to know more, or simply a leap of faith... we all have our conversion stories.

The commonality is nothing more than a sincere surrender of pride that results in a desire to know the truth.

So I make no attempt to make this blog entry a story about the conversion, but instead to offer a bit of simplicity in the long story that is me coming to know the Church is true.

I was e-mailing Keiko, a good friend from Colombia that I was lucky enough to meet this summer based on a chance encounter she had with Quinn on a train that resulted in us sharing the gospel with her and many more summer fun time memories, and explaining to her the happiness that I felt from the gospel. But upon doing so, I paused and backspaced to the word "happiness." It's no surprise to anyone who knows me that I was happy before the gospel, meaning my life was one that had meaning. I laughed, I partied, I worked hard, I saved money, I hung out with family and friends, I made friends easily, I was boy crazy, I liked telling stupid jokes and I was-yup, you guessed it... happy!

So as I was about to tell her I am happier - I stopped. That simple phrase, as succinct as it attempted to be... was not doing it justice. I was not just happier. I was .... and the word came to me. Fulfilled.

I started to liken my life before the gospel to that of a pie chart. I had many things in my life that made it 100% but there was still a void there despite the pie looking full!

There's actually no room for anything else in my life in this pie chart... but what the gospel did for me was... created an outline to my life, redefined some of the parts in my pie and kicked out useless parts that didn't contribute fully to the "happiness" in my life.

My pie is a bit different now, but it's a more complete pie even if it looks just as scattered as above.. it just has a stronger circumference of faith keeping it together.

p.s. Andy was next to me as I made that chart, otherwise.. would I have put him as less, more, categorized him with a previous category or none of the above? *snicker and giggle.