First Date Anniversary Date

One year ago, Rob and I had our first date. There wasn't anything particularly special about the date, but there certainly was something special about the guy who asked me out on the date :) I'm so happy that I got up the nerve to tell him that I had a really good time and that I'd like to do it again. He tells me often that those were the magic words. And it must have been magic, because all I know is that one minute I was thinking that I was ready to go home since I had such bad heartburn, and then the next minute I was telling him I would like to go out again. It must have been the Spirit that moved me.

In honor of our first date anniversary, Rob brought me a dozen roses on Saturday morning. Then we went out to lunch at Ruby River, went shopping for plants at Home Depot, did our grocery shopping at Macey's, came home and planted pansies and strawberries, and then went down to Spanish Fork to see "Monsters vs. Aliens." I would highly recommend the drive to Spanish Fork to see a movie. There were probably 10 people in the theater, and the movie was surprisingly good.

It was nice to spend a day with my honey where we could take our time and didn't have to worry about anything else. We need to do it more often.

One thing that I've realized is that the counsel we've been given by church leaders to have a date night once a week really is crucial to the health of a relationship. Not that we're having a rough time, but life just get's so busy and crazy that I can see how if couples don't take time to just be with each other and not be talking about which bills need to be paid, oil changes, paint colors, etc., that they could possibly drift apart. And when children come, that just adds to the mix. I'm grateful that the gospel gives us direction in every aspect of our lives. In my Sunday school class that I teach, we've been talking about how every commandment that Heavenly Father gives His children, although it may seem more practical or temporal, is actually spiritual. The counsel to have a date night each week may seem practical in nature, but it really rejuvinated my spirit and helped my love grow for my husband.

As busy as life can and will get, we're always going to make it a priority to continue our courtship. It's been a wonderful year with my husband, and I'm looking forward to an eternity of wonder!

Random Friday Thoughts

1. Why is Paula Abdul a judge on American Idol? Have you heard "Straight Up?" That song is whack! That's right, I just said "whack." Maybe she's just there because the producers thought it might be kind of fun to have a crazy drunk lady who gets up and dances during the performances.

2. I've used "Back to the Future" as the paradigm through which I view all time-travel movies, and Lost is really messing me up. When are people going to start fading from pictures? And when is the Delorian going to show up? Somehow I think the Libyans got their sweet VW Bus from the Dharma Initiative.

3. How can I teach the kids in Sunday school that it is important to pay attention in class and not write on each other's legs and take 7 potty breaks? They're 16-17 years old... I thought they would have gotten that out of their systems. I tried telling them that their salvation depended on them learning the Doctrine & Covenants but apparently my hell-fire and brimstone approach didn't work. I just don't know how to reach these kids.

4. Anyone want to teach me how to grow stuff and not have it die?

5. I think I may be hard of hearing... or just have selective hearing. When I was in London, poeple were speaking English to me and I didn't understand a single word of what they were saying. I went to Cafe Rio and I didn't understand a word they were saying to me. So, maybe I have accent selective hearing. It's really becoming a problem for me.

6. There are a lot of "mature" people who live in my neighborhood, and by that I mean "old", but my mom told me that it's rude to say that someone is "old". Anyway, I just have to remind myself that when people drive bad, cut me off, slam on their brakes in the middle of the street, don't use blinkers properly, get in front of me and then go slow, that they're probably just "mature" and I need to be patient with them. My patience only extends to mature people.

7. Speaking of "mature" individuals, there's this lady in my ward who calls me several times a month to see if I have done my visiting teaching yet. She sure is diligent! And the last time she called me she said, and I quote, "Well, I'm supposed to ask you how the sisters you visit are, but to be honest, I don't really care. I'm old. I don't even turn around in church anymore to see who's talking. In fact, I don't even think I know what you look like." I had no response for that. And then she asked me if I was "the young lady who came all the way from California to marry that nice young man in the ward." I just said "yes." I don't want to confuse her. Nevermind that she thinks I'm a mail-order bride.

So, those are my random thoughts for a Friday. I hope that everyone has a great weekend. My husband and I are having our 1 year of knowing each other anniversary. It's kind of exciting. We're going to try to do some of the same things we did on our first date, but the Mexican restaurant we went to went out of business. I have to say I'm somewhat relieved... that food gave me bad acid reflux. I'll fill you in next week. I'll also fill you in on all of the strange stuff the cat that lives in my house does. I promised that I would never get attached to this cat, and that I would certainly never be one of those people that blogs about a pet. But, you know, things change.

Winter Wonder?land

There's a saying in Utah that goes: "If you don't like the weather, just wait a little bit." Well, I don't like the weather right now so I guess I'll just wait until Sunday when it will be in the 70s. This is what I woke up to this morning:


My neighbor took these pictures, but since she lives right down the street, I think you get the idea of what it looked like in my neighborhood. You can tell it's not my house because I would never leave my Christmas lights up this late.

Isn't this snow crazy? I didn't even know all of this had happened while I was off in dreamland... or that trees had been knocked over, power went out, etc. I remember back to 1 year ago when I had my first date with Rob. It was April 19, 2008 and not a snowflake was in sight. We sat outside eating ice cream that night because it was so warm.

I thought April 15 was supposed to be the perfect date. Not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket. Apparently Mother Nature didn't get the memo.

A Major Award

Do you remember when I posted about Shirley J's products a few weeks ago? I did that post as an entry into a contest to win their entire product line. And guess what? I won the entire product line! This is a major award! Maybe not as major as Becca and John winning round-trip airline tickets, but it's major to me. I've never really won anything in my entire life through luck. I'm what doctors might call "luck-challenged." Sure I've won things through merit, like the Stake Speech Festival and the Freedom Foundation Essay Contest, but never has my luck been lucky.

I went to pick up the goods yesterday and Becky gave me some good pointers on how to use the products. I'm excited for the cream bases and I'm sure Rob is excited about the dutch oven spices. I'll have to let you know how I like them. And if you come to my house for dinner, you'll probably be asking yourselves "is it Shirley J or Jenny from the Block?" You'll never know.

And as a side note, they totally laughed at my comment about the "Dharma" labels and they've hired a designer to re-do all of them. I saw a sneak peek yesterday and they look awesome!

Retraction

It seems that my last post was somewhat misunderstood, and some rather hurtful comments were elicited. I've deleted my post on trying to figure out how to mix holiday traditions because what I was seeking in writing it was to find out how others have dealt with trying to combine or create their own family traditions - what has worked and what hasn't worked - and not personal criticisms or attacks. I in no way intended to portray that I think my husband's family is strange or that they don't do a holiday up proper. I think my husband's family is wonderful and I do enjoy participating in their family traditions, but I'm still trying to find a balance of how to combine both sides, create new traditions and find my place in a new situation. My reason in writing it was to seek some honest, constructive feedback. Comments such as "suck it up" and "stop complaining" are neither constructive nor helpful.

You might be thinking, "well you kind of set yourself up for that," which may be true. If I allow comments on my blog, I'm likely to recieve a few that I don't agree with or are hurtful. That's the risk I take. I could also hand pick who I allow to read my blog, but blogging has been a good way to find old friends, make new ones, and keep in touch with the ones I already have. I'm not going to sacrifice that.

If anyone took offense at my post about holidays, please know that none was intended. I only had the best of intentions and didn't mean to be hurtful to anyone. I am ecstatic to be married, and I am happy to be married into a big family. It is still overwhelming and confusing and wonderful all at the same time. I'm just a newly married human, trying to do the best I can. And it's wonderful that my husband and I have an eternity to figure things out and make things work for us.

I welcome comments, but I expect all commenters to use common courtesy and respect. I have turned on comment moderation and will be moderating comments from now on. If you feel like you need to address something I've written, please do. But please do not block your profile or submit an anonymous comment. I'm a fairly reasonable person, and I'm open to discussion; however, if I don't know who you are, I can't clarify things for you or defend myself, or have you clarify or defend yourself.

To all of those who shared honest, kind feedback, I appreciate your suggestions. Your comments have provided my husband and me with some points for discussion and have helped us to figure out how we want to do our traditions. All I ask of you, my readers, is to consider that there is actually a person who writes this blog. A living, breathing, feeling person. I might look like a rhinoceros, but I have quite a thin skin, really.

Sip Bacardi Like It's Your Birfday!

Speaking of random memories, I was driving in my car the other day when a song by Fiddy sparked a childhood memory of Bacardi. You may wonder why I have childhood memories of Bacardi, since I grew up in an LDS home. I'm beginning to wonder myself.

When I was about 8 or 9, I was smart enough and tall enough to reach the cupboard over the refrigerator if I stood on a stool. My dad hid some cheese puffs up there, and I wanted some. I remember moving stuff around because I wasn't seeing any cheese puffs, when I saw a bottle with some dark liquid in it and a scandalous label. The label had a tropical-looking lady on it, and her boobies were showing. I felt bad about seeing a lady's boobies, being that I was past the age of accountability and all. Nevermind that it was alcohol.

I'd check periodically to see if the bottle was still there, and it always was. I often wondered about it and why it was in our cupboard, but never said anything to my parents until I was a sophomore in college and we were cleaning out their kitchen in preparation for a remodel. I pulled out the bottle of Bacardi and asked my dad why it was in the cupboard all of those years, in the back, unopened. He told me that it was there just in case there was a natural disaster and he had to perform emergency surgery on someone. I had no reason to not believe him, even though he is not a trained medical doctor (he did offer to remove my wisdom teeth using tools from the garage to avoid paying an oral surgeon). I asked him if he wanted me to pack it up with the rest of the stuff, and he said that we should throw it away because it was so old that the fumes that would escape from unscrewing the cap would probably knock someone out. Sketchy, but then again, my dad is a weird dude.

The next time I call him, I'm going to ask him about the Bacardi.

Why Do Asian-Americans Always Have Funny Names?

Do you ever remember really random things from your childhood? I do... all of the time. And then I forget about it. Today at the work potluck I remembered something about this kid I went to school with. His name is Duke Chanaban - he is Chinese - and his real name, as I found out from the Jr. High School yearbook, is Schatchai Chanaban. I'm not really sure why we called him Duke, but I guess it's better than Airport (thanks Kachee).

Anyway, Duke sat next to me in the first grade. He was a little stealer, that Duke! Except that I didn't know it was him stealing my juice boxes, Ding Dongs, sandwiches, etc. until I caught him. Fighting ensued. And what I mean by "fighting," is that I think I kicked him and told him that I hated him for stealing my Ding Dong. He kicked me back and so we were sent to Mr. Pryor's office. Mr. Pryor was rumored to be the meanest principal this side of the Mississippi. I'd heard stories of him spanking kids when they got sent to his office, and I was about to find out if it was true.

Duke and I waited outside of Mr. Pryor's office, probably still kicking each other, while the school secretary called our parents. Except that I didn't know that's what she was doing. Mr. Pryor then called us into his office. I sat there, looking up at all of his certificates and pictures on the wall, and stopped when I saw a paddle mounted above his desk with the words "The Board of Education" written on it. I was so sure he was going to spank us, and I hoped Duke would get it first. Even though corporal punishment hadn't been practiced in schools for years, we didn't know that yet because we were only 6.

Mr. Pryor walked to the other side of his desk and sat down and asked us why we had been sent to his office. I told him that I caught Duke stealing my Ding Dong and that he'd been stealing stuff from my lunch for a long time, so I kicked him. He asked Duke if that was true, and Duke said, "Yes, I took the Ding Dong... and I also took Shontel's Twinkie." Busted! Duke was gonna get it and I would be vindicated! Except that "The Board of Education" remained right where it was and never came into contact with Duke's butt. Instead, we both got a lecture on the Golden Rule and that if Duke doesn't want people to steal his stuff, then he shouldn't steal and that I shouldn't kick people if I don't want to get kicked back.

Duke and I walked back to class and as we sat there in our reading group, I plotted ways I could get back at him. The Golden Rule? In one ear and out the other, right? My time came a few weeks later when I came down with a sudden case of the stomach flu. We were standing in line to go out for lunch, when the urge to vomit hit me real bad. Duke was standing behind me in line, so I turned around and let the chunks blow all over him. He started crying, I started crying, and then all of the kids in line started crying and barfing all over each other. Wait, that's a movie. I think just Duke was crying.

Several months passed without any confrontations with Duke, when one day he got up from his chair, pushed it under the desk, stood next to me and peed his pants. When it hit the floor it splashed up onto my leg. It's a good thing I was wearing knee socks, but the pee still touched me so I started crying. Mrs. Bova, our teacher, came over and when she saw the puddle on the ground she sent one of the other students to the janitor's office, Duke to the nurse's office, and took me to the sink in the classroom to take my socks off and wash my leg. And when Duke came back, she told him he was going to trade desks with someone else.

I never exacted revenge on Duke for the peeing incident because the school year was over and we were in different 2nd grade classes. But every time I saw him on the playground I remembered his injustices. By the time 3rd grade rolled around, we'd both forgotten the whole thing. Duke and I went to the same Jr. High and High school, but I haven't thought about him since then. I wonder if he's still up to his Ding Dong stealing, pants peeing ways.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

From Facebook:

Hi,

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Bye Bye Bear Creek

I heard about this company called Shirley J the other day. Ha ha, that rhymed. Anyway, a former co-worker started working for the company recently, and opened my eyes up to a whole new world. I didn't know there was a company that made soup bases and special seasonings (and sold them in bulk), or that there was even such a thing. I only knew about that crappy Bear Creek soup mix, which does a number on my intestines... and never even tasted all that great to begin with. Enter Becky.

Shirley J makes these soup bases, like cream and cheese, and also spices for regular cooking and slow-cooker/dutch oven cooking. Since I am spice challenged (at least my husband thinks so), Shirley J is just for me. And since I don't trust my husband's method of just opening jars and throwing stuff in the pot willy-nilly, Shirley J is perfect for him. The bulk sizes are also good for your food storage needs. We're on a food storage kick in our house, and I'm looking forward to adding Shirley J to the collection. And the fact that the labels on their products look like something that came out of a Dharma Initiative hatch makes me feel confident that they will have a long shelf-life ;)

One of the other things that attracts me to Shirley J's products is that they are MSG free! I don't know about you guys, but every time I eat something with MSG in it (aka General Tsao's Chicken) I get a migraine the next day. Sometimes that migraine keeps me from doing the things I love like blogging, watching TV, spying on my neighbors, complaining about the neighbors and eating chocolate. I know with Shirley J my spying abilities will not be compromised.

I'm really excited to try the dough enhancer since I can't make bread to save my life and the soup and sauce bases. We love us some clam chowder in our house, and Campbells Extra Chunky just doesn't cut the mustard.

So now that I've got you interested, Shirley J is having an open house in their Orem store (15 East 400 North) starting March 31 and going through April 11. You can learn about the ultimate universal cooking base and other great products! They'll have cooking demonstrations, free recipes, balloons for the kids and a 10 percent discount for everyone that stops by!

If you're interested in learning more about Shirley J, you can visit the blog or the official Web site.

I'm Jenny From the Block, and I approve this message.

You're Not As Cool As I Thought

I went to a craft fair one time with my sisters, aunt, and cousins. I was having fun until this man who was selling something (and I don't even remember what it was) told me that I wasn't "cool" because I didn't buy his goods. At the time, that was the worst insult anyone could have ever given me. You see, I was in the 7th grade and coolness was all I cared about. I did things in the name of cool that I now shrink at the thought of. Aqua Net, anyone? I'm quite positive that global warming was probably caused by all of the Aqua Net being applied in the girl's bathroom at Orville Wright Junior High.

Now the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction. And I don't even care. Well, I mostly don't care. I only care when people talk using their cool, hip words and I don't know what they mean. I'm not sure whether I should just bust out with a "say what?" or pretend like I'm totally down with their lingo. I think I should just pretend that I know. There was an occasion where someone I know asked me what "get down like that" means and I couldn't explain it. I was like, "it just means, you know, to get down like that." And then I felt stupid because I knew what it meant, but I couldn't explain it in terms that this person would understand.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb right now and ask a dumb question. I hear this phrase almost daily, but I'm not really sure what it means. I kinda think I know what it means, but what I'd like to know is, what is the etymology of this phrase. I heard it on a cartoon my nephew was watching, and he's 5, so apparently I speak some archaic language since I don't know. Here's the phrase: "No Dice."

There, I asked. Please don't make fun of me. I don't get down like that.

The Truth About Hillbillies

Here's what happened with the cussing Hillbillies...

I was driving down Freedom Blvd, when out of nowhere this old, nasty truck with a bunch of branches and sticks in the back swings in front of me and then slams on its breaks. If you ever watched that show "Sanford & Son" from the 80's, this truck looked like it belonged in that show. So I have to follow this truck for a while because the cars in the other lanes are actually going the speed limit and I have to wait before I can pass.

My chance comes, so I start to pass. Of course I had to let this driver know of my disapproval and take the chance to educate him on his offense. As I looked up to give my stank eye, I saw that there were two guys in the cab, both browned and wrinkled by excessive sun exposure. They were wearing hats with beer logos on them and overalls with plaid shirts underneath. And I believe that they only had 7 teeth between the two of them. I caught the passenger's eye and proceeded to adminster the stank. I think he called my stank and raised me 2 because once I got in front of him and his buddy, they stayed on my tail. I watched them in my rear-view mirror change lanes when I did and turn when I did. Once I figured out they were following me, I thought "I can't go to my house because they may harm me there." I tried to lose them, driving erratically, changing lanes quickly, speeding up, and taking them in circles. I decided I needed to go somewhere public because I figured they would just leave me alone. I pulled into the Macey's parking lot and got a space right up in the front where there would be multiple witnesses if something were to happen.

I got out of the car and they drove by and called me a bad word. And then they drove off. I went into the store and saw my friend Donald so I stayed and talked to him for a while just to make sure they were gone. And then I figured since the bank was inside the grocery store, I might as well take care of some business there. I made good and sure that the hillbillies were gone before I came out and then high-tailed it out of there just in case they were hiding in wait for me.

Breakfast of Champions

When I was roommates with my friend Katie, we would do this thing called "Breakfast of Champions." I'd run out of the house in the morning with a Diet Coke and some Fritos and say "breakfast of champions," as I was shutting the door. And then maybe the next day she'd have some leftover pizza or something like that and she'd say "breakfast of champions," as she was eating. Somehow, my breakfast of champions always invloved Diet Coke. Anyway, gourmet food isn't exactly a priority when you're in college and only when you get older and wiser do you think to yourself, "maybe my breakfast routine shouldn't include Diet Coke and leftover take-out." I've been pretty good since then about eating actual breakfast foods for breakfast, with the exception of chocolate cake if it's available. Thank goodness those occasions are rare.

This morning I poured some wholesome Cheerios into my bowl and then remembered that I didn't buy any milk for myself at the grocery store on Saturday. I bought some whole milk for my husband, but since we are going out of town this week, I skipped buying any 1% for me. I thought about using the whole milk, but could feel my arteries clog just thinking about it, so I put my Cheerios back in the bowl and investigated the fridge for something else to eat. I saw some frosting, leftover trout from Red Lobster, cheese, ranch dressing, radishes, and potatoes, carrots and cabbage leftover from our family dinner last night. I chose the cabbage and potatoes. What was I thinking? I took one bite and changed my mind. I've eaten a lot of crappy stuff for breakfast before, but this was just too much - even for a breakfast of champions!

So I went with some Fig Newtons instead. Afterall, "they're not cookies mother, they're Newtons."

Lessons Learned

If you get cut off on the road by some Hillbillies, don't give them the stank eye when you speed up and pass them. They will follow you into the grocery store parking lot and cuss at you.

Lady, Your Door is Open!

That's what this guy said to me because my door dinger wouldn't stop dinging while I was in a drive-thru. You know, the door dinger thingy that dings when your seatbelt isn't on or the door is open. The thing is, my door was closed and my seatbelt was on. It started a few months ago whenever I would turn a corner or any weight would be put on the door. You could set the dinger off by pressing your leg against the door. I kept telling myself I was going to take it into the shop to get looked at, but 3 months later I hadn't. And then one day I was going to Wal-Mart and the dinger dinged the entire way there, even with me holding the door closed with one hand and driving with the other. I just learned to live with it, but the Robster on the other hand, didn't know that the dinger dinged incessantly, so he was in for a shock one day while he was driving my car. In case you don't remember, my car is named Uncle Jesse. I was going to say something about Uncle Jesse and his dinger, but it just doesn't sound quite right. Anyhoo, the Robster said he was going to fix it for me.
Now that's what I call a 2 cent fix! I guess the sensor just wasn't quite getting touched by the door and needed some extra height. I know it's jerry-rigged and all, but that's just about the most genius thing I've ever seen. And now the dinger doesn't ding when I turn a corner.

I can't hear what you're sayin', young lady!

Today at work I was calling TV stations to find out who their health/medicine producer was for the morning TV news shows. I call Good Morning America, they put me right through. The Today Show put me through even quicker. NBC in Dallas - not as good of an experience. An elderly gentleman answered and he spoke pretty fast, but I thought I heard "NBC and Univision" somewhere in there. So I ask him if there is a health editor or producer for the morning news and he says "I can't hear what you're sayin', young lady." So I moved the receiver a little closer to my mouth and spoke a little louder. I also tried to annunciate a little better. He still didn't understand what I was saying. So I started getting louder and he says, "are you lookin' for a health clinic?" After about the 4th time of me telling him what I wanted, I finally thought to myself that maybe I had called the wrong place so I asked "is this a TV station?" He answers, "well that's what I said in the first place, now how can I help you?" So I asked my question again and he says "young lady, I really don't know what you're talkin' about. Do you need some sort of service?" At this point I was frustrated beyong belief, so I started explaining what a producer was and he says, "oh, you wanna speak to someone in the newsroom?" Yes, I want to speak to someone in the news room. The irony in this whole story is that the client I was calling on behalf of makes hearing aids.

Courage, Confidence, Character

I was once a Girl Scout, so I feel obligated to purchase their goods when they come a knockin'. In fact, I purchased 9 of what they were selling only to find out that my husband also purchased at least that amount - maybe more. Between the two of us, we purchased around 20 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. I'm slightly embarassed by this fact. But only slightly. Because afterall, my purchase promotes financial skills such as goal setting, decision-making, customer service and money management. Now I'm just questioning who's financial skills it promotes because I pretty much blew my goal of not eating junk food, made poor decisions in only getting 3 boxes of Samoas instead of 4, and definitely didn't manage my money when I purchased $32 worth of cookies. But hey, at least I'm instilling courage, confidence and character in some little Girl Scout, somewhere. So what if I'm 32 lbs. heavier and $32 poorer.

Help a Sistah Out!

Sometimes you really need some McNuggets.

Descriptors

When I married my husband, I moved into a new neighborhood and I am still trying to get to know people. In our church congregation, we have a lot of different kinds of people of different ages, backgrounds, cultures, etc. As one guy in church said yesterday, "we have the darkest, lushest berries like myself, and the whitest of the coconut puffs in our congregation." He must have been talking about my husband when he said "whitest of the coconut puffs." Anyway, we have a lot of different people in our ward. The best way to meet people is by going to church, obviously, but also through the visiting and home teaching programs. Each month I have 2 women come visit me, and 2 men come to visit me and my husband. And in turn, I go visit 3 women each month and my husband visits 3 families. I have also been priveleged to have a visit by the Relief Society Presidency, and they told me all sorts of stuff about people in the ward. All of it good, of course, but what I noticed was the way they described people.

For instance, there is a woman in the ward who has Alzheimer's Disease. Because of this, she sits in the same seat every Sunday to avoid any confusion. That's how I know who she is because she always sits in the same spot, and always wears the same dress. I don't know why she always wears the same dress, but that's neither here nor there. So, someone was talking about her and immediately they said, "oh, you know, she's the very large woman in the ward." Another person said something about her and preluded it with, "she's the larger woman who sits in the front row." Why do people do that? Why do we always pick their most unattractive feature to describe them? All they had to say was, "she always sits in the front row," and I would have known who they were talking about.

Do we do this because sometimes the most unattractive feature is the most obvious? I wonder what people say about me. "Oh, you know, she's the one with the really narrow nose," or "she's the one with the fat arms." Since I have become aware of this, I have tried really hard to pick nice features to describe people, or to describe them by who they're related to or what they do. I don't have a solution for the problem, but I wonder what other people's experiences have been. And I know that I'm not perfect. I have been known to describe someone as "having 80s hair," and everyone knew who I was talking about. What do you guys think? Any experiences you want to share?

From Here to Eternity

I’ll admit that most of my friends have the same beliefs and values that I have. It’s not that I don’t like diversity, but when you live in Utah County, the majority of people you associate with every day are Latter-day Saints. Since I moved away from Los Angeles, I’ve lost touch with a lot of the friends I had when I was younger, and thus lost a lot of the diversity that I really enjoyed in my friends. I’ve since been finding a lot of these old friends on Facebook, and it has been really neat to see how their lives have evolved and what they’re up to these days.

One thing I have noticed is that even though we’re all very different, essentially, we want the same things in life; however, I have also noticed that they have all mentioned at one time or another that they’re terrified of dying. I am not terrified of it. Do I want to die? Not yet, but I do know that we all have a time, but that death isn’t the end of things. I am grateful for the plan that Heavenly Father has for his children to return to him, and for families to be together forever.

Last week I received the news that an acquaintance of mine had passed away. He was my age, 32, which got me thinking a lot about my own mortality. Did I really believe what I professed to?
My husband and I attended the funeral, which I don’t know if I would have since he was not a close friend, but I know his older brother quite well and I felt that I should go to show my love and support for the family. I can say that I was expecting it to be quite sad. I had never attended a funeral for a young person, so I really expected there to be weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. But what I experienced, and what I feel that others experienced, was a sense of peace of also a strengthening of my belief that death isn’t the end.

This young man died unexpectedly, and his sister said that the family still doesn’t know the scientific reason for his death. They did know that he had been experiencing a decreased lung capacity since an accident a few years ago, and that he’d had a cold and strep recently, but that they didn’t know why he passed away. She then said that the family had done a lot of prayer and meditation after his passing to try to understand why someone so young had been taken from this earth. All of his siblings and parents were able to speak at the funeral and they all expressed that they felt peace that it was just Chris’ time to go. His sister and mother read sections from his patriarchal blessing , a special blessing given in my church by a man called a Patriarch, who has been chosen and ordained to this calling. “This blessing enumerates the blessings and promises, some special, others general, to which… the person is entitled; and through his authority seals them upon him, so that they may be his forever through faithfulness” (Boyd K. Packer, October General Conference, 2002). In this young man’s blessing, he was promised that his days on the earth would be long enough for him to accomplish what he needed to do to return to his Heavenly Father with honor. He was also promised that until his work was done on the earth, he would be protected and kept safe, and that his passing from this life to the next would be peaceful. Those words gave his family comfort, and they truly know that Chris’ work on the earth was completed.

I felt, through the promptings of the Holy Ghost, that this was true. I also felt the Holy Ghost remind me that I do actually believe what I profess to. I know that God lives, and that he gave his son, Jesus Christ, to us as a Savior so that we could return to live with him one day. I also know that families can be together forever. Chris will be with his family again because of the sealing powers of the priesthood. I am very grateful to be sealed to my dear husband and that when this life is over, we, along with our children and other family members, will be together.
Not only did I leave the funeral with a peace and comfort that this life is not the end, but I felt comforted in knowing that Heavenly Father is in charge. My life is in his hands and he can and will make of me more than I ever could. I also left with a greater resolve to make every day count - to try to be the best I can be and to live as Christ did.

“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
“And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die” (John 11:25-26).

It's What I've Been Sayin' All Along

Remeber when I posted about my nail salon experiences? I saw these pictures on a blog about passive-aggressiveness, and I had to laugh because it's so funny that someone put that on their sign. It's almost like they should all say that, because if I can't get my nails professionally done by Asians, I don't want them done at all.