Mission Journal

When I look back on my life, there are two events that I have had an incredibly hard time reminiscing and reflecting on. One of these time periods was the two years I served as a missionary for the LDS church. I remember growing up and hearing that those two years would be the best in my life... That, my friends, was a bold face lie. No offense to the LDS church, or the missionary program, or anybody who was involved in my life at the time but I was simply in a very awkward stage in my life and trying to figure it all out. Trying to figure myself out as a representative for an entire religion was... well... messy. Mainly because I was a mess. Honestly, who isn't a mess to some degree while in their late teens and early twenties? Throw "questioning sexuality", and "depression" into the mix and there was me: A smile on the outside and a rollercoaster on the inside. Suffice to say, I looked back on those times with a surface-deep perspective... the less I thought about the details, the better.

With this in mind, I recently felt it was time to take the time to really remember that period in my life - to work through it and get rid of the negative energy I have associated with it. I dug my mission journal out from my box of personal items and I started reading it like a book. Not only that, but I took time to remember those moments... all of those moments of faith, hope, happiness, discouragement, optimism, and honesty. There were so many happy times; there were also a lot of non-happy times... and it was refreshing to read it all.  Because whether I liked it or not at the time, each one of those moments made me who I am today. So, nearly 10 years after those entries were written, I can finally look back on it with acceptance and realize that, yes, those two years were worth it, and even yes... those two years were great.

It has taken me nearly three months to finish because reliving many of those moments were a little exhausting... but its been completely worth it. Which leads me to my question to you: Have you ever taken time to read your own history? Many people write whether in journals, poetry, or other means, but how often to you ever take the time to sit down and revisit those thoughts? You might be surprised at the wisdom you didn't realize you possessed, but I also think you'll be amazed looking at how those moments made you into who you are.

It's November?!

Wow. It's November. Where does time go? It seems to go quicker the older I get... I've never really understood that. At any rate, many things have happened over the past few months so some catching up is in order.
First off, Happy (belated) Halloween! Halloween is also my sisters birthday, so growing up, Halloween always carried extra special meaning and cause for extra celebration. There's always going to be a part of me that wants to go all out. Surprisingly, work became incredibly demanding for both Scott and myself and I didn't get around to decorating, carving pumpkins and doing all the things I normally do for Halloween. Luckily, Scott and I were able to attend a party or two and dress up - so it's nice that, if not anything else, that was able to happen. Now, allow me to break away for a bit and speak my mind about costumes for Halloween. In fact, I live by a set of rules for Halloween costumes:

1. Stick to your race. I will never dress up as any character that is not Caucasian.There's no better way to create an awkward moment than running into a person who is actually the race you are half-assingly trying to portray.
   
2. Stick to your gender. I am pretty sure that I will not make an attractive woman and, honestly, I am not willing to find out for sure. (Plus, Scott has told me on more than one occasion that he'd break up with me if I did drag.)
3. Be unique - I will never dress up as a generic cowboy or cop. It will be incredibly specific to ensure there is no one else dressed up in a similar costume. If it's a cop, it's going to be the evil cop from Terminator 2 or one of the cops from Reno 911. If I'm going to be a cowboy, it's going to be one from actual history or Marty from Back to the Future 3... (apparently I have a thing for 90's movies - but you catch my drift.)
4. Commit to the costume. If you are dressed up as a cat, don't just buy cat ears, wear black and paint on some whiskers. There better be fur, a tail, collar and you should be holding a ball of yarn and meowing on occasion throughout the night.

The gay community and their costumes are similar to womens costumes - you can be anything you want, it just needs to be a slutty version of it. I didn't want to play into that and I didn't want to 'celebrate' the gory side of Halloween either (I don't get peoples fascination with horror - I don't enjoy it at all)
Anyway, with that in mind, I decided to be the opposite of horror and sleaze and ended up choosing Jesus. For a few reasons actually - One, I like Jesus. Two, I feel that people get so uptight about religion and spirituality and I was curious to see if people would respond positively or negatively to it. Three, with all the news recently of young gay people committing suicide, I wanted to dress as a gay-friendly version of Jesus. Beside the fact that I feel Jesus is, in fact, gay friendly, I feel like people act out their hate and intolerance in the name of religion - deciding what is right and what it wrong for people who don't share those same beliefs. I'm sick of it. So the idea of a gay man dressing up as Jesus seemed incredibly appealing. And it actually ended up being a fun costume and interesting for me because it made me think of what Jesus actually looked like. Granted, I may have gone against my first rule in costumes - I'm pretty sure Jesus was not Caucasian, I figured I was safe. Especially since every culture seems to claim Jesus in their own race.
Scott dressed up as a scientist and oddly enough, people thought we were a joint costume, being "Science and Religion". We didn't plan that, but we rolled with it once people started relating our costumes to each other. All in all, it was a fun Halloween and I am officially partied out for a good month or so.

(Picture with our friend Jacque who was Poison Ivy (of the Batman Villian variety)

Moving back, let me fill you in on the Chicago Marathon. Training for the marathon was something I stuck pretty regularly to throughout the past 9 months - especially while Scott was gone in New Jersey. I think there is something in me that is incredibly self-motivated when I am alone for an extended period of time - and maybe it's partly due to the fact that I have more time to myself to do those things. At any rate, I felt confident in my training and honestly felt that I would not only meet my time goal of 4:20:00, but would actually would surpass that time and do better than I initally expected. On one of my long runs (24 miles), however, I tweaked my knee - it was about 6 or 7 weeks before the race, so I took it easy with my following runs, took pain pills/applied mass amounts of Icy/Hot, iced my knee after runs and workouts, bought a brace and tried to do my best to take it easy. On race day, I brought my brace just in case, popped some pills and did my best.
It was a pleasant run for the first 8 miles or so before I started feeling pain in my knee - so I strapped the brace tighter and kept on. Around the mile 14, I started cramping up, so I ended up falling behind and around mile 17-18, I was cramping up so bad that I ran until I cramped up and walked until I could run again... and continued that until the end. Add to the fact that I was fighting a cold and the temperature was in the low 80's, it ended up being a rough couple of hours. 05:05:41 to be exact. I wasn't the most impressed with myself, despite my circumstances, but one I was able to sit back and realize - Yes, in fact, I did do my best. That's when I felt proud of my finish time.
Scott was adorable. When I got home, Scott had prepared a wonderful dinner of smoked barbeque chicken, pumpkin biscuits, and fried sweet potatoes - which I was only able to eat a fraction of because my body was so rocked from the race. It was all incredibly delicious and I ate mass amounts later that night. He also got me some Lush products - a bath bomb, a massage bar and some foot lotion so that I could pamper myself after the race. In addition to that, he threw a small get together with some of our close friends as a congratulatory time party for me - he made tea, coffee and, best of all, the most delicious carrot bundt cake I've ever eaten. I don't know how I got so lucky to have him as my partner, but the man sure knows how to make me feel loved.
As congratulations to myself, I signed up for my next marathon in Cincinnati in May. It is the 13th annual Flying Pig Marathon - I don't know what I was attracted to more, the fact that it was the number 13 or that it was a marathon named after flying pigs, but regardless it was a natural choice to be my next marathon. Tomorrow, I have an appointment with an orthopedic doctor (the same doctor for the Chicago Bears, apparently) who, I hope, will tell me that my knee will be strong for years to come and wish me well on my future training. I didn't want to start training for the next marathon until I got the official OK from a doctor.
All in all, things are going well. Work has been going well - the new dessert menu has been up for a few weeks now and is going pretty well. Desserts tend to sell really well initially because all of the servers are excited about the new items and then it tapers off and we sell an average amount. I feel more confident in my menu writing skills, although it is still a process that I need to get used to. Especially since the menu is not mine - it is my bosses - so my style is always trumped by her. Which is fine (for now) - she has the experience and knowledge obviously or else she would be in the position she is. But I'm looking forward to creating my own items and not worrying about it being picked apart, changed and rearranged into something that is no longer my idea. With that in mind, I am beginning to be more proactive about creating a serious plan for my own business. I want to be my own boss and am beginning to take those first steps toward making that dream a reality. More on that to follow - perhaps here, perhaps on the culinary blog...
Another thing that has been on my mind heavily lately is religion - but what's new, right? I've been reading a book called A History of God by Karen Armstrong.

It is completely fascinating. It takes the reader on a historic journey through the belief of Gods in different cultures and religions - primarily Christianity, Judaism and Islam. (Though she has also touched on historic philosophers concepts of God/a Higher Power.) I think the most fascinating thing for me was discovering more about Islam and the prophet Muhammed. I had no idea that in Islam, Allah is considered the same God shared by Christians and Jews. Similarly, I had no idea that Muslims recognize prophets of the Old Testament and Jesus as spiritual leaders and prophets of God. Also, something I love about the Islam religion is that they don't just read the words of the Koran. It is chanted in Arabic in a almost a poetic tone - to the point that it transcends someone just reciting a verse - its an experience and feeling unique to someone like me who has only read scripture like a book.
Karen Armstrong writes: "It is not a book to be read simply to acquire information. It is meant to yield a sense of the diving, and must not be read in haste... By approaching the Koran in the right way, Muslims claim that they do experience a sense of transcendence, of an ultimate reality and power that lie behind the transient and fleeting phenomena of the mundane world. Reading the Koran is therefore a spiritual discipline, which Christians may find difficult to understand because they do not have a sacred language, in the way that Hebrew, Sanskrit and Arabic are sacred to Jews, Hindus and Muslims."
It is so fascinating to me. I actually looked up people reciting the Koran - it is an experience. Check this out.

This is performed by Mr.Amin Pouya from Iran at the International Quran Competitions held at Calicut, India in August 2006. (The reviews of this say that 4:30 - 5:00 in the video is the most emotional/wonderful - so check that out especially.)
It has been so wonderful to learn more about Islam and the beliefs of Muslims - the only information I've really acquired up to this point is the negative press in the media. Which, let's be honest, I never believed. I hardly believe anything the media says, especially if it is casting a negative light on an entire culture.
Another thing that I've been really into lately is a weekly program on NPR entitled On Being, hosted by Krista Tippett. It is a fascinating program that focuses on faith, humanity, beliefs, culture, spirituality and ethics... each week features something new and enlightening. I can't get enough of it. You are able to listen to/download any of their programs for free on their website - which I strongly encourage anyone to do. If you are interested in this sort of thing - I simply love it.
At any rate, it is time to throw in the towel for the night. I am going in early to work tomorrow so I can make it to my appointment with the orthopedic doctor, followed by getting my vote on. Oh, Illinois politicians... who is the least corrupt that I should vote for? That is the question...

Until next time!

It's Oh So Quiet

The apartment is so quiet right now. I guess I've grown accustom to hearing Scott listening to opera scenes on youtube or hearing him perfecting a piece that he's learning for one of his upcoming roles. But he is in transit to Princeton, New Jersey for the next two months for a summer program. I know he's going to be incredibly busy and I know I am going to be incredibly busy with my work - but here I am at day one and I already miss hearing him in the other room. It's something I'm sure I will get used to over time - The opera world seems to be incredibly transient with going from place to place for weeks to months at a time. I should've prefaced that with a "If you're good, the opera world seems to be transient"... And Scott is. He may be just starting out his professional career, but it's only a matter of time before he is singing all over the world, selling out opera theaters, getting standing ovations and such. I'll look back on this time and think "Wow. I had a hard time with him being gone for two months? Bitch, please." or something along those lines. Above it all, however, I am so proud of him. I have no doubt he's going to do (and be) amazing.

Aside from that, I had the entire day off - to myself. This past month was insane with looking for a new apartment, Scott's recital, Scott's graduation, people visiting from town every weekend for 4 weeks straight, wedding cakes and prom events at the hotel, being sick for a good 2 weeks (thanks to allergies I didn't know I had) - I feel like I've hardly had time to sit and breathe - and suddenly, there is a calm silence in the apartment and I can't help but feel like I should be running somewhere or doing something specific. But instead, after an emotional goodbye early this morning, I went back to sleep (and slept in), I took time making breakfast, I did yoga, went for an hour run along Lakeshore Drive, spend some time with kitty - just took time to enjoy myself again. I have plans this evening to research some things for a project at work, as well as research for my new blog www.pastrymelioration.blogspot.com. This blog was created with the thought that I fully intend to take my career to the next level and learn all I can to be the best - because, let's be real, it's inevitable that I'm going to be incredibly successful. I look quiet and soft-spoken, but I am ambitious and determined to constantly be better than I am. So, with that in mind, I realized recently that there are things in my career I need to work on, and I'm going to track those goals, lessons, and thoughts on that blog. Read it if you'd like, shout out some ideas/comments from time to time and we'll all have a splendid time learning something together.

All in all, the update is this: Things are going really well. I am getting back into my marathon training (there was a decent pause due to... well... the month of May [see previous paragraph]); the career is going incredibly well, especially with the wedding season already in full swing; We (Scott, myself and our roommate Jess) renewed our lease and are staying in our apartment for another year (thus, eliminating the stress of moving); Truly, I expect some great things to happen this summer.

One thing that was incredible (that I unfortunately missed due to being here in Chicago) was a golf tournament/silent auction that T and Zac set up in honor of Sadie, that benefitted 'The Cure Starts Now' chapter in Utah. The updates that I've been seeing from Sadies blog (sadiehuish.blogspot.com) as well as T's facebook have been showing that the event was a huge success. It is so exciting to hear about.

June is bound to be a very special/emotional month - I do look back on memories from last year fondly, but it was just such an awful situation to be going through and my heart aches when I think of Sadie being gone for an entire year. It is still so unbelieveable. One of many things I gained from being back in Utah last year was being grateful for each moment and taking advantage of it - that has definitely played heavily into my daily life.

More updates are sure to follow - especially with all this extra free time on my hands. :)

Food to me

I’ve been meaning for a while now to update my blog with all the things that have happened recently. At any rate, many things have happened and as I look back, there has continued to be a continual positive change as time progresses. I still love work completely – I wake up every morning with a mix of excitement and a tinge of anxiety for what the day will hold. Usually I learn something new every day – whether its creating something I’ve never had the chance to in the past, or having an opportunity to refine a skill I already have or discovering away to make something good into something great. My boss continues to push me and encourages me to expand my horizons and strive for perfection. I appreciated it at first with a sense of respect, but now I demand it of myself. Good enough simply isn’t good enough anymore and I love that I’ve gotten to that point already in my career. As a result I expect incredible things from myself and I know I’ll accomplish it by being where I am.

I mentioned before on the blog that one of the hard things for me with creating the menu for this past season was flavor profiling and creating items – in truth, I still struggle with that, but I appreciate the challenge. Something that has helped was a book that was recommended to me by a co-worker entitled Not for Bread Alone – Writers on food, wine and the art of eating (Daniel Halpern). It is a collection of some of the greatest minds in culinary on their experiences with food, how it affects them, their origins with it, their ideas of the future of it and so on. It really got me thinking about my origins of food and where my love of food began.

I can remember looking forward to my mom doing wedding cakes, which meant I'd be taking scraps of wedding cake from a giant plastic bowl and dipping it in the other large bowl filled with white butter cream; I remember my mom making a delicious almond plum tart in a sheet pan and eating so much of it that I made myself sick (and I’d usually eat it row by row instead of piece by piece so no one knew that I was taking as much as I was – my idea of being clever… something I still tend to do when Scott makes cookie bars); I remember my best friend and I making birthday cakes for each other with the most random flavors (Do you remember when boxed cakes had tropical flavors, like kiwi?); I remember making caramel corn with my siblings from a kids cookbook that we used so many times the pages stuck together; I remember pistachio pudding (with mini marshmallows) feeling like a luxury; I remember completely disregarding the great things my mom had planted in the back – tromping through raspberry bushes, hating the plumb trees because of how they smelled when the fruit fell and rotted on the ground, playing batting practice with the not quite ripe green apples in the large tree – never really making the connection between the things that were growing in the back were actually edible and delicious.

I can never quite recall my mom making meals – since my dad passed away when I was really young, she would spend most of her time at work or school and I can vividly remember eating out a lot. Taco Time was a favorite spot and reminds me of mom simply because we would make journeys there if only for large Cokes with the pebble ice. Likewise, Sunday traditions would include getting donuts from Winchells and later on grabbing a bucket of KFC and either going for a Sunday drive or spending time together in my Mom’s room watching TV. And to this day, I still feel like a McDonalds Coke will cure anything.

My siblings can probably remember a time when my mom would cook regularly but, aside from her wedding cakes, I simply do not. And it’s nothing against her in any way because I know she was incredibly busy and was truly doing all she could do – I mean, after work and school, coming home to cook a meal for 5 people probably didn’t seem like the most practical. I feel ashamed to say it, but I hated bringing a lunch to school – and Mom always packed one for me despite all she was doing. I know she was doing the best she could, but I remember on a number of occasions eating PB&J sandwiches on hamburger buns, an apple and crumbly potato chips and I was so embarrassed to eat it front of people. It seems so silly now to look back on and especially now that money can be tight for me at times, so I improvise in random ways like she did. But I also remember my initial or nickname always being on the brown paper sack with a smile – and sometimes she would even include a note just to say she loved me and to do well in school. (I think I still have a lot of those notes in a box somewhere – even at 7 or 8, I thought it was the sweetest thing ever.)

It’s pretty interesting how our lives connect with food – I mean, really, you spend 3 times a day (hopefully) devoting time specifically to nourishing yourself and more often than not, enjoying that food with someone you love &/or doing something you enjoy. Food is directly connected to love and pleasure. I encourage anyone reading this to really look back on your life and think about your memories of food – it’s actually quite an experience.

This entry took a completely different route than anticipated – there is still so much to say, but apparently this needed to be said at this time.

Speaking of food – it is definitely dinner time.

Moving back.

After weeks of interviewing, stressing, praying, thinking positively and attempting to distract myself, I found out last Friday afternoon that I got the pastry position at the Marriott in downtown Chicago. It is quite literally a dream come true.

Honestly, I felt very positively about the whole experience to the point that I initially gave Harmon's my notice without knowing for sure if I got the position at the Marriott. I don't know if you've read 'The Secret' or know much about the law of attraction, but I feel like I was thinking along those lines the entire time. At any rate, my last day was supposed to be last Saturday - but given the fact that I found out for sure that I got the position on Friday, I asked if I could stay at Harmon's another week. Gratefully, they obliged. Little did I know that this week would entail continual drama with scheduling, lack of proper management in the bakery, associates calling in sick, etc. to the point that I will be working everyday until my last day. Quite the way to spend my last week in Utah.

Today I finally buckled down to get things ready for the move. I've been packing things in boxes, making mix C.D.'s for the road trip, canceling memberships here in Utah and getting my car checked. I would like to see more of my family and friends, but it seems like life is going on as normal - busy, hectic lives. Me included. As much as I would love to see certain people, I'm almost sure it isn't going to happen. It is unfortunate because I don't really know at this point when I'll be back to Utah to visit. I know the holidays are incredibly busy for the hotel I'll be working for, which means being back here will more than likely be out of the question.

I imagine that I'll be back around this time again next year. For those of you who don't know, my dad passed away on August 1, 1987. Since then, our family has made it a point to be together on that day every year after - initially going to the grave site together and reminiscing. But as time has progressed and our lives become more involved with personal families, work and commitments, we tend to try to set that say aside to simply be together as a family. Such was the case this year. My mom, my siblings (and their families) and I got together at my sister Heather's house for a barbecue. We ended up talking, playing PIG (basketball), hanging out, catching up, looking at old pictures and simply spending quality time with each other. I think this year was definitely more emotional and impacted us more because of Sadie's recent passing - but I think that, in part, made the day (and our being together) more special. With that in mind, I imagine the tradition will continue and I will be in Utah on the first of August from here on out. So while Utah hasn't seen the last of me, it will more than likely be a while before I'm back.

I won't lie - moving back is bittersweet. Definitely very sweet to be with Scott, in my apartment, working at my dream job (... can't get much better than that actually...) but at the same time, the experiences I've had and the time I've spent here have deeply influenced me. Definitely things I can apply to my life in Chicago, but I suppose all aspects of life worth living for involve some sort of challenge. In this case, leaving my family after a time that brought us closer and our relationships deeper than I ever imagined, leaving friends who truly went beyond any definition of friendship I could've envisioned, and once again, leaving comfort and familiarity to try something new and challenging. At the same time, the support that I've received from my family and friends, while bittersweet for them as well, has given me a great deal of strength to not only pursue my dream but obtain it and become successful with it.

I'm excited to see where this road takes me...

A life lesson

The desire to express my emotion through writing comes at the strangest moments - when I'm driving to work, while I'm running - usually never when I'm sitting in my room with nothing pressing to take care of. As luck would have it, I am in my room tonight with nothing pressing to take care of and I felt the need to write. I am jumping at the chance.

My last entry was a couple of weeks ago in anticipation for my visit back to Chicago to see Scott for his birthday. It was an amazing trip - it was so great to be with Scott, simply being together doing the everyday things we would normally do. I had a tremendously hard time coming back - in the last few hours we were together (and hours preceding), tears fell consistently and I wondered what might happen if I 'accidentally' missed my plane.

Well, the weeks since that trip have been short, but the tears have continued to fall for different reasons. If you are reading my blog, I can almost certainly wager you have been visiting my sisters blog as well. It is heartbreaking to read her words and to know what she and that beautiful family are going through. I tend to read her entries and feel like this experience is a gut-wrenching story that has no connection to me whatsoever. Like it's simply one of those Lifetime stories you allow yourself to cry with while you watch it and then the T.V. turns off afterward and you move on. But the truth of the matter is that this is my niece who is dying and this is my sister who is facing a situation no parent should ever have to face.

I've been trying to go over there when I can to at least help out with Olivia and Sam so that T and Zac can focus more attention on Sadie and her needs. The one thing I can say about ours and Zacs family that I truly admire is that no matter how much Sadie's condition regresses, our family adapts to those changes and works through them - still knowing that Sadie is just as intelligent and gifted as always. The same goes for Sadie - no matter what physical challenges she faces, she still smiles and laughs and meets those challenges head on. It is inspiring.

Recently, I've been talking to my friend Caitlin what I've been feeling and I told her how work, while draining me physically, has been a perfect distraction from the situation my family is facing and me being away from Scott. She replied by telling me Harmon's is a big building called Denial. I laughed - but agreed. Since then however, I've noticed a parallel between the lives of those around me lately at work. Here are a few examples of situations that my co-workers have faced recently:
Surgery to remove prostate cancer; the death of a father to Alzheimers Disease; the death of a boyfriend, whom my co-worker had been dating for over a year; the death of a brother-in-law to colon cancer. And while all of these situations are completely horrible, they have all learned from these situations and have shared their wisdom to me - whether they realize it or not. Mainly, to truly live life while you have it; to take time to own your emotions, no matter what it is; to love those you care about unconditionally while you have them in your lives; and to remember the achievements of ones life, not focus on their death. I know that just looking at these people on the surface, you'd never have imagined these challenges they've faced - But they are making it through. And as much as I can't comprehend what the next few weeks may hold, I hope I'm able to follow the examples of those people during this difficult time.

Dad and Death

The other day when I was leaving the gym, I decided to go visit my dad's grave. It's placed in a large cemetery off of Redwood Road and where my dad is buried has an incredible view of the mountains and the Salt Lake Valley. I've been there a few times since I've been back and I can't help but feel a mixture of emotion every time I go there. For those who don't know, my dad passed away after a battle with cancer when I was 4 years old - so some of my earliest memories are of visiting my dad at the cemetery. As I got older, I think part of me resented the fact that the only personal relationship I ever really had with my father was starting down at his bronze weather-worn grave marker. And for a while, I didn't go. I feel for many people, they avoid cemeteries because of negative emotions or because they don't feel the spirit of the person is still there. I think for me both of those reasons were definitely the case - I resented that place.

So it's been interesting for me to be back recently to visit his grave. I feel I've grown tremendously spiritually over the years and while I do feel close to my father spiritually, I've grown to enjoy visiting him. It may seem strange for people who haven't lost a close loved one, but I'm unashamed to say that when I go there, I will sit on the grass, clean the grave marker up a bit and talk to him about everything that is going on my life.

It was peculiar to me this last time I visited him though. I noticed from a distance that a mother was walking around the cemetery with her two children. They didn't seem sad and didn't seem to be looking for any specific grave site - they were just walking around looking at different ones. I heard one of the younger kids call out that he saw a grave site for a baby - and it made me remember when I was younger, walking around the different graves, trying to do the math in my head of how old someone was when they had passed away. Or when my family and I would go to visit my dad's grave and see an area that had just been relayered with sawd because someone had just been buried there - and show our respect by walking around it and not over it. Or when my family would bring flowers to my dad's grave and just sit and talk to each other, strengthening our relationships with each other. And I guess that's when it hit me that the idea of death has been something I had learned to accept at a very young age - And it made me wonder if these kids at the cemetery were in the process of learning it too. It was beautiful that day - sunny, warm breeze, lovely view of the valley - it made me realize that death and learning to accept it can actually be quite beautiful as well.

A little story

It's time for a little story. It's a stunning tale about a young man who had recently moved to a big city with the person he loves beyond words. Times were difficult, but somehow they made it work and life was surprisingly happy through it all. One day, the young man felt a strong desire to go back to the land from which he came from - and he wasn't sure why. So pushing feelings aside, he continued to work whenever he could and lived life the best he knew how. Not too far after, he had a feeling to return to the land from which he came from again. He, being a person who relied heavily on what he felt in his heart, recognized the feeling again and took it more seriously. Despite his recent move to a big city with the person he loved so much, he made preparations to move back to the land where he came from - not knowing exactly why, but feeling strongly that it was right.

Is it an interesting story? I'm trying to see if the situation I'm currently facing makes more sense when I look at it in this light. The story I just explained is something I've been facing over the last month or so. But let me tell you a little bit more.

Truth be told, times are hard. Work at the hotel is sporadic and I've been filling my time with cleaning the apartment, running, reading and baking. Scott has been busy with school and aside from this past weekend where we had the pleasure of entertaining guests at our home, we rarely see each other outside of the evenings when he comes home from school. So when the initial idea of heading home came to my mind, I felt it was more of an escapist idea. It seemed too convenient to go back to Utah where I was making more money, where I was completely comfortable with life, and where I was around family (especially given the time frame with Sadie and her battle with cancer) - so I pushed it out of my mind. Why? Because I feel at home here in Chicago. Scott and I have started our lives from scratch here and while it is difficult, I'm happy with where we are and how we've grown just in the few months we've been here. It's really something quite beautiful and I didn't feel any quick desire to abandon that. So I pushed the feelings to go back to Utah aside. It didn't seem logical.

With my time off of work, I've been trying to develop myself spiritually. I've felt that it is something that I've been lacking lately, so I had been researching and studying scripture, meditating and praying, trying to develop a greater relationship with God, trying to understand chakras further, trying to be more in tune to my higher self, and I've even been reading quite a bit on animal guides and Shamanism. So with that in mind, when the feeling to go back to Utah came again a few weeks later, I listened to it more thoroughly. I began to think about stories in the Bible where God was calling various people and how they either listened right away or if it took a few different calls for them to take notice. I wondered if this could be similar. It posed the question - If God called on me would I recognize it? Truth be told, it scared me to think of heading back to Utah. When I sat down and really thought about it, I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave Scott behind with the life we had created here in Chicago.

So I called a dear friend who I relate to in many different ways - one of which is spiritually. She asked me questions trying to dive further into what the reasoning might be for going back to Utah, offered suggestions, words of encouragement and told me to meditate about it. So I did and felt very strongly that it is something I should do. I think the most interesting thing about all this is how incredibly understanding everyone had been about this. Scott is completely supportive (despite the fact that I don't know how long I'll be there) and is planning on helping me drive across the country back to Utah. My brother and his beautiful wife and family have offered a place for me to stay while I'm there and my work here in Chicago expressed their support for me to do what I need to do and guarantees me a job there again when I return. I think the fact that the support for me in this execution of the moving back to Utah is a sign in itself that it's what I should be doing.

So despite that plans are set to go (I should be back in Utah by March 16), I still feel a deep pit in my stomach at the thought of leaving Scott for an extended period of time. It's been such a great experience to be in a city on our own and to grow together. I really feel that our relationship has been strengthened tremendously by our choice to move here to Chicago and the idea of leaving, even for just a little while, is so hard to think about. So while I realize that we still have two weeks together before I leave, I've found that little kisses when he gets home or sleeping next to him at night mean so much more.

Also, those who know me and my family well may realize that yesterday was the year mark of Sadie's diagnosis - I strongly urge you to check out the entry my sister did on Sadie's blog (link on the side). Her strength is so amazing that it brings me to tears. As for me and my words, I have nothing profound to say. I only know that seeing my niece defy odds and to see her live her life with purpose despite her struggles gives me such strength and faith. Not only her, but to see my sister, someone whom I have always looked up to in so many different ways, battle this situation with such courage, strength and love is inspiring. They have taught me to live life more fully and to not take any moment, no matter how large or small, for granted.

So, that is my story for now. A work in progress, if you will...

Mid-February Ramble

As I'm beginning this, I'm realizing that I don't have much to say... I just feel like I need to write. So here I am. (That is the only warning you guys are going to get... if I end up on some tangent and type out senseless babble for the next little while, consider yourself warned.)

Things are going well here in Chicago. This week was good for work - I ended up getting a few shifts (lately, I've been averaging about 2-3 shifts per week). When the dramatic decline in work shifts began, I was so upset - but now I am just grateful to have a job and to have any shifts at all. There were a few lay-offs at work and in my field, open positions are scarce. That being said, I've been keeping my eye out for positions elsewhere - either for a part-time job or full-time if they can guarantee hours. Gratefully, I got a call back this past week for a position in the bakery of Treasure Island (a upscale grocery store here - although I keep thinking Vegas whenever I say the name). I'll be calling them this coming week to set up an interview and hopefully start soon so I can have a more steady income coming in. Time's are hard, but you do what you gotta do, right? I feel like things are going to work out great though - I figure it's just a matter of time.

I know this may sound a bit strange, but I feel like this whole gap in my work schedule and all this down time is meant to be for my benefit. I don't think I've ever had this much time to be so reflective on life, my ideas, my plans, my beliefs. And, here's the interesting part, I feel like I have something to learn - but I'm not sure what quite yet. Yes, money is tight - and I imagine it will be substantially tighter as the lack of shifts at the Westin progress, but so far, it's worked out. So, we'll see...

Family in Utah is doing great as far as I can tell - I get random updates from my mom throughout the week. She is hilarious - she knows all of my siblings business (and my own, of course) and then takes it upon herself to update everyone of the kids of the others business. That may be the case for most families, but it never ceases to crack me up. It's to the point that whenever I talk to my brother or sisters, we can pick up our conversation without doing catching up.
Side Story: For Valentines Day, I wanted to get Scott flowers, but flowers die and Scott is more horticultural than most people I know - so I figured we should get a plant for the apartment. We ended up going to Lowe's to do our plant searching and it was the exact same layout as the one in Utah that Scott and I would go to when we lived downtown. I guess we were in there for a while because when we went outside again, I expected the large Wal-mart on 1300 South to be across the street. When it finally clicked that I was in Chicago, I felt like I'd been sucker punched with homesickness. Moments like that don't happen very often so it took me a bit off guard (and I was fine soon after), but there are still moments I miss being in Salt Lake City - the closeness to family, the familiarity, etc.
So - circling back around, I appreciate my dear mom. She keeps me so up-to-date with how everything is, I almost feel like I'm there. I don't talk much to my siblings - my sister is a mother of 6; my other sister is a mother of 3 and has extra demands with Sadie's condition; and my brother and his wife both work full-time and raise 2 kids - so their lives are all incredibly busy. But I miss them all terribly. I can't say that I'd see them any more than I do now if I was back in Utah with how hectic our lives can all be, but the emotion is still there.

Anyway, yesterday was Valentines Day - and I'll admit, I've always been one of those people who despise the day. If not for anything else, for the blatant commercialism and the expectation that you need to buy things for the one you love to prove you love them. That being said, I think Scott and I went a little overboard this year with Valentines - he gave me some great gifts, including a new Walkman MP3 player - I gave him some gifts, we made breakfast together, I met him downtown after his shift with a rose (so everyone would know that the hot guy working at the Gap is taken...), he made some delicious alfredo with scallops, I made a red-velvet cake with cinnamon buttercream frosting and we watched a romantic gay comedy (naturally). So - while I had never been a fan of Valentines before, I have been converted to the idea that a day of love is worth indulging in. Especially when I have someone who, after two years, still makes me smile for no reason at all and my heart jump.

To close, I wanted to share a few pictures from a couple runs I did around the city. Lately, I've discovered the thrill of running in cold weather. It sounds so strange, but it is so exhilarating to run in snow and be motivated by nothing else but the fact you need to move or freeze. So, that being said, these pictures were taken from my camera phone and are from two different runs and two different areas along the coast of Lake Michigan.

Facebook

Today is the first day off I've had in about 7 days. Needless to say, I've done a lot of nothing. Ok, I take that back. I did about 5 loads of laundry - but how hard is it to put clothes in a machine and walk away? Seriously. I did spend a lot of time online for many different purposes - work related, downloading music, researching different things, etc. But one thing that has stuck out in my mind today is Facebook. I didn't realize how many people have a facebook account - which is actually a very fascinating thing to me. I've found in my life that I am very much like a book. I feel that there have been many chapters in my life and feel I'll have many more - but I find that when I move to a new chapter in my life (now for instance is Chicago) I leave the previous chapters behind - thinking of them fondly, but leaving them in the past. With Facebook, however, I have friends from (literally) every chapter in my life. Old friends I grew up with, members of the ward I grew up in, people from middle and high school, people from the mission, when I lived in Las Vegas, people here in Chicago - I feel like every chapter in my life has suddenly mashed into one. I no longer wonder what people have been up to over the past 10 years because I get a constant news feed on them. I'm not sure yet if I consider this a good thing or a bad thing... I always felt like my life had a sense of mystery - as though every person I knew had a piece of the puzzle of who I am, but didn't know me completely. Now most all of the people who holds these pieces are together in one spot and I feel... open? naked? not mysterious at all? I'm not sure what word or description I'm looking for, but it's just a bazaar feeling. Am I the only one who feels this? Odds are that anyone who reads this has a facebook account - is it just weird for you to have so many people from your past in your present?

reflections on friendships

There is a stretch of road while I drive to work that runs through a wooded park... I was on my home today and realized what an array of color there was in the trees - I love autumn... It's nice to see everything so rustic and colorful - and also nice to have it a little cooler. Word from my family says that Utah has seen snow a couple times already - thank godfully, I have not. I still have time to enjoy the scenery for a few more weeks.

Work is busy - hence, my lack of writing. I've also been doing quite a bit of self-reflection lately - Hell, I always do - but this has involved thinking about my past, experiences with school, experiences with friends, relationships I've built - some I've held on to and some I've let slip away. I don't know if you guys have gotten that e-mail that puts friendships in terms or being there for a reason, a season, or lifetime friends... I know I've gotten it at least 5 times - if you haven't, let me know and I'll send it to you. Anyway, I haven't read the e-mail for a while, but randomly at work, the words popped in my mind and I got thinking about my friendships that I've had throughout my life. I feel that I have been an unconditional friend to many and there have been quite a few who have taken advantage of that. But more importantly, there are an incredible few that have been completely unconditional in return. Then I thought of those who were in my life for a reason and haven't been in my life since. Then I thought of those friends who were in my life through different stages - in high school, or on my mission, or in Las Vegas. And while I think of these friends fondly, I really don't expect them to call me and I have no intention on calling them. Long story short, I ended up deleting my myspace account because I had a giant list of friends who, while I love and have experienced so much with, were there for a specific reason in my life or at a time in my life that I've evolved from. For example, I have some dear friends who I met while I was a missionary - and for a while I did all I could to keep in contact... but as I have changed from a faithful LDS missionary to a pastry chef living with his boyfriend in Chicago, I found I don't have the connection I once did. I'm just not sure anymore if I should make a strong effort to keep something alive that I no longer really recognize... Any thoughts?

Mara Adams

Yesterday I heard news from my Mom that Mara Adams, my niece Sadie's friend and fellow fighter of DIPG, passed away. I don't think I can express how much I despise the disease that my niece is fighting and Mara bravely fought. Profane words aren't powerful enough to express the anger and tears shed aren't enough to express the gut wrenching pain. It hits hard for me because, although I didn't know their family personally, I know what their family is going through. Being hundreds of miles away, I rely solely on communication through phone or internet simply because there is no way to be there physically... so I tend to hide in my work or keep myself busy to stay distracted. Such was the case yesterday when I heard the news of Mara. Tonight, however, I looked at Mara's blog which gave an account of her heroic battle with DIPG and I came across a picture that was taken a few weeks ago. It shows Mara at the hospital, smiling. She had just written on a chalkboard simply, 'Mara was here'. It made me smile... And for some reason, I was alright with everything. It's so amazing to me that these small children, who are dealt such a difficult card in their life are able to learn to live with their struggle without complaining and still enjoy life to the fullest. And with wonderful organizations like the Make-A-Wish Foundation and other countless organizations, fundraisers and community involvement, these kids bring hundreds of people together in the act of love and service. These kids live more and accomplish such a great deal in their short 5 or 6 years than many people do who live a long healthy life. To Sadie, Mara and many other countless kids who are or have faced this battle, thank you for giving me someone to truly look up to.

Reflection and Rand

I was making dinner tonight and I realized that I needed some things at the market down the street - so I walked there and picked up what I needed and started on my way home. Then something in side my mind just clicked on and said "You live in Chicago." You know how you make choices in life, but it doesn't really click until later? I just find it interesting that if I had never met Scott, I would never be experiencing this. 5 years ago, Chicago was simply one of many major cities in the U.S. that I had never been to... and now, I live here. It made me smile to think about and I'm proud of myself (and Scott) that we have made the choice to be here. Sure there have been some struggles getting started - but I really feel some good things are going to happen soon.

In other news, I have been reading Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand while riding the train to and from work. I love Ayn Rand's style. I read Anthem and nearly cried - and I am very much into this book as well. I am the type of person who reads books and underlines poignant phrases or sentences that stick out to me. Blame it on the fact that I was once a missionary who highlighted his scriptures heavily whenever I felt prompted to (which resulted in a very colorful set of scriptures) but here are some of the lines of Atlas Shrugged that has stuck out to me recently.

"He decided that pain was not a valid reason for stopping"

"Words were a lens to focus one's mind..."

"If joy is the aim and the core of existence, she thought, as if that which has the power to give one joy is always guarded as one's deepest secret, then they had seen each other naked in that moment."

"'Francisco, what's the most depraved type of human being?'
'The man without purpose.'"

"No matter how good you are, I'll expect you to wring everything you've got, trying to be still better. and when you've work yourself out to reach a goal, I'll expect you to start for another"

*Sigh* Now that I have time in between home and work, I've rediscovered my love for reading.That being said, once I'm done with Atlas Shrugged (which may take a little bit, being it is 1069 pages...) I'd like to read some of your favorites. So, please, leave a comment for me with your favorite books of all time and why you like them so much.

25

It will be my 25th birthday in ten minutes. I guess there’s something that is anticipating this day more than any of my previous birthdays - I’ve let go of expectations of people recognizing that it is my birthday and I don’t really want or need anything. So what I’m left with is my thoughts and my personal opinion that I should celebrate my own life by reflection of where I’ve been and contemplating on my expectations for the future. I think 25 is a very good age for that… For someone who is a quarter-century old, I think I’m at a good spot to know, at the very least, who I’m not - and as a result, I can more clearly define who I am and what I expect out of life.

It’s 12:00 - Happy Birthday me.

I believe that everyone has a brilliant biography that contains thousands of stories and lessons learned and no one will ever hear it. My story is no exception - there are people in my life who know many aspects of who I am and where I’ve been… But no one who knows everything except me. And my story is brilliant and beautiful. Tragic and compelling. Filled with compassion and sincere love. But I can honestly say that I’ve spent more time over these past 25 years looking back than I have been looking forward. I’ve always seemed to reflect on the past and dwell there - learning as much as I could about why it happened and what was the lesson to be learned. And I think that is a great thing, to a point.

So I am planning for this next year (and for the twenty-five years after) to continue to learn lifes little lessons, but to spend more time looking forward than looking back.


So - here's a toast to being 25 and a work in progress...