Sunday, February 27, 2011

Rich for Bish

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints there is no campaigning for positions or callings. There are also no elections, voting, or payment. There are only good men and women, called of God, trying their best at whatever they've been asked to do. However, a friend of mine from college always thought that if there were campaigning, "Rich for Bish" would be very catchy. I agree.

But with that qualifier, I sent an email to a woman in my ward, who's calling is to be in charge of the Young Women, letting her know that should the Spirit direct her in such a way to call me to help her with the Laurels (16-18 year-old young women) I would shout for joy at the privilege. There are a few particular girls with whom I have absolutely fallen in love and I would so enjoy the chance of watching them, and in a small part helping them, discover the incredible women they are destined to become.

I realize that my efforts at campaigning just sealed my fate at not having that calling. I think the only calling in the church for which I have seen a successful campaign was to be the nursery (children ranging from 18 months to 3 years old) leader.

I was feeling kind of sorry for myself, will I really be able to wake up at 5:20 am for the next three months and all of next year? Is this really what God expects out of me? But as I was sitting in church today, I realized that I have come to LOVE my three quirky students, such that I wonder if anyone else could love them the way I do. They are such a joy to me. But what I really love is the personal growth I have seen in myself over the past 6 months. I don't think you can immerse yourself in the scriptures (enough to teach a 50 minute lesson every weekday) and not come out on the other side with a greater testimony of our Savior and His love for His children. What a huge blessing it has been to start every morning in such a way.

So after this kind of meandering post, I just have to say to my fellow Mormons, you might think you have the best calling the Church, but try being a seminary teacher and then come talk to me. Because then you'll know what I have only recently come to know - that teaching Seminary is the best calling in the Church!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Courtside Reunion 2011

Don't you just love this picture? Eight women in all of their happy sweaty glory? I hope my dear college roommates don't hate me for posting this picture on a public blog. Can you believe that many women in one group look that good in spandex! I mean really! Three of the women pictured above recently had children. Can you tell who they are? I'm guessing probably not.

I recently had the rare privilege to spend a long weekend with these wonderful women talking, eating, getting our "butts" kicked at this intense whole body aerobics class, giggling, crying and reminiscing together. What a wonderful way to spend three+ days. The part I loved most about the trip was marveling at how amazing they all are and how lucky I am to be able to associate with such beautiful, happy, and genuinely good women. Rarely, do we have in our lives, so many positive relationships in one group. I cringe when I think about the pill I often was to my dear roommates. I was an emotional wreck half the time. Thankfully I've come SO FAR since then (wink wink). How nice of them to love me and forgive my post adolescent issues. Thank you my darling friends!

And thanks to my wonderful husband who spent 6 days sans car eating soup and bumming rides from friends so I could have this opportunity. Thank you my boy!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

FYI - Body Suits are Back

While in California visiting with my college roommates, we went into San Francisco to shop. We made it into H&M, which, while it might not be at the height of haute couture, it is definitely hipper than the shopping I don't do these days. How was I to know then that the 80's are already on the outs and the 90's are back. Case in point - see above picture. Do you remember body suits the first time they came in? I was never cool enough to have one though boy did I ever want one. It seemed like the perfect way to keep your shirt tucked in.

Now when I look at them, all I see is a big onesie. A ONESIE!! Do you see the snaps at the bottom? I couldn't stop laughing and when I saw them. I also couldn't believe that scrunchies can now be found at H&M as well. I was talking to a women about them at the airport and apparently there was a "Sex in the City" episode that said that scrunchies were only to be worn when sleeping or washing your face; they were not for wearing in public. I guess not. And apparently, according to, scrunchies have been in since mid 2009. Where have I been? Oh, that's right, in Wenatchee, Washington. Maybe, you've all had your "bodysuits and scrunchies are on their way back in?" moment, but thanks to H&M I finally had mine.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Mad Dash

To fly to CA for my college roommate reunion, I first had to drive to Philadelphia. Just no real viable options for air travel when you live in the middle of nowhere. But instead of leaving at 3:00 am, I thought it best to stay somewhere the night before and then take the hotel's shuttle to the airport in the morning. I make it to Phillie no problem, arrange for a 6:30 am shuttle for my 8:15 am flight and go to bed. The next morning I am up and at em at 5:30 am, and out to meet my shuttle by about 6:25ish. I wait outside for a few minutes, no shuttle. I ask inside, and am told my shuttle picked up someone from their sister hotel just then and will be back to get me in less than 15 minutes. Why they couldn't pick me up on their way to the airport I will never know, but they don't and I wait. Fifteen minutes go by, then twenty. I ask inside again, and am told the shuttle should be there any minute, but he would call just to make sure. By this time, there is someone else waiting outside for a 7:00 am shuttle for her 8:00 am flight. I'm am a little irritated, but mostly calm, even a little impressed by my cool approach to the experience. But surely, the shuttle will be there for my new friend's appointment. Being an hour early for my flight wis still in the realm of the acceptable. By 7:10 though we are both getting anxious. Where is this dumb shuttle? The guy working the desk eventually found out that the shuttle guy had gotten into an accident at the airport and was caught without any identification. I'm guessing it ended up being quite the to do and that is why he didn't call to let anyone know. Without shuttle service, the hotel arranges for a taxi for us, but after another 15 minutes, the taxi service still can't find someone available to come get us. At this point, it is 7:30 am. My shuttle friend has missed the window of opportunity of getting onto her flight, and I am quickly losing my own. The airport is a mile or two away, I should have walked. But I remain calm and even joke about the silliness of the situation. So impressive. Really, I am so proud of myself. Finally, another hotel's shuttle comes to get us. I am the first stop and calmly but quickly, at 7:40 am, make it to the counter where there is NO ONE in line. Hallelujah, my first break of the morning. I am so doped up on adrenaline, I have to tell someone my story, but the woman at the counter is too busy beating the deadline for checking me in, that I am left to tell anyone else around who will listen. Next step, security. Again, NO ONE in line. The Lord surely loves me, I think. I have to submit to a search, because my cups of peaches I bought as a snack for the airport do not meet airport security guidelines. They are comfiscated and I again calmly but quickly started making my way to the gate where surely the plane is already starting to board. I follow signs to what I think is my terminal, but after I step onto the moving walkway, I realize I may not be going in the right direction. Some security guards confirm my suspiscion, and I turn around and run in the opposite direction. It's amazing how much harder than expected it is to make headway going the wrong way on a moving walkway. I'm sure I looked absolutely rediculous to any passersby. I retrace my steps, finally make it to my gate, which is indeed boarding, and with time to spare, make one last bathroom stop before getting onto what will evenutally be a pleasant, even friendly, but ultimately uneventful flight. So the moral of my story, if you have to stay overnight in Philadelphia before catching an early flight, don't stay at the Extended Stay Deluxe. Spend the extra money and stay across the street at the Courtyard Marriott. They have shuttles that leave every 10 minutes.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Power in Labels

NOTE - This post may get a bit personal. I apologize in advance for any offence I may unwittingly give.

Anyone who has seen me in the last 31 years knows I am not a large person. I'm not scrawny by any means but no one would ever call me pudgy. I have definitely been blessed with my father's Booren genes. But in April of this past year, in conjunction with a whole host of other symptoms triggered by my fall into Hypothyroidism, I gained 15 pounds in about a month. This was a big deal for me. Not that I honestly looked tons different to the outside observer, I'm sure no one would have noticed if I didn't bring it to their attention. But somehow just knowing that I was 15 pounds larger than I had ever been up to that point in my life made me look at myself differently. Now fast forward to this morning when I again got on the scale and realized I was back to my pre-thyroid diagnosis weight. Despite an abysmally unhealthy December, January has been quite the opposite. I've felt sick more or less the entire month which means eating healthy (because its really the only thing that sounds remotely good), and I've actually used my fabulous Christmas present (a bike trainer that turns my pretty but dusty road bike into a useful stationary bike) remotely regularly.
So when I looked at myself in the mirror this morning (eek, naked), I saw a Sara. But then I took another look at myself post-scale and all of a sudden I saw a thin sexy Sara. Somehow in those few moments surrounding that scale, I saw myself in a whole new light. Just like I did post scale last April.
This seems to happen in other areas in my life too. Someone will say I am funny, and in a moment, I think, I am so funny, I am probably the funniest person they have ever met. Or I will watch a movie and think to myself, this fictional character has it all together. I am not leading such a fun life, ergo I am a complete failure. Too extreme?
So I am thinking that this may not be a healthy way to live life ie. based on the labels scales, society, and unhealthy comparisons to others give me. But I am hoping that somehow getting it out in the open, out in front of me will help me see this fun neurosis of mine in a truer light and I will be more capable at finding my way to the true me. No comparisons, no puffed up pride, no labels. Just Sara. And that is okay.