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Don’t comment HERE… click on this link and leave a comment. If there are 500 individual comments left, then my friend, Jose, will donate $1000 to Children’s Cancer Research Fund. Easy peasy!

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My friend, Jacqui, sent me this email today about her experience at church recently:

Today in Sacrament we listened to 6 men they wore short haircuts and white shirts with colorful ties, they smiled and joked. They looked like you and me but this was a sacrament meeting unlike any other I have ever attended and one of the most sobering times I think I shall ever experience but also one of the most spiritual times I shall ever encounter.

Within our ward boundaries we have a drug rehabilitation center called the Renaissance Ranch. People come from all over the country to attend, but all are members of the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter Days Saints. For an hour and a half our family and others listened to these men young and old confess that they were all recovering drug addicts and alcoholics.

You might think that these men were what you would consider your stereotypical drug addicts from broken homes and not very educated but they weren’t. These were men, who had been successful in their lives, who had been bishops son’s and had served missions, been sealed in the temple and had loving parents. As we listened they spoke to us of the devastation that drug addiction had played in their lives and how it has damaged their families. They spoke of what had brought them to this point and they also spoke of how the atonement was what had finally brought them home.

Our first young man spoke of how he had been in a family that looked perfect from outside but was emotionally distant within, though they attended church, they were unhappy as a family.

Our second young man from Arizona spoke of how he had served a mission, he was one of five kids and had loving parents but he also spoke of the expectations that come from being a latter day saint and how we are often given the message to be perfect and how often we are judged by those around us if we get it wrong and how we feel we sometimes cant live up to those expectations, so we live a lie. This young guy spoke of how he and his counselor wrote on a stick it note “today is the day I begin to live real.”

Are you living real? Are you happy with your life? Are you being really who you are? These were all questions he asked us. We aren’t expected to be perfect. Begin today by living real, being honest and open about what you really are.

Our third guy who spoke to us, he too had served a mission and had a good career, been married within the temple , he had a beautiful family with four children, he was sixty days clean, he had just two years ago began using drugs by the time he arrived at the renaissance ranch he was a heroin addict. He said he felt worthless till he was able to put the atonement within his life.

You see, yesterday I realized the power the atonement really has within our lives. These men told us that they had been to hell and back literally that they had done things that they were so ashamed of, that it was only through the atonement of Jesus Christ that they could stand before us and truly know they were forgiven.

Our last man who stood before us was not young, he was graying around the temples, he was older than the others, he looked like he had been here before but one thing he said touched everyone, he said “help someone around you who is struggling and help yourself in the process.”

I looked at my children today and wondered what lessons could be learnt from these men and the other recovering addicts that have passed through our ward this past year. I think the words that were spoken rang loudly in my ears; it’s okay to be you, to make mistakes. Today is the day we can all begin living real, the day we can use the Saviors atonement within our lives.

Today is the day we can look around us and realize we are all part of the same family and that when we help those around us suffering we help ourselves. I felt inspired to share this experience; it certainly made me think of what is real in my life. I hope you can for a moment ponder on what is real in your life and then if you feel someone else may benefit from reading this… PAY IT FORWARD.
Jacqui

I don’t think she meant to start an email chain by that last line. But I posted it because I thought it was a good point about being judgemental, (critical, if you will) even within our own families.

Recently, we had a family over for dinner and the husband made a comment that I found interesting. He told me, “I’m glad you talk to me.” Then he explained that he’s a friendly person and says “hi” to people who pass him. In his experience, he’s found that many women shrink away, especially if they see that he has a wedding ring. It’s as if because he’s wearing a ring, he shouldn’t talk to women other than his wife (um, what country do we live in?) or that means they’re going to have an affair. That broke my heart to think that a nice guy is getting treated that way because of a snap judgement being made. He doesn’t seem creepy or look weird – I’d understand if people were apprehensive if he were, although that wouldn’t be an acceptable excuse.

I wish more people would just be niiiice to everyone.

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All I want for Christmas is a bathroom door and insulation in the attic.

Pretty pitiful request, isn’t it?

Not diamonds or crafting items, photo gear or shoes. We are a healthy and happy family with no ‘needs’ that haven’t already been fulfilled (because, really, how many needs should we have?). I would just like a door for privacy and noise reduction. The insulation, well that’s a no brainer why I would want that… brr and cha–ching.

At dinner Friday night, we were told a story about a young family Monica knows (she helps take care of him/them) who are having some incredible hardships. Two under 3 with another on the way when dad is in an accident that leaves him paralyzed from the neck down and unable to work. He’s twenty-six and she’s twenty-three. Insurance cancels their policy, she has the baby and loses her job (I’m not sure in what order). Hopefully I’ll get their info pretty soon so those who are interested in helping their family this Christmas, and beyond, will be able to. They live in Utah.

We are blessed and I can’t complain.

UPDATE/EDIT: Monica sent me this…
I read your blog this morning. Thanks for what you said about Ben and his family. Here is a little info… Ben is a friend from Seattle. He has a 3 year old little boy named Aden. Aden is very shy, but very sweet. He likes anything to do with cars. Hailey is 2 and the cutest thing ever. She is more outgoing and often talks for her older brother. She loves kitty’s and anything girly. Ben’s wife Megan just gave birth to a new baby boy named Kurt Corey Brust after Ben’s dad that died a few months ago, and Corey is Ash’s little brother thats in Iraq. Baby Kurt is a sweet little guy. Here are a few links with more info about the family. Anyone who wants to help can email me (monica *at* brides club dot com) or they can go to Ash’s blog, and he has a donate button for a paypal account.

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Just went out to dinner with a few friends (thanks, friends) and had a marvelous time. Oh, I should start by telling you what I did YESTERDAY…

I say, let’s leave for the airport at 4:30. Ben says, it doesn’t take that long to get there so we plan to leave at 4:45 and end up leaving at 4:56. My flight (which is the last of the night) leaves at 6:20. Stuck in traffic, I keep glancing at the time as it gets past 5:20, 5:38 then 5:57. Call up Southwest and the only thing she suggests is to ask for cuts at security to catch my flight or reschedule for the morning (Tiffany and her girls are picking me up at 9:10 and my last dental appointment is 10am the next day). Get out of the car at 6:09 (oh, I should mention that I DID say a silent prayer to help me make my flight). I book it to security… lines are too bad but it’s still about 30 people and I don’t muster the courage to ask for cuts (yeah, ME). The security guy waves me through at 6:12 and I get behind a couple military boys. They’re unlacing their boots when I say that my flight is in 9 minutes and they gladly let me go ahead (and say their flight isn’t for another two hours so they have plenty of time). About to waltz through the x-ray thingy (I know it’s not an x-ray, but you know what I mean) and realize I have my hefty metal belt… rip it off in a flurry and slap it on the dealio before walking through without a beep… YAY! It’s 6:14 so I’m hurridly redressing and start hauling tail to Egypt. Because at SeaTac my gate is ALWAYS in Egypt (almost as bad as the SLC airport). The digital clocks along the way say 6:14 then 15. I have to stop running because my pants aren’t staying up (didn’t get the belt on) and I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. Yes, now is the time I’m thinking about how out of shape I am and that I should work out… someday. I’m walking as fast as I can and pounding my chest thinking that will keep my heart beating. It’s 6:16 and four minutes from take-off when I think about how they close the doors five minutes before departure. I see Egypt… it’s the round area at the end that you can never tell where the gate is for some reason. My eyes scamper around frantic to find the gate… there it is… but there are a bunch of people standing in front of it. “Excuse me, (gasp, pant, pant) is this the Southwest flight to SLC?” Yes, it is, and they’ve delayed boarding but we don’t know why. Hallyjulia!

So I make my flight, see a buddy (Steve S. who rides a chopper) and friend (Kathy G.) then use the plane restroom because I love the flush and washing my hands (but I’m not OCD, as one attendant suggested… I just like to wash my hands, especially in public). If you’ve made it this far in the story, I commend you (and you’re probably my mother), because it’s not all that interesting and I’m not trying to be creative because I need to hit the hay. But I’ll keep going.

Tiffany and the girls pick me up, we drive through Taco Hell for a Grilled Gordita (chipotle-style, whatever that means but it was good) since I missed dinner altogether and then she shows me her new art gallery on our way to her new loft in the city. I stayed there last night then she drove me to her extra car in the morning (I’m using it while I’m here, YAY). I forgot she had cats but I didn’t have a huge reaction (slight, but I’m not complaining). Her loft is SO cute and the gallery is amazing!

We’re to this morning (I had a cup of strawberry yogurt so I wouldn’t get crap stuck in my teeth). I got my 2nd set of temporary teeth off this morning then meticulously had work done to put on my six new permanent front teeth. Dr. Hillam and my dental lab tech (Hi Craig) spent more time than normal, but they made sure I have the best dang teeth on the planet. Really. I’ll post a picture sometime (although, I just realized I don’t really have “before” pics to show the comparison, but whatever). Dr. Boehme had done the gum reconstruction surgery in August that prepared my mouth for the better, newer teeth. HE did an amazing job. All-in-all, it was an amazing transformation. I’m a big smiler, so this makes me thrilled. I spent WAY more time in that dental chair than I thought but it was all worth it in the end.

Missed lunch (in the chair) and waited ’til dinner/dessert with friends at Carrabba’s. Oh, I did have a chocolate chip cookie with McKinley and Olivia, but no milk (dangit). Saw Lauri and Perry’s new baby, Jack (I’d link but I’m tired), took a gal to see our washer and dryer for sale (she purchased them), unloaded the mail THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FORWARDED TO OUR NEW ADDRESS from the mailbox, swung by the Harley shop to hug Lance (he taught the Riders Edge course at the Harley dealership) and maybe pick up a shirt for Jack and Piper (2 separate ones, of course) and started on some med’s to keep my pain at a low threshold.

So, dinner. Laurie, Monica, Tillia, Cathy, Jen and Sarah made my night fun with catching up and talking deep (mostly) and shallow (not as much). Jared was our server, as I always request (dangit it’s his last week because he’s quiting to concentrate on school — yay for school, boo for when I visit). I asked him if he’d do anything I ask… he said yes (that’s a whole ‘nother story about why he’d trust me enough to answer YES before I tell him what it is). So the owner (whom I love and is my friend) came back with the container of cinnamon and a teaspoon. See, this isn’t the first time we’ve done this. Tristan was the first then a few other servers and a hostess. We told him that it’s impossible to swallow a teaspoon of cinnamon. He said, “Oh that’s easy. I can do it,” then put it in his mouth and closed it tight. First came the wide eyes then the poof of smoke from his nostrils. Then another shocked look and another nose poof then a puff out his mouth before he bee-lined to the back for water. I guess we should check to see if that’s dangerous. So far it’s just been funny. Brenen is the one that told me about it in the first place.

Anywho, I’m beat and have a busy day tomorrow with Kristy and Phil’s wedding! Hope you didn’t mind the long and boring story of my day. Peace out.

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I’ll be in Mexico tomorrow afternoon (I get to wake up at 3am to catch my 6:15am flight).

This is the big photography workshop I’ve mentioned over the last several months with Jose Villa, Jesh de Rox and a handful of attendees. What a much needed trip with the last three months of agony in moving. I’m am THRILLED to be deep into photography for the next six days and learn from so many great people. Keep me in your thoughts that we all return safely home.

For those of you in Utah, you might feel me in your bones for about an hour starting at 9:15 during my layover to Guadalajara. On my way back on Thursday, my layover is about an hour at 10am in L.A.

Peace out.

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Know how you have those times when you feel like a chicken with its head cut off?

Well, lately I’m not sure where mine is.

I guess right before I moved until this very moment I’ve felt that way.

There’s always something to do, plan or somewhere to go. When this hits, I neglect my blog and that saddens me.

Wanting to show pictures with every post, I put off writing if I don’t have the time to get one (said “up” then realized I should find another way of saying it) prepared to upload (yeah, doesn’t sound right, does it?).

I just got back from a few days in Utah for:

1. A badly-needed hair trim. Not cut… I’m growing it out. There is a small window of opportunity to have long locks again before I’m too old to pull it off. But I was (pinches index finger toward the thumb) THIS close to messing it up today by getting an at-home color-in-a-box. I was standing in the hair color aisle at Walmart trying to figure out which one I should buy (can’t remember the last time I used a color-in-a-box). Riley answered his phone, luckily, and talked me off the roof. I was about to jump and it wasn’t gonna be pretty. He said, “Don’t do it. You need to seek professional help.” Maybe he didn’t say those words exactly, but that’s how I hear ’em and whatever it takes for me to come back from crazy is what I’m going with. Last night I contemplated going short again (I’m in the middle stage where it’s just past my shoulders but you can’t tell because it isn’t long enough to lay against my back and instead forms a dorky flip out making me look quite matronly – I don’t want to look matronly, thankyouverymuch). But, luckily, I had encouragement to stick it out. Let’s see how far I go. Update: So I started this post a couple days ago and today I got in to see a semi-professional hair artist… it was a beauty school and my gal is all of 17 and still in high school! Yikes… but she did fabulously… took FOUR hours but it’s a 100% if I were too hot for teacher (by-the-by… her instructor has a bald head with an eyeball tattoo’d on the back — if it were two he could say “I have eyes in the back of my head” but it’s just one… stumps me).
2. Lunch with some labies at Carrabba’s (Azucar, ~j, Cdub, b., Tiffayfay, Geo and Peef). Had the salmon, needed me some Omega’s, and got to participate in voodoo at the table (I contributed the materials and Geo performed the ritual… restaurant manager, Leo, had to help facilitate). Tattoo and voodoo in one and two.
3. Wicked football game of Colby’s that I spent ON THE FIELD taking pictures. So it’s the playoff’s and security is heightened. I guess the previous weeks game had some drama (as in the other teams coach stomped a pheasant to DEATH on the field; he’s been slapped with a cruelty to animals fine) so everyone was on tight alert. I had my gear and asked Colby’s dad if he thought I could get on the field to shoot a few. He doubted it but cheered me on to give it the old HS try. With my 70-200mm lens in hand, I marched up to the bouncer guys at the gate to work my magic. Well, apparently my magic preceeds me because I didn’t say a word but instantly had a field pass in hand. SCHWEEET! I said “thanks” like I’ve done this a million times (my first time) and played the part by chatting with the cops as we prepared for the national anthem. I was IN and stayed down there the whole game (except 1/2 time when I joined the fam back in the stands to show them a few shots and squeal about how much fun it was being in the middle of all the action).
4. Dinner out… went with Colby’s family to Chaddar’s for the first time. Was cool because they’ve been sued by In n’ Out Burger for copyright infringement and I’ve always wanted to know what the fuss was all about. Personally, not impressed (but I’m not impressed with INO either… give me a Fuddrucker’s anyday). But it was good company and that’s all that really matters (especially when I had Carrabba’s for lunch).
5. Shopping with my friend… okay, it was a quick trip to Walmart to find more 2.5 oz travel size Big Sexy Hair (no, I still haven’t found it in case anyone out there wants to get me the perfect give or two or three for Christmas, Hannukah or New Year’s). But being with a good friend doing something mundane is better than doing something mundane alone.
6. Getting a second set of six temporary teeth installed (I’m sure that’s not the technical term)… my front two teeth were due for replacement after 18 years of cap-tivity (harharhar) so my dentist and lab tech friends convinced me that the best way to go was to do all six to make it look more natural — I’m extremely pleased with how they’re coming along. This time I chose NOT to be sedated (note to self: ALWAYS make arrangements to be sedated) and found out my metabolism (what? I HAVE a metabolism?) is pretty high because I go through the numbing meds like they’re soft packages of Suzy Q’s cream cakes (m-m-m even though I haven’t put one to my lip in years). As I was trying to brave out the last bit of drilling, grinding and chopping so I could try and have use of my upper lip sooner than later (Bart Simpson look-alike isn’t what I’m going for), a seriously strong and quick whip of pain thrusted through my torso that hurt so bad I’d rather give birth again (and all my friends know how much I DON’T want to ever do that again). Phew… so excited that I get to endure it all again in December when I get the permanent stuff “installed.” I love my dentist(s) and lab tech. I love that I can make them all laugh too. They kept saying something about a labial something-or-other and, of course, I couldn’t help but think they were saying something else (if you don’t get it, that’s good).
7. Football uniform pictures for Colby’s folks (LOVE them) and grandfolks (they’re so VERY cool)… I swear (a lot of that going on, huh?) I have some great giggles with that kid and have the pictures to prove it. Won’t be able to edit them ’til after next week, darnit.
8. Bridals for Kristy (absolutely gorgeous girl) at a crazy hospital with her FUN mom and about-to-pop-out-a-baby-any-minute sister who I photographed two years ago at HER wedding. Hopefully I can get a few shots posted to show you before Saturday. Update: no, I won’t, because Phil can’t see them :o(
9. Dinner with Cathy (just the two of us and much needed since we hardly get the alone time anymore) at Carrabba’s that was beyond packed in the waiting area AND outside (can I just say I LOVE it when I don’t have to wait… I make a call and bing-bang-boom I’m in). We both had the tilapia special and had the privalege of being served by the BEST server there (another request)!
10. Shopping with more friends… stocking up Saturday night for Sunday dinners and laughing over butcher meat.
11. Sunday went to church and didn’t shed a tear this time. When I was there two weeks ago I was a complete basket case and couldn’t hold it in. I swore (see, more of it) this time I would try and keep my cool, and I did. I miss everyone there so very, very much. Because we didn’t have family there, they were my family. They ARE my family still. Great, NOW I’m gonna cry. Gotta get off the computer and take my mind of it.

Will do my best to get some pics for you to see soon. Peace out.

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Since moving, we’ve had the pleasure of welcoming several service people to help fix our stuff. There’s been a couple from the HVAC cleaning company (the first guy made the ducts worse, the second guy had to come re-do it all and get it cleaned up), several from the cable company (one the first time to wire but it didn’t work right so two more came out to fix what he did wrong then another inside to get the box working and yesterday another for the new box because the first one didn’t work right; did you add them up… yes, five just for our TV viewing pleasure), W/D delivery were two guys and I feel that I’m missing another fella but cannot remember where from.

Every SINGLE one of those guys reeked of cigarette smoke. As soon as I opened the door to let them in I got smacked in the face with an invisible cloud of ashtray smell that made a trail to wherever they were going and floated around them like Pigpen’s dust aura while they were here. Don’t get me wrong, every one of those guys have been very pleasant, helpful and professional (palms to the roof for the W/D main guy) and I certainly didn’t treat them any different than I would’ve if they hadn’t smelled. But, boy, as a non-smoker who doesn’t hang out in smoky environments, that stuff sure hits me like a ton o’ bricks (coincidentally, it’s actually not as bad as pumpkin guts).

Wonder where the unwritten rule is that says it’s a good idea to have employees reek when they come into our homes. Same would go for someone who had foul body odor, too much perfume or whose feet stunk so bad you couldn’t help but notice. Sometimes these things aren’t easy for someone to control (body odor), and I do not fault them if they’ve tried to un-stink themselves.

But, really, why is it OKAY (obviously it is or I wouldn’t have had EVERY ONE of my service people stink)? Has this condition been accepted for so long that it’d be next to impossible to get changed?

Maybe… when we make a request for an in-home service call we request that the employee doesn’t smell? I’ve known some smokers who don’t reek, so I don’t think it’d be fair to ask for a non-smoking employee (and wonder, in the Seattle area anyway, if it’s even a possibility that there’s a non-smoker service guy in the lot). I’m just talking about the stinky smokers, not the non-stinky ones.

And, yes, I do not smoke and have never enjoyed being around people who are smoking or who had recently smoked (so the smell lingered). Kissing a guy that smoked was gross and if I ever knew that a guy smoked before I kissed him then I wouldn’t kiss him at all.

I do not dislike smokers but I do dislike smoking.

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