Home

I made it. I'm back in good ol' Provo. And let me tell you folks, it feels good.

Upon descent into SLC, I woke up just in time to realize I knew exactly where we were: right over Utah Lake, passing by Y mountain. It was like a subconscious pull, letting me know I was home.

I feel quite fortunate to have quite a few places to call home - Virginia, where I spent most of my childhood; Maryland, with my husband and in-laws; and Utah, where I went to college and lived for the first few years of marriage.

Utah is where I met what I call my "eternal friends." These are people I'm sure that will continue to be a presence not only in this life, but definitely the next. While a few of these friends live in far away places now (like Washington State, Kansas, Indiana, San Francisco, and China), we still have a few very dear friends in Utah. These are the people that make Utah feel like home. I truly believe that home is where the heart is, and my heart is with these people in their various places. How lucky am I to be so blessed with these amazing friendships?

As US Airways flight 457 flew over Utah Valley toward SLC airport, I immediately thought of Brigham Young's quote, "This is the place." For me, right now, this IS the place. This is my place, reuniting with friends and family. I love this place, and these feelings. To be honest, I even kind of teared up a bit while looking outside my window. Have you ever felt that way about a certain place? I can't be the only one.

I'm realizing that most of my travels are either for work, or to go see friends or family. Since we've been married, Scott and I have yet to take a vacation with just the two of us to a random destination. But you know what? I'm okay with that. Actually, I'm more than okay with that. I like the feelings of being at home.

Amateur Reader II

It is that time again, folks. Here is the monthly reading round up for you (albeit short and sweet):

June was the month of memoirs. Specifically, I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced; Hands of My Father: A Hearing Boy, His Deaf Parents, and the Language of Love; and The Story of My Life: an Afghan Girl on the Other Side of the Sky.

First up, I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced.

3.5 Stars. Very quick read; most of the time you don't want to put it down because you want to know what happens to this poor girl. While quick, it is not always easy in the sense of how horrifying Nujood's situation is. My question is how much of the voice is Nujood and how much is it of the journalist, Delphine Minoui? If it is more of the journalist (which makes more sense to me), I wish she would have provided more general background information along with the present context of Yemen.

However, the writer does portray the great strength of Nujood. She is an amazing girl with an incredible life story, and definitely worth your time. 

Now, The Story of My Life: an Afghan Girl on the Other Side of the Sky.

3 out of 5 stars. According to Goodreads.com, "I liked it." And that I did. I didn't really like it, or love it for that matter, but it was better than just "okay." I don't know about you, but I love nonfiction memoirs of women from the Middle East/Asia. Their life, which for all intents and purposes IS so foreign, intrigues me. Ahmedi's particular story kind of draws out, and just like with Nujood's book, I would've liked more background and contextual writing. Sometimes, despite her tragic young life, she takes on a very selfish and whiny voice, which really bothers me. I guess she gets credit for being so raw? I don't know. I think my biggest problems are more editorial based, so I blame the editor more than anyone else here for a bad review.

Any way, despite the tragedy, I found myself laughing out loud to some of the anecdotal sentiments of moving to a new and completely foreign land. It helped move things along.

All in all, what the book did for me the most was instill a sense of gratitude for being born and raised an American. Our freedoms, pleasures, and opportunities are amazing. However, in the end, if you had to choose between Nujood and Story of My Life, I would definitely pick Nujood. Sorry, Farah. Perhaps I was a little over zealous with 3 stars? 2 star ratings just make me feel bad.

Last but not least, Hands of My Father: A Hearing Boy, His Deaf Parents, and the Language of Love.

4 out of 5. I'm almost willing to go to a solid 4.5, I liked it that much. I laughed, I cried, I got angry; you really run through the gamut of emotions with Uhlberg. He does an excellent job of painting a picture of his own emotions, caught between two worlds: child/adult, hearing/deaf. While I'm sure Uhlberg's life story it not unique, I feel like we don't read or see much about this kind of life situation.

Growing up in WWII era Brooklyn, the reader can experience Uhlberg's childhood right along with him. You feel his awkwardness when people call his father a dummy; his frustration when trying to interpret a conversation between his father and the butcher; his childish mischievousness when thinking he can get away with certain troublesome acts. What is more, you can feel the great love and respect he has for his family. Just thinking back on it, I get a lump in my throat. Uhlberg not only puts a smile on your face, but truly pulls at your heart strings, rewarding you with a delicious, filling history of a very special family of four.

Read this when you can, you won't regret it.

So, how was your month of books? Anything good?

Amateur Eater

For most who know me moderately well, they know I adore food. Free cookies in the conference room? I'm there. New restaurant? Let's try it. To be sure, I could eat all day.

With my pending trip back to the sisterland (Virginia will forever remain the motherland), I plan to focus my days around good food and good friends. This includes the following (but is certainly not limited to):
- Red Iguana in SLC; can you say mole?
- Pizzeria 712 in Orem; whatever is seasonal. Which actually means everything on the menu. Yum.
- Spicy Thai in Provo; chicken satay, Angkor Curry, Pad Thai. No worries, I'll go and probably share with a friend. Probably being the key word.
- Bombay House in Provo; naan. More naan. All the naan you can eat. Chicken tikka.
- La dolce Vita in Provo; Ana's Spinach Ravioli or Penne Alla Pesto. I can smell the bread now...
- Sp^rk in Provo; pommes frites, apple martini. Not a real one, duh. This is happy valley, people. Dry as a bone, just the way I like it.
- Nicolitalia Pizzeria in Provo; Strada di Roma and Mahgarita pizza. Again, I'm sharing, friends. Definitely sharing this time.
- The Tree Room, Sundance; If there is time. I know this should take a higher priority, but I only have a week, and this place is pricey. Sadly, I make no promises with this one.
- Communal, and this cupcake place somewhere around University Parkway and Freedom. Both new, both highly recommended from the friend with whom I will eat most of this food.

Man oh man, I haven't even eaten yet and I'm about to burst at the seams (with excitement, of course!). Plus, all of this includes a sweet reunion with my blood family and my non-blood family, AND the blessing of my brand spanking new nephew. Who could ask for more? No one. Absolutely no one, I tell you!

Of course, my goal was to lose five pounds in anticipation of this fine food fest of 2010. Alas, I've only come to GAIN a solid five since Memorial Day.

Hey, I said I really like food, remember?

Amateur Teacher

While preparing for my Relief Society lesson tomorrow, a favorite passage from an old general conference talk came to mind:

 “In the depth(s) of prayer, we may finally be led to that lonesome place where we suddenly see ourselves naked in all soberness. Gone are all the little lies of self-defense. We see ourselves in our vanities and false hopes for carnal security. We are shocked to see our many deficiencies, our lack of gratitude for the smallest things. We are now at that sacred place that seemingly only a few have courage to enter, because this is that horrible place of unquenchable pain in fire and burning. This is that place where true repentance is born… where the conversion and the rebirth of the soul are happening… where the prophets were before they were called to serve… where converts find themselves before they can have the desire to be baptized... This is the place where sanctifications and rededications and renewal of covenants are happening… where suddenly the atonement of Christ is understood and embraced… [where] the soul begins to “sing the song of redeeming love” and indestructible faith in Christ is born… we suddenly see the heavens open as we feel the full impact of the love of our Heavenly Father, which fills us with indescribable joy. With this fulfillment of love in our hearts, we will never be happy anymore just by being ourselves or living our own lives. We will not be satisfied until we have surrendered our lives into the arms of the loving Christ, and until He has become the doer of all our deeds and He has become the speaker of all our words.” - Elder F. Enzio Busche, “Truth Is the Issue,” Ensign, Nov 1993, 24

This talk was shared with me by a dear friend a couple of years ago. I highly recommend clicking the link to read the entire talk - it is amazing. When I read this, a huge lump swells inside of me, ready to burst. 

Lately my thoughts have been gravitating toward how my parents for took the leap to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints while a young couple and since then dedicate their lives to raising their children in the church. Because of their righteous decision, my life has been innumerably blessed... I have the gift of the Holy Ghost, a temple marriage, and so much more. I am grateful for the unequivocal knowledge and testimony I have of gospel principles. Without my testimony, I know my life would be completely different and incomplete. 

I strive to continually feel my Savior's love, which is always around me; I just have to be ready and willing to accept it. 

Amateur Daydreamer

I wish I was heading here soon, with Scott:

Where do you want be right now?

Amateur Bystander

Whilst running earlier this week, I was fortunate enough to run by two dead animals. At first I thought "this is not a good sign," followed by "these things come in threes; ugh, what is next?" I think the third thing may have been that a building I passed just put down fresh mulch so it smelled like poop. Good times.

Any way, a totally extraordinary event occurred to redeem all these bad omens (which made me think I may end the run with a massive heart attack and join my little animal friends). As I was finishing up by heading NE on Riva, an older Honda turned left out of the community aquatics center, across the street from yours truly. Unfortunately for the Honda family, they left their swim lesson garb on the back of their car and it flew all over road. Fortunately for the Honda family, I am a kind stranger, and always looking for a decent reason for a walk break. They turned into a nearby parking lot up the street while I gathered goggles, soaking trunks, goggles, and the like. The Honda Family man (who didn't speak very much English, I think... but donned some sweet silver braces) graciously accepted my returning of swim goods with a nod. Needless to say, I still feel pretty awesome about my completely random act of kindness. Good karma: 1; bad karma: 0. Bring it on!

On another bystander note, I saw the first fireflies of summer while walking the dog last night. All I can say is that it was magical.

So, what random acts of kindness have you committed lately? Seen any hints of summer yet?

Amateur Barker Beauty

Not only do I have a special hat, I also now have a special skirt. Meet this 65% off beauty:

First, upon leaving the house this morning, Scott tells me that I "look really pretty today."

Then our VP said that I look really classy.

THEN one of our directors said I looked so graceful, I could be one of the models on The Price Is Right.

THE PRICE IS RIGHT, PEOPLE!

Can you imagine what kind of feedback I would get if I wore BOTH the hat AND the skirt?

Actually, it would probably not be good. They really don't match at all. Dang. But make no mistake about it, I am a force with which  to be reckoned!