"Faaaaashion Show!"

I frequent The DI.
People make fun of me for calling it "'The' DI" because apparently it's just "DI" [for Deseret Industries], but I think saying; "Oh, not up to much, just going to DI later today" sounds grammatically incorrect, so THE it is!
For those of you who are not a part of the Mormon Cheapster Culture; The DI is a church-run thrift store. Like THE Salvation Army, if you will.
...and it is uhhhhh-mazing! Well, most the time anyway-- it's best to go on a restock day, which I'm told is Saturday [I'm randomly told this by a work friend, so I cannot attest to his accountability on the correctness of floor stock days at The DI.] Otherwise the one in Provo can be picked through by all the college students looking for a deal.
I however, am not shopping for a deal [as much as I may love one], I am shopping for awesome old lady fashion to pair with something new and funky in which to design an awesome urban retro outfit. 

I tell Jordan all the time that I want to start an internet show for the DI hipster wanna-be's. I see women all the time perusing the ladies racks; they'll pick something up, look it over briefly and put it back. I feel that a lot of girls out here have that 'just missed the mark' look, which is usually due to a lack of accessorizing or simply confidence. The majority of the time when I see women put something back on the rack, it's because they don't have the confidence to wear it. To be bold and rock it. And really that's all fashion is-- the lack of self consciousness and for one to dare to be bold. I mean, seriously, look at half the "couture" crap that goes down the runways in Paris and New York. When would any woman realistically wear half that stuff? And where?

I typically check The local DI once a week, just pop in on my day off while I'm out and about running errands. While on my most recent trip I hit the jackpot!! And below are some pictures of my great grabs!

Super cute fuscia/lavender crocheted light summer v-neck sweater. 

Great over a tank during summer or to take to the pool as a quick cover up. 

Like $5, I think.

Love these belts! $2 each. 

Chunky heel Mary Janes, barely even worn! Only $10! 

 

Can't see all the details in my sex-pot picture here [not intentional], but this high neck country girl top is great with a high-waisted skirt and booties. 

Seriously THREE DOLLARS!

Jean Billabong shorts: like 5 bucks, Ladybug flutter sleeve blouse-- $3!

Purple checkered Esprit pencil skirt [that former owner added LACE (loooove it!) to]: $4.

Semi-formalish past the knee black skirt: I think like 6 bucks. 

The shirt and belt are both from this DI trip too! 

I got a couple of other tops and two dresses too, but Jordan was getting tired of being my photographer! Can you believe all this great stuff for so cheap!? There've even been times that I've gotten a few items with the original price tag still attached! Crazy, right? I love The DI because they get a lot of gently used items without the consignment store price. Also, digging through the racks is not nearly as bad as most mom and pop thrift stores.

While I was out I didn't forget about my would-be photographer at home...

... because really, he never complains when I buy so many clothes [and shoes after shoes after shoes!] and then he even takes my blog photos for me to!! What a guy!

You're Mormon!?

Today is the THREE YEAR anniversary from the date I was baptized [as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints] !!!
It actually seems longer. That time... me... who I was three years ago-- seems long ago when we fast forward to today. I guess time pass always seems to fly by, right?
So much has changed in three years though. When I met the missionaries I had just moved back home [to California from Rhode Island] and was back in school, finally feeling a little back on track after a 3 year hiatus on the East Coast. I think that the time I spent on the East Coast really helped develop me as a person and contributed a lot to my conversion. [Whether I knew it at the time or not, I was really grooming myself for the major lifestyle change I would soon make.]
I originally moved to the East Coast to live with a guy I didn't really know, which turned into a thing. A brief, year long thing. When I broke up with him I had every intention of returning home; afterall he was the only reason I was on the opposite side of the country anyway. I had no strings keeping me there. Until Tabby. My friend Tabby told me not to go running home, not to feel like I had no reason of my own to stay and she invited me to live with her. I lived with her for a little over a year and a half and we had so much fun together! I learned a lot about people while I was in Providence. I also learned a lot about myself. I didn't really figure out everything that I wanted in life, but I did realize a lot of things I was missing. I needed to go back home in order to go back to school-- I just wasn't comfortable enough in a new environment to take the initiative and apply to schools out there. I didn't even know where to begin. I seriously get so overwhelmed when I'm in new places [even if it is for a few years!] I was working everyday and partying every night. I was "livin' the life" but not living my life. I was wasting my life.
November of 2008 I knew I had to move home. It was the right thing to do. December of '08 I packed everything I could fit in 2 boxes and a suitcase, drove with Tabby, Brian and Zach to the airport and tearfully boarded a plane [as the car I drove cross country was now out of commission!] It was hard leaving the friends who had become like family especially because they didn't understand why I felt I needed to go. But I did. Nothing was happening for me. Maybe it was even me-- I wasn't making opportunities for myself. But I had to go home.
After having lived the lazy lifestyle for two and a half years, I came home, enrolled in school, rented a room in a house... I attended classes, did most my homework. Was on the right track at first, then it started happening again. I found myself living life very mindlessly; lacking any real goal or motivation...
...and so it goes...
I was in the park one sunny afternoon, mid January maybe. Two intensely adorable [one in particular!] missionaries approached me and started talking. Very simple conversation at first. They asked what I knew of God, what I thought of God, rather; what I knew of them and the church to which they belonged. We talked for a little under an hour or so when they extended an invite to come to church with them the following day.
I attended.
I sat with them in Sacrament Meeting and absorbed and enjoyed a church meeting for the first time in my life. I sat with them for the following two hours asking every question I could think of. Answers lead to more questions and so on for 3 months. Until April-- when I was made fun of by my then roommate for having the "Mormon Missionaries" over so often to "preach to me." She had been very callous in her jokes all the while I spent time with the Elders. I had grown to care a lot for the two missionaries and the members of the ward I attended, all of whom taught me the gospel and helped me learn more about God, so I really took it to heart this particular day as she poked fun at my Elders. They were more than my missionaries, they were my friends. I hated to hear anyone talk bad about them and the work they were doing. The help they were providing me, the love and friendship they extended me.
I ran out of the house to the same park I had met them and where we often shared afternoons playing a heavy game of "What Questions Has Amber Come Up With Today!?" I called my missionaries and cried to them about how personally hurt I had been by my roommates words. "What is different about today?" Elder Rowley asked, as this was not the first hostile encounter I'd had with her about my lessons. I couldn't explain it but to cry.
I realized I loved who I was when I was with them. I loved who I was at this church. I loved how I had grown and changed over the three months I had spent investigating the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was changing and that scared people close to me. "Mormon" has a certain stigma to it and for me to become one must surely mean I would be changed forever....
and I was.
But not in the way some feared.

I was baptized April 26th 2009. My friend Keely [mormon], Carp [has-been mormon] and Natasha and Molly [no affiliation] were there. Elders Rowley and Stevens, The Snells, The Duvalls, The Waldrons and Munoas were there. The chapel was so full of love. Aside from ward members, I invited only 4 people to my baptism. I didn't want negative feelings around me on this day. I hadn't wanted to have to explain or defend myself against the misconceptions others had about what I was 'getting myself into.'

It was a bold step, I think.
One of the best I've ever taken though.

So yeah-- my life was forever changed, in that I'm now a pioneer for my future children. To know that there is a God in Heaven who loves them every single day. Who longs to bless their lives in such that they don't have to make the mistakes I made. I'm changed in that I'm a happier person, but I'm not so different that I'm not me. I'm the girl you knew three years ago--

Just happier [and with purpose!]

 Last night we went to the Temple with my missionary 

Elder Rowley and his wife, Shae, to celebrate! 

One day they'll give me the key to the city!

I am a hero!
So here is what happened today...

I'm at work and the phone rings--

Good Afternoon, Malawi's Pizza, Amber speaking, how can I help you? 

Hello? 

Yes, hello. Malawi's Pizza. How can I help you? 

Hello... hello? Is this ------ [something I can't understand]?

No ma'am, sorry this is Malawi's Pizza. How can I help you? 

*more old lady mumbling I cant decipher*

Miss, this is Malawi's Pizza... do you need to place an order? 

...the bricks around my house... 

Ma'am I think you have the wrong number, this is a pizza restaurant. 

...what? ...the bricks around my house... they're all around my house... 

I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number. This is Malawi's Pizza. 

What? ...who?... I'm calling 225-6 --- [trailing old lady indecipherable mumbling]...

No, I'm sorry, that's not the number you've reached. We are a pizza restaurant.

What?
A pizza restaurant. This is Malawi's Pizza, I think you've called the wrong number. 
Who? I'm calling 225-...[trails off]... the bricks at my house... 

Ma'am, I'm sorry this is a Pizza restaurant. You do not have the right number. Do you want to hang up and try to call the number again? Okay? 

........ .....

Okay, I am going to hang up then you hang up and try to call your number one more time because this is not the business you are trying to reach. Okay? You have a nice day, okay. I am going to hang up now. Okay? 

Okay. 

Okay, have a nice day. Bye. 

[Something tells me to hang on the line until she hangs up. I don't want to be rude and hang up this clearly senile elderly woman. Plus I just have some feeling that I should wait for her.]

*silence*

....hello? 

Yes, hello ma'am, I'm still here.
Oh, hello. ...the bricks on my house... 
Yes, I know ma'am, you need help with the bricks, but you have not reached the right number. This is a pizza restaurant. I'm sorry, but I can't help you with the bricks at your house. 

...oh... but one fell on my head. 

[As soon as I hear these words from her, I internally freak out! I am frozen a little in my thoughts and don't entirely know how to help her as she has been talking very soft and seems very disoriented, which I initially believed to be due to her age. I just thought she was confused that she got the wrong number.] 

*me frantically responding*

What? I'm sorry. Ma'am are you hurt? Do you need help? 

...the brick fell on my head...

Do you need help? I am going to get you help! Is there someone I can call for you? 

[Even as I am saying this, I realize it's the wrong question... she is old and hurt and seems very out of sorts already, and figure she can probably not give me the correct information of her children or husband, so I change my thought process...]

Yes... I am calling Timpanogos... the bricks at my house... Timpanogos Hospital. 

Ma'am, you were trying to reach the hospital? 
...yes... I am a member there... and these bricks, they fell... 
I am going to get you help. Where are you ma'am? Are you at your house?
Yes.
What is your address? Tell me your address and I am going to send someone to help you. 

*She tells me 5 numbers*

And what is your street name called? 

*She then tells me her street name [which in Utah, is all numbers, like 345 W. 2200 S. can be a complete address, not many street names in Provo area]*
And ma'am, what is your name?
Maxinne J******

Okay Maxinne, I am going to send help to your house. Someone will be there to help you very quickly Until then, you just hang on and if you need some one to talk to you call me back here at this number you called. My name is Amber and I am going to send help. If you need to talk to me again you just press redial on your phone. The green button. Okay? 

Okay.
Okay Maxinne. I am going to hang up now so I can call for help. 

Okay. 

[As soon as I have said I am going to hang up I realize I have not asked her for her number so I can call her if the address is wrong or the police need more information...]

Maxinne? Maxinne, hello?? Maxinne!
*dial tone.*

I immediately dial 911 and tell them what has happened.
The operator cannot make sense of the five numbers Maxinne gave me before the street address, but she says she will send out a squad car to the part of the street number that does make sense. She asks me some information about myself and then asks if I'd like a return call once the officers she is sending have been to the house.

Yes, PLEASE! 

Once I hang up with the police, I look in the phone history for Maxinne's number, but her call has come from an out of state number and it is blocked.
I am totally frantic [on the inside at least!] and think that I have not gotten enough information for the police. I should have gotten her phone number so I could call her back. What was I thinking!
After five minutes with no return call from the police, I have at least calmed my mind by telling myself that if her number was out of state that means it was a cell phone and that my work number, where she called me, will be saved in her outbox; so it should be easy enough for her to call me back if the help I promised her does not arrive-- due to miscommunication when she was giving me her address. I mean, it is a lot of numbers and she had already dialed the wrong phone number, so she very easily could have mixed up the numbers in her address.
I call Jordan because I am shaking, picturing this poor old woman who is hurt and could easily suffer a stroke or something. She is someone grandma, someones mother... As I'm telling Jordan what happened, I'm cursing myself for hanging up on her, why didn't I think to keep her on the work phone line as I dialed 911 from my cell phone, which was right in my pocket??
As I'm talking to Jordan a local number rings in on call waiting [I'm on my personal cell, so no it's not Maxinne calling me back], it's the police.
The officer says that they have reached the address I gave them and it was correct, Maxinne lives there. She was left alone for a brief moment by her daughter who went to the hospital for something [that is why she was trying to tell me to call the hospital] and she wandered into the neighbors backyard, who's house is undergoing some construction.
I asked if she is okay and the officer said she was.
I asked about the brick that hit her head?
His response was, "What?"
I told him that she told me a brick fell on her head and that is why I had called the police to go check on her. He said simply, that she had wandered into the neighbors yard and the construction made a loud BOOM! which scared her and hurt her ears, I guess, and so she was hearing loud ringing in her ears-- which made sense as to why she seemed to disoriented on the phone with me and wasn't talking in complete sentences and needed me to repeat most things I had said to her.
Apparently she was trying to call the hospital to get a hold of her daughter to come home and so when I asked if she needed help, she said 'yes.' And she had already said a brick fell on her head, [I did not imagine that part. I heard it clearly] so naturally-- I called the police to go help her.

Turns out she was just scared a little lost and very confused and I'm nobodies hero.

But, I am glad I called the police because better safe than sorry. I bet she felt a little embarrassed when her daughter got a call from the police! 

Hide'jo' kids, Hide'jo' wife... They rifflin' through yo' luggage, They snatchin' yo' freedoms up!

Just a quick thought today...
I was aimlessly surfing the internet today this morning before starting my day and I came across an article about the TSA. Ugh. When will these arguments end, right? However, I may not be on the same side as you...
The article is brief. About a man who took video footage of a woman crying because she's being patted down. the blogger of Gateway Pundit claims that the TSA's action are a "War on Women" Give me a break, people! GP Blogger claims that the TSA's actions are a "horrible sexual violation" -- so, she was being patted down by a gloved airport employee and he videotapes it, blasts it all over the internet and thennnn calls what they did a sexual violation-- are you kidding me? If the TSA are sexual assailants then what sort of voyeur is he? Would he film someone actually being sexually assaulted and post it online for all to see? Am I the only one seeing the irony in his action and accusation??
I've never fought a war for the rights and freedoms my citizenship in America grants me, not even my privileges have I fought for... so some may call me naive for speaking. But flying is a luxury. It's a privilege. It is in no way a right-- I understand that in America there are constitutional rights protecting we American Citizens from unlawful search. But when we choose the convenience of flying over many other forms of travel, we must understand that because of recent terrorist attacks on our country; that we may be subject to procedures that are lawful under our Constitutional umbrella, to "keep us safe."
I just think it's ridiculous for people to think that a simple pat down or a walk through a machine that blows air at you, or your luggage or electronic devices being briefly examined is a sexual assault and the downfall of America. Give me a break, please! And yes, I have been subject to search 3 times in the last few years at various airports and in no way have ever felt violated, sexually or any other such manner.
I recognize this is a very intense issue for some, but lets not let the TSA become the scapegoat for all of Americas problems please.

Easter Highlights & Photos

• I got to sleep in until 9:00 before having to get ready for church.
• Jordy gave me a cute CUPCAKE Easter basket filled w/ goodies!

 

[We have already eaten all the treats!] 

• I got to wear my new Jessica Simpson muave netted thigh highs under my skirt to church. Cute and... "meeeeow!"
• It was such a nice day we decided to bike to church! 

 

[Those are 4" heels, mind you! And I didn't even fall!] 

• Best testimony ever by little Pelissie boy--  "... we were at an Easter egg hunt yesterday and my cousins were there, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen." 
• I taught a lesson on The Immortality of the Soul in Relief Society, which though a hard topic for me, went really well and we had lots of great comments from the Sisters who brought The Spirit and meaning of Easter and the Resurrection to the lesson. 
•  It was so sunny on our bike ride home I just wanted to keep riding, but Jordan had a little church work to help out with, so I went home and prepared lunch for us. 
• Tuna wraps and a picnic outside under the SUN while we lounged and read our books / books in the great Sunday weather! 

• While we were relaxing [and napping, I fell asleep] outside... someone was sneaking into our house because we had left the door wide open to let in the nice air....

 Oreo!!

[Backstory: Oreo is a street cat, who, I'm sure belongs to someone in the neighborhood, though she has no collar. She wandered into our open door once as a kitten and I fed her tuna and tried to keep her, telling Jordan it was clearly a sign that I was supposed to have her. But Jordan wouldn't let me keep her because the little girls we think she belongs to would miss her. Even though she's an outside cat with no tags!-- so that means she's up for grabs, right? He laughingly said, "If you love her set her free!" So I pushed her out that night and now-- months later she has come back to me!! She loves me. Annnnnd I told Jordan it is definitely a sign this time. And that God was giving me a kitty for Easter, just like I always wanted!]

• We fed Oreo some tuna and let her hang around for a while as I watched her, enthralled by the turtles and guppy fish. 

• I had a nice chat with our neighbor, Clarise, as she pruned her mini herb garden.
• Jordan and I decided to take full advantage of the weather and go for a walk down to the park. 

[Jordan was being a schoolyard bully and taking up both swings!]

• Jordan impressed me with his backflip out of the swings, which I did not believe he could do.

[He's not quite as high in the air as I had hoped, but still impressive.]

• We saw the chubbiest Mexican/Asian little 4 year old girl scream her head off in fright as her dad pushed her, for apparently her first time experiencing a defiance of gravity, in a baby swing. 
• Finally, we enjoyed a late Easter dinner; complete with mashed potatoes, spinach stuffed crescent rolls and stuffing with chicken, not turkey because every one of them at the store was 20 lbs.

Happy Easter!
 

Today-- the library, Tomorrow-- the world!

So, I've decided on what book to read for Book Club and I'm pretty excited because I haven't read it yet either. Wintergirls is a YA novel by Laurie Halse Anderson who wrote Speak; which is a pretty good book I read in my YA Lit class, but a pretty terrible movie staring non-other than thee terrible Kristen Stewart. Blegh. It's a bad adaptation in after-school special format. Not good.

I dragged myself out of bed early yesterday and went to the library, which as it turns out is apparently Fort Knox! It's huge. I walked in the front door because... well isn't that the door you'd use? And I was so lost! There were huge staircases to either side of me, art of dead presidents on the walls, very few people in sight, one open door and a map on the wall. I am sorry but I have never lived in a town that had a library so large it needed its own map with legends and keys. I wandered around for a minute, but couldn't be late to work, so against my usual will, I thought I'd ask for help. I went to the open office door where an old lady did not look happy to greet me. After asking her where I could get a library card [just saying "Um.. excuse me, miss-- where might I get a library card?" made me feel like a little elementary kid all over again.] she answered seemingly very annoyed...

"Go out this door, turn right, go past the first set of stairs, turn left, go straight down the long corridor and downstairs-- to - the - li -bra-ry." 

This last part she said with an all knowing smirk on her face as though I should know that I would obtain a library card from the library. Well, duh. But where the heck is the library! I mean, I thought I was in it. Seemed simple enough. I parked in the lot in front of the big building that looks like an old library with the concrete sign out front reading "Provo City Library." I had no idea there'd be wings in this great building, I'm convinced if I had wandered around unsupervised long enough I might have stumbled upon Narnia!  
When I got to the end of the corridor there were staircases on either side leading in different directions. I felt left was the safest and sure enough I found the library! So I am now a proud owner of a Provo City Resident Library card!

Boo-ya! In your face mean old librarian wanna-be lady! 

Then tonight when I got home from work Jordan and I took our bikes out for a ride around the block to drop off the books to the girls who needed copies. I carried them all in my bike basket. It was cute. We're so hip.

Dear Husband,

When can we get one of these?? 

 

 

 

 

C'mon! You know you want that unbearable cuteness

 running around the house. 

Pleeeeeeease? 

I am a lover of books!

My ward [church] has a ladies Book Club, which I signed on to join months and months ago when we first moved here; however have never attended because it is always held on a Friday night when I'm closing the restaurant and hence cannot attend. This month an email was sent out asking for a host for April-- I volunteered! Under the stipulation that I could only host on a non-weekend night. I am not sure how hosting works entirely, as I have never attended; but I have been given a binder with all the girls' contact information, a little pamphlet with title suggestions along with a handwritten list of potential titles [I assume this was created by the group during one of the fist meetings.] Having looked over the titles, there are some old favorites of mine; The Giver, Holes, The Secret Life of Bees... and then a lot of typical "Book Cluby Type Books;" Tuesdays With Morrie, The Five People You Meet In Heaven, Eat, Pray, Love, Fahrenheit 451... [bahahah, the movie adaptation was so chincy!]
Now, I have nothing against the titles on the book list, most are great books. However, we've all read them at one point or another, half of them I read as mandatory high school reading. See- they're great, but they're so expected. They are titles we've all been exposed to, whether we've read them or not-- they're probably on our Book Bucket List. The pamphlet comes from the city library which is likely the same reading list in all city libraries around the country. When volunteering to host I was rather excited to select a book from my always growing at home collection and expose the girls in the club to something new that I love! Something not so mainstream or even at least a little newer mainstream. I guess I just wanted to bring to the discussion one of the several great titles that were introduced to me by my beloved Literature Professor, Michelle Stewart, who introduced me to a world of wonderfully written Children's and YA novels! I was rather hoping to read an epistolary novel [The Perks of Being a Wallflower], one written in verse [Love That Dog & Hate That Cat] or a novel with use of alternating narrators [Flipped.] My top four picks right now are Th1rteen R3asons Why, Velvet Elvis, Walk Two Moons or The Realm of Possibility-- all of which are either not cataloged at our local library or all ten [yes, there are currently ten copies of Thirteen Reasons Why and all of them] are checked out! And wait-listed. I mean, who is reading these books!? Wonderful enlightened teens of Provo? That's great, really great. For them. But for my purposes-- I need those copies!
See, my book club has a lot of newlywed-starving college students [like Jordan and I!] as well as mothers and they can't all be expected to buy a new book every month... all the emails I have received from the previous months have been about circulation of a very few books which have been rented from the library. So it seems that the members are rotating a few shared books and unfortunately not obtaining copies of their own to read, mark, highlight, underline or dog-ear-- all those wonderful ways we book enthusiasts love to break in a new book to claim our own! [All my favorite books are about as marked up as my scriptures! I really dig into them.]
I also have the added trouble that since volunteers were asked for that means that April's title was not disclosed in the March Book Club Meeting, so the girls are already going to have a delay in reading the book and rotating whatever few copies I can get my hands on. Plus I am also inconveniencing them by moving the date forward to a Thursday evening. I haven't sent out the email yet to let them all know I am totally messing with their whole club, but really hope to get it out by tomorrow afternoon so they can all delve in to whatever story I wind up choosing as soon as possible. I realize I sound like a bit of a Lit-Snob right now, but a good story can change lives! Cheesy, I know, but tell me you've never experienced one of those books that you just can't put down... you're drawn in-- feeling  all the emotions of your favorite characters, you tell yourself just one more chapter, but once you've finished the story,  the characters-- they stay with you.
My first experience of this kind of book love was in 5th grade with The Giver. My teacher Mrs. Neylan was a bit of a rebel and introduced this book to our required reading list without hesitating to wonder whether our young minds would be able to handle the sometimes intense subject matter, she is a great teacher who understood that children will comprehend what you allow them to. My mother was furious when she read just a excerpt about the death of the less desirable twin, believing the content was too mature for her 11 year old daughter and went to the principal about it. My moms outrage made an impression on me, she was wrong to feel a need to limit me and it taught me that you really cannot "[don't] judge a book by its cover" Or one negative review you've read about it. Until you have read something cover to cover you cannot reasonably make a sound judgement on it, can you? [Unless it's Twilight!]

Well... in all this writing, I think I have decided upon a book I may choose. Drum-roll please..... American Born Chinese, it's a graphic novel, so it's a quick easy read. The library has 2 available copies and one due back the 12th. Plus I have my copy to loan out. It intermingles three stories which seem separate at first, but like the movie "Crash," they all come together in the end in ways you hadn't expected. The themes are easily discernible and good topic for discussion and it's something new I can bring to the group. I will go to the library first thing tomorrow morning to get a library card. [Man, that sounds so 4th grade! When I used to wait with my younger sister and older brother at the library during summer vacation days, reading all day waiting for my mom to get us after work.]

THE END.