Pants Me

What am I wearing on Sunday? None of your business. Because it isn't a fashion show.

It isn't a private school with mandatory uniforms.

And it definitely isn't a venue for protest.

Do I care the most miniscule amount if you wear pants to church? No. I don't. And neither does anyone else. Except perhaps the really old school people. But they probably also hate that you use your iPhone for scriptures.

And even they don't want you to wear to wear skirts as a sign of submission. NO ONE DOES.

The idea behind "Sunday Best" is showing the Lord that you are dressing your nicest to dedicate time to worship him. If your nicest attire is a classy pantsuit, awesome. AWESOME. Wear it. Bully for you. No one cares. A lady in my ward used to and literally no one cared.

But pants will never be a sign of equality. Wearing pants is not going to mend this false sense of inequality and insecurity you feel in the Church.

The Church does not treat women unfairly. If anything we are actually shielded and protected from some of the tougher and rougher elements of life and responsibility.

If you feel unequal, I'd start taking a look at the people with whom you surround yourself. I don't doubt that there are men (and women) in your life that may treat you as subordinate or look down on you. Maybe even men in positions of authority in the local church.

But how many times do you need to hear that the Church is perfect but the members are not?

How many times do you need to read Alma & Amulek's sermon to the poor and rejected that weren't allowed to worship they way they wanted? (Thank GOODNESS they didn't have the burden of not wearing pants to deal with! Can you imagine?!)

How many times to I need to write snarky, unChristlike blog posts about these ridiculous Mormon fad groups?!!!!!

I'm wearing my nicest skirt to Church on Sunday. If you hadn't guessed.

Dating for Dummies: Married Edition

We had the best date night last Monday. So great that it made us realize how lame we normally are with our date nights. We do really easy, comfortable, familiar things usually. At least we are good about having a "date night" once a week, I guess.

Anyway. If you're like us and need to spruce up the ol' date night, we somehow succeeded. Here are the key elements, as I see it.

Plan it in advance. Think back to your days of "Planned, Paired Off and Paid For." Even if it's simple, a little planning and scheduling in advance is the best. It's something to put on the calendar and look forward to. 

(The Beard got tickets to this Jazz game in the Larry H. Miller Suite a few weeks ago. So fun.)

Make the transportation part of your date - whether that's taking a scenic route, parking and walking a few blocks to your restaurant, or listening to specific music in the car makes that time more memorable.

(We took the Trax from Sandy to Downtown - neither of us being big Trax users. Best people watching of all time. We also did a Backstreet Boys singalong on the way home, but that's pretty normal.)

Do something new, like a restaurant you've never tried or a store you've never been in.

(Z'Tejas was a last minute decision but the giant bowl of guacamole made right at our table was the highlight of my night. It's rare that I can weasel the Beard out of Italian and into Mexican food, so when it's yummy I rub it in.)

Positive Conversation is where it's at. Focus on things you love, things you're excited for and retelling old stories. 

(We have been trying so hard to not complain about our jobs, and it's paying off. We talked about our families, Christmas plans, single girls to set our single guys up with, and of course Glen Coco.)

And finally, the best discovery I made was actually an unfortunate accident. 

And the reason I have no pictures. Not even of my outfit. I wore a Star Wars graphic tee, blazer, cropped pants and leopard studded loafers. Definitely outfit-post worthy, but we missed it. Just imagine it, would you? Here's my outfit today anyways. Not as cute. Much more teacher-y. But I finally got a polka dot sweater! Blogger win!

Puppy: Heaven, sweater: Forever 21, chambray shirt: Old Navy, pants: Gap, boots: Forever Young

Turn your phone off, leave it in the car, silent mode, whatever you need to do. You become so much more mentally present and engaged when your phone/Twitter/Instagram isn't buzzing in the back of your mind.

At first I was bummed that I couldn't post a pic and live tweet the game, but it only lasted about a minute. Once I realized I didn't have to check my phone constantly and could give the Beard my full attention, the night just took off. 

I realized that THAT is what a date truly is. Devoting your attention to one person for a few hours to show them you care and really want to know them. After 7 years of dating you would think I'd have figured that out by now.

Well I've figured it out now. And I'm super excited for more phone-less dates with that bearded guy I like.

Coming Soon to a Theater Near You: Your Life

We were recently invited to join a book club by our chic friend Cambri Christensen Visser. I was completely and totally psyched. I love to read and I never know WHAT to read. Goodreads is great and I like to use it for inspiration. But almost more than reading the books, I love TALKING about books. When I read Gone Girl over fall break I was dying to talk to someone, anyone about it and none of my friends had read it. Pure hell.

So a book club is the best scenario of all time. Books. Friends. Discussion. Food. Yahtzee. I'm looking to get involved in a few more. Message me if you're interested. Srsly.

The book we chose for our first round was "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" by Donald Miller. He is a memoir-humor-lifestyle-self help-religion-grab bag writer. I have his signature name-making book "Blue Like Jazz" on hold for pickup at the library and I can't wait to grab it tomorrow and begin devouring it like this one.

It is, in a word, inspirhilariawesome. Because I couldn't use just one word to describe it. Especially for a somewhat rootless, disillusioned, bored 20-something, it just hit me right in the heart. Not with fear, shock or even poignancy, but with simple truth.

The premise of the book is that Donald Miller is spinning his wheels, bored in the lull after the success of "Blue Like Jazz." Some filmmakers approach him out of the blue and want to make a movie about his life/memoir. Suddenly, Miller is faced with the amazing opportunity to deeply examine and even rewrite his own life. The lessons he learns along the way are amazing and so completely applicable to our lives.

The main theme is that we are all living "stories." He begins seeing himself as a character while trying to write his life script, and sees that its probably the way God sees us in the stories where He places us. We have a lot of control in our stories, but He is there, whispering in our ears the elements to make our story better if we will just listen to him.

Story elements apply to our lives. Quotable bits like "When we live a story we are telling the people around us what we think is important" and "if the character hasn't changed, the story isn't over yet" really made me think about my life as a story that I want to spice up. Good characters face trials and challenges, have to do some good to be likable, and always come out on top in the end. Eventually.

Another big theme was the idea that WE have to make our story readable. Tellable. Interesting. Miller realizes when the filmmakers try to make up parts of his story that his true story isn't interesting enough for the screen.

Is mine? Is yours? If a filmmaker sat down with you to make a movie of your life, would it make a good movie? Probably not. Sorry. No offense. Mine would be super boring too. I spend far too much time on the couch watching The Office and reading fashion blog/magazines to make my life interesting.

At that point, Miller does a number of things to make his life a good "story." He tries to find his estranged father. He hikes to Macchu Picchu in Peru. He bikes across the United States. It's not easy. He has an incredibly difficult, even painful time. But he knows that it's the right thing to do and he learns that pain wins you things. Like experience. Knowledge. And scenes.

The most visual, personally applicable part was his description of scenes. Great movies, great stories, have great scenes. Think of an action hero walking calmly away from an expanding explosion. A romantic kiss in the rain. A meditating character at sunset. Think of your favorite movie and you're sure to recall a "scene."

Now think of your favorite memories in life. Likely they are "scenes" as well. They don't often come reading on the couch, Danica. Miller notes that many of his favorite scenes happen in the outdoors while DOING things. Point taken. I'll get out and DO more. But maybe not till this snow melts in the spring...

What I walked away with, was that my life can be an incredible story. You just need to be willing to accept an "inciting incident." Accept pain. Accept challenge. Get out of your box, so to speak. Do good things that will make you the type of character viewer/readers want to root for. Make memorable scenes. Listen to your screenwriter, God, whispering your cue in the corner of your ear. Live like a documentary crew is following you around, day in and day out.

Live your life like it's a story that you'd want to pay $8.50 and a bucket of popcorn for.

Start by reading this book.

Then email me so we can talk more about it.

Why are Christmas Songs the Creepiest?/My Santa Baby Wishlist

There are several traditional Christmas songs that I find incredibly creepy.

1. "Baby It's Cold Outside" is definitely about date rape.
2. "Last Christmas" is about a clearly unstable person who was in love with a slut and obviously didn't have any idea that he/she was repulsed with her/him.
3. "Blue Christmas" and "Baby Please Come Home" are so desperate I get embarrassed just listening.
4. "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" is cute I guess, but I can't get past how disturbing that would be for the kid. Like scarring, probably. 
4. "Santa Baby" is just a glorified little girl thinking she has her daddy wrapped around her little finger, but her 'daddy' is really Santa and the "little girl" is a wannabe seductive greedskank.

I don't know why we don't just listen to the perfection that is NSYNC's Christmas album.

Despite all that, I love Christmas and I'm getting all kinds of excited, just like everyone else. The tree is up. We have completed Christmas shopping for everyone but each other. Copious amounts of hot chocolate are disappearing from our pantry. Fun all around.

So if I were a creepy, slutty, greedy "Santa Baby" singer, here is what I'd be crooning about:

Really gonna need some booties. I'm thinking sleek black for school, rugged western for leggings and sweaters when I'm off duty. 

Drop waist dresses are killing it right now. Almost bought one for $15 (!!!) at Downeast a couple weeks ago but it was too short. Depression set in rapidly.

 New frames. I picked out an awesome pair at my eye exam last month and then chickened out at the last minute. I hate wearing my glasses, but now I'm obsessed with these so hopefully I'll wear them more when I inevitably buy them.

 A stunzo leather jacket. Every cool girl has one.

 I never wanted a wedding band, and haven't ever worn one. But when I saw this bow wedding band, I wanted it. That could be a wedding band right? It definitely won't be anytime soon, but maybs someday. 

 Bloggers have been bombarding the blogosphere (alliteration anyone?) with oh-so-chic printed sweaters right and left. Totally behind this one.

 

A tweed or boucle structured Chanel-esque jacket. But could I even pull it off? The dilemma.

 

Cap toe heels. D*&$ you, JCrew.

 

 

 The R2D2 case, obvs. I guess I'd need an iPhone first. But honestly I want the case more.

See? It's not ONLY clothes. Kate Spade makes the cutest iPad cases.

  

I'm trying to write more, and to take my writing seriously, because I really love it. I just need things to write about and something that forces me to write. 

 

I just wanna do everything Eliesa does, so I naturally fell in love with her new leather satchel/backpack/statement bag. Now I want one.

All images (and many, many, many more that I want) I gathered from my reservoirs of boards on Pinterest.

What I really want for Christmas is for Pinterest to create some sort of folder/organizing system for all 10 recipe boards, 6 outfit boards, 8 holiday boards, 5 home design boards, and any other type of board I choose to create in the not-so-distant future.

Follow my Pinterest account. I pin so much and so often. You won't regret it.

6 Months for you, Glen Coco! You Go Glen Coco!

Sunday was Glen Coco's 6 month birthday!!!! Yeah. I'm one of those people. But, no, I didn't make him a pup-cake. It's real.

**To read our post when we first got Glen check here**

I can't believe he used to look like this.

But now he looks like this! (Notice the sock he's {unsuccessfully} trying to bury)

Man we love this little guy. Our little family just revolves around him. He's getting all puppy pad trained, not biting and slowly cutting down on the crazy barking. He's extra cuddly and he's learning tricks!

He even made it onto Dogshaming in his first 6 months. Pretty accomplished. Even if it was post-scary-haircut.

Not to mention I love that the Beard loves him. We got him knowing he'd be for me, and the Beard was reluctant to even have one. But fellow Beards bonded and now they are fast friends. :)

 

Two bearded goofballs in a pod. 

Try to tell me this isn't the best picture you've ever seen. 

Likes

• Stealing & hiding socks (see above)
• Sticking his butt in your face
• Eating leaves, paper, anything
• Playing fetch
• Our big blue blanket aka Glen's nap spot
• Humping his panda pillow pet (sorry?)

Dislikes

• Cold snow on his sensitive little paws
• His Darth Vader Halloween costume. It was a little too big and scared him so bad. So it'll have to wait until next year. :(
• Baths
• Waking up
• Lettuce
• Milo (the upstairs neighbor's Bernese Mountain dog. Same age as Glen, 50x the size and very VERY friendly)
• Vacuums & Washing Machines

Hilarious things he does:

When I'm asleep or reading or otherwise occupied, he gets his toy and drops it right on my face.

 Wake up Mom!

When I do yoga he attacks my ponytail and jumps on my back. Challenge Level: 10. I'm going to try to get some video because it's comedic slapstick gold.

When I'm asleep he sleeps above/against the top of my head on my pillow, and gets pissed if I have to change position.

When he knows he's in trouble he looks up at us with sad eyes and tries to nuzzle. It works.

When he jumps off the couch he leaps like he's trying to fly.

When I hide under a blanket and "cry" for him he wails and whines until he can find a way under the blanket. 

When we are eating he tries to catch the food between our plates and our mouths.

Boy, is he perfect. 

Sometime, Always, Never - How to Not Be an Idiot in the Blogosphere

Ok so this Sometimes, Always, Never isn't about a fashion faux pas. Sorry. But this topic has been showing up on multiple blogs and it IS Friday. Therefore, Sometimes, Always, Never returns.

My friend Sierra posted about this.

Life of Bon posted about this. 

Even a dance/fitness tumblr I follow posted about shutting down her ask box because everything she was getting was rude or stupid, even though she makes workouts and inspirational posts FOR FREE.

I am lucky to never have had an issue with rude/stupid/retarded comments on my blog, and wouldn't mind if I did. A girl once complained about a post we wrote on BYU Style back in the day when Katie and I were writing for it, and we just LOLed and LOLed over it. No harm done.

Despite all logic and humanity, blogging has somehow become a controversial issue. Blows. My. Mind.

To me, blogging is such a small, insignificant part of my life. I really like to write and I love reading blogs, but if my blog went away (Natural Disaster, Apocalypse, Electronic/Internet failure) would my world end? NO. It's just a fun thing to add to my life.

Logic would conclude that Blogging is this:

1. Someone has a site where they post their thoughts, ideas, outfits, recipes, opinions, intelligence and stupidity.
2. You DO NOT have to read it, they owe NOTHING to you, and it's not real life anyways. 
3. Reason would dictate that there is no possible reason to leave nasty comments, belittle others, complain about a blog or  even read it in the first place. Yet here we are. 

Without further ado.... How to Not be an Idiot in the Blogosphere.

SOMETIMES

Blog. Yes, you read that right. I firmly believe you should only blog SOMETIMES. Do not blog every day unless you are being paid to, or unless you want to lose touch with reality. Seriously. No one has a life so interesting that it requires everyday documentation.

Comment on blogs. If I tried to comment on every blog I read, even just once a week, it would be a colossal waste of my time. I only comment on posts that really touch me or relate to me. Just like you wouldn't try to talk to every single person at a big party, you shouldn't try to be part of every single blog on the interwebs. Come on.

ALWAYS

Follow what you love and unfollow what you don't. Don't be afraid to unfollow a blog or delete a subscription. Don't feel bad. This is your life. Don't waste it reading things that make you mad or sad or don't really contribute to your life.

Contribute positively. We all love a good b**** fit post. But the majority of your internet contribution should be positive, that includes comments and content you follow.  

NEVER

"I'm such a bad blogger!" Is blogging a sport? Is blogging a competition? No. Blog when and how and what you want to. If you're doing what you love you are a "good" blogger.

I take it back. If you don't know how to use the English language appropriately you are a "bad" blogger.

For the love of everything internet, do NOT make your blog your personal journal. No one cares. Sorry. But we don't want to know how many times you had to change your little one today or how you slept last night.

General Authorities have commanded us to keep journals. I get that. But if your journal is your blog you are missing the entire point - keeping things sacred.

***If you are leaving a mean comment, complaining about a blog, or getting angry about a post:***

You are the idiot we are referring to.

You do realize that it is THEIR blog, correct? And they they write it for THEM? Not you and your selfish little life.

So stop typing. Close that comment thread. Unfollow that blog. Log off your computer. 

No one will miss you. Trust me. 

If this is offensive, feel free to unfollow me. I recognize this was a mean ranting post. You have every right to choose what to follow and I have every right to write anything I choose. I'll take my own advice and get over it. Promise.

Because my value and self-worth are not determined by your comments or the number of followers in my right sidebar. 

Russian to Come Home

Last night my cousin came home from her mission in Donestk, Ukraine! Her plane landed at 10:47 pm and a bona fide crazy crowd was gathered to welcome her back to Utah.

 

Me and Jess are the same age and grew up right around the corner from one another. Always in the same ward and schools, our families spending lots of time together, we were close. Even when we attended rival colleges. In fact, I think we became better friends during our college years, despite the Holy War. :)

She left right before I got married, which was a bummer, but we even moved my bachelorette party back a few weeks because I wanted Jess to attend. I was sad to not have her as a bridesmaid, but so proud of her for going on a mission! She surprised us all (well, maybe just me, idk) by declaring that her mission call was coming ("WHAT?! YOU PUT IN YOUR PAPERS?!!!!!" *head explodes* - me) in a week or so.

It was amazing to be there when she opened her call, sort of expecting South America, where her little brother Justin (my sister Brooke's age) was serving in Bolivia, instead seeing the Ukraine

"Russia!" - one of her relatives boldly declared. No. Almost. Close. Used to be. But no. Speaking Russian? Yes.

She put her life on hold to serve in some freezing cold country, learning a crazy freaking language, and became an amazing example to our whole family in the process.

And she's back! This was my first missionary welcoming party ever (Justin's is in 2 weeks!) and it was such a positive experience for me. We patiently (not) waited holding signs and balloons and for some inexplicable reason I started just bawling the moment I saw her on the escalator. It was really her!

Lisa, her mom, naturally got the first hug.

Then the family, including her 15 year old brother Josh who has grown  approximately 10 feet since she left.

Then me! I think I broke one of her ribs.

She seemed shell-shocked, exhausted (27 hours of flights and layovers can do that to you) and overwhelmed. There were a lot of hugs to go around. I'm sure she was relieved when we all finally left her well enough alone.

But man there is just nothing like a fresh missionary. I'm so glad she is home and I'm excited for Justin to get home too! The holidays will be so fun this year with everyone reunited. Also I'm calling that she will be engaged within the year and we won't be the only marrieds on this side of the fam. Calling it.

However. Not so excited about the way this whole event reminded me that little Mitch will be putting in his papers in a month or two. But the sooner he goes, the sooner he comes back. Right?

RIGHTTTTTTTTT?!