A Love Story

This is the story of how I fell in love:

Today I was wandering around a lovely shopping center when I was surprised to stumble across a Lulu Lemon* store. Excited, I walked into a white soccer-mom's dreamland: yoga pants galore!

The wearing-yoga-pants-even-or-especially-when-you've-done-absolutely-no-physical-activity-nor-do-you-plan-to craze as been steadily picking up speed, but I have yet to find a pair of yoga pants that doesn't stretch to translucency when forced to cover my, shall we say: "over-abundance" of thigh and calf. (My knees are a perfectly normal size.) Not to mention the 36" inseam.

I have heard from many sources that the quality of lulu is unequaled, but knowing how expensive they are, I couldn't bring myself to even look. Feeling brave today, I walked straight to the back where they have yoga pants displayed in as many styles as jeans at the Buckle. A friendly associate approached me and said,

"I'm guessing you're looking for something long enough?"

(It was kind of her and probably a strict company policy not to mention any other physical feature of concern.)

She proceeded to recommend several styles that ran long and also several styles that they carry in an actual long size. The very first pair I tried on fit like a dream. I could tell right away that this was no ordinary pair of yoga pants. Plus, the most shocking part of all: THEY REACHED THE FLOOR. 

I'm telling you, when the girl called out from the sales floor to ask if I was doing okay, I flung the door open with a smile and said

"I'm doing great!"

Then when I realized that she didn't actually want to see, I awkwardly and quickly retreated and shut the door to the dressing room and looked at my legs in the mirror for another solid 5 minutes. Who knew that heaven was 87% nylon, 13% lycra, and comes in size 12?

How can something this comfortable look so good at the same time? What kind of trickery is this?

And then I remembered the trickery. The string attached. For a whopping 108 smackaroos, a little slice of heaven can be yours. (They do, however, offer a payment plan called "selling your soul to the devil" in just six easy installments.)

Then a little orange sticker caught my eye. It said:  Last chance $48.

People, heaven was half off today only! Glory hallelujah! I picked my peasant clothes up off of the floor and quickly put them back on, taking care not to desicrate the Lulu's by letting them touch the ground.

I rushed out of the dressing room with a wild look in my eyes and asked anxiously, is this the price of these pants? The reply was sweet nectar to my ears. I swiped my card and was handed my happiness in a nice little fabric shopping bag. These people know how to getcha.

When I got home, I decided I really should go do some cardio today. I reached for my pants, but stopped. Did I really want to dirty these beauties up on the first day? Then it hit me. This was not a new pair of workout pants. This was a pair of lounge-around-and-read pants. This was a pair of slept-through-my-alarm pants. This was a pair of I-wanna-look-casual-but-fabulous pants.

Let's get something straight here. I am not looking to make a fashion statement when I go to the gym. I go to the gym to workout and it is not pretty. I'm talking the sweaty, red-faced, frizzy hair, free t-shirt and hand-me-down basketball shorts, kind of "not pretty."

Ha. No, I sweat.

So I paid $48 dollars for a pair of workout pants that I fully intend to use for the exact opposite. Because these pants are the most wonderful thing ever.  Also because I'm cheap and cannot afford to spend 48 dollars on a glorified, wearable sweat mop.

So I'll lounge and sleep and eat and play and do whatever the heck I want in these pants in order to hopefully preserve their thick, mixed-fiber, long, stretchy goodness for years to come.



That is the story of how I fell in love with a pair of pants. (And I didn't even have to sell my soul.)



*I do want to state that I do have several issues with the company founder and such, but everyone in the Farmington store was very kind and helpful, and they make awesome pants.

Let the Temple Touch You

Lakayde Photography

Lakayde Photography

Lakayde Photography

Lakayde Photography

Lakayde Photography

Lakayde Photography

Not Why but What.

I have an app called TimeHop that shows me what I posted on Facebook on the same day in the past years. It sends me a notification almost every day. Sometimes I look at it, sometimes I don't. Yesterday I looked at it. 

Four years  ago yesterday, I wrote "Surgery today... :/" It is now the four year anniversary of the knee surgery that was to repair my ACL and both the menisci in my right knee. I remember shortly after hurting it getting really sad and going outside one night, sitting under a tree and crying.

In the only thing I could think of to bring me comfort in that moment, I tearfully looked to the sky and prayed to Heavenly Father: "why did this happen to me?" As soon as I spoke the words, I felt silly. I didn't really want to know why it happened. I mean, I did...but I already knew the answer:

We are here to learn.

I've always known that and I'll continue believing that forever. Knowing what I do about this life and why we're here and the plan of salvation means that I already know why I have to go through hard things. 

Asking "why did this happen to me" turns yourself into a victim. It turns what starts as heart ache into selfishness. We start thinking that we are above having challenges or that we should somehow be exempt from the problems that plague every human being to grace the earth. This mindset only brings bitterness and anger and lessening faith.

A better question to start asking is "what?" As in, what can I learn from this? or what can I do to help others who are also struggling?

Since that night, in the midst of the many trials I have been through, I have quit asking why--no matter how much I want to--and I ask what.

Fireplace Mantel on a Budget

So I'm in college, which means there is a budget for everything. My room really isn't decorated much at all because I don't wanna spend the money on it, but a fireplace mantel simply cannot be left bare:

Doesn't that look so sad? (Those little lamps in the alcoves are permanent and have a little fake flickering candle... how charming, haha.)

Anyway, I've been buying old/cool looking books at DI (Utah's version of a Goodwill) for a while now and I knew that I wanted some of them on there, but I also knew that I needed a few bigger pieces to tie in and really fill the space.

A day off of volleyball plus a recent paycheck equals me going to DI and oh.my.word. the thrifting angels were seriously with me.

This is what the mantel looks like now:

The basket that the picture is in was $2 as and is really sturdy and has those two handle things on it that I think look really cool. The picture was also $2 and I feel a little bad like I stole it or something because I think it is seriously so cool.

See what I mean about the books? I love to read, but these were definitely purchased for showcasing.They ranged from 50 cents to $2.

The silver screw-looking thing was in a basket over by industrial tools and nails and screws and such and I have absolutely no idea what it is. A couple guys over there gave me funny looks when I grabbed it looking so excited. It was $1. The basket on the right just looked cool and had the same metal color as the screw-thing.

Now for the best part...I first spotted the two tallest of the jars on a shelf and got so excited. Then walking through a totally different section of the store, I saw the smallest one and ran over and grabbed it with a face of total surprise and satisfaction. And the best thing about DI? They were each a whopping $2. I know. I KNOW. Aren't they so perfect?

Before and after:

Overall I'm pretty proud of it, although visually I still think it's a tad bit heavy on the left so when I go back sometime, we'll see if I can't find something to put in the basket to give the right side a little more visual weight.

Modesty, Among Other Things...

I've seen quite a lot of somethings lately in the blogging world that has caught my eye...

One is modesty. 

The other is a little harder to define because it seems to just be the idea that either girls/women need to pick up their game to help guys be better.

I believe that each post is written with complete sincerity and an intention only to display their opinion with words. I'm always interested to see what other people will say about posts like this, so I scroll through the comments section and skim the many different opinions displayed there.

Inevitably, people get uptight and assume that the writer thinks that men are incompetent beasts of nature who cannot control themselves so women must step in and dress modestly and be more conservative so as to "help" the men. If this was honestly the intent and opinion of the writer, the commentators would have true cause for concern, but I don't think that that is the case.

Either way, the argument wages on about whether it is a girls job to dress modestly to help the boys keep their minds clean, or whether it is a boys job to learn to control his thoughts and actions. There are good points on both sides.

I have always been a strong believer in modesty, and these debates intrigue me. But it's like people imagine that dressing modestly is solely for the purpose of keeping a moral thought process. However, I'd like to suggest that this argument should not be about who's responsibility it is but WHY it is everybody's responsibility: girls and boys, men and women.

Women may say that they dress immodestly because that's what gets them attention from men. That may be true, but does a girl really want the kind of attention that comes from a "man" like that? They are personally responsible for acting and dressing in a way that will attract the kind of man they want to, whether that means modest or otherwise.

Men may say that it's hard for them to pay attention to modestly dressed women when their more "scantily clad" counterparts are around. That may also be true, but a man should learn to have control over his thoughts and actions and seek after the kind of woman they want to, whether they are modest or otherwise.

Now that I've put my two cents in, I must admit that I believe there is more to this debate than even this. Like I mentioned earlier, I'm more interested in WHY than WHO or HOW. You see, as I've thought more and more about this, I've come to a single conclusion:

We are not SUPPOSED to dress modestly to help keep anyone's mind clean. We are COMMANDED to dress modestly because we are created in God's image: 

Genesis 1:27

 "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them."

and because he has said that our bodies are holy and we are to treat them like temples:

1 Corinthians 6:19

"What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?"

Heavenly Father has given us everything we have, including our bodies, and modesty in dress, attitude, and company is not truly for anyone but Him. Our bodies are incredible, beautiful, and sacred creations that we have been commanded to take care of.

So although people somehow always find something to argue with, in my eyes at least, there really isn't a debate to be had at all. The word and commandments of God are not open for debate or vote or subjective to majority rulings. Heavenly Father has asked us to dress modestly, so that is what we're supposed to do AND why we do it.

xoxo CPTVPT

2013

Exactly a year ago, when the clock turned from 11:59 PM to 12:00 AM and the New Year began, I had absolutely NO idea what 2013 would bring. I look back and can hardly believe that it has only been a year.

A year of endings:

Gradutation

Last club tournament. (Florida)

End-of-year Party (MVP)

Last social of Seminary Council

and beginnings:

Signing on to Utah State volleyball!

Signing on to Utah State volleyball!

College bed

A year of creations:

This:

became this:

and this:

became this: 

This:

 became this:

A year of some scary days:

and some sad days:

 and LOTS of happy days:

Camping

Missy and I on the last day of school.

Two "selfies" 

A year of beautiful sunsets and scenery:

A year comprised of:

12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 minutes, 31536000 seconds of my life spent sleeping, eating, playing volleyball, graduating, moving out, starting college, learning, loving, crying, laughing, praying, sewing, baking, camping, daydreaming, planning, a million other things plus two, and I'm grateful for every minute of it.

Here's to the 365 days of 2014 and many years to come!

xoxo CPTVPT