Recently I asked some friends to share with me their first embarrassing memories. Please enjoy their stories below. 

Just kidding. It's funny that of all my embarrassing memories, my earliest is probably something only I remember.

My uncle and cousin picked me and Nahdia up from elementary school one warm, sunny day. My mum was always sending people to get us with no advanced warning. It's a wonder we never got abducted. 

On our way home Uncle Roger stopped an ice cream trolly to buy us a treat. Nahdia and I stayed in the car and my cousin brought back two ice creams. He handed me one and I opened it straightaway. Seconds later, he ran back and asked for the ice creams. I was befuddled. I believe to that point in my life, no one had ever handed me food with the expectation to get it back. I didn't know what to do. I gave him the precious, partly eaten ice cream (I don't think I licked it; my dad always told us to "bite" ice cream) and Nahdia handed hers out to him. A few minutes later my uncle and cousin came back to the car, handed me the repossessed ice cream, I don't know if Nahdia got another one, and we headed home. I thought I had done something terrible and I don't remember anyone trying to make me feel better about it either. I do remember thinking the whole world was staring at me and feeling like a major oinker.

My uncle stayed at the house a while to chat up my mum, but I hid out in my parents' room. I was mortified.

People have since learned that if I'm given something for me,  I will assume I can use it.

Primetime TV.

What's cool for five minutes? Caller, you're on the air.

Detailing a car.

Using my dad's weed whacker.

Some dates.

A teacher's lesson.

Going running.

An "En Zed" (NZ) radio station asked callers to give examples of things that were cool for five minutes. Some of the answers were hilarious, the running one especially. Think about it. You lace up your shoes, grab your music and head out for a nice piece of exercise. If you're big like me, you don't get very far before your run turns into a jog-walk and eventually you might as well be in a stroller for as fast as you're crawling (I picture wheelchairs being much faster). You can't turn back because your neighbors already saw you. What are they gonna think if you pass by again so quickly? "Aye what a lazy az. He can't even run for 5 minutes."

Or how about those tasks you start hard out, sure you're going to dominate and get 'er done? Then five minutes later, all those tiny pieces of trash between the seats don't seem so important. After whacking yourself a couple of times (I used to have the scars to prove it), the grass doesn't seem to be that great of a visual offense. The girl or guy across from you isn't as attractive once words start flowing out of their mouth. A teacher's attention getter is about the only interesting portion of the class period.

I have good memories of starting something only to be bored or overwhelmed after the first five minutes. Sometimes only my pride keeps me in the game. No way Jose, I'm not gonna give them the satisfaction of knowing that I'm truly over cutting this grass. I'm gonna finish it if it kills me. And while I do it, I'm gonna whack up these crab apples and hit them in the legs. I was somewhat of a ballbuster sister missionary. Oh, I didn't mention that was a mission experience?

Tears and ice cream.

I like analogies, food analogies in particular. I have been teaching choir songs for a little over a year now. It's not customary to have a young choir mistress, especially in a Samoan ward, but I am; and there you have it!

One of my funnier teaching moments involved dynamics and McDonald's portion sizes. I told them not to be stingy with their super size (ff), large (f), medium (mf), small (mp). We never really got past mezzo piano because it's very difficult to get consistent sound when they're singing any softer than "soft". I used to yell out "SUPER SIZE" or whisper "small". They laughed, but were very compliant.

A few Sundays ago I took too much advantage their good humor. I told them, "when I close my hand you close your mouth." I didn't realize how rude I was until I saw someone snicker at me. I do believe they let me get away with too much.

Anyway, back to the food analogies. The speakers in sacrament talked about faith and as I heard their messages I had the following funny thought. Here's the bit I recorded on my phone:

Faith is like food the Lord continually puts in front of us. If we ignore it, what happens to the food? It spoils and then the Lord puts another plate in front of us. The process goes on and on, He doesn't give up on us, don'tcha know. What will happen to us? We'll starve and our faith will get so skinny and weak that eventually we won't recognize it.

I giggled silently to myself as I thought out my newest food analogy.

Downton Abbey.

"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." Elbert Hubbard

I'm currently reading a FREE e-book from Amazon called Kicking Eternity by Ann Lee Miller. One of the lines briefly caught me by surprise and I had to think about it a minute. It goes something like this:

"You need to have three friends, one who is more mature, one who's an equal, and one to mentor."

At first I thought, yeah that's cool. Then it bothered me so I asked Nahdia, "Do you have a friend who is more mature than you?" She was caught off guard, I mean, this is deep conversation to do over laundry. She kind of mumbled a response. I followed up with, "Do you have one who's an equal?" She said, "You." [I'm flattered! She is one of my most favorite people in this world and ever after] "Do you have one you mentor?" She didn't get to answer this one because I started laughing. She asked what brought on all the questions and I mentioned I read it in a book. I went on to explain my general feeling that a well rounded friendship wouldn't be stuck in neat little categories.

Exhibit "A":  There are times when Nahdia's wisdom reaches light-years farther than mine. In other instances we are equally matched. And then there are moments when I get to be the mentor.

Not convinced? Let's try another friendship.

Exhibit "B":  Rina is a friend from the last year and half. We've become very close in a short time, partly because we are very similar:  equals. In other aspects, Rina's maturity, kindness, homemaking abilities, desire to serve, etc. eclipse mine in a very marked way. Then there are sprinkled moments when I am able to step into the mentoring role.

Okay, here's one more. I feel like I'm writing a legal description.

Exhibit "C":  I've been friends with July for, phew, about nine years. We are so similar in temperament and cognition that it's difficult to even believe we don't spend much time in each others' company. We get together, spill our guts, receive counsel and leave feeling someone outside of the family or work, outside of the immediate situation understands how the other is feeling--all three "types of friends", on both sides, in one sitting. It's wonderful!

A well balanced friendship has to be pliable. A good friend is humble enough to receive and give counsel. A good friend is comfortable keeping you company and being on your level. The friendship evolves and roles change.

It's a new theory and I have to work out the kinks but it works for me.

----

In a totally unrelated matter, I wrote out assignment cards for my primary kids to do opening exercise next Sunday. I realized I may have misspelled a word and it's bugging me. Heterophones! English is the hardest language to learn, apparently.

I think I wrote:

______________ is sharing a testimony next Sunday blah, blah, blah.

I may have written:

______________ is bearing a testimony next Sunday blah, blah, blah.

If so, I should have written:

______________ is baring a testimony next Sunday blah, blah, blah.

Heterophones: two or more words that sound the same, but are spelled differently.

Serves me right after laughing over the use of 'minus', 'mind as' and 'mine as' in place of might as. As in I might as well go to sleep since it's getting late.

Confessions and friends.

Nothing exposes our true selves more than how we treat one another in the home.

-Joseph B. Wirthlin, April 2005, The Virtue of Kindness

A "bird" by any other name

M.S.A.

It's not a gang, virus or credential. It's the designation for members of the LDS church whose relationship status is single and age is 30s to 40s. It stands for Mid Single Adult. 

This evening I attended my first MSA fireside. I was inspired, uplifted and walked away with a desire to travel to Nauvoo and experience some church history. Every July the Nauvoo Pageant puts on a show about the early members of the church, their faith and the construction of the Nauvoo temple. 

The guest speakers served as Public Affairs couple missionaries for 18 months and they shared experiences and promotional clips. My mind was wandering, nothing out of the ordinary, and it wasn't so much the words they shared, but the zeal they had for the work and for the gospel that enthralled me. They have beautiful spirits and I'm definitely a fan. When one of the organizers introduced them she promised us the couple was awesome, that we'd thank her for getting them to speak and that we'd love them. I agree on all three accounts. The wife was first to speak and she started with, "It's okay if you don't love us." We all laughed and her humility and great-nature quickly won the crowd over.

As far as my first MSA experience goes, I felt very young. I'm not quite 29, but I feel excessively aged in the YSA, so I decided to see what I may get to look forward to. I made myself stop people-watching, tough to do when others blatantly gawk at your friends, and be there for the message. I know that's the way things are supposed to be, but I love to observe [the MSA animals in their wild habitat] and it's hard not to do that in a place where it's normal to turn about and be highly distracted.

Nancy and I met a girl affectionately called Pakosina by her Fijian relatives. I guess that means white dove in Fijian, I know it means white duck in Samoan. We were unaware that we were still using our Kiwi accents in this first meeting and Pakosina thought it was real. I think it's so funny when people think we're from overseas. I want to try an accent that would be totally off with my brown skin. I have my eye and ear on the Irish Brogue!

R and more R.

When Crickets Cry

by Charles Martin

Did I mention I love audiobooks? About four years ago I was listening to a talk given by Elder Groberg, the one who served a mission in Tonga, in which excerpts from the movie, The Other Side of Heaven, were used to illustrate some of his talking points. I had previously seen the movie so listening to the dialogue and sound effects created a cinema type effect and I watched the movie in my mind's eye. It was around the tail end of the craze over the Twilight Saga books that I decided to give it a go in audiobook format and I've been hooked ever since. For some reason, reading a physical book with 300+ pages is still daunting to me, but listening to a 20+ hour audiobook is right up my alley.

My first audiobook was Twilight and the rest of the saga soon followed. I dabbled in YA fiction, Adventure, Romance, Self Improvement, Finance, Classical Literature and the like, but my favorite genre to date is Christian Fiction. I don't much appreciate adaptations from the Bible, but maybe I just haven't come across one that I like. I do love contemporary and historical Christian fiction, especially sprinkled with romance. 

I finished When Crickets Cry today. Here's the test of whether or not an author or narrator is appreciated:  How long did it take before you looked for another one of their works? It took me about six hours, but I was working part of that time. There was just enough back story for each character to get me invested. I've noticed that Oasis Audio mostly produces clean, Christian audiobooks and after having more misses lately in the choosing of audiobooks, I decided to play it safe with an OA book. Enter the crying crickets...

Read this book in a place you're comfortable crying, sobbing, waving your arms, covering eyes, laughing out loud; read this book in the privacy of your bedroom. The ending confused me at first, but I believe it was meant to surprise and prick you, to make you think. This book is about service, determination, loyalty, love and forgiveness. I would give it a 4.2 out of 5 Audible stars.

If I could go back and read this all over again for the first time, I would do it one sitting. Picking it up again (being on the waiting list for three or four weeks will do that to you) was slow at first, because it took me a little while before I remembered one of the minor characters. All in all, I wish I hadn't read it so I could read it again for the first time.

I've come across some of my favorite quotes while listening to audiobooks. Here are a few:

"No one's free, and those who think they are just haven't thought about it long enough." Ada in The Hope of Refuge by Cindy Woodsmall

"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known god." Cory ten Boom

"Either your faith in God is absolute or it's worthless." Song of Redemption by Lynn Austin

"Things can be cleaned and replaced. Great moments cannot afford to be lost." Cindy Woodsmall

"Blood isn't love." Cassandra Clare

"A woman without her history is a fool." Lani Wendt Young

"Fuzzy caterpillars change; snakes don't." Kara in The Harvest of Grace Cindy Woodsmall

This one is from a NUMB3RS episode, but it's still funny:

David to Colby S04E13

"You, my friend, are a prisoner of high standards and low social skills."

What he said.

I had a dream...

My older sister had a baby and I was finally a legitimate [not that I would ever be called an illegitimate] aunt! It was a good dream and I woke up with a brief, happy memory of it. Brief. Less than one hour later the first sentence of this blog is the only morsel I retain. Efforts to recall more lead to nowhere and I'm pretty much resigned to the short piece that I have. Pretty much. Haha, does that bug?

I used to be a fanatic about taking notes. I made sure to download COLOR NOTE on my phone because it's awesome and helps me organize the epiphanies, funny episodes, lists, etc. of which I need to keep track. I have fallen out of this habit and the result is great ideas lost to the abyss of my forgetfulness. 

Exhibit "B"

On my way from Job 1 to Job 2, I thought of a great topic for today's blog but I didn't write it down and after racking my brain I still can't remember it. In the words of  Professor Dumbledore, "It does not do to dwell on dreams, but yet to live. Remember that." I'll take comfort in that statement and move on.

I love audiobooks and today I finished Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. This second attempt was way more enjoyable than my first and I'm actually excited to start the Chamber of Secrets. The narrator Jim Dale is amazing and he does a remarkable job with Hagrid's voice in particular. The one drawback is my feigned Kiwi accent is becoming more British after listening to him for over 8 hours. I would love to listen to a book read by a Kiwi!

Here are some quick photos from the movie. [I like pictures on the blog. Pinterest and media in general have wired me for visual stimulization.]

 I really like the contrast in size between Harry and Hagrid.

One of my favorite scenes:  Not Slytherin.

Donuts Rina.

Me:  Who are you gonna text?

Mum:  I don't know. You guys!

Me:  I don't want to get texts from you.

Mum:  Eh, just show me.

[after the demonstration]

Mum:  So what do I do?

Me:  [frustrated] Touch the applications icon

Mum:  Like this?

Me:  No, the middle one.

Mum:  I am, but it's not working.

Me:   Watch where you touch, your fingers are big.

Mum:  [a little miffed]  What?

Me:  I mean, we all have big fingers. 

Her first text:

What's upM?

What the heck? Now I really don't want to get text messages from her. My mum finally entered the 21st century with her mobile phone. When a cell phone is cheaper than a landline and your 64 year old mum has to adjust to a touchscreen smartphone you know you've entered a different era.

My older sister came over tonight to visit and all I hear from the living room is...

Mommy?! What are you doing?

Mum:  I'm practicing

Buffy:  Stop taking pictures of me!

Haha. We've created a monster. I hope she doesn't figure out how to turn the shutter sound off!

Dinner Rina.

Thanks to Adam and Eve, we have to wear clothes. Oh yeah, and thanks to them we were also born, so I guess we're even.

Every two weeks, sometimes three, I gather the mental and physical wherewithal to load up the Willy and drag my three to four loads of laundry the next city over. It's possibly a conspiracy hatched by the local land developer that the only non-owner laundry facilities in the city belong to its apartment communities. Someone could make a killing if they opened a laundromat here that charged reasonable rates. Even when I did live in the apartments, I sometimes opted for a short drive and a savings of at least $3 to $5.

A little over a year ago one of my soccer teammates shared a homemade laundry detergent recipe with me. It's pretty simple (check out onegoodthingbyjillee.com for the recipe and lots of other great money saving gems) and my mum is only half way through that original batch. I believe the cost of detergent per load is about four cents. Think about it. You buy a 96 load bottle of detergent for $6 and it costs you about six cents per load. For a dollar or two more you could make all the detergent you'll need for the rest of the year. It's pretty amazing, so amazing that my mother had to tell other people, who told other people who decided that the next enrichment evening at church (a time when all the adult women get together to share recipes and ideas) should be dedicated to homemade laundry products...to be led by yours truly. Hmmm. 

I have to say that I got a lot of help from a particular teammate - RINA! - or Raina, whatever she decides to be called that day. She was everywhere, doing everything, anticipating my needs and making sure the soap was being completed behind the scenes. I truly would've lost my mapos without her. Thanks Romeo!

We demoed a dry detergent, two liquid detergents and a fabric softener. In planning the night I worried that only teaching one laundry product would be too short and not a good enough reason for these sisters to leave their families for one night and use precious gas and time to show up to Enrichment. I decided to add a few more products to the line up and before I knew it, we had our four recipes -- probably one too many. There was great participation and lots of laughter. 

One particular incident involved me, a brand new bottle of V05 conditioner and overactive hands. The fabric softener recipe we used calls for 2 cups of conditioner, I think 3 cups of vinegar and some water. As I was soliciting assistance from the sisters they suddenly gasped and I belatedly realized that my excited hands had compressed the bottle of conditioner and a heaping flow was falling out of the top. That sister was a good sport, she got a healthy amount of conditioner on her hands as I passed her the bottle.

I also noticed that the sisters, all of whom are Samoan, do not honor the measurements of a recipe. 1 cup was more like 7/8 or 5/6 in almost every instance. Each sister went home with a few bottles of laundry samples to try and I'm hoping not to be approached on Sunday if some of those recipes weren't as effective as they should've been.

I have to say it was kind of fun, but I'm not sure that I would share any new discoveries with my mum. I'd like to avoid future tutorials if possible.

warm sleep

"I'm having a heat attack"

This is how my boss prefaced asking me to point the office fan at her. It has been a hot couple of weeks and I am so excited for my next California winter -- moderate temperatures between the 70s and 80s.

The winters between '06 and '08 were hands down the coldest seasons of my life. I was living in Utah at the time, serving a 19-month LDS mission. I remember bundling myself in pretty much anything I could get my hands on. I found a man's trench coat in my first apartment and even though I couldn't button it [stares down at the culprits - hips] I wore that jacket open over sweaters, 2 layers of shirts, skirts, shorts, crocheted socks under my tights, etc. 

I remember leaving the MTC on September 27, 2006 thinking I'd have plenty of time to shop for a decent winter coat, but the weather turned from fall to winter within the week and I was shivering me timbers until I pulled together the funds for a decent wool jacket. On a side note, plus size is very difficult to find at a thrift store.

Today we got a brief break from the heatwave we've been enduring, but the rain didn't last long. It's safe to say that I look forward to a typical California winter and I hope that it arrives quickly.

loads and soap.

At Monte Vista Elementary we took class pictures in two lines, one seated on blue benches and a standing line behind. Our names were listed from left to right underneath the printed photograph. I'm not sure if this was a replacement for a yearbook, but I do know that a yearbook at that time in my education would have been pointless. I don't remember most of those people and I think we could barely write.

In my kindergarten or first grade photo I'm seated front and center. I'm adorable! My full, shiny head of STRAIGHT hair is braided and still somewhat neat, it must've been toward the beginning of the school day. I'm wearing a white shirt and capri outfit with large, red hibiscus flowers all over, courtesy of my mum and her sewing machine. I think I was seated next to one of my best friends Stephen Espinoza, and to his right a girl, I think her name is Jessica, with a cute white shirt and black skirt is demurely seated. I remember staring at the photo as an adult and noticing that my calves are markedly more muscular than Jessica's, probably even than Stephen's, lol. It was at that point that I realized I was never really small. I was never made fun of for my husky build, in fact, I think maybe some of the boys were jealous! 

Fast forward 23 years, give or take, and husky has turned into obese. My friends and I enjoy a tennis game once in a while and today was the first game in over 6 months. After 20 minutes of "rally" I was exhausted. You know those weightloss TV shows where the trainer gets in the fatty's face and tells them to "man up", "give me more", "you can do it"? Yes well, I think I reached that point after the rally, but my awesome friends were ready for a best of seven tournament, really guys? Personally, I was ready to stop at best of three. In the end we worked out for a good 40 minutes...20 minutes past my quitting time if I were on my own that day. 

Great friends encourage you and don't let you give up on yourself...even when they don't know they're doing so much for you :) Thanks be to my soccer team!

snore alarm.

Open, Open, Open

I always thought these commercials were annoying. @0:28. Imagine my surprise when yesterday the perfect opportunity to use this chant fell into my lap.

We were sitting in primary, listening to Sis. Talili's respect-themed sharing time.

Jasmine: I'm gonna die alone.
Me: What?
Jasmine: Because I'm never getting married. I don't want to do the whole marriage, wife, mother thing.
Me: O.kay
Jasmine: [exuberantly] Do you live with your mom?
Me: Yes
Jasmine: I think I'm gonna do that.
[pause]

Me: You know, you may change your mind. You should leave your options open. You never know...
Jasmine: [serious face] Nope. All my options are closed. [more rambling about being alone]

She super caught me off guard. If it comes up again I'll be sure to mention that even single people aren't alone and encourage her to keep her options open, lol.

That's the extent of the Facebook coverage this exchange received. This experience reminded me that regardless of whether or not I'm trying to be an example, good or bad, people are paying attention. Jasmine's young and I'm sure she'll change her mind over and over again, realize her teacher isn't as cool az as she thought I was and establish her own pattern. She hasn't been dealt the easiest of hands, but she does have people who love and support her. I pray that she'll consider the full gamut of options before she decides to shut those doors.

racquets and shoes.

Who is it?

Hi! My name is Twailla. I wasn't quite ready to make this blog my namesake, but I decided stamping my name somewhere on it would inspire me to take some pride of ownership. 

Tango. Sierra. Mike. These are not people I know in real life, but they are my initials in the U.S. military alphabet. I'm United-States-ian. I never thought it was cool to call ourselves American, as if Canada, Mexico and the rest of the Americans didn't exist. Nevertheless, I have been known to call myself American. I am also LDS, Samoan, Californian and inquisitive.

LDS - aka a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am a gospel library/mormon channel app, seminary, girls camp, YSA, all of the above Mormon. Probably tied with my ethnic heritage, this "me" fact has had the greatest influence on who and how I am.

My people are from Samoa. I was born in the U.S. I am a second generation American. It's amazing how much a language and culture can be lost in just one generation. I don't speak Samoan and my appreciation for ethnic dance didn't come until later in life (this life that is not quite 30 years long :P). I can tell you one thing:  I eat like a Samoan!

I was born and raised in California! Coastal weather; an ethic, tossed-salad community; amusement parks; and beach days characterize my SoCal experience.

I like facts and niggling questions bother the heck out of me. I have been known to settle many a dispute via Google, mostly mid conversation. Only tried and tested individuals are taken at their word, and even that is rare; all others are verified (or nullified) by Google; Wikipedia; Yahoo! Answers, etc.

This feels like a profile or some other here I am, look at me attempt, but isn't that what all blogging is about? A record of who you are; what you've done; where you've been; how you think and when it's all done, you've got a neat, chronological "Exhibit A" for why you are the way you are. Unless, of course, you're not being truthful.

So there you have it:  your first glimpse into the jumbled, beautiful mind (it's all relative), of Twailla. There goes the neighborhood ;)

Lazy Labor Day