MTC Address

SISTER ALISON JONES
MTC Mailbox # 252
CHI-RAN 1215
2005 N 900 E
Provo, Utah 84604-1793

Alison's estimated departure date for Chile will be December 15th.

"Hermana Jones"

okay, bye now

My lovely mother volunteered herself to update my blog while I'm gone. She will be copy and pasting my letters. THANKS MOM!!! Audios!

here's some incentive to write me

The day before the day before I leave on my mission has been filled with last minute shopping, friends, family, and PACKING. I've managed to fit way more stuff in two suitcases than I ever thought possible. Though I'm not so sure I'm meeting the weight limit... However, during my packing I realized I am going to want some kind of stationary, you know something to jazz up my letters a bit. As I rummaged through a drawer in the big kitchen cabinet thingy I fell across one of the most priceless items ever. My Lisa Frank sticker and stationary collection. Feelings of nostalgia welled up in my heart as I remembered my pre-teen years being somewhat infatuated with pen-pals and all the stationary that went with it. One of my most constant pen-pals would have to be my dear friend Kylee. No matter the stickers, glitter, or colored paper I sent her way, I always received something back that would amount be to greater than or equal to my letter's coolness. I think I can even remember receiving a letter on Trix the Rabbit stationary that had scratch and sniff fruit all over it. Conclusion: Scratch and sniff paper trumps all. This journey I am about to embark on, what is the mission, will most definitely not be without the Lisa Frank stationary and sticker collection. What would a letter be without dogs and giant strawberries, hugging penguins, and unicorns? No really, you tell me.

Find Joy in The Journey

Okay, I've started this blog like 4 different times, and nothing I begin with is coming out how I want it. So, instead of some kind of introduction, I'm just going to jump right in to it.

I'm really going to miss working at The Journey. Alright, organizing papers and meticulously auditing files will not be longed for when I'm done (though my office buddies will be missed), but the part of my job where I get to work with the kids will definitely hold a tender spot in my heart. These guys are incredible and are doing something much more than learning how to live and maintain a sober life. They are turning their whole world around. For some, all that was known in their lives up until now was drugs, gangs, and sex. A happy life is something of a foreign state. Others grew up in a fairly secure home, but within a short time had nearly destroyed all trust from their loved ones. Though some kids make it obvious that they have no interest of sincerely changing, there are those who understand that they have potential to regain what they lost (love, trust, futures) if they work hard and make a change. I love the kids and I am so grateful that I was able to work just a little bit with them before I leave. I have learned a lot about myself by working here, and more than anything I've learned a lot from the kids.

It is fitting that in our office we have a sign hung up that says "Find Joy in the Journey," since, as mentioned above the company is called "They Journey." And what a beautiful reminder for us to trek forward with a positive perspective. It makes me think of a talk given at a fireside by Brad Wilcox a few years ago. He said "If you can laugh with it, you can live with it." Which reminds me (even though this isn't really relevant) that my family during dinner tonight started talking about one of our former pet birds. Little bird was a finch, who, through a slightly comical and a very unfortunate series of events, found death. As my dad was telling the story of what happened he started laughing, a lot. Soon my whole family (though Cali thought were all heartless), was nearly rolling in laughter. Okay, so maybe we are heartless, I guess you just had to be there... Anyway, back to what I was saying... President Monson's talk this October's session of Conference Finding Joy in the Journey was a bright message of hope and perspective. To live each day to it's fullest. He pleads with us to "not let the most important things in life pass you by...but to instead, find joy in the journey-now." Life is ever changing, and some change, like with the Journey kids is needed, and some is inevitable. Whatever change finds us in whichever state, let us try to find joy in it.

And when I left, a couple of the kids made me some bomb art work that I wanted to share with the world.

Check out this beautiful piece. Can you find the hidden word?? It took me a minute.

one small step for women, one big step for me

After much deliberation and careful assessment, I have made the laborious decision that Mr. Blowdryer/Diffuser will not make the long anticipated trek to Chile with me... gasp!! No, no, I know what you're all thinking, I in fact do not intend on being nappy Sister Ugs throughout my mission. Instead I have found an alternative way of doing my hair. Blowdryer/diffuser are just much too bulky to make the cut.

Snots (the title was supposed to be "shots", but I liked the typo better)

I've had my call for over 3 months, and I put off getting my mission immunizations till now. 2 weeks before leaving. After paying 200 dollars at the health department to get shot up because they don't take our insurance, I was called into a lovely little torture chamber. What? No foldable bed with the noisy butcher paper to lay on? All there was for me to place my bottom on was a little black chair that had wheels on it. I could picture it now - the foretaste of my doom too much handle and I face plant on the floor. Or maybe ( if I have enough self control to not pass out), the nurse will lean in to poke my mushy skin...but can't find my flesh because I'd rolled away and out the door in my rolly chair...

Neither of these happened, instead as I sat there the nurse asked if I was okay, and commented on my skin color (no, she wasn't racist, I was just losing all color). My feeble response was "I just dislike shots." I wasn't surprised when my voice cracked from the strain of holding back what probably would have been a sob if my pride didn't get the better of me. The nurses reaction was simple. She stood up and grabbed a juice box from the fridge. She handed me the juice and a smile. Whether it was for comfort, or to better my chances of not passing out, I don't know. But I liked it. However, my comfort was shattered by three consecutive stabs to my arm. And heart. I felt betrayed, like a kid who is decoyed into doing something they didn't want to do. But what's done is done, and at least I wont get terribly ill while in a foreign country, right?