Top 10 of 2011

Here's a shortlist of pop culture items I loved in 2011:

1. Best TV (most important things first): This show. I watched a little bit of its first season and didn't care for it much. I felt it was trying too hard to be the Office. But when I moved in September we didn't have Internet or cable for a few weeks so I borrowed season two from the library and really enjoyed it. Its clever, the characters are fully fleshed out, developed and one of the most unique things about it is its kind. I feel like so much of humor on TV is mean spirited. This show is really sweet and its still really funny. Ron Swanson is THE man. In a culture where man children are the norm and there's a perceived crisis of masculinity its refreshing to see a character on TV that is manly to his core.

2. My favorite album this year was this one. I think one of things I like about Coldplay (and what other people like too) is how reliable they are. Its not thought provoking, its not confrontational, its not political its just enjoyable. Their songs are vaguely revolutionary. They build and build and are really about nothing but they somehow make you feel like you belong to something greater. It makes me feel good to be human. So it may not have challenged or changed anything but it sure was enjoyable to listen to.

3. My favorite song I couldn't listen to was this one. I don't think Adele got enough radio play this year. Would someone play that girl's songs? People should really be hearing them. (wink)

4. I'm sad to say that most of my reading this year happened online. But the books I enjoyed the most this year was a young adult series known as the Flavia de Luce Mysteries. They're about a precocious 11 year old girl in 1950 England who has a passion for chemistry and solving mysteries. The author is in his seventies and had a background in engineering before he retired and tried his hand at writing novels. The writing is witty. The characters are colorful. They are a delight.

5. One of my favorite movies was this one. It was charming. Rachel Mccadams was so obnoxiously American (West Coast snob to get more specific). Hemmingway was so hilariously dramatic and literal. The Fitzgerald's were fun and Owen Wilson's baffled enjoyment was well played.

6. I love the Muppets. And I loved the movie. I thought it was a great reincarnation for them. Jason Segel and Amy Adams are probably the most muppety actors working today. I thought the song writing by Bret McKenzie (of Flight of the Concord's) was clever and cute. I just smiled through the whole show. I wish Hollywood put out more movies that weren't mean, violent, sexual or sad and that were just clever and fun. Movies made for the lovers, the dreamers and me.

7. I came a little late to the Netflix game but I would not be honestly chronicling my year if I didn't include it. Instead of reading in bed I've been watching Arrested Development, 30 Rock, Sherlock Holmes, Downtown Abbey and really nerdy documentaries. My brain is probably rotting. Kids these days.

8. Although I would never let it get me kicked off a plane I do like Words with Friends. I've been playing Scrabble online for a few years now. And while I still prefer the traditional Scrabble apps on Facebook and my mobile device (iPod) I'm glad that Words with Friends has hit the big time and I now have many opponents. If you'd like me to kick you trash, please, start a game with me.

9. Spotify hasn't changed my life by any means but I'm really glad that I can see what friends are listening to and check new music out without paying for it. It feels like legal piracy. Which feels pretty good. Its probably really great for new artists. Probably bad news for the music industry at large.

10. I watched Downton Abbey when it originally aired (in January or February?)for the first time here in the states on Masterpiece Theater on PBS. I loved it and thought it was great. I didn't talk about it much because I thought it was one of those nerdy things that only I like and other people think are weird (i.e. dog shows). So I didn't really talk it up. Once it hit Netflix though all my friends were talking about it and I'm glad I could join in the conversation. It was a great miniseries. I'm really excited for the second season this month!

So there are my top 10 favorite pop culture items for 2011. It was a good year. Here's to a great 2012.

Resolution (no not that kind)

So the resolution to the situation from my previous post (which was two months ago, oy) Came last night.

To summarize: Went out with a guy in August. He texted me to death through September. Quit texting me until November. I finally told him I would love to talk to him and that he should call me sometime. He never did. On December 25, 2011 he wished me a Merry Christmas. Last night he sent me a long text explaining to me that he had a girlfriend and that's why he never asked me out again. (Let me remind you that we went out ONCE in AUGUST)

I responded by deleting his contact information.

I'm tired.

Do I want to know?

Friends,

I need your honest opinions.

The last date I went on was at the end of August (and it took an inordinate amount of work on my part to happen). The date was fine. He's a nice guy. There weren't really sparks but I left feeling like I would go again if he asked.

He proceeded to text me on a daily basis. Which got a little annoying. But what really bugged is there was never any mention of going out again. The fact that he was texting indicated he was interested so why not follow up with another date, I wondered? So I asked him if he was going to ask me out again. He said he was waiting for the right time. Apparently it never came because after about a month (no joke) of texting it slowly petered out and stopped.

Whatevs, I thought.

Until yesterday. When he texted me again. He asked how I was, what was new, how was teaching etc. etc. This was all during the work day and my answers were admittedly clipped (I was working after all). This evening he rather pertinently asked if I wanted to know how he was doing. I haven't replied because I don't know if I want to know.

The part of me that sounds most like my mom says "Don't judge him you don't know what he's been through. And maybe he could be The One if only you would be more open minded and less picky"

The romantic part of me hopes that The One would never treat me this way.

The desperate part of me is just happy for some attention (remember this is the last date I went on in AUGUST. And no one has even looked at me since then).

The arrogant part of me thinks that he must not know a good thing when he sees it. And if he had any idea what he was missing he'd be breaking down my door this minute.

The spiteful part of me is super mad I don't have a handsome, six figure making boyfriend by now to shove in his face.

The bored part of me wants to let it play out.

The self-respecting part of me knows that I would not tolerate this kind of treatment from a friend. Let alone a boyfriend.

So friends, what do you think? Am I going to ask him how he is? Do I care? I guess it depends what part of me you're asking.

Update: Without me saying anything he just let me know that he was good and that he just bought a new car.

You know you're old when...

For most of my life my dad has lived in a very remote part of Utah. When I was a kid and he'd come down from his mountain to see me, he and my stepmom had a lot of things they needed to get done while the were in the big city. Things like buy groceries. One of the regular stops they made was at RC Willey. I HATED going to RC Willey. It took so long! It was just standing around, listening to grown-ups talk about boring stuff (side note: When I was very small I used to think that when grown-ups talked to each other they were speaking a different language because I never understood any of it.). Well today, life has come full circle. Today I wandered into RC Willey of my own free will and choice. Because I wanted to. This is how I know I'm old.

Then tonight in a totally unconnected incident my friend Molly told me that she knew she was old when all the players on her favorite sports teams started becoming younger than her.

This got me thinking and I've thought of a whole bunch of those instances. The following is a list of moments when I knew I was old:

• When I realized I was older than all the heroines in any coming of age novel I read.
• When, as a teenager, pushing my youngest sister around in a shopping cart, I got asked how old my baby was.
• Being the oldest of seven and having three siblings over twenty
• Getting my health insurance card in the mail with only my name on it.
• I realized that Lagoon sucks. And Halloween.
  
• Listening to NPR everyday and liking it.
  
• Being mistaken for a PARENT of a student instead of student (why do they never think I'm a teacher?!)
  
• My two youngest sister's not knowing who Timon and Pumba are
• Having to buy toilet paper for the first time
• Being able to remember a time before you had to take your shoes off to go through airport security
• When, at 14 years old, I got hit on by a Chili's waiter. In front of my mom.
  

When did you know you were old?

For Your Enjoyment

From a student during an in class free write:

I like meats from the pig the best like ham, bacon, pork chops and sausage. I even go and make a little wedding for them (they honeymoon in my stomach). I also love ribs. I can eat a full rack of them.

I like people who know what they like.

I have a really good group of seventh graders. They are surprisingly polite and sweet. They are enthusiastic and still childlike unlike eighth and ninth graders who are moody and over it. Also Utah Studies while not a totally thrilling course to teach is perfect for me because I've got the content down pat, which makes things much easier.

Risking my Biscuit

I moved this weekend. I've lived in the condo in Holladay for two years which is the longest I've lived anywhere since I graduated from high school. Which is kind of significant. During my time there I had six roommates. All but one of them has gotten married or engaged during those two years. I had no complaints about where I was living but its tough and kind of annoying to keep four bedrooms filled when there's no lease and people are getting married every 4-6 months.

So Jill and I (the remaining unmarried roommate if you are keeping score) decided to move to a smaller two bedroom apartment. We've both acknowledged that we're on a slippery slope.

Let me back up. Earlier this spring (about the same time Jill and I were first considering downsizing and relocating) I was chatting with a married friend at work who is the same age as myself. She was telling me how a fellow co-worker struck her as odd because she was in her late 20's, single, rarely went on dates, had one female roommate who she had lived with for quite some time and the pair of them were looking for a new place to live but were having a hard time finding a place that would accommodate their adopted cat and dog. She's telling me this with a raised eyebrow and a tone that suggests something is not quite congruent with this "lifestyle" and the tell-tale signs of devout Mormonism she had seen on this woman.

I became increasingly horrified as I realized that she was describing my life in three or four years if nothing changes. Jill had even suggested to me that if we found a place that would allow pets that we should get a dog. I thought it sounded like a good idea.

Cut to Scene 2: Jill had been invited to a work barbeque and her boss, aware of her relationship status, encouraged her to bring someone. As is the usual with Jill (and myself) she had no male friends she felt comfortable asking. She does home health and so she never really sees any of the people she works with thus doesn't really know any of them. Although she knows all of them are married. Feeling like she might be uncomfortable at the party she called her boss and asked if she could bring her roommate (me). Her boss's reply: "Well, sure, if you want to risk it." Risk what? inquired Jill. "You know, people thinking...." his voice trailed off.

Really folks? Really? Is this what my life is going to be like? People talking about me with raised eyebrows and hinting suggestions? I'm a single, LDS woman. Too old to live with my family, and I'd rather not live alone so what options do I have? This doesn't seem fair.

Good thing Jill and I have a good sense of humor about it. Our ward went mini-golfing for home evening and not having cash, Jill asked if I would spot her for her ticket. I replied "Sure, if you want to risk it". I asked her if she wanted to run to Wal-Mart to pick up some stuff for our new place and she said, "Sure, if you want to risk it".

Apparently we're risking a lot these days.

Are you listening Universe?

Jillian has suggested to me that if you say out loud (or write) the qualities you would like in a man the Universe, having a wicked and twisted sense of humor, will grant you the opposite. Take my friend Rachelle for example...she always said she would never marry someone who was younger than her nor in the military. She found both those things in the same man that she will wed in August.

So, because my choice has yet to manifest himself I figure I better cover my bases and articulate the things that I DON'T want in such a way that makes me sound like I DO want them in the hopes of tricking the Universe into giving me the perfect man.

It'll probably work.

Listen up Universe!

• I want a man who is short enough that his eyes meet my collar bone.
• Who is skinny enough I could wrap my arms around him twice.
• Who is so young his facial hair is patchy and fuzzy.
• Who doesn't have more than a high school education and has no intention of getting more.
• Who currently doesn't have a job.
• Who spends the time he should be looking for a job playing video games.
• He lives with his parents, of course, due to the lack of job and his mom does all his laundry and ironing.
• He has an on-again/off-again relationship with the gospel.
• He has a problem with porn but tells me he doesn't.
• Will only eat at Burger King and hates fruits and vegetables.
• Wants to live and die within 10 miles of where he was born. And hates to travel.
• Doesn't know where Iraq is on a map.
• Who is either so far to the left or right that you can't discuss any issue with him.
• Loves guns.
• Hates the water.
• Never does any house work.
• Doesn't like kids.
• Asks me for sandwiches.
• etc...etc...etc...

I'll stop there. I wouldn't want anyone to accuse me of being picky.

Geography Quiz/FREE MOVIE PASS!!!!!

(I posted this on Fbook too. If you want to respond I'll see it faster there.)

Check out this map:

It is a visual representation of Facebook users world wide. This map tells us a lot about the world. If you'll notice you can see the definition of some regions of the world while others have no definition. Some of the biggest countries of the world are missing completely. If you can tell me why the following areas of the map are undefined or dark I will give you a free Larry H. Miller movie pass. No joke. If you get the right answers and do not live somewhere where a Larry H. Miller movie pass does you any good I will figure out a prize of equal value. Good luck!

1. Northern Canada -

2. Northern/Central South America -

3. Northern Africa -

4. Central Africa -

5. Western Austrailia -

6. Russia -

7. China -

Inbox me your answers if you don't want anyone else riding your coatails. Otherwise post in the comments!

(I love geography!)

This is for you Becks...

A few thoughts about summertime which seems to be the destination season. Every other season is just a journey to summertime:

• My mom bought me a short sleeved jersey sheath dress to just wear casually for the summer. I've worn it out twice and let me tell you...that dress is going to get me married. Or pregnant more likely. Both times I've had strange men stop and tell me (in nice ways and in naughty ways) what they think of my dress.

• I've been given the opportunity to teach swim lessons for a few weeks this summer. The way it all played out has been a much needed reminder that God has a hand in my life. In December our ward had a silent charity auction. The only thing I could think of to offer up was some swim lessons. Our ward has a lot of triathlon buffs and swimming is usually everyone's weakest leg. So I thought someone might be interested in learning better technique. But I didn't really want to do it. I got anxiety about having to be in a swim suit in front of someone, having a pervy dude win it, or worst of all having no one bid. I did it anyway and the guy that won it went on to suggest me as an instructor to his friend who had done all the registration for lessons at the beginning of the summer and was high and dry without an instructor. So during my current employment crisis I've gladly stepped in. I'm getting paid well, mom's are impressed and want to add more lessons which means more money, I'm getting a killer tan, and I'm making great friends with the woman I'm working for. All because I didn't hide under a bushel in December!

• Since the end of May I've had the chance to travel quite a bit. I treated myself to a trip to New York for my birthday and went and saw my friends Whit and Chad. I could live in New York just for all the food that's there. You could eat at a different place every night for the rest of your life.
  

• Stray observations: New Yorkers aren't rude, they are just very efficient. I watched a New Yorker curse out a guy trying to get past him as we were de-boarding the plane but then turn around and help an older lady get her bag down and let her go past. I just think there's so little space in that city that every movement or action is meant to be done to maximum effect. Also, in a land where smart phone batteries die quickly, the girl with the paper subway map is king!

• Last week I went to Alaska with my Dad's family. My dad in Alaska is like a kid in a candy store. The first morning we were there it was like Christmas morning for him. If they weren't already so established where they are in Dutch John I think they would move there. Alaska is everything you think is is and more: beautiful, remote, dangerous, cold, Repulican, everyone packs, wild. It was really crazy. We went on a hike and our host, my dad's cousin, who works on an oil rig, wore a giant handgun strapped to his chest in case of bears. Yikes. He also drove like a crazy person. I never knew if I should feel safer or more in danger around him. We fished a lot but didn't have much luck. My brother caught a king salmon and we watched a guy land a record breaking 350 pound halibut. That was cool.

• My favorite part though was our cruise in the Kenai fjords. I could've done that everyday that we were there. I saw otters, porpoises, seals, sea lions, bald eagles, humpbacks, orcas and we went right up the the face of a glacier and got to see (and hear!) it calve (I don't know why but that's what they call it when the ice breaks of and falls in the ocean). It was really cool.

So that's my summer so far. Garden is growing, so are the weeds. The wedding is fast approaching. And Kerrie finally bit the bullet and bought a ticket out here. I thought she was going to stand me up.

I'm going to do a better job of updating. I can't commit to weekly but maybe biweekly?

Cul de Sac

Imagine with me a hypothetical situation:

You're a female who was born of goodly parents who were members of the dominant faith in the area in which you were born. From a very early age you were taught about a plan for your mortal and immortal life. We'll call this Plan A. As you grew Plan A was taught to you over and over again by people you loved and trusted until eventually you realized that you had adopted The Plan as a part of yourself. You believed it body and soul and you knew that Plan A was the way you wanted your life to go. There was no other way really.

At about the same time you came to an age (your teens probably) where you realized that life could disappoint you you also realized that you can't control everything to get what you wanted. This was when someone wise told you that you should always be prepared and have a Plan B. You shouldn't forget about Plan A...it was still top priority but you'd be silly and naive to not have a Plan B, given that so much of Plan A depended on circumstances outside your control.

So, you spend a lot of money and a lot of time on Plan B. Its a good plan. It looks good from all angles (*cough summers off cough*) as a less desirable but satisfying substitute for Plan A. One day, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, you're ready to put Plan B into action. (Along the way you may have made some well intentioned but naive missteps trying to force Plan A into happening).

But...through some misguided and unhelpful counseling from a Certain Secondary Education Program at a Certain University and a sudden downturn in the US economy you are virtually unemployable and Plan B is looking like nothing more than an expensive piece of paper. You try for two and a half years to get Plan B to happen and its just not happening...You've reached a dead end. There's no Plan C.

Why didn't somebody tell me I needed a Plan C? Hypothetically...

I'm open to any and all sincere suggestions for a Plan C. I don't know which direction to try in anymore. If you were debt free and unattached what would YOU do?

Yoko Oh-No!

I doubt I'm the first to make that pun...

I've been watching the Beatle's Anthology on Youtube at school while I do my recording and other mindless housekeeping tasks. I recently got to the part in the narrative where Yoko makes her creepy, unwanted appearance. Of course I don't like Yoko as a rule but today I realized why. Pre-Yoko John was always laughing, smiling, joking. He had a great sense of humor. Then Yoko came around and there wasn't a single smile between the two of them.

Seriously. No smiling. They kept talking about how in love with each other they were but doesn't love make you happy? They look so gloomy and serious all the time.

If I ever fall in love with someone and you see no smiles, please someone do what you have to to get rid of me before I break up the band.

The Interpretation of Amputation

Couple nights ago I had a dream that I found a small lump on my right hand. In my dream I saw a doctor for something routine like a physical and thought maybe it would be a good idea to show her (the doctor was a woman...I bet you assumed it was a man didn't you? Racist.) the lump.

Without doing anything more than looking at it the doctor gave me some serious news.

Dream Doctor: Yes, we'll have to amputate.

Dream Me: I'm sorry?

DD: Your arm. This is very serious. You'll lose your arm below your elbow.

DM: That seems pretty severe. Don't you want to biopsy it? Or maybe just cut out the lump?

DD: Nope. I've seen this before. Amputation is the only solution.

DM: I think I want a second opinion.

I woke up and did a quick count of my limbs.

Later I shared my dream with my aunt. Who helpfully had her dream book (a book that interprets your dreams...it was like a dream dictionary) out in her car. She ran and got it.

First she looked up lump (see also tumor/cancer) which represented hopelessness, self-pity, loss or waste of life.

Then amputation: something in your life, a belief, is weighing you down, holding you back that you need to let go of or cut loose (a little on the nose maybe). Amputation of the right arm specifically meant that you aren't giving enough to yourself or others (left hand meant you weren't receiving enough).

Finally a doctor in a dream represents a spiritual guide to help you on your path of healing.

Eerily, this kind of hit a mark with me. Maybe my aunt is the next Joseph. I'll keep a sharp eye and see if she predicts the death of a baker.

After the interpretation of my dream my grandma asked my aunt to look up what it meant if she dreamed that she went to Wendover with Brother and Sister Johnson to help them find a condo...the dream dictionary is good... but I don't know if its that good.

Stray Observations

• Last week I learned the hard way to not show un-previewed videos in my classroom. In the thirty seconds it took me to realize we were in trouble and get to the VCR my ninth graders were granted the sight of some wildebeests humping and a topless Masai woman. The room filled with their cries of indignation and faux-lost innocence and threats to tell parents/administration. As soon as I turned it off and told them to get out their books they were all mad we weren't going to forge ahead and finish the video. Everyday since then I've had at least one student ask if we were going to finish that video.

• I'm convinced that my geography students will always find the most potentially inappropriate name of a physical feature/place and that's the first one they learn/yell loudest during reviews/never get wrong on a test. This unit's name of choice: Djibouti, natch.

• I had a text conversation with my sister recently where she expressed that she wouldn't be upset about not going to prom if it wasn't the only thing people could talk/think about. I told her I felt the same way about marriage or "prom for adults".

• Speaking of prom I had a memory the other day of my own prom experience. My date was the class president and somehow I ended up being nominated prom queen (nobody was more surprised than me). The whole thing was rather silly. I remember after the nominations were announced in the morning announcements there were three popular, pretty, cheerleaders in my class seated in front of me. Overhearing their conversation I heard them list the three other nominees...And then ask "Who is the fourth girl?" Indeed. I sat and wondered if I should enlighten them and face their reaction or just let them live in their ignorance.
  

• A student came into class singing the new Lupe single. When I asked him if he liked Lupe he looked surprised and asked "You know Lupe?" I replied in the affirmative. "Did you like, go to high school with him?" Bless his heart.

• My ward had a mingle recently. The item served? Corn dogs. Best. Mingle. Ever. I didn't even talk to anybody. Just ate two corn dogs. Best. Mingle. Ever.

• Within the 24 hours of April Fool's day I learned that 4 of my friends were pregnant. Only one of them was a joke. Congrats ladies! And happy appendicitis Aaron Bullen!(?)
  

Picking Flowers

My Grandpa Barton passed this week. It was expected and honestly a little relieving. For the past couple years he's been deteriorating and it was hard to watch and hard for him to experience, I'm sure.

He was such an active man. Excellent skier and tennis player, savvy businessman, devoted father and husband and a tireless servant of God. He served a full time mission in the central US, as a bishop in California, stake president in Chicago, Mission President in New York, New York and Temple President in Chicago. I'm sad he's gone but glad that he's already probably begun to work on the other side.

In his memory I wanted to share an anecdote that doesn't exist in my memory but one that my mom shared with me at his viewing.

My mom married Mark just after my second birthday. Mark's parents were serving as Mission President in New York City at the time. My brother Ryan showed up nine months later and as soon as he was old enough to travel we went out to spend some time with Grandma & Grandpa Barton. (Coincidentally I celebrated my third birthday on the trip and Elders Hunter and Holland were passing through the mission home at the time and thus were at my third birthday party. Elder Hunter remarked how much I looked like my grandmother but no one had the heart to tell him we weren't related by blood).

When it was time to go to church with Grandma and Grandpa my mom pulled out a new, floral, dress that she had not cleared with me before packing and like any good three year old I refused to wear it. (Apparently I was rather picky about my clothes.) Drama ensued. I was crying, which made the baby cry, which made my mom cry...etc. Mark had me pinned while mom tried to put tights on me. Mom said at one point I bloodied my nose from the fierceness of the struggle. (poor young mom dealing with her unruly child from a previous marriage under the roof of her brand new in-laws who happen to be the mission president of the New York, New York mission.)

At one point my grandma poked her head in and said "Heather, if you don't stop this right now you'll have to go to church in your slip!" "Great!" I replied hopping to my feet (I also had a great love of wearing only my underwear publicly. If you've lived with me you know that not much has changed.)

The battle raged on. Finally my grandpa popped his head in. "Heather, would you like to go out to the garden with me to pick a flower?" The room held its breath. "Yes." "Well, get that pretty dress on and come on!" Done deal.

No little girl can resist picking flowers with her grandpa.

DOA

Prepare yourselves for something truly awful:

Over the past year I've gone on more blind dates than anyone I know. I've lost count of how many men I've met. No exaggeration. Its far less fabulous than it sounds. I've tried to approach dating with the openest mind ever. I believe that you'll never make a basket if you don't shoot the ball. So I've been shooting the ball a lot.

Essentially my MO has been: if he has the guts to ask me to dinner I have the guts to say yes.

I think I'm done operating that way after tonight.

The back-story is pretty good all on its own but the punchline trumps it so I'll make it short.

At my cousin's wedding luncheon in June, my parents sat at the same table with two single friends of the groom. They were charmed. My mom thought I might enjoy going out with one of them. At the time my mind was at its openest to any and all dating experiences so I agreed. The man was given my number.

It took him 6 months to call me. The phone call was awkward. The lunch date was fine. I didn't hear from him again (which was more than fine) until after my mom had run into him at a mission farewell of one of my brother's friends. He asked about me and that incident must have encouraged him to call me again. After another PAINFULLY awkward phone call earlier this week I agreed to have dinner with him tonight.

The following conversation occurred during dinner and is in no way a fabrication or an exaggeration:

Me (trying to find something interesting to talk about): So do you live alone or do you have roommates?

Him: I have roommates...pause...well I live with my parents...pause...they're eighty so I help take care of them

I've never been great at math but I started crunching some numbers...

Me: So they must have had you pretty late. Were you a surprise there at the end?

Him: I'm not even the end

Me (starting to freak out): You grew up in Cottonwood Heights right? How old is your youngest sibling? Maybe I know them from school.

Him: You're in your 20s right?

Me: yeah...

Him: My youngest sibling is 40...I'm 47

You did not read that incorrectly. I'll type it again to make sure everyone got it...47!!!!!! That's within 5 years of my father and 4 of my mother. I feel sick as I type this.

He knew the date was over as soon as that number dropped. He had to of known (as I did but for very different reasons) that this date was DOA.

BUT WHY DID HE CALL ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! First date, fine. Its blind neither of us know what to really expect (except he had met my parents so he had to have had a good guess about my age). But why did he call me for a second when he knew he was so much older than me?

This has really pushed me to my limits. I'm done. Tapping out. I can't do it anymore. No more guilt about missing opportunities. My mind has been so open my brain has obviously fallen out. From now on I'm only going on dates I want to go on. Which is almost the same as saying I'm never going on a date again. I'm adopting a cat, naming her Emily Dickinson, wearing a zip up hoodie to work, keeping my ibuprofen and tampons in a fanny pack and pulling my hair up with a chip clip.

I'm sure this will all look better in the morning right?

Mind Reading

Remember the frustrations I brought up in this post?

Someone at the SLTrib must have read my mind.

I would love to hear any and all comments with regards to that article.

Oh, and Happy Valentines Day.

Pedestaling

Such an odd little culture we have isn't it?

I've always been the kind of girl who can do and LIKES to do for herself. I appreciate the offer, home teachers, but I can change a light bulb and take out the garbage myself. You know what else I'm pretty capable of doing? Putting up chairs and tables and opening doors. Now before you roll your eyes and think that I'm setting this post up to be some feminist rant...hang on and hear me out.

I think we as a culture are guilty of some unfair pedestaling. Which is not a word. But it will be once you understand what I'm saying.

How often have you heard it said, over the pulpit or otherwise, that women are more spiritual or in general, better creatures than men? At times I have been very guilty of this kind of thinking and I think that it is wrong. Its wrong because it sets women up on a pedestal. And makes base, lowly creatures out of men who need the priesthood to save them from their natural state of irresponsibility and inactivity. Wrong.

Remember that oft quoted talk that GBH gave where he said that it wasn't until woman was created that the work could be called good? (I couldn't find it with 30 seconds of searching or I would have linked it here). I don't think that the work couldn't be called good without women because we are so angelic and special. It couldn't be called good (or finished) because women are essential to the plan. Adam couldn't be without Eve and vice versa. Just like I can't declare myself dressed without both shoes on my feet, or my sandwich made without peanut butter AND jelly. We're necessary, not special.

Men in the church are taught to respect, protect, and provide for women which is all well and good but they shouldn't be revered.

Women the world over get put in second place so I'm grateful that the church does its best to given women their due but the problem I have with putting women on a pedestal is that it simplifies their good works and service as merely being part of their nature, and conversely that any good work by a man should be a congratulated surprise.

I'm so guilty of all of this its not even funny. So to make reparations I offer the following (write it down people as I have a history of rarely being complimentary to the Mormon man. Its an unattractive quality, I know.)

Men have it tough. They have heavy priesthood responsibilities that frankly I'm glad I don't have to deal with. They deal with pressure to be providers that I have never known. I know plenty of men that didn't go into fields they wanted to because they didn't feel they would make enough to provide for a family. Which seems unfair. It would be especially hard to feel like a useful provider in a world where women are increasingly able to provide for themselves. I truly believe that people become what you expect them to be and because of this "pedestaling" (women=angels, men=dogs) you are not given the credit that a Son of Adam deserves.

Now get it in gear and find someone to marry already. We're all waiting around for you and your childhood is over I'm sorry to tell you.

And as for not letting me put up chairs etc? I was put on this earth to work and to build the kingdom just like you. I'd rather work beside you than watch you do the work for me.

I think I have a total of two male readers. If you agree or disagree or have something to add from your POV I'd love you to comment privately or publicly.

The Magic Dress

What happens when your mom asks you to clear out some really old clothes out of your sister's closet that have been hanging there since you moved out?

You might re-encounter The Magic Dress that has infinite stretching capabilities. That encounter might look something like this...

Starts out simple enough...

Then there's the double wide shot...


Then little sister number two might want to join in...


There was some near strangulation involved due to height differences.

After some hard work the "hydra in a bad floral print" look is achieved.


Now getting out is another story...

Have a good week everyone!

Perpetual Adolescence

As I've mentioned before here at WHC being a single adult in the church can be tough. The most obvious reason for that is of course, the loneliness. I don't mean a "I have nothing to do this Friday night" lonely...its not a day to day lonely...Its like your life feels like coming home to an empty house. Which sounds REALLY depressing. I've got plenty of friends and family. And they are great at keeping me company but I lack that teammate we all crave. A witness to my life...

I'm going to stop all that before we all turn on our favorite Dashboard song and sit in the dark crying into a pillow. Loneliness is not what I wanted to write about today. Loneliness and being single is obvious. Thus boring.

The thing that has been burning through my brain today and for quite sometime now is how being a single adult in the church forces upon you a perpetual, and (in my case) unwanted adolescence.

The church is all about progression. Its one of its fundamental teachings and the reason why we are here on this Earth in the first place. We should always be moving forward, learning, growing. But I (as far as my point is concerned) am stalled. In the eternal progression of things...I am a teenager. And have you ever met a teenager? Or been one? It kinda sucks.

My point is most easily illustrated by comparing myself to my married peers. Lets start with the most petty things and work our way into the more serious ones.

FHE is a perfect example. Hey married readers, when was the last time you felt obligated on a Monday night to go and play human foosball in a church gym with similarly situated adults? Never? Maybe in college? I did a few weeks ago. And I really feel too old for it. Is it ok that I'm over activities like this? I don't want to get in a water balloon fight with a group of grown men and women. My married peers don't have to. Why do I?

Then there's the stuff. When you get married people give you a lot of nice stuff. Its like they're saying "You're getting married, which means you're growing up, which means you need grown up stuff." And you get nice things. You go to Bed, Bath and Beyond and register for exactly the stuff you want and people buy it for you. I can't afford that stuff by myself and I can't think of an excuse that would make people buy it for me...so here I am at 25 living like a college student still. I'm the same age as some of my married friends but yet not grown up enough to have nice stuff. To be fair, I have more money now than I did in college but because of my living situation (I share a condo with 4 single girls) I don't have the room to buy the nice things that my adult self wants to have. Told you I was going to get petty.

But the most glaring way I'm stuck in this adolescence is that most adult of adult activities is off limits to me. I won't get explicit for the sake of the sensitive souls out there (and because I recently learned that my youngest sister follows me. Hey Mary!) but literally in this way I'm asked to live the same exact way that was laid out for me as a 14 year old in the For Strength of Youth Pamphlet. I remember a seminary teacher pointing out the oddity of the practice of being a nun or a monk in the Catholic church. How God created us so that we could be together and have families. And what a perversion of His plan celibacy was. But here I sit as abstinate as Fraulein Maria (wow I didn't even realize it but that metaphor really works for me...I spend my day trying to reign in kids who don't respect me and I'm in close contact with attractive men with status and weath who are chasing an un-catchable woman).

Anyway, my point is I would give the whole contents of a Bed Bath and Beyond to not be excluded from that part of God's plan for me. (This of course includes the chance to be a mother naturally). I don't think God wants us to miss out on these important human experiences. So what's going on?

Maybe this is my (generation's) "pioneer trial". I don't have to walk across frozen Middle America and bury children in shallow, frozen, unmarked graves along the way but my faith is being tested by how well I can endure the feeling that I will never get to grow up, move forward, or progress.

Really though, at the end of the day, being single is a pretty cushy trial. Who wants to ski Park City with me on Saturday?