The Liberal Agnostic Who Could

It's Official.

2011-08-18T11:14:00.000-07:00

I SENT THE LETTER.

Yeah. That letter.

This morning.

It's toned down quite a bit from my original letter, but I think it works rather nicely.

Member Records Division, LDS Church
50 E North Temple Room 1372
SLC, UT 84150-5310
Cc: President of [My] Stake.
Bishop of What-Would-Be-Our-Ward

This letter is to inform you of our resignation from the church. We expect our names to be permanently and completely removed from the membership rolls of the church. Full names and birthdates are supplied below. The names and records of our children are also to be removed. They are: [kid #1] (her birthdate), [kid #2] (birthdate), and [kid #3] (birthdate). Our current address is [redacted].

We have considered this for a significant amount of time, resulting in disbelief in even basic tenets of the church. Recent events concerning Prop 8 and the words of certain senior leaders have compelled us to resign formally. We will not condone these actions, preaching, and behaviors by virtue of our membership and thus refuse official association with the church.

We understand you consider this a serious action and what you believe the consequences of resignation are. We are aware that the Church Handbook of Instructions says our resignation "cancels the effects of baptism and confirmation, withdraws the priesthood held by a male member and revokes temple blessings." We also understand that re-admittance is possible “by baptism only after a thorough interview."

We expect our resignations to be processed immediately, without any “waiting periods” and in full confidentiality and respect. After today the only contact we want from the church is a single letter of confirmation of our resignations, records and name removal. If a reason must be documented, “doctrinal issues” would be accurate.

Please also note that our bishop and stake president have been notified likewise.

Sincerely,

[Husband]
[Birthdate]

Me
[Birthdate]

Thoughts on a new blog

2011-07-08T09:46:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, I know, but I'm reconsidering my blog and seriously considering beginning another one. This doesn't seem to be working for me anymore.

The thing is, if and when I begin a new blog I am sure I will alienate about 90% of you--if not more. I totally understand (empathize) where many ex-mormons come from and why they need to bash on the church as often as humanly possible, but I'm not there. I have my beefs for sure, but I'm definitely one of your more privileged members. I have not attended a ward which included bishops who knowingly protected emotionally, physically, sexually and spiritually abusive spouses and fathers, things like that. I've been told stupid things, but nothing criminal--just annoying. And the thing is, I've heard it in other churches as well.

Same shit, different chapel.

I joined a few months after I turned 18, so I've very little Young Women's experience. I was the secretary for a little while and did learn, to my surprise, that there are Good Little Mormon Girls who sneak out of their rooms at night to do Inappropriate and Unworthy Things. I thought this never happened, but even after I discovered it I assumed it was a isolated event, especially given the girls who were doing it. They came from messed up homes, homes I knew existed.

With all of the Catholic church's sexual abuse problems that went on (and yes I know, continue to go on), I one day told my in-laws how grateful I was to be in a church where that never happened. They were quiet when I expected a chorus of agreement, but that didn't bother me too much. About a week later a story popped up in our local newspaper of a priesthood-holding dentist in the area who would sedate his patients and then grope them.

Some years later I'd learn of a man in my stake, the husband of the YW president I served under, who physically beat the shit out of his wife and kids. I had interacted with this man before, in a chilling and specific incidence where he gave the YW a martial-arts lesson. He was a master in one of those practices.

Oh my god, right?

Still, this doesn't come close to the stories I've heard since leaving. If anything along these lines have occurred in my own stake, I don't know about them. Apart from a non-mormon man who worked for my stepdad groping me at the age of 14 (he reached behind the car seat to get a good feel of my leg while we took him home), I've never been sexually assaulted. And I am both grateful and oddly full of guilt for this. Well, let me clarify. "Guilt" may not be the right word--but I don't belong with the vast majority of other ex-Mormon women, a majority who seems to have experienced such atrocities, and in that way I feel like I am insulting them by considering myself a part of their group. Make sense? I feel like I can't relate to anyone. There is a level of privilege I have that I feel nobody else has--and this makes it difficult for me to bash the church along with them.

But this also means that I have had the privilege also to be around the church's best people. Yes they CAN BE incredibly annoying, but no more so than those I ran into at my dad's Assembly of God church, or the Catholic church or anywhere else. Or more so than I can be, for that matter. But I did join the LDS church and my membership lasted throughout what I consider to be my most formative years. I wish I could've just been left alone, but I remember how confused I was and so willing to go anywhere with anyone. Something happened to my good sense after high school. In a lot of ways, I could have done much, much worse than to join the church.

(and this is where I lose a lot of you)

I've developed a sense of pity for members. Not for the leadership, but for the members. And I'm tired of making fun of them so much. People like to do it--many for the catharsis, but others because it's just fun. And it is. But there are genuinely good people just saying what they've been raised to say and believe and think and do. They don't know any better. They genuinely believe it and there is little we can do to change them. There are few who we can convince, but for the most part the indoctrination is more powerful than our logic and rhetoric. This doesn't mean I should sit there and take it, and I won't, but this doesn't make them inherently bad people. We say they lack the ability to think critically, and in a lot of ways this may be true. It is true. In a lot of ways, however, this may just be a defensive mechanism. And beyond all of this, who am I to say I am any better than they are? What the fuck gives me that right? In this way I am no better than they are.

But I have a problem with just assuming EVERYONE knows it's not true deep down but continue to believe or play the part anyway because it's easier. It's really no better than the members or general faithful who tell non-believers that they know it's true deep down but continue to be apostates because it's easier.

While this may be true in some instances, there's a lot of hypocrisy in this line of thought.

I've struggled with a lot lately. I have my fake profile on facebook, and it can be a lot of fun. I like that it's a place where I can say things I can't say on my real profile, but it's not all about religion or belief or the lack thereof. I'm looking to get into a field of work that doesn't look kindly on those who are human beings. Besides that, it's a profession, and for whatever reason those in the public eye are considered unprofessional or a bad example if they use dirty words or have beliefs and/or politics different from that of the majority. I do have to be careful.

There are members who I cannot stand, but they differ no more from others who have political beliefs that just make my skin crawl. You don't have to be LDS to believe that homosexuals or queer folk in general are unnatural and deserve to be shoved into the back of the bus, if they're allowed on the bus at all--though I do wonder, is that a belief only the religious tend to ascribe to?

Also, I need to know I've other passions, another future ahead of me. I do not want to spend the next ten years of my life shaking my fist at the church and telling them to get the fuck off my lawn. They are there. They are my family, and a few of my closest friends. This is who they are. If I want their respect, I need to give them some of mine as well. If I want to be accepted for who I am or who I am becoming, I need to accept them as well. We will clash sometimes, but that's what people do.

And that's the other thing: I've grown to believe over the last decade (or perhaps all my life; I don't know) that friends never argue and agree on everything. This isn't true, but it's hard to fully realize. I understand why my friend Squeaky freaked out on me and refuses to talk with me. It's not because I don't believe anymore as much as she's in defensive mode. Not because I might convince her that she's wrong, but this is the safest place she's ever been in. I would never ask her or entice her to leave this.

But back to the other passions and pursuits. I have felt like a one-trick pony for such a long time. If it wasn't just being a mom, it was just being an angry ex-mormon. This is not me. I love English, I love to write, I love to read. I love sports. I want to learn other things. If I don't, my life will be shit. You don't need the church for your life to be shit. Church is not requisite for a shitty life any more than it is for a great and happy one.

I just want to be more. Religion is part of my interests. At the moment I'm reading a ridiculously gigantic survey on the English Reformation. People say things that piss me off--but it's more from a feminist standpoint more than a religious one, though religion does seem to feed misogyny rather well. But religion is who we all are, like it or not, partake in it or not. We can work for change, but we have to accept the fact that real change will take years, decades, centuries. If we can accept that, we can get started, and many of us have. I will say I'm unconvinced all religion is bad, and I know that's a naughty agnostic-atheist thing of me to say, but I'm as yet unconvinced.

There are those I avoid now because they are so offensive. I'm not saying they aren't or that we should tolerate it. For me, the point is that it's not all due to Mormonism but much of Christianity as a whole. I can't say of other religions more than I presently know, but I imagine it's much the same there. And even there I hesitate, because I can't stand blanket statements. Too black and white.

I do believe people will be bitches no matter what. We're like people that way.

So, new blog coming--at least when I can figure out a title and hone down a focus a bit more, if I decide on a honed focus at all. Hope to see you there.

I'm justa girl

2011-06-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

I've learned to avoid telling people I ever had anything to do with the church. You get a stigma. A lot of you will get that. I fear a particularly stinky kind for myself. You guys, my husband was born into the church. I chose it.

But because he was born into it, there are situations I can't get out of, attitudes I can't avoid. His family is pretty awesome with regard to our leaving, but there's one member who--try as he might!--can't let go entirely. Every now and again he has a comment. It usually doesn't bother me.

But the attitudinal issues--those bother me. The misogynistic crap is so subtle, but it's there and I've always felt it but I've always dismissed it because it's so subtle and, y'know, maybe I'm just being sensitive. I don't know if anyone outside the culture and at all unfamiliar with it would sense it as it's redressed in names like "values" and "virtue" and "faith" and "humility" and "modesty" so that even women don't see it.

We attended a little get-together at my FIL for my SIL's 8th grade graduation this past weekend. As my FIL and my husband are both teachers, they talk quite a bit about issues and general experiences. Now, I didn't necessarily grow up wanting to be an English teacher, but it has always been on my mind. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have tutored and enjoyed it so much. In high school I wanted to be a writer, but I was aware enough to know that wouldn't work as a day job so I considered being an editor or proofreader, working in the publishing industry.

For a long time post-church I told myself and anyone who would listen that I didn't think I could teach, that I didn't have the ability to handle the emotional and mental issues associated with it. Because I wouldn't let it go (I was waiting for someone to assure me I'd be fine--yay passive-aggression!), others simply shrugged and agreed--which made my insecurity worse. I had just spent the last decade being told ("encouraged") that I couldn't do what I wanted to do. It's been quite the process redefining myself. I'm getting there, but it's slow.

So I finally decided last summer that I was going back to school with purpose. The difference in my motivation is amazing. I finally believed I could do something and I've done all the annoying crap so far in order to do it. I took biology--biology. I've overcome a lot of fears just in the last year to keep going. Now I'm in summer school. I'm happier when I'm studying.

But not everyone is all that supportive. More than I thought are, but there are the cynics. They surrounded me yesterday.

"So you wanna be a teacher, huh?" a family member--also a teacher--said.

"Yeah."

(insert loud laughter here)

It could be because the climate is so godawful right now that only an insane masochist would even entertain the thought, but I know this mindset. I know my husband used to have it. Kids, I could tell a few stories and they're all influenced by church doctrine and teachings regarding women--not girls! women--and their place. "I'd rather you wouldn't wear that." "Don't go on a walk by yourself."

I mean, girls.

So the laughter also stank of condescension and it didn't help that the conversation stopped there. They weren't interested. But, he did bring it up again later. "So what do you want to teach? Elementary?"

Because, as many of you know, women are best at teaching elementary if they're going to teach at all (really, if a mormon woman has to work, she can be a secretary or a teacher so I'm already playing into this). And let's not forget that just moments before I overheard a conversation regarding elementary school teachers--they're amazing people and a special brand and omg so glad they're there, but their university program doesn't demand as much of them.

He backed up pretty quickly after I scrunched up my face and...well.

Every time I was asked about school my responses were met with snideness. Even DILF (i'm struggling with this. he's uncomfortable with actual names but i grow tired of "my husband" and i think "DILF" is funny)--ANYWAY, DILF, who usually sets me straight when I'm being irrational--and god knows I can be when I'm angry and hurt--agreed that there were some major you're so cute *pet* now get in the kitchen overtones going on.

Seriously. I need some good returns for these stupid comments next time. When we got home I just wanted to ball up and cry and punch something.

I'm not doing this for them, to prove anything to them. If I was I wouldn't have come even this far. But, you know, it would be nice to have a bit of respect.

Another SIL on the way

2011-06-01T08:56:00.000-07:00

I feel weird about this one. Not in a bad way, but in a "why the hell weren't you excited about the last one" kind of way.

The most recent SIL is nice enough. She's naive as all get-out, but she's nice. And we all know, I wonder very much about my BIL's actual feelings about it. Those feelings aren't at all alleviated by the numerous stories I've heard of things he said even on the day of the wedding. Something doesn't feel right.

But of course, I could totally be wrong. It's not like I know that BIL that well. He lives in friggin' Utah and I rarely see him. The signs, though. Anyway. I hope I'm wrong for their sakes.

This new girl is marrying the youngest boy in the family. I love this BIL--I love all of them, but this one has a special place in my heart. When I was in labor with my youngest, he gave up his bed for me. We lived in a town an hour away but I wasn't giving up my OB/GYN for anything. So when active labor began the day before Christmas, we made our trek to my MILs house to spend the night. For two awful, contraction-filled nights BIL gave up his bed. For three days BIL voluntarily and without any asking on my part took care of my kids. I never had to raise a finger. My SIL was amazing, too, but there was something special about BIL doing this. He also had to wake up every morning around 5am (if not sooner at least once) to my false alarms. He never complained.

My only regret about BIL is the boy he was when he returned home from his mission. Complete zeal, this boy. But we had all changed, the kind of change that just intensifies it all (if that makes sense). He was a believer before but now he was completely entrenched, quoting Spencer W. Kimball (?) and others regarding the evils of "socialism" and otherwise. It was, for me, disheartening. The boy who once played Grand Theft Auto (which, in an ironic way, bothered me back then). The boy who once watched South Park (again, ironic. how could he get away with watching that?). I missed that boy, but I loved him too. I've known him since he was a chubby little eleven-year-old boy. The eleven-year-old boy who, upon seeing my husband and I hold hands for the first time in his living room, lit up and ran upstairs to tell everyone. I hope I remember that forever.

This BIL has a special place in my heart. Sometimes, when it feels like a good time, I try to bring him back. Whether he likes it or not, he still laughs when we reference South Park.

I friended his fiancee on facebook last night, and she seems so goddamn sweet I can't hardly stand it. She's SO LITTLE (young!) but so sweet. Her friends are already calling her by her almost-new last name and it brings back so many fun memories. I'm excited to meet her and afraid I'll scare her off at the same time. I'm afraid I'll fall to the wayside. My in-laws are the most amazing people, but they're believers and we're not. It makes us the default black sheep, even if they still love us and treat us just as they always have. I've always been a bit of a black sheep--being a not-so-social girl in a Mormon world, whether you're a member or not--just makes you the weird one.

They're getting married in Idaho this September. I've never been to Idaho which makes the idea of going neat, but we're not exactly rolling in the dough at the moment so we're not sure we can make it anyway. There's hope, though. My husband may get a summer teaching job, and if he does we're definitely making the trip. And though we're pretty sure everyone--with the possible exception of the remaining BILs and SIL--knows we're no longer active, the prospect of sitting in the temple foyer while they get married is a hard one to swallow. Let's also toss in the idea that DH is working on the idea of resigning this summer. So, all I can think about is the embarrassment of the foyer (an interesting emotion, I think), and then the remembrance that I did the exact same thing to my own family. Karma is a bitch, kids. At least we'll be able to help the as-yet-endowed SIL with the loads of kids.

But I want to go. There are problems involved--days to take off, the aforementioned financial issues (there's also a planned Disneyland trip this November)--but this is something we'd like to attend.

There are just so many emotions involved here, but I'm happy for them.

Please Read: On Drowning

2011-05-31T11:55:00.000-07:00

I read this last year and feel strongly that it bears annual repeating. This is one thing that scares the living CRAP out of me, for both myself and especially my kids. I've had a close call. It's nothing to mess around with.

Please read and share this post: Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning

The most important bit to know is this: People (and children especially) who are drowning are not yelling and not splashing. They don't look like they're drowning--unless you know what to look for.

And, as the article states, if your kids become quiet while swimming, get your ass over there and find out why.

Excerpt from the article:

There is very little splashing, no waving, and no yelling or calls for help of any kind. To get an idea of just how quiet and undramatic from the surface drowning can be, consider this: It is the number two cause of accidental death in children, age 15 and under (just behind vehicle accidents) – of the approximately 750 children who will drown next year, about 375 of them will do so within 25 yards of a parent or other adult. In ten percent of those drownings, the adult will actually watch them do it, having no idea it is happening (source: CDC).(emphasis added)

Sexuality

2011-05-27T21:30:00.000-07:00

Y'all know Lady Gaga, right? (This isn't about her, just using her as a template)

I read an article the other day having something to do with her--honestly I only remember the comments--and readers quickly fell into a debate on her sexuality and the genuineness thereof. (oh! here it is, but i'll give you the cliff's notes):

Commenter 1: Is she right in being such a strong advocate for the GBLTQ community? She's not gay. Commercialism at its finest. It pisses me off as a gay man.

Commenter 2: Dude, she's said she's bisexual on a number of occasions.

C1: Whatever. She's always hooking up with guys in her videos.

C3: Nuh-uh! Have you seen the "Love Game" video? She totally macks on a chick there.

C1: Doesn't make her bi.

C2: Who are you to decide whether or not she's bi? This is such a big problem for bisexuals. Can't be part of either community. Either with 'em or against 'em, jesus.

C4: She said she was attracted only physically to women, that she couldn't connect with them on an emotional level. She's not bi.

And on and on and on.

I felt C1's concerns during Prop 8. I kept arguing against the proposition and after a while felt like I shouldn't be doing it. I'm not gay. I'm married to a man. I have found women attractive before (wasn't about to say that yet, shh!). Still! I felt like I shouldn't be fighting their cause. I wondered if it wasn't my place. Maybe because I felt like a fake. Maybe because I was fighting against the church just as much as I was fighting against the proposition.

But beyond that: this issue of sexuality, bisexuality specifically. I've heard on a number of occasions that bisexuals are treated as if they can't have their cake and eat it too (a terrible phrase in this situation, really).

Is this a political issue? The gay community has a justifiable cynicism if not hatred toward the straight community. Is this a matter of Us vs. Them? Group mentality? And let's not blame only the gay community for this cynicism. Heterosexuals are constantly berating bisexuals as well for simply wanting to be rebellious or fake or whatever. Ask anyone. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

And let's for a minute consider the other argument brought up here. Gaga allegedly stated she was really only physically attracted to women but didn't feel she could feel an emotional attraction. It sounds odd, I guess, but I think most of us have at one point or ten felt a purely physical attraction to someone we otherwise found totally unattractive.

But Gaga is suddenly not bisexual to these people. Her alleged limited attraction to women negates her claim to bisexuality, and it makes me wonder what makes you bisexual and what, if anything, cancels that out--can you be a poseur if you're genuinely attracted in any way?

It's all bullshit, really. It's never anyone's right to decide how gay or straight someone else is. If you don't like someone fucking with your sexual identity, privilege, or rights, don't fuck with theirs. Period.

Faith in Self

2011-05-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

I've a big, fat, ugly problem with the idea that one cannot be happy or blessed if God or Jesus isn't thrown into the mix.

Y'all, this idea is everywhere lately.

A very very very Christian friend of mine wrote, "I may not see myself as anyone worth much of anything, but Jesus loves me, cherishes me–who could ask for more?"

It reminded me of a local Methodist announcement board (y'know, those that they have outside the church with often quirky and "clever" sayings for all to see?). It said "In order to make God great, you have to be less."

I rolled my eyes at first, but an acquaintance said "truer words!" and mine eyes were opened.

This is the problem. Not humility! But the feeling that without god, I am worthless and with god, I am worthless. The same church had before advertised "If you follow yourself, you've a fool for a leader" or some shit like that.

Do you feel awesome about yourself yet?

Then--and I don't frequent this discussion board at all anymore because it just pisses me off--I ran into a blog post over at Feminist Mormon Housewives because someone I like wrote it. Nat discusses the YW value of faith and asks "how can we best put this into action?" She talks about faith being nothing if you've no faith in yourself. It's well worth the read but the comments...well, here's your cliff's notes:

"Where's the mention of the Atonement? Of Jesus Christ? Of our Heavenly Father? Faith in oneself is nothing without Jesus."

FUCK. THAT. Y'ALL.

It made me so mad.

On a related note, there's the idea I've ran into all my life--Mormon and not--that if I just gave my anxiety to god he'd take it away.That I lacked faith if I couldn't or "wouldn't." Even my father, who knows how awful our condition is, gives some credence to this idea.

Dad, Dad, Dad.

He of all people ought to know better. I think he has an inkling, but we know how hard it is to deny lifelong teachings. You tell yourself that even though life is hard--nay, damn near impossible--now, it could be tragic if you changed anything.

But God doesn't take anxiety away. He adds to it.

Just because you walk away from God doesn't mean the anxiety and bullshit goes away with him. Not entirely. I've this sneaking suspicion that it's because God doesn't exist. It has nothing to do with God or his religions. It has everything to do with chemicals and constructs and how your brain is structured.You only have so much control, but you do have some control. I've learned this and am still learning this, and it has nothing to do with God.

Learning that you're worth it gives you faith. Denying your problems don't work. Trusting in God and not in yourself doesn't work. At all.

There's something amazing about the process of discovery of your own worth. That you, not God, can do it. That you, not God, did it. All because you believed in yourself. That's powerful. That's hope. That, y'all, is harder than belief in the divine.

For parents.

2011-05-18T20:48:00.000-07:00

Dudes. I haven't read the book, but I'm so plugging it.

Go the [expletive] to Sleep: A Salvo for Tired Parents --NPR

Excerpt below!

The owls fly forth from the treetops.
Through the air, they soar and they sweep.
A hot crimson rage fills my heart, love
For real, shut the [expletive] up and sleep.
The cubs and the lions are snoring,
Wrapped in a big snuggly heap.
You're cute as hell and smart as [expletive]
But why in the [expletive] won't you sleep?

Seriously. I've some pregnant friends and family right now who I'd love to give a copy to, but no one who would approve. Which is too bad.

Interestingly enough, it's funnier with the bleep.

Feminism and Atheism

2011-05-16T20:11:00.000-07:00

I reconnected with an old friend of mine almost three years ago, and one of our first conversations brought up the concept of feminism.

"I have a hard time describing myself as a feminist," I said.

"But you sound like one. You believe like one." (paraphrase)

And I knew that, but it still bothered me to give myself that label. Not because I'm against labels (in fact I'm all for them, in a personal sense), but because I'm uncomfortable with the many negative connotations. It's one of those ideographs, words that make people stop thinking. That's not what I want.

Now I feel I'm unworthy of the label. I'm not activist enough. I'm not passionate enough. I'm not aware enough of misogyny in my life--aside from the church. I imagine that the more I involve myself in the outside world the more I'll feel it. However, I'm not expert enough to argue the cause very well.

But it's progressing. At the beginning of the semester, a class of mine was discussing Kate Chopin's short story, "The Story of an Hour." Because we had earlier discussed how the personal beliefs of the author can sometimes play a part in her work, I decided I'd bring up my observation that Chopin seemed feminist. My professor dismissed me.

"No. I've read excerpts where she professed a love for her husband. She doesn't hate men."

I picked up my jaw, but I said nothing.

I hated that I said nothing, but I said nothing.

And that is one reason I don't like to consider myself feminist. I'm hesitant to be "that girl." I am thinking about that, though--is it worse to remain quiet, or worse to chance annoying people enough that they'll completely avoid you and dismiss everything you say? I know one doesn't have to be a jerk to spark discussion of controversial topics. In fact, I've learned that changing minds is best done when you're assertive and confident--not aggressive and an asshat. But it's also a matter of venue.

Then there's the atheism.

I lean more this way, and I have for a while. I even changed my "religious views" on facebook to atheism for a little bit, but that was uncomfortable too. But "agnostic" didn't fit the bill either. It's set to "none" at the moment, but only because I don't fucking know.

And I would like to know. There's a peace and a power for me in being able to put a name to the feeling. I can't say I don't believe in god for some reason, and yet the logic of a god (specifically the christian god) doesn't pass the test for me. I'm not theist. I'm more atheist, but I can't say it out loud. I don't know why. Atheism doesn't mean I don't think there's a chance. I also know there are things we cannot explain, but there were things people couldn't explain years ago that science has now explained. Yet that doesn't mean science will ever explain everything. Is everything explainable?

So I don't know. I suppose "atheist" is the best classification. It's just very loaded, very negative. And that's a real problem--people should be able to be atheist without chasing others away in horror, just like Christians should be able to be Christians without other people shying away in horror.

For the record, I'm just as annoyed by militant athiests as I am militant christians.

These are strong terms, feminism and atheism. They mean different things to different people, and I tend to think I need to be all the way in, embrace it, before I call myself either one. As it is I run in with people who think "feminist" equals "man hater" and atheism means "godless fucking asshole christian hater who arrogantly decides she knows everything." It just wears me out.

Because that's not what it means, but no matter how many times you calmly correct false perceptions, many people will never hear it. They don't want to. It makes things far too complicated. And even when I'm up for a debate, I'm not always prepared enough. I don't like debating unless I'm confident I'll win.

I wonder if a relabeling would be smart or even necessary--or if its just another way to dismiss important issues.

Santorum. And other things.

2011-05-10T18:35:00.000-07:00

As soon as I can get my ass in gear I plan to post on my ever evolving views on what marriage ought to be. In other words, not what the LSD church teaches you it is. Perfect perfect must be perfect everything must be perfect and god forbid you ever disagree or argue or anything.

You get the fucking idea. I've done so much thinking about it. Eric and I get along and we're best friends in a lot of ways, but there are secrets--at least on my end.

I'm just...finals. I've so much re-reading to do, revising, self-quizzing, bullshit like that. Next Wednesday I'll be free. For the most part.

But for today, do me a favor. Allow me a moment of total immaturity. Today I will be 12-years-old. I was already told this was "old news" but I didn't know. Not until Jon Stewart told me! (I get my news from Jon Stewart)

Google "Santorum" for me. Or, I guess, lemme do it for you.

Not "Rick Santorum"--just "Santorum."

Yes, he's a Republican which makes it all the more giggly.

Doesn't help that his name rhymes with Dick.

Oh! Okay. Real quick. So I went to my daughter's class today to bring her class birthday cupcakes. While they're outside eating them, one particularly chatty and very chill little girl looks at me and says, "You're supposed to be in my church, aren't you? But you don't come."

"Nope," I said.

So fun to have little girls who inadvertently spread teh guilt. I'm not worried about myself, but the kids. Just what they need. "Uhm..." There are so many mormons at this school, in this city--she's been asked this question and variations on it so often this year. Her best friend asks too, especially once our names were read in what-would-be our new ward. "Why don't you come?"

You think she knows? No. Because we're not sure how to say "because it's all bullshit" without passing on the message that her family and friends are ridiculous.

Although one time I did lose it a little bit in a surprising fit of "because church [any church] makes mommy and daddy feel icky and unhappy and bad about ourselves." Which isn't the entire reason, but a big one.

Which leads me to our local Methodist church sign: In order to make God greater, you have to be less.

O_o?

Forever

2011-05-06T21:00:00.000-07:00

I'm so wired these days.

SO. WIRED.

And spending money like we have it. Which, btw, we don't. But it's little things. Always little things.

Like a book! Y'all, I've been jonesing for this book for...ever and because I can never ever go to the store for "one thing" I found myself in the book department (because I live in a shitty city with NO BOOKSTORE) and found my book!

Not "Annie," though I do so much want to read that book. I do love me some controversy.

This one, Forever by Judy Blume, has it's own controversy. It's been on my mind for a long, long time. I've denied myself because I'm afraid of a few things:

1) I'm easily influenced by books, and I think this one might be too closely related to my story I've been working on forever that won't leave me the fuck alone.

and,

2) Uhm. Jesus, I forgot. Well, I don't have the time for it right now. But #2 was something else.

It's a miracle if I've written anything semi-coherent. I think my mind gave up once I sent in that gigantic (for me) rhetorical analysis paper. Which I got an A on, thankyouverymuch.

I have so many blog topics on the brain right now and while I might have some time to write them, I don't feel like I can. While it may seem otherwise, I do care about writing a semi-decent post.

One and a half more weeks, kids.

I'm looking forward to summer. Not the heat--dear god, the heat--but, you know, chill time.

But I always idealize shit like this. I hope this summer is more fun.

Oh--my girl turns 8 next week. First--weird. Second, so far: nothing. Not since the "omg your sweet daughter of God is turning 8 let's get her dunked." Then again, the mass stake baptism kids day for her doesn't occur until the first Sunday next month, so we'll see. It seems the higher ups know where we stand. Our would-be-bishop awkwardly invited Eric and us to church back in April, and Eric said "y'know, that's prolly not going to happen" and the bish said "yeah, I figured."

I'm surrounded by these people and yet so many of them are so goddamn chill. We really hit the jackpot. It makes up for the crappy town. I'm just not feeling it.

Oh well.

Rameumptom

2011-05-03T10:09:00.000-07:00

Self-righteousness is everywhere.

EVERYWHERE.

(also, i'm on a f-bomb spree. deal.)

I'm hearing it on both sides about this bin Laden thing. "We shoulld've tortured the motherfucker!" "Let's not take joy in death!"

gawd.

It's in my sustainability class, too--twelve weeks into this thing and I'm finally hearing something other than OMG CAPITALISM SUCKS AND WE'RE RUINING THE EARTH!!!

Which, fine! you know? if it's true. And I'm not a big fan of our system, but a while of crazy-evangelical preaching that i'm killing my grandchildren gets a smidge old. STFU i can't hear in between your rantings.

Which, I would think anyone whose been through the religious grinder would understand. I want to hear both sides, and every fucking time I say that someone has to get all "well scientists have said..." and I don't fucking care. I WANT TO READ IT. I want to hear about it! If I can't or I'm somehow kept from it, I get really really suspicious. I begin to question. Too many people who ought to know better tell me I shouldn't, that it's bad because the thinking has been done for us.

Familiar?

I also become cynical when a professor pulls the ALL CAPS AND !!!! on me (literally, it's an online course).

I'm just tired. I can only do so fucking much. I want to be happy too, you know? This omg we're gonna die!! shit isn't good for a girl like me.

But it's a fine line, isn't it, between faith and evidence. There's only so much you can do.

Annie on my mind

2011-05-02T18:31:00.000-07:00

Over the last few days I've read so many glowing reviews for Annie on My Mind that it's on my summer TBR list for sure. It's a coming-of-age tale of two girls whose friendship turns to love. Their relationship, for various reasons both predictable and not, is forbidden.

So I went to Goodreads to update my list and to read the reviews there. After all I'd heard of this book, these reviews surprised me. Tons (like 85) Barnes and Noble readers give the novel 4.5 stars. Goodreads gives this book about 3. So I'm reading and then, then, I hit this review.

You'll enjoy it. I did.

"Had to read for controversial/banned books lesson for YA lit. class. Review: Dated (1982) book about a girl in high school who falls in love with another girl. Aside from being confused about their sexual orientation, the girls are not very good at practicing restrain or self-control. Personally, a disturbing subject and more so because of the point of view.

...

...Wait for it...

I am forever grateful for my friends in BYU 32nd ward who were with me throughout the day helping me get through this book. It was a serious ordeal for me and their love and support was the only thing that got me to the end." -- Goodreads (emphasis added)

sigh. I'm happy she was able to "get through" her "serious ordeal." Later she says she wanted to read an LBGTQ book, so props to her. Still, "serious ordeal"? I hope she came out with a greater appreciation and less "ew, gross."

(can i also just say that I want to take a YA lit class? PLEASE?)

Anyway, on my TBR list. So many books are. I'm in a little over my head, but oh well. I always romanticize things in my head. Summer will be wonderful. I will stay within a really air conditioned home and read in a quiet room (HA!). I will do all these things. I forget how tired the heat makes me. Or how easily distracted I get.

ALSO.

(Because I posted on it yesterday...)
As for the bin Laden thing: I've heard so many different reactions. Mine, obviously, was one of "glee." We got the bastard! But I have appreciated hearing different perspectives. They made me think and continue to think. Still, as of this moment, I'm glad the asshole is gone.

And for right now, that's all I want to say.

We got the bastard!

2011-05-01T20:04:00.000-07:00

Oh. Bring the 2012 elections on, bitches.

Osama bin Laden Dead, Obama to Reportedly Announce--Huffington Post

and to y'all who are so damn cynical right now:

you are right
this isn't over
neither is the war
something might happen

just have a beer and enjoy the fucking moment. we don't have many happy moments in the news lately.

A Secular Easter

2011-04-24T08:26:00.000-07:00

For some reason this feels like our first secular Easter, which is weird because...well, it's just weird. And it's not our first. I don't quite know how to feel about it. People have been passing around pictures of Jesus in a bunny suit, holding a cadbury creme egg (/swoon) instead of a lamb--and, you know, I've laughed even though the point is hardly an original one. We all like to point out that hey, Easter is a pagan holiday. And it is. But somehow Christians have fanagled it to be one about Jesus--and considering the timing, I have to wonder if that's really all that fair. Passover and all, you know. It's not like Christmas for god's sake.

It is ridiculous to equate a really frightening looking bunny with the resurrection of Christ, but you know. Whatever.

I've been walking the atheist walk lately, generally unbothered by everything. Unimpressed. I'm writing my rhetorical analysis paper on retention in the church--24 pages long now--and happily feel nothing about it. The church, I mean. Once you get down to the nuts and bolts of something that isn't true you lose all feeling for it. I'm okay with that. I'm happy with that. I wonder if it's a for real, permanent thing now or if sometime in the future I'll go back to being pissed off enough to rant and rave on a semi-regular basis about it.

I'll just ride the wave, I guess.

But on holidays like this and, it seems, Easter especially I find myself wanting to watch the History channel shows about the life of Christ. I also curiously find myself really interested in shows discussing the Catholic church. I don't want to become Catholic, but I wouldn't be against attending a service or two--preferably in an older building. It's something how influential the Catholic church is, and I often wonder if it bothers the LDS church that the Pope is so revered by all. I learned last night that it was the Catholic church that made our new year begin on January 1st--apparently once upon a time it was sometime in late March.

And I love the music. Maybe it's a nostalgia thing. Maybe it's simply the music itself. But I like it.

There's something reassuring about religion, let's face it. When you get rid of...well, most everything, it's not so bad. Throw in the "you're a horrible person who doesn't deserve Christ's mercy but you're getting it anyway SO BE GRATEFUL, DAMMIT" and it's not so pretty, but when all is silent there's something comforting about it. As a budding constructionist I tend to believe it's just how we've been molded, but that doesn't really matter anyway.

So we're staying home today, away from the drama. I was told it was "okay" but that I needed to "get over it." Whatever. I need to stay home as my anxiety has been through the roof, through the roof, but being away from a crowded home of people who you both love and drive you insane does make the holiday different. Maybe that's what makes it feel secular.

I'm all for celebrating the beginning of Spring, the budding of flowers and the warming of the earth. New life, fertility, the impending and welcome end of a school year. But it is different, and I find that we're not really talking to the kids about it all. Religion, the meaning of a holiday. I'm not really sure how to, if we ought to. I think we ought to, considering the climate of the rest of the family and what they come in contact with. How to handle it. How to feel about it.

I'm still taking the temperature of a few things, but you know. It is what it is.

Happy Easter, everyone. <3

In the meantime...

2011-04-22T22:38:00.000-07:00

Someone on my FB wall actually said she'd totally vote for Trump and a few people "liked" it. I think that's more obnoxious than saying you'd vote for Palin. Be disenchanted with Obama, fine, but for fuck's sake.

Boundaries

2011-04-17T19:55:00.000-07:00

Boundaries. Want to know a funny thing about me setting boundaries? Joining the church was a way for me to do that with my mama.

Isn't it ironic.

it's been a long, long time since I've set boundaries with my dad and my stepmom. My mom is constantly pushing things, but with my dad it's been very chill over the past ten years or so. We just came to a "don't ask don't tell" kind of understanding, and my husband taught me how to love being at his house. I became friends with my stepmom. Things got weird when I became friends with my sister, though. Conflict of interest.

Setting boundaries with friends is a little trickier. They've mostly set them with me. You know, "I won't read this," "we can't talk anymore," "please don't say that," "prolly not a good idea to post that on my wall" etc etc etc. There are even the subtle ones between new people I meet. "Don't get me wrong, I'm Christian," they say. The claim is a strong one.

Or maybe it's just me, defensive. Assumptive. Gun shy.

I've let a lot of people be themselves around me. It hurts when I can't be myself around them. Then I ask myself what is the line there, too. In high school my big thing was being accepted for who I was. I went to drop off a job application in not-so-nice clothes. You don't like it? Go to hell.

I feel myself going back there, but it doesn't work. It barely works for a 16-year-old, it sure as hell won't work for an almost 30-year-old.

So I'm seeking the middle and finding it may not be that happy. That scares me. My husband finds it easy to be private. I'm fairly open--too open--with most things. Not everything, but too many things. I don't go looking for fights, and often I lack the courage to say much, but when I have it I don't back down. Piss me off enough and it doesn't really matter where we are. I don't say that to be all "fuck with me and i'll fuck you up" or "don't mess with my family, bitches," but it takes a lot for me to be aggressive. Not so much for me to piss other people off. That's a talent I seem to have. Seems to be the one way I know how to set boundaries. Probably not the best way, but it can be entertaining. And painful.

Everyone who has left the church--probably most any church--talks about boundaries between friends and acquaintances and leaders. I will say my husband is great at that. It takes me a bit longer. I'm there now, but it took a bit longer.

It's interesting, how members are so much quicker to set boundaries with others than former members are. I think it becomes easier the more confident one becomes with the decision to leave.

What's with the people pleasing?

We haven't talked to anyone in the church in a while--well, except when Eric attended priesthood session with his father. The guy who would be our bishop invited us to church "anytime." Eric thanked him and said it wouldn't happen. The bish was very respectful, apparently. "Yeah, I know."

He had to try. It's in his job description.

Eric made it painfully clear to his mama about where he stands at least. Atheist. Comfortable. She took it well at the moment, at least, but still asked if it would bother him that they would pray for us. Have at, cats. She asked if it bothered him that they talk church so much. Eh, you know, it's who they are.

They're good people.

The issue of boundaries seem to be more on my, non-LDS side of the family at the moment. Not saying this is the norm in the least--I couldn't say that with the stories I've heard, but it's my situation. It could change very soon.

A revision of a vent

2011-04-15T20:09:00.000-07:00

The story is so much more complicated than I can put into words.

I want to see my dad and I want to see my grandma and my sister.

The rest of them, at this point, can go to hell.

I don't want to spend Easter at this house. It's bad enough because it's the first holiday not at my grandma's and it's a small house and a ton of people and far too many of them are engaged in serious shit right now. I can hardly handle a happy, semi-functional home without breaking into a full-blown-anxiety-attack-complete-with-migraine. This?

Then there are the kids. Her kids. I don't want to hurt feelings, but someone has to stand up for these kids.

And it makes me physically ill to think of being around her. Moreso to think of being around her boyfriend who doesn't understand boundaries. It scares me to be around someone I want to rip into but, when I consider myself, I'm afraid I'll back out of it (ripping into her) at least a little. She's a fantastic actress, so fantastic that even when I know she's bullshitting I feel just a little sorry for her. Like I shouldn't. Like she deserves a 70 times 7th chance.

Y'all, I'm not above giving second or third chances, or even fourth. I've given her more. We all have. When she abandoned her kids out of nowhere to move from California to Oklahoma to be with her boyfriend WITH NO NOTICE, that was it.

I don't know why. She's done so much worse.

I think I'm tired of the rollercoaster. I'm tired of the rhythm of phone calls and conversations: "she's coming home" to "she's in rehab" and "she's doing better, we're talking about her having the kids back by christmas" to little red flags that sound like "my friend from rehab is pregnant again, isn't that awesome?" to "she was late today" and "she didn't show up" to "she quit her job" to "she's dating again." Cue the phone calls saturated with tears and anger and why why why? When she shows back up at their door the kids regress.

My family doesn't mean to put it on my shoulders, but that's what happens. They trigger my loyalty. They trigger everything I've watched since I was 9-years-old. Twenty years, you guys. Years and years of drama. When she was 16 (no, more like 13-14) she took off to Canada to meet a guy she met on the Internet. My dad picked her up in Detroit. Ask my father about how much he loves Detroit.

Her boyfriend basically waterboarded my nephew to make him a "man." She allowed it.

When aforementioned boyfriend was finally deported back to Mexico, she did well for a long time. It's the men that bring her down, her choice in men. She had a job, was clean, was saving for an apartment. Then the cell phone bills became longer and longer with calls received from Mexico...then Los Angeles. She paid a coyote to smuggle him back in and all went to hell again.

Just a little of her history.

But don't worry, y'all. She made sure to smoke meth outside the apartment. For the kids.

My stepmom is unwilling to draw the line. She's her daughter, I get that, that's what I stood up for for so long. But the babies, y'all. The babies. My nephew has PTSD, my niece, fetal-alcohol. She smoke meth too while pregnant with my niece, if not my nephew as well. My nephew hoarded food because he was never fed. He has rage issues. My niece has various developmental disabilities. Thankfully she was too young to remember anything violent. I shiver to think what might have happened to her. I wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility.

I hear their "mom" got her CNA in Oklahoma. Came home and tried to get a job at a nursing home, but you know those "child neglect" charges among the litany of other charges on your record can be a bitch.

I want to step in. I want to do something. Or not do something. But there's so much drama in the family right now. Then again, I know this cycle and I know this manipulation and I know that when we go everyone will pretend that everything is fine because that's just how we do things even though THIS TIME everyone knows what shit is going down. They can pretend because they can figure it's nobody's business, but everyone knows. Everyone knows.

I can't breathe in that air.

I just don't know how to tell my dad. My stepmom. I'd rather tell my dad, but she tends to cockblock my dad. Not on purpose, necessarily, but involuntarily? She suggests my husband go with my dad when they're helping with our yard and there's a dump run to be made. Girls and boys, girls and boys.

I need my dad.

I think he'd understand. I think he'd be severely disappointed--he's taking the direct brunt of it all. I don't want to hurt him. But I don't hant to be around this girl and I sure as hell don't want my kids in the general vicinity of her boyfriend.

Then there's my sister. They gripe about how she's not going to church or is questioning god. They gripe because she tried (and smokes) pot and is, you know, 17-years-old. She's fucked up once--community service. She has some scary ideas that are beyond me regarding her logic ("I want a baby!"). She needs a place to escape. She hasn't been here since December because I can't do it right now and I feel so terrible about it. Maybe next week.

I don't want to be a wuss and go. I don't want to overreact and not go, and hurt my dad my sister and my grandma. I want to make a statement, to ask a question: why do you keep allowing her back into those kids' lives? I can't stand by anymore.

Is that my place?
Where do you draw the line?

I don't get it.

2011-04-12T18:51:00.000-07:00

The new movement (if you want to call it that) on Facebook is to send your panties to John Boehner for women's reproductive rights.

I guess I don't get the connection.

Then again, facebook movements aren't exactly known for their logic, especially given the fact that tossing your panties at a man is generally considered a bit of a, uhm, compliment. A expression of affection, shall we say.

Really girls? You want to do this?

Have at, I guess, but Johnny might take it as a gesture of approval.

Orgasm Girl

2011-04-09T16:46:00.000-07:00

If you'll indulge me.

Last night I had to take my husband to the ER (everything's fine). As I'm sure you all know, the ER is a great place to people watch if you absolutely must be there. We took the hour trip to a nicer hospital so the pickings were a bit slim, but we still had a few great groups.

There was the group that seemed to be having a hell of a time, making jokes and laughing. I've been in this group before. Nothing helps an ER visit like joking like idiots, though I will say it does nothing to convince the triage nurse that your condition is at all an emergency. Even when it is.

Then we had Super Scary Guy in the wheelchair. Snce Eric was having cerebral issues and having random fits of blank staring, I advised him to take pains to not stare at SSG. He had already thought of it.

THEN, then there was Orgasm Girl.

It was horrible. I felt terrible. She walked in with her hand clasped to her heart. She looked awful as she sat right in front of us. It was uncomfortable, and not only because she was Orgasm Girl--though that didn't help. Poor thing just writhed and moaned for the next twenty minutes or so.

Writhed. And. Moaned.

Let's just say she needed to take it down an octave. And though I don't think they meant it like that, even the doctors referred to her as "The Screamer" for the duration of our stay.

It's also probably not all that encouraging that her boyfriend seemed completely unimpressed.

We got home at 4am. That makes it just short of a cool 24 hours since I last woke up. I don't think I fell asleep until 5, and then I had to wake up at 8:30 to call SIL who had my kids. I've been up since.

It was date night. Happy date night.

Took me a minute, but rofl

2011-04-06T20:07:00.000-07:00

h/t The Liberal Life

my first screenshot

2011-04-05T17:45:00.000-07:00

(awww. get it in now, y'all. you won't be saying that inna minute)

Also, trigger warning.

This was on my friend's wall. It's a link to a local story of an East Indian woman who was carjacked at 5:45am at our local grocery store, taken to another location, raped, and then driven back. The article mentioned that the woman didn't speak English, and the man who kidnapped and raped her didn't speak Punjabi.

Submitted to STFU Conservatives:

Forgive the crazy ass penmanship.

But seriously, the fuck?

Enough enough enough

2011-04-03T15:55:00.000-07:00

If it weren't for a few things, I wouldn't have known this weekend was conference. If it weren't for a group I was a part of, I wouldn't have known jack shit about what they talked about. My husband did go to priesthood with his dad, but that's a tradition important to his dad. So I do know what they talked about there. My husband now intends to call his sister and tell her to keep on keepin' on. She's 21 and living life with no intention to get married. After yesterday and last night, the pressure might increase. We want her to know how much we respect/admire/envy her, and to keep it up.

So I left that facebook ex-mo group I was a part of. There was drama. So much drama.

Online drama isn't worth it.

And neither is focusing on this church.

The drama, at least, taught me that I'm learning to stand up and fight back. That's showing up more often lately. It also taught me to just leave. Enough.

School is teaching me this, too. Leaving the church is teaching me this. There's a bit of an identity crisis that continues, but it's promising, i guess? There's the athletic part of me that I'm regaining. There's the more feminine part of me I never had. There's the badass part. The merging is impossible.

It's also taught me that the less I focus on the church the better. I don't think it'll go away for quite some time, if ever, but I want to live my life without it. It was nice this weekend, not thinking about it. It's a beautiful day, not one to be stuck inside watching four hours of pious old men in suits, spiritually jacking off for me to wax righteous about.

We got donuts and took our kids to the park. They flew a kite for the first time (got it stuck in a tree) and my oldest boy made his first basketball shots.

Really, folks? Can you beat that? Why dwell on bullshit more than you have to?

So I'm weaning myself off as much as I can.

done!

2011-03-25T14:32:00.000-07:00

If it's true that inundating oneself with something (cigarettes, candy/junk food) often leads to a distaste and hatred for said thing, then I'm getting there.

I am so SICK of this church shit. The rough draft is due Monday--and it's a lot of work--and I've a linguistics test to study my ass off for, and I'm considering switching subjects.

Seriously. I don't know.

Thank you!

2011-03-21T16:44:00.000-07:00

Thank you so much for your help, everyone. I think I'm good now.

Now, for a new (albeit brief) topic: I hear the newest trend is for the girls to complain about "feeling trapped" and wanting to work outside the home. And no, I clarified: not in the "pampered chef" or "scentsy" line of work.

Now I hardly believe every woman wants to get out and work, but /snort. Really?

I never would've guessed.

They should listen to their leaders.

Still looking.

2011-03-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

Finding decent articles and first hand experiences from the church has been both frustrating and enlightening. The bullshit the church has said--amazing. I knew about most of it, of course, but my god.

Still looking for first hand experiences, mostly by way of these questions:

1) How long did it take you to say phrases like "if i left the church"?

2) How long did it take you to go less- or in-active? To "break your covenants"?

3) (to above questions) WHY: Specifics, plz, especially regarding any teachings, scriptures, doctrines, lessons, quotes, etc. that fucked with your emotions and kept your drive to stay. The more honest the better. Don't be afraid to say you were offended (because, really, I was offended by the church's treatment of me and others, of polygamy and their sins of omission, etc). If it was something else, lemme know.

4) What emotions did you go through during and following your disaffection?

5) What did other people say? Leaders, friends, ward members, family, etc. I'm considering comparing language before leaving and after--because, yes. There's a HUGE difference. If you received one letter from a friend before leaving and then a more vitriolic response from the same friend later, I'm all for seeing it.

Thank you so much for those of you who've entrusted me with your stories so far. It means a lot.

(and so far I've only received one, one, response from a TBM. But she didn't really grasp what I was asking for. She simply told me why she thinks the church is true, not what she thinks the consequences are of leaving. Oh well. I was happy to have someone respond. Sigh)

you can email me at irreverency@att.net

thanks!

Call for Interviews

2011-03-17T09:03:00.000-07:00

I can't wait any longer, and as a friend of mine reminded me--I can always get into the other topic at a different time (likely during my credential courses). As I'm still passionate about LDS issues, focusing on this would likely make my life a lot easier.

SO. I'm still working on the questions, but I need to interview people regarding what it was or is like to doubt/struggle with beliefs/leave the church--officially or unofficially. I won't end up interviewing everyone who offers (I only need 5 primary sources), but I need to know what I'm working with here.

Please keep in mind, I'm looking for language RE: retention (the church's efforts to keep members in the church, especially preemptive efforts) and how it manipulates emotions and thoughts or skews logic--in any medium.

So, aside from interviews, here's what I'm looking for:

- You Tube videos about leaving the church and how the church made the process a pain in the ass, please let me know about it. I'm looking at the moment but if I can find better sources, it would really help. (This could also include specific "I am a Mormon" videos which mention at all why the church is teh best and leaving is scary scary or otherwise bad)

- A scanned copy of the "please stay, [non-apology apology]" pamphlet they send out.

- Stories from those who had to fight like hell to get out of the church (after sending the letter, the church tried to excommunicate them, or otherwise made the process linger--including visits from local leaders)

- Any great articles. I've already got Jeff Holland's piece of shit temper-tantrum talk from the last conference.

- Exit stories on your blog or anyone elses, specifically stories which mention difficulty in leaving because of church authority or other members' impassioned pleas that you review your faith, your testimony, and your history. Members who implore that you repent. Doubts you had and what made you stay despite those doubts.

- Emails or letters you wouldn't mind sharing from stake/ward members, friends or family who freaked out when you left, etc.

- If you are an active member and you're reading this, a letter/comment/whatever telling me why you think leaving the church is a bad idea.

- Blog posts or comments of/from faithful members denouncing doubt, your anger, etc. A post admonishing people to "focus on the good," or talking about how "the church is perfect, but the people aren't." I'm looking for language, here, reasons leaving is not a good idea.

- Pictures, advertisements, etc.

- Anything else you think would help.

Also, I know there are sites out there notorious for their super-anti stance, like The Mormon Curtain and otherwise. I don't doubt the veracity of these sites so much, but I need something that most people would respect, including members. Evidences where the emotions are there, but not insane. Does that make sense? I'd just rather avoid shit akin to "Godmakers," ya dig?

Thank you so much. I appreciate it a lot.

**I asked a few of my super-faithful friends for help, too (including one of my VTs). Think they'll be into it? We'll see. I figure they might fear I'll go apeshit on my project about how lame the church is OR they'll figure it's a great missionary moment. Who knows. I hope they respond.

Mothers Who Know

2011-03-16T11:20:00.000-07:00

Retention via Obedience

2011-03-13T17:33:00.000-07:00

You'll probably hear a lot about this in the next week or two. I can't decide whether to analyze the language of retention rhetoric in the church or focus on the current climate surrounding the "problem" of teachers.

The first is easy, though maddening. I do wonder if it would help me get over everything. It's not difficult to point out various aspects of the church's strategy to keep people in, but to lay it all out at once and see it all for what it is might help.

Then again, what am I learning? And would it help anyone else out--not the faithful, but the fringe perhaps? The non-member? Those who tell me (as I was told on friday) to focus on the rhetoric of conversion because "leaving the church is easy"?

(i corrected her tout de suite. i don't know if she was a member or just ignorant, but it didn't matter--i've grown to have an automatic impassioned response for such bullshit)

In looking at the church issue I've run into loads of it. Like this:

To obey means to follow and to accept direction...I was impressed by the remarks of Elder A. Theodore Tuttle of the First Council of the Seventy, when he asked a young man if he was preparing to go on a mission. The young man replied, ‘I don’t want to go on a mission.’ Elder Tuttle’s response was, ‘What does that matter? The Lord wants you to go.’ This is a perfect example of how the law of obedience should be exercised -- Keith Brian Rutledge, in Conference Report, Melbourne Australia Area Conference 1976, p. 18. via "Lesson 34: Obedience," Aaronic Priesthood Manual 1, (2002)

I've heard similar BS in my own wards. Like the time my Gospel Doctrine teacher told the story of a couple invited to meet with the stake president, who would ask the husband to a rather burdensome position--bishop? Anyway, apparently the SP asked the wife if she would support this calling. She said "I don't like it." The SP said, "Too bad."

My Gospel Doctrine class, with the exception of my husband and I, laughed.

They laughed.

It's just, you know. Really?

And it's everywhere.

And I've done this for 2 1/2 years myself. All this would result in is a more nuanced understanding of one aspect and a paper. I don't particularly care anymore if there's a member in my class who might get his or her feathers in a ruffle over this--they need to know. And they probably won't. Members are olympiads when it comes to mental gymnastics.

So.

The other issue gets me off the church mindset. It would help me focus on a field I'm looking to enter into in a few years. It's part of many related issues I don't know a lot about, other than what I've seen in my own family for the last 2 1/2 years and through my interactions with my kids' teachers--not to mention the experiences I've heard from friends of mine. In that way it'd likely be educational for me as well. Right now I'm thinking of looking at what I see as the current focus--salary--and the rhetoric surrounding the argument.

Or something like that.

That, and Jon Stewart provides me with more than one fantastic commentary I could use.

I love me some Jon Stewart.

Teachers and dey bling-bling.

2011-03-13T11:41:00.000-07:00

Just sayin'

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

Crisis in Dairyland - Apocalypse Cow

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show Full Episodes

Political Humor & Satire Blog

The Daily Show on Facebook

Don't mean to brag, y'all, but we got an almost 10-year-old ride. Not to mention the 12-year-old one. Kias, too. We be ridin', they be hatin'.

"What is THIS?"

2011-03-11T16:25:00.000-08:00

The other week, my husband threw his temple clothes on our bedroom floor so he could use the bag for something better.

It takes him a while for some of this stuff. Then again, I think I still have mine. Not because I'm attached, but it's like a bad souvenir. I don't know how to explain it.

ANYWAY, my daughter comes out of the room a few days later with the apron wrapped around her waist. She's staring at the thing like it's completely foreign.

"What is this?!" she asks.

I died laughing. I don't remember what I told her. We try to be respectful but not entirely--don't need her thinking badly of her family, but you know. It is weird. I think most members would admit that if they felt no one else would hear them.

Story 2.

The other day a woman joined an ex-mormon facebook group* who had a last name I'm SO FAMILIAR with. It's Squeaky's last name. Remembering stories about how all people with this last name are related, I told her "you are legion in my town." Turns out, her husband is Squeaky's husband's cousin. I even knew her husband--kinda--had heard of him.

They LEFT THE CHURCH four weeks ago. Like, right away--no process, just "omg, we're outta here." Tossed the garments. Told most everyone. Her in-laws wrote them a letter, calling them to repentance for the sin they obviously committed. She's already lost friends.

I never would've guessed this guy would leave the church, just by virtue of his name and family--they're ridiculous in the church, but then again so many of them are leaving right now. Of course, this particular couple lives in Oklahoma now and not California--so that sucks--but still, it was validating.

It was validating. I don't know how to explain that. It's not that I questioned myself, but it's nice to have someone a little closer to home who's going through the same thing.

Something seriously offended her. I know that's a bad word to use, but she discovered something bad enough to shake her from her TBM-ness. And not only her family, but two or three other families in her WARD. All at once, they've left.

NOT ONLY THAT, but a temple president from their stake had left a few years before. A temple-fucking-president. He prefers to remain low-profile, but apparently he ran into some serious incongruities and wrote a few letters to the First Presidency. They initially went ignored, but the squeaky wheel gets the grease. A Seventy finally wrote a letter back, basically telling him to forget about the truths he discovered.

A. temple. president. I respect his wishes to remain under the radar, but could you imagine if he went public? It would be amazing. Some discussion is online, but the story in its entirety remains unpublicized.

*this group is secret and won't show up in any searches, and it's a bit of an effort to get in if the admin doesn't already know you--they're very careful about keeping things safe for apostates and free of trolls. if you're interested in joining, lemme know. i'll see what i can do to hook you up.

FYI

2011-03-10T19:28:00.000-08:00

I am going through SUCH an unattractive phase right now. While not the source, midterms and botching stupidly easy quizzes and kids with bronchitis and reading ridiculously difficult essays aren't helping.

I hope to be back with something readable and not magnificently annoying or blindly self-righteous soon. I also hope to do so by not posting and then deleting on a daily basis.

Spring break is next week. Doesn't mean much, but it's something.

Why I am not Republican

2011-03-09T18:42:00.000-08:00

(Reason #1938743)

Texas immigration bill has big exception--CNN.com

"Those who hire unauthorized immigrants would be in violation of the law -- unless they are hiring a maid, a lawn caretaker or another houseworker."

BUT IT'S ALL ABOUT CUTTING SPENDING, Y'ALL. And national security!

Such bullshit!

I suppose illegal immigrants are totally okay as long as they're serving Americans? the white man? Indentured servants, slaves, doesn't matter. It's abhorrent.

The fact that these brainless, self-righteous dickheads were voted into office at all makes me weep for society. Which is funny, because I've some neo-con friends who would agree, but on a different premise. "O my gawd they want to take away my guns!"

These people should not be voted in. Period.

*Yes, I understand the bill can't possibly pass--at least, I hope to god not. The article states that the bill could undergo some "modifications." I also understand that this, like others, could be simply symbolic--lookit us, being all patriotic. I further understand that not all Republicans/conservatives are on board with this crap. But that doesn't change anything. It, like so many other bills I've heard introduced as of late, are far scarier than anything Glenn Beck could make up.

Gotta be more.

2011-03-07T07:27:00.000-08:00

Y'all know I'm aching at the moment to move on, but the harder I try the harder I find it easy to do so. I know that's part of the deal, things not being easy, but still. I can't stand getting involved in debates I know absolutely nothing about, and the thing is I don't have the fucking time to invest in getting to know the issues better. And I feel like a fool in the process.

So maybe I will just stick with the fucking church for now. With religion. My idea for the project I've been assigned deals with the rhetoric surrounding conversion and retention not only (though perhaps only) in the LDS church but in Christianity in general. The LDS church is much more obvious in their efforts to do so, and I've first hand experience there.

I could also do the gay marriage thing, how it's "unnatural"--I mean, shit, that's easy.

I just want to believe there's something more to me than all of this. I'm having a hard time figuring out what that is, and it's becoming rather depressing.

There's got to be more to me than this.

Besides, looking up issues beyond the church (and, I suppose, including the church) is nothing short of depressing. You wouldn't believe the bullshit people believe. Denial of white privilege--"omg America won't be a white country anymore WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?!?!?!"

I read another essay on the rhetoric of early 20th century efforts to make women feel it was their place to be in and enjoy and whatever-the-fuck else in the home. It was enlightening, but frustrating. Karen Altman, look her up.

I don't need this stress right now. I'm drowning. I've been fine, mentally, since school began. Now I don't know how I'm gonna make it through the one week I *have* to make it through. My spring break, which is next week, is so full I won't have a chance to sit down. So if sanity means holding onto the buoy that is analyzing church efforts to keep their "faithful" in line, I guess I'll do it.

Everywhere else I turn I feel like an unenlightened, wanna-be poseur, and that doesn't feel good either. Maybe at this phase in my life, this is my expertise and I just need to ride the wave.

I'd just like to know that there's more to me than this.

Oh, Mike.

2011-03-06T18:33:00.000-08:00

I don't have a hell of a lot of time to write these days--midterms, fat projects, etc--all while avoiding complete freak outs.

But I saw this.

h/t STFU Conservatives.

Testimony of a Transgendered Child

2011-03-03T07:46:00.000-08:00

I'm not all that familiar with transgendered or transsexual people, but it's showing up more and more in the blogs I follow. I saw this video a week or so ago, and it's pretty amazing. The more you learn about the differences between sex and gender, the more you realize this shit is for real. Not that it's our place to decide who a person should be anyway. Thought I'd share:

"My child is gender variant (Transgender) which means that during fetal development there was insufficient testosterone which resulted in the lack of male gender identity markers in the BSTC section of the pituitary gland in her brain. The result is a child who is born a natal male with a female gender identity. Gender exists between the ears, not between the legs." (jabberjawz223, aka super mama. emphasis added)

Step One

2011-03-02T19:04:00.000-08:00

(thank you, Kiley <3)

For some reason I feel the need to tell everyone since I kind of already stated that this was something I planned to do.

I'm staying away from the church and religion for my rhetoric project.

Well, I'm trying like hell to.

I know, I know. How easy would it be? I had already begun to compile articles and talks and everything. But--at the moment--I'm tired. I overheard a conversation today involving a girl who dropped her sorority. Her friends asked for a little dirt. I heard everything she said through the lens (wha?) of the Church. That's how it always is. It's always the church. The church the church the church.

And why not? That's how I've seen and heard everything for the last eleven years. It's habit.

I can't even do freewrites in class without wanting to immediately jump into something church related if only because it's too easy. I have kinda-inadvertently begun to establish myself as the ex-mormon. I see myself in particular contrast to the Catholic girl I share three classes with. She's perfectly nice, but we are opposites both politically and religiously, and so there's this barrier that shouldn't be there. A barrier I put there--it doesn't matter if she has, too, because I have. It isn't right. People are more than that.

I need to establish other facets of my personality. I have other facets...yeah?

Beats me.

I don't want to allow the church to continue to distract me to the point where I've nothing else to talk about. Not that I'm imposing a complete moratorium. It comes up because it has to. I find or see or hear something funny or maddening or ironic or moronic, I'll talk about it. It's a huge part of who I was and why I am where I am today.

But there has got to be more to life than the fucking church.

Can I please please please begin to move on?

No shit.

2011-02-28T21:47:00.000-08:00

"The spiritual part of us and the emotional part of us are so closely linked that it is possible to mistake an emotional impulse for something spiritual."

--BOYD K. PACKER "The Candle of the Lord" January 1983 Ensign.

Yeah. Of all people.

Bad cop

2011-02-26T15:18:00.000-08:00

Question. Bear with me, please.

It's argued that bitching loud and proud about how awful and manipulative and irritating the church is is the only way to break free of it. Taking off those chains isn't easy. It's a loud process. They push back so hard on your efforts to just be.

Then again, it could also be argued that doing so is, in fact, allowing the church to have some control over you still. They're in your head, you're playing into their hands re: what apostates do, etc.

I know what many, if not all of you, will say. But let's play around with that second idea. I think about it sometimes, wonder if ignoring it--if simply living my life without the church--is the best way to break free of it. Is it the most active, persuasive way to make it disappear? I see other people living this way, and they just seem so much happier and, y'know, freer. It doesn't touch them anymore.

Is it simply the process or is it more an individual thing?

I can't help but feel I'm allowing them to have power over me still. I'm wasting precious life allowing them to eat me from the insides. But it's easier to do that. It's much scarier to find and live a life you don't have.

Thoughts? I think both arguments have incredible merit.

"Free Agency"

2011-02-24T13:13:00.000-08:00

An article over at MormonTimes was brought to my attention which commented on the rhetorical issues of "I can't, I'm Mormon."

The author thinks this is crap because, duh, Mormons have a choice.

This is a sticking point between many ex-members and current members. It's also an issue between never-mos and current members. For example, my brother had a really bad experience with a scary roommate of his. The guy ended up going to jail because of my brother. He threatened my brother--you know, "When I get out..." I don't remember the specifics, but my brother had to do what he did because, as he said, he didn't have a choice.

A member told him "Of course you do."

This was during my initial disaffection, and as such I had a progressively heightened sense for bullshit. I told said person that when it's a "choice" between living or dying, it's not really a choice, is it?

This person is like this...all the time. He can't let anything go. He'll walk into your home and preach. He'll call you to task on anything he feels strongly about. It's his way of spreading teh gospel. It's fucking annoying.

To his credit, he let it go that time because really, what is the choice?

He didn't quite learn the lesson though. The church is all about "free agency." Freedom to choose. "I teach them correct principles," Joseph Smith said, "and they govern themselves." Every member is under this delusion that you always have a choice.

Of course you do, technically. You could choose to die if you wanted to. But most people aren't looking to be martyrs without a cause. Most people want to live. What choice is it when your hand is effectively forced?

But, members would say, the church doesn't force your hand. Ask past-President Gordon Hinckley:

No, I reply, the Church will not dictate to any man how he should think or what he should do. The Church will point out the way and invite every member to live the gospel and enjoy the blessings that come of such living. The Church will not dictate to any man, but it will counsel, it will persuade, it will urge and it will expect loyalty from those who profess membership therein.

Isn't "expect loyalty" simply a euphemism for "dictate"?

The church is confusing choice with force, not to mention forgetting the paternal nature of its organization. They treat you like a (jerk) father would treat his little child--but it's worse than that. It is akin to a father saying "Don't ever say anything bad about me or I'll disown you."

What is the choice in that?

The Church takes it a step further, however. It's not simply about excommunication because excommunication as an LDS concept means so much more. What ought to be said is "Don't say anything bad about me or I'll disown you and effectively not only take away everything you've ever had, but your salvation as well."

Choice?

Truly, if I wanted to, I'd make a shirt that said "I can, I'm not Mormon."

Hmmm. I might look into that.

*Also, just for fun let's also discuss the funny that is an attractive, young blonde thing with "come hither" eyes wearing a shirt that says "I can't, I'm Mormon."

Summation

2011-02-21T15:00:00.000-08:00

This sums it up rather nicely. A book on women, written by 15 pious old men.

h/t USU Shaft

It begins?

2011-02-20T14:20:00.000-08:00

So I don't know the timeline as my landline answering machine fucks up the dates and whatnot, but.

Okay.

While I studied in my room yesterday, our RS president stopped by, wanting to meet me. DILF told her "It's probably best if you don't come back."

I was both disappointed and glad I was away when she came by.

Then, just now, my son noticed that we had some messages on our answering machine. He keeps a sharp eye for this. He presses the button, and I immediately hear the word "Sister" and a familiar last name. I listen. This woman wants to "become acquainted with me" and gives me her phone number.

I figure she called before she came over? Who knows.

The next message is from her as well. "Don't mean to bother you again," she says, and then repeats the same shit she said on the last message.

My oldest is about to turn 8. We've already received the letter about it, and now this stuff. I understand from the message that "Sister" So-and-So is new to this calling, so she may just be super-zealous about bringing inactives back, but I wonder if it has anything to do with my kid not being baptised unless someone does something.

I just hated it. "Become acquainted with you." Uhm. I don't do assigned friends, but thanks.

I still can't get used to being on this side of the fence.

It is weird, the reactions you have to these things. I kind of want her to call again. I'd like to tell her that I'm sure she's super nice, but there's nothing nothing nothing she can say or do to bring me back. I'd love to tell her I'm resigning soon. I'd love to tell her I've already resigned, because I worry that telling her I haven't yet will give her some kind of hope and we'll receive EVEN MORE attention--but if that happens, we'll just send in the letters. I'm not okay with this. I'm just not.

God it's weird the way these stupid things affect you.

Update on 30-year-old single guy

2011-02-17T15:43:00.000-08:00

He's getting married.

At the end of April.

Now, I'm nobody to speak against fast engagements (do you really want to know how quick my husband and I became engaged? blink. there you go), or fast marriages, but...

after all his doubts and hesitations?

She wants a quick marriage. Every LDS girl does. I did. Hell, I wish we'd have gotten married on our terms and done it three months earlier, but whatever. I get it. Pants, they want to get off already.

I dunno.

I hope it works out for them. I really, really, really do.

Regret

2011-02-16T17:19:00.000-08:00

I am not happy with my life*

Shocker, I know. I also realize I'm hardly alone. (i'm so tired of feeling as if i need to defend myself. i've all these voices in my head--conservative voices i grew up with. ones that say "oh get over it. do you know how blessed you are? do you know how much worse you could have it? suck it up, stupid. you're fine")

I wouldn't count myself as miserable, but the regret! oh god, the regret. So heavy.

I'd do so much over again. So much.

People tell me that I'm fixing things now, and I am. I get that. Yay for me! I know. I know.

Please stop saying those things. Just stop. The last time I heard "good for you!" in response to hearing that I'm back in school needs to be the last. It bothers me. The sentiment, the meaning behind "She's going back to school" and the meaning behind the response just makes my skin crawl.

Good for me, good for me. Yes. Good for me. I fucked up and I'm fixing it. I'm the old lady in the classroom going back to school. It's awful. Do you know how awful it is? I have a love-hate relationship with it. I look at all these kids--kids who were 8-10 years old when I graduated high school, omg--and look at all the extra-curricular shit going on and I just want it all back so, so bad. It's becoming tangibly pathetic, if it hasn't become that already.

I'm not depressed at the moment but these thoughts are patently depressing. I want to cry. I have lost ten years of my life.

But it's amazing to be there. Just amazing. And I so much appreciate the fact that I can even go back. It's become a process of resurrection.

I should leave it at that, no?

It's just in my face, three days a week. I think I'm fine. I can't look that old, after all. I've still got 6 months before I'm 30.

And then the perfectly nice girl who sits next to me makes some comment related to my age.

DILF and I talk about our regrets semi-regularly. They're similar. He speaks of how he wishes he could've grown up with different teachings about life, and he speaks of how he'd ditch the mission. It pissed him off to be two years behind like I am pissed at my ten (well, eight I guess). I talk about what I wish I would've done, even though knowing myself back then and my situation--I may not have. Notwithstanding that, I wish I wish I wish. How I'd do things differently.

And when we talk about these things, we recognize to each other how doing things differently would probably mean we never would've met. But we're okay with this. Is that messed up? We love each other. There are few people in this world, if any at all, who can and will put up with my bullshit and still treat me like gold. Would I be willing to give that up? Yes. I suppose I would be.

He'd be willing too, and that doesn't bother me.

In a perfect world, we'd still have met. We wouldn't have been LDS. We would've just did our thing, encouraged and supported each other until getting married was reasonable. We would've started our careers, built a financial and emotional and whatever base and then had kids. Fuck this shit about getting married ASAP and having kids even quicker despite no job and no money. Fuck it.

School makes me happy. My anxieties blow away there. I feel smart for the first time in years there. I feel respected. I feel like an adult.

(Newsflash: getting married and having kids does not an adult make)

I might have to take all online classes next semester (logistics--better now than later, won't explain), and I'm just...disappointed. I'm terrified. Funny, given how terrified I was right before school started. Enough to make me sick, sick, sick.

I think being somewhere with people and doing things where I'm away from the dirty dishes, laundry, kids, the midday silence that breeds depressing thoughts--I think it's taking away my anxiety, and I'm hoping now that it'll cure me a bit. I'm not happy here. I know that even more now.

I know these thoughts are hardly constructive, and I'd love nothing more than to just move on. But while I'm learning to be kinder to myself, in this arena I am stubborn. I keep kicking the dead horse. It's just part of my obsessive tendencies we all love so much! I hope it blows over soon. We don't deserve this.

* I know, blasphemy! I'm out of the church, I should be on Cloud-Fucking-Nine. But remember, just as those who are in the church are not by default always happy, those who leave are not always happy. Life, it's crazy that way.

Also, just to clarify: These days I'm mostly happy, but I'm overwhelmed by this one thing right now. So I'm talking about it.

Don't Talk Shit.

2011-02-15T20:08:00.000-08:00

I just discovered this gem of a blog. I don't know if its my mood tonight or what but the tone of this blog reads subversive.

LDS (Mormon) Stake Presidents [sic] Blog

And the comments! omg, the comments!

I'm giddy. This is--so far--a fantastic find.

Are you still here? Some snippets:

On vasectomies:

The handbook of instructions is clear on this subject. In the section entitled Surgical Sterilization (Including Vasectomy) it states the following:
"The Church strongly discourages surgical sterilization as an elective form of birth control."

I don't see how someone can claim to feel good about doing something that the Church strongly discourages.

I do!! I do!! Because it's bullshit, that's why!

Further,

The handbook goes on to clarify that surgical sterilization should be considered only if medical conditions jeopardize life or if someone is mentally incompetent and not responsible for his or her actions.

Oh, no he didn't.

And the couple? Puh-lease. They're totally good for more kids, after all:

Wanting to get to the root of the problem I asked them where the idea came from. They felt that with 1 year old twins and 3 other children at home they couldn't afford and didn't have the space for more. Frankly I am disappointed at their lack of faith. As prophesied Satan is deceiving the very elect.

This cannot be for real, y'all. It can't.

...right?

(oh the sign of good satire: you just dunno)

"Sacredness" of marriage

2011-02-13T15:44:00.000-08:00

I know an LDS guy who is pushing 30 and is yet unmarried, a guy who recently brought a girl home for Christmas. Everyone wants this kid to marry the girl. As such, the two of them have been through a hazing. Initiation and all.

And you know, it's fun when someone you love is in a serious relationship. It's exciting.

That said, I have my thoughts about this particular guy, but I realize I could be wrong. Still. A single LDS man who hasn't (as far as I'm aware) gone on many dates and is pushing thirty...well. Flags raise.

Is that wrong? I've other hints I won't divulge here. Nothing huge, but hints.

Not that I'd care--but his family and friends and community sure as hell would.

So his family discussed his situation the other day. One declared he simply needs to "man up" and just ask the girl to marry him already. Everyone agreed. After all, he and his girlfriend are acting engaged. And they are. I guess. I suppose this is reason enough to put the ring on her finger already?

Who knows.

His father said his son has doubts, a lot of doubts. The kid knows what he needs to do, his dad said, but he's scared. It must be due to lovin' the single life, to freedom, to doing whatever he wants. Maybe it is. But maybe it's not quite that simple. After all, it's not as if he's out partying every night. He travels. He does charity work in South America. He's getting his master's degree. He works for the church. He has friends. You know?

But, his sister chimed, he loves children, and if he wants children he'd better do it now. After all, she has four children and she's only few months younger than he is. He'd better get to if he wants even one kid. If he waits too much longer, parenting will simply exhaust him. If he waits too much longer, kids will be out of the picture.

And forget children, they said. What of the marriage? All these people waiting to get married. Don't they know? The older you get the more set in your ways you become and therefore the less willing you are to compromise. "Man up" said that that's why you marry young, while you're still used to sharing with your brothers and sisters.

It's dangerous to wait until you know who you are before you marry someone because then you're an old dog who can't learn new tricks. In this situation, they reasoned, divorce is far more likely.

Nevermind that he wants to get married. Just maybe not to this girl. Maybe.

I bit my tongue throughout the conversation. So much was wrong.

If marriage is so sacred perhaps he ought to be completely certain he's ready for it. Maybe he ought to marry this girl because he wants to marry this girl. Maybe he ought to marry her because he loves her and wants to make a lifelong commitment--not simply to satisfy cultural, religious, and familial expectations.

After all, there will be kids to consider. The life of a girl he cares about. His own happiness.

His family has his best interests at heart. They want him to marry, to have children, to be happy. They think he's happy with her, that they're better when they're together. I have a feeling, though, that this girl could be any girl and his family would be foaming at the mouth for him to marry her.

Their rationale just sounded so selfish to me. The whole thing was striking given the sanctity of marriage schpeal I've heard so often over the last few years.

Some girl, any girl, JUST MARRY A GIRL.

You know?

I'm not about to say this family is completely wrong. They know him better than I do, but I have a different lens with which to view him. A lens not skewed by the church.

It just bothered me. So much for sanctity. After all, he's running outta time. For god's sake, soon enough he'll be part of the "Single Adult" group--*shiver*

Isn't that reason enough?

Thoughts?

Stupid Argument

2011-02-03T07:26:00.000-08:00

I just read this one:

A little boy writes God a letter. "God, why do you allow bad things to happen in schools?" God replies, "Dear son, I am not allowed in your schools."

I've heard this a few times but the full impact of its stupidity just hit me now. The first time I heard this, I, too, felt it was powerful. The more I heard it, the less powerful it became. And now it's just stupid.

God stays out of schools because he's not allowed in them? Some powerful god, more concerned with carnal policies than in being there for his children. Priority FAIL.

Also, if only good things happen where God is "allowed" as this meme alludes, can we then conclude that god really isn't allowed in other places, homes, etc? I'm pretty sure there are faithful people to whom bigger atrocities occur than "no [TEACHER LED] prayer in schools." I also know that good things--great things--happen where god isn't allowed.

Really, folks. You can do better, can't you? If anything, this only serves to prove the point.

Post Plans

2011-02-02T15:18:00.000-08:00

There are so many things I want to say, and the subjects increase each day. They include:

The problem of regret and the need for self-mercy (make sense?) Truth, I'm not sure what I mean by that last part, but I was totally into it two hours ago on my way home from school. Which is part of it, really. School, I mean. A place that represents so many things, a place that evokes so many emotions and thoughts. A place that gives me pride, a place that scares me, a place that challenges me, a place that embarrasses me--and not necessarily like you might think. I also want to speak of regret and the need for self-mercy (just go with me on that term) in a general sense.

Letters to special friends, maybe family. Not even current friends, mostly past. One or two kinda-sorta both. All people who have impacted my life in the most significant ways. I want to keep these letters fairly vague and anonymous, but I am unconvinced this is a realistic goal. It won't matter in some respects, as long as I don't give out full names. But if you know me well enough, you will know who I speak of. My biggest worry about this is seeming desperate and pathetic though it is full of nostalgia and will also relate in some ways to the last topic I want to write about.

An About Me on steroids. Super honest, bullet points, short explanations (hahahaha!). Easier said than done, and not necessarily an idea that will fulfill my idealism.

I want to write but I've so little time to write. Four classes and I am doing little but work. It is to the point where cleaning my house is relaxing. I made up a form on Excel for our finances the other day and honest to god it helped my headache. It's not as if our finances offered much to relax from, either.

I want to write so fucking bad--more to talk. It's an impotence. It's frustrating.

Hopefully this weekend I'll be able to pop something out. Hopefully by this weekend I'll have done what I need to do (get myself to the library so I can be without distractions--except, say, facebook *sigh!*--and get ALL my shit done) and have a bit of time to just chill. The problem is, there are so many things that I need to do outside of school that now can be categorized as "chilling."

So we'll see.

Rhetoric

2011-01-28T14:57:00.000-08:00

Short post, but I'm busting y'all.

I'm taking a rhetoric class this semester and am beyond excited about this course. I nearly exploded when he handed out an op-ed piece about the Tucson shooting--not because it was about the shooting, but because it was a political piece. Though--and probably because--I've no strong stance on whether or not the likes of Beck and Palin deserve any real direct blame for this tragedy, I had to hold myself back.

That was fun. Even more fun was contradicting everyone the next day on a different piece. I've been in the house for so long, away from what I love to do that you can't fucking shut me up now.

Anyway, part of the class is collecting pieces of strong, interesting, weak, etc. rhetorical pieces and annotating them, analyzing them. We're supposed to find a focus within the next month. Until then, we're supposed to find a variety of things to present to the class.

There are so many things I could focus on. I thought about politics, I thought about advertisements, I thought about niche magazines. Upon arriving home today I thought of using Mumford and Son's "Little Lion Man."

But that's beside the point.

Y'all know what a goldmine the church is. Rhetoric? Oh my god, it's everywhere. In fact, just the other day we received a "your daughter is turning 8!!" letter from the church (so that's why they wanted to know our address...). I was surprised by a small reaction I had from that letter. Guilt doesn't go away easily.

General Conference talks. Official newsroom responses to General Conference talks. Deseret News. Emails. Pamphlets.

EVERYWHERE.

Now I don't know if I want to expend this kind of energy on the church, but it doesn't matter. This class just might be the death of me. I'm in heaven.

Brodies: Thank You!

2011-01-25T21:01:00.000-08:00

I wanted to take a quick break to thank all of you who voted for me to win a Brodie--I appreciate your support so much. <3

I also want to extend my congratulations to the extremely talented bloggers who took the awards this year. Certainly I had the craziest competition and each one deserved to win--I'm flattered to have even been in the running.

I hope to write a post soon, but as school just began I'm finding sufficient free time difficult to ~~grasp~~ find (ugh, my brain is sore or something). I hope everyone is well and thriving and laughing.

...loudly.

PS: Nip/Tuck is a ridiculous, ridiculous show. And I am beginning season 4. Jesus.

Recipe: Telestial Brownies

2011-01-23T08:00:00.000-08:00

I'm going to use the box mix recipe because I've been a lazy, lazy girl lately. (yes, i know. it's not much more to make brownies from scratch, but srsly. it feels easier...and now i'm thinking about how much healthier, respectively, it is to make these from scratch--damn you, conscience!)

1 basic brownie mix. According to Berry Crocker, add:
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup oil
2 eggs.

So this needs some serious doctoring up because this shizz is whack, jack.

4 tbsp (1/8 cup) cocoa powder mix
1 - 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2-3 tbsp INSTANT COFFEE.

Optional:
1 tsp cinnamon
Chocolate chips

It's goooooooood.

(but not good for you. except for the coffee part.)

...and now I'm wondering what it'd taste like with a little brandy or rum in it.

Either way, cook at 325 degrees for at least 20 minutes, if you have my 70's wall oven.

Wa-la. Telestial Brownies.

Ghostly Logic and Confidence

2011-01-21T18:17:00.000-08:00

(yes, i know. but i found this in my drafts and thought "what the hell")

Had the in-laws over a few weeks ago. Big birthday party for all to be had.

The conversation in many ways proved interesting. As it often happens, talk went to how one family member loves to be scared but shouldn't be because she becomes SO FREAKED OUT. So we spoke of San Jose's Winchester House, Alcatraz, and then the TV show "The Ghost Hunters." This also, as it does now, leads to me telling others how much (cough) fun Eric is now when it comes to supernatural subjects. NO FUN. But, in this instance, it was also kind of sexy.

"You don't believe in ghosts?" someone asked him.

No apologies, just a very strong "No."

I swear, I wanted to jump him. There's something unbelievably sexy about that kind of unabashed confidence in the right kind of company. This company.

So we're talking ghosts and whether or not they're an actually existing entity when discussion turns to the logistics of a spirit moving physical objects. My first thought was: really? we're going to decide what's possible and what's not? how can you decide that when you believe what you do?

And then my husband's BIL says "Ghosts can't move physical objects because that's what bodies are for." Duh.

I just kind of looked at him. It spoke, for readers who don't know, to the teaching that everyone living on the Earth came here to acquire a body--a necessity for the afterlife.

This particular man is a good man--one of the best, but he can be a bit arrogant and pious. He's always right, you know? I grew up around this, so I have a bit of a physical reaction to it. So realizing that I knew that he wasn't necessarily right was a very good thing.

It's a matter of where my confidences lie. One of my biggest issues lies in not embracing my own beliefs. The fact that I felt sure enough in myself to not yield to his in the name of propriety was an exciting thing.

More and more I realize I need to sort out what I believe, accept it and love it in order for it to affect my relationships the way it ought to. I look forward to that. It only seems to be a process that lives on its own account and doesn't always seem to be something I can control. In a way that makes it better, but in a way that makes it worse, too. That said, last night it made it empowering, and I'm grateful for that.

Mormon Housewife Blogs

2011-01-16T13:35:00.000-08:00

Why I can't stop reading Mormon housewife blogs--Salon.com

I ran into this article today and at first glance I was willing to be happy about non-mormons finding something good in these blogs--why the hell not, right? let's see the good in all things, or at least most. It's something I've thought a lot about lately, and perhaps I'll post more on later.

But then I started thinking about it more: this is just more fodder for the LDS PR department, more reason for many LDS girls and women to feel less-than. I remember trying to reach this ideal, to be these girls. I was not able to. I am not that girl. It doesn't mean I hate life (indeed i did in the church many times when i failed) or marriage, or that I don't see the good in small things, but not reaching the ideal espoused by so many--including general leaders--only sends one message "you are not good enough."

Yay for The Simple Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Now, if this is who these girls are, I don't want to take that away from them. In many ways I wish I could be more like them, but that isn't the lesson I should absorb. I should be learning to embrace who I am.

Unfortunately, this is not what is or has been taught. Not in my experience. In my experience, the church and even much of our conservative society do not teach this. They teach perfection without acknowledging the tragedies that come in seeking it. Apparently the cost is worth the benefit.

So we allow others to tell us this is what is normal and that normal = happy. And we're enamored with normal because we don't feel normal. Anything to feel normal. Anything to feel not alone. And we sacrifice far too many people in the process. Many people have analyzed our fascination with the 50s and its nuclear family, and it's all worth reading. I won't go on about it, but we can and should be happy now. It's not about aprons and cupcakes and themed birthday parties and high-end jobs and perfect hairstyles and brand name clothes. I can understand the appeal in that, but that isn't what happiness is. Depending on the package, it's just more propaganda.

Again, if this is who these girls are, more power to them. If my son is what you might call a stereotypical boy, I will not take that away from him. If my daughter wants to wear frilly dresses and play with barbies, etc--awesome. As long as they don't criticise others or make them feel less if others are not who they are.

And that's why I can't stand these sorts of articles, even though I do believe in seeing the good in all, why I believe in seeing the good in that which we often demonize. BUT this isn't about the individual bloggers anymore but the faith they connect themselves to. In the church there is no individual. There is no separation, and non- or never-members can't understand this. When you speak of a person and connect them to the church in a positive light, the church will use it. There is no more individual after that. Just a puppet.

I have a really hard time welcoming anything that brings that.

And so this is no longer about charming, traditional, happy mommy bloggers. It's the Mormon we see, the Mormon we focus on, and the Mormon we are fed. And anyone who is not feels they are not, and because of this they will never really be happy either. Not as long as they buy into it. Me included.

Come to Institute, meat a chick.

2011-01-13T10:08:00.000-08:00

I've bugged a few very kind and patient folks with my commentary regarding the new video I heard of regarding Tommy Monson's plea for young adults to attend institute.

...except for you fine people. And so I ask you to please follow along with me. The first video (that's right, there's two) is entitled "I've got to get to Institute" and is embedded above.

It's a~~n unbelievably campy~~ fun video! Low budget from the folks who bring you $4 billion dollar malls!

This vid begins with the viewer groaning in annoyance as a super-sexy boy sleeps in bed with a really annoying background noise you soon realize is his clock ticking (biological clock, perhaps?). You won't realize this until his alarm goes off and the dude wakes up, looks at it, and says "oh no!" and falls out of bed like he's totes slept in and is late for class.

Hi, stupid LDS actor guy? You didn't sleep in. Your alarm went off. The appropriate response to your alarm going off when you don't wanna wake up is "goddammit" or "gosh darn it." And please reset your alarm for an earlier time if this is an issue.

Anyways, so he smells the jacket on his bed because college guys are gross and wear gross hoodies over their pjs every day, especially when they sleep in 'till 9:40am. They also eat pizza left out on the counter (don't they know that pizza left out that long has tons of bacteria on it?) because OMG THESE ARE FER REALZ COLLEGE STUDENTS, JUST LIKE ME!

Cut to hallway scene where said guy runs into his really nerdy and untalented actor friends who stop him and tell him about their awesome new video games and invite him over to play!

Cue end-of-the-world-satan-wants-you music.

The John Bytheway wannabe then beeps at him to remind him he really ought to be at Institute. CTR, guy!

But our main character wants to have a little fun! Geez!

John Bytheway agrees, there's nothing wrong with a little fun. Yeah, I say. What's wrong with having a little bit of fun?

WAIT A MINUTE. Video games are not fun. Whatever happened to the old '80s video where the hot chicks with big blonde hair wearing shoulder pads give him the ol' eye and invite him to a non-mo party? That's fun.

But Mr. RM doesn't know about this whole "institute thing." Mahana, you ugly, he says.

But he needs Institute! and Institute needs him! It's symbiotic! There's no time for fun--besides, Institute is fun! And if that doesn't work, John Bytheway bribes him with what he calls "a bonus."

A bonus, huh? Well, since you say that...

The bonus comes in the form of a tall, blonde and pretty Utah Girl. They know each others names. Jared and Erica. I can see it inscribed on napkins already, the ones their reception guests can wipe their chins of the jello and carrot mold with.

The teacher then asks Jared if he might say the opening prayer, and he (like a good boy) agrees. The next few minutes are filled with scenes of all the kids learning and discussing things found in the scriptures.

WAIT A MINUTE! Did you all see that? THERE'S YOUR TOKEN BLACK GIRL TALKING! See, the church isn't racist!

Cut back to the main character. "I'm really feeling the spirit now," he says. "That must be that bonus I was promised."

I guess "spirit" is another word for throbbing erection?

And OMG she asked him if he was going to the Institute activity that night. SHE TOTALLY WANTS TO MARRY HIM!

Cue knowing smile that usually means "i'm getting some tonight" but in this instance means "I might get to hold her hand tonight."

And now, the second video:

This little ditty entitled "Institute Changes You" begins with this crazy condescending monologue about how awesome it is to graduate high school and how scary it is because you're now "independent" (i use this word lightly, it is speaking to mormons, after all) and have to make decisions. Where do you find stability? Why, in church! Make sure you keep in touch with other LDS kids because other people are evil and scary and LDS kids are never bad.

Besides, you can totes marry one of these people! And isn't that the most important thing?

Also, you can be yourself here

(or not).

And if the prospect of marriage doesn't grab you by the throat, the promise of free food should. Except for when you have to pay for it--I mean, donate a few bucks. We won't mention this is in addition to the tithing "donation" requisite for full salvation. We just say "free food" because, as the video reminds you, aren't college kids, like, poor?

Oh shit, there's something wrong with that. Never mind that. The serious part of Institute is the "spiritual nourishment" you'll find there. But we'll get to that in a minute.

The real world is super-duper scary. You can't make it without having church all around you, all the time.

I'm totally going to Institute now.

My step-MIL

2011-01-12T20:19:00.000-08:00

My husband's stepmom is a convert. She served in the Army (one of the branches...can't remember which one). She converted to the church in the mid 90s. She is a survivor of an abusive marriage.

This woman has a mind of her own. Someone you don't want on your bad side, but if you're on her good side she will take the best care of you.

She keeps rum in the house for hot toddies when she gets sick. It makes my FIL so happy (according to Eric. i don't think FIL would ever speak of this to anyone)

And she just told me that the best remedy for a persistent, 3-week-long cough is black tea with honey and whiskey.

I don't know what she's doing in the church. She tells me on occasion in efforts to get me to reconsider church that she goes (which she doesn't. not very often) because she loves the gospel of christ. I imagine she also stays because FIL is very zealous. Very. She is not. But don't suggest that to her.

She also has a list of reasons she "cannot" go to the temple when the family comes up with a trip idea.

I don't understand her, but I'm willing to try her cough treatment. The shit my stupid doctor gave me isn't working well enough.

A god is a god is a god

2011-01-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

You know what bothers me?

I am comfortably atheist regarding gods other than the Christian one. Greek gods, Islamic, whatever. Let's use Zeus. I don't believe in Zeus. Likely you also don't believe in Zeus. I am comfortable in saying Zeus never existed--yet for those who lived in the era in which Zeus was "God," Zeus totally existed.

You dig?

Distance--both geographical and time--has given me not only the privilege but the right to say I reject Zeus as a real entity and his religion as totally unnecessary.

The same goes for today. I wasn't born in ancient Greece. If I was, I'd likely be worshiping Zeus. But I wasn't and so I don't.

I am atheist with regard to these and other faiths and gods, and that is okay to those who share my feelings. My family, also not born in ancient Greece, would not disown me or cock their heads at me. There would be no whispers in the corners, behind our backs. My worthiness would not be put into question. I realize this is a privilege, that not every atheist with regard to Zeus especially was given this right, and while I can never understand what that is like, that's beside my point right now.

Listen, I am totally okay with saying Zeus never existed except within the hearts of those who believed in him. I can denounce other gods and religions, no problem. But for me to embrace atheism with regard to the god I grew up with? It's not so easy.

Why is that? There is no difference that I can see. A god is a god is a god.

Not really like the Christian god is any better than the others. If he is better, it's only because of me and my interpretation. That's all god seems to be, an interpretation. Mormonism is one interpretation, Catholicism another, etc. etc. etc. God seems to be something that lives only in my heart and yours. And yet I can't let it go. There's a chance, I say. Maybe nobody has it right. Maybe there is a god, but then who is that god and why do I need to know? To feel better? I don't know why it would make me feel better. What the fuck would I do with that information--it's not like any god I'd believe in has a set of scriptures. I'd love to believe in the ideal Christian god, but I can't legitimize making that god perfect. I'm not making up that story, y'all. There are too many things I need to edit from what I've got in the Bible, and I've got my own shit to edit. Not to mention that I feel (perhaps mistakenly) that god is manifest in god's believers, and I'm not perfect--nor do I want to be.

So I can swiftly deny one god while holding onto another, even if by the threads. I think this is why I struggle with embracing agnosticism. I can't wrap my head around it.

January Update

2011-01-10T11:39:00.000-08:00

First of all, some of my blog posts have been nominated for a few categories over at Main Street Plaza, yay!:

Best Deconversion/Exit Story (For "Faith"),
Best Interfaith Interaction (for "The Beginning of the End?"), and
Most Interesting Commentary to Mormonism (for "Stupid Mormon Words")

Please go vote, and thank you so much for your support! It really means a lot.

And you know what? There are so many other amazing posts out there, many of them written by friends of mine. Check out the nominated blogs/posts for all the categories. MSP has really outdone themselves.

Which makes me want to apologize. Here's the thing: lately, I just don't have a hell of a lot to say. Christmas, my grandfather's death, I had my sister over this weekend, school began today for everyone but me, the cars need some attention and I can't get rid of this fucking cough for anything. THEN, I arranged to have some friends over this Saturday until realizing that my grandfather's funeral is this Saturday and on Friday we're headed over to Eric's stepsister's house for the monthly get-together (it's his stepsister's turn to host). And I just realized I missed posting my first post yesterday on books, and I just finished a pretty decent book called "Not That Kind of Girl." Next Sunday? Yes.

So the funeral is at my dad and stepmom's church. Assembly of God. A new one, something about a merge. But these people speak in tongues and treat my sister like shit. I'm dreading this a little, if only for the preaching. And the kids are going. It's like everywhere we turn around there's something about god and heaven and the kids are right there, totally tuned in. We need to engage them in a conversation. I've no desire to indoctrinate them (y'know, like force them to believe and all that shizz) about what we believe and don't believe, but I do want to talk with them about it. But don't get me wrong: they will not go to primary. We won't go to church unless they're curious, and only then just once per church. They're going to learn critical thinking. Religion is just everywhere around here. If we don't talk with them about it, someone will.

Then there's the fact that Abbie is turning 8 in May, the ever magical number. I don't know how the family is going to act. Their reaction or non-reaction will tell us a lot about how they feel about our inactivity. I know enough to know there are inactive members who still have their children baptised, but there are also plenty who do not. We'll see. My nephew has already commented about it to her a few months ago.

We'll see.

In the meantime, I'll try to calm down and organize myself and hopefully get something written here.

And now that I've bitched and apologized about having nothing to say, a few topics will pop-up in my head and I won't be able to do anything until I write it down :D That is, after all, how it works.

Contacted. Also, /facepalm

2011-01-06T14:30:00.000-08:00

I'd like to say I was strong and bitchy (without being bitchy) today to a well-meaning church member, but I was not. I'll probably spend the rest of the night or so kicking myself in the ass. Please tell me I'm not alone.

For the most part--and to my extreme privilege--the LDS church does not bother me. This is a mix of a fantastic friend in what would be my ward who tells everyone to back off, impossibly good in-laws who only fit in comments here and there, and the fact that our anti-social lifestyles in the church make it pretty hard for anyone to give a shit. Even though most people around here know Eric.

But, y'know, my visiting teachers (VTs) found me via facebook and friended me. At the time I didn't know who they were, other than their names or the names of their husbands were familiar to me. I figured "whatever" at the time, after doing some thinking. I mean, should I have friended them? I just did. I figured they added me because I was a mutual friend of whoever.

This seems pathetic of me, just adding whoever. I assure you it is not serial. If some random asks to be my friend, I ignore it completely.

Anyway, so VT emails me today. This is our second communication. Some months ago she mailed me the Relief Society newsletter. Only the newsletter. I thought it was cute and funny. She did her duty. I wondered if she was afraid of me like I used to be afraid of inactive members. She's young (~20), newly married, etc. And inactives, as you all know, are offended and hate the church (ie: its members, because there is no separation)

The email today was pretty short and to the point. Subject: Please reply (that tugged at my heart strings. She thought I wouldn't reply.) "I know I don't know you, but I'm your VT from [redacted] ward. Are you still on X street, because we have another address for Y street. If you're on Y street, you're probably in a different ward. Just let me know."

I didn't know what to say. "Please reply" was...well. I don't know. It made me feel sorry for her. I may curse and be all liberal and stuff, and I may occasionally slip and say something bad about the church (i generally don't out of respect for the members on my list), but I'm not scary. I'm actually really very nice. Sometimes too nice.

But, you know, she wanted my address.

Scratch that, the bishop wanted my address. Or the ward secretary. Whoever.

I don't like this about the church. They want to know where you live so, if the ambitious sort comes around and "feels the spirit" they can come after you and hound you and get your tithing money back (is that cynical of me? it's true, if only partly). I'd rather they didn't know. What does it matter?

But I was lame. Please reply and all. I could've just said "I really don't want to give out that information," but I didn't. My reply was short and to the point too. "We still live at X. We moved here from Y."

I feel that was a dumb thing to do, like I'm still allowing them in my home to some degree. What would you have done? Has this sort of thing happened to you?

Ignorance

2011-01-05T12:18:00.000-08:00

I'm still sick. Pretty sick.

Pret-tay, pret-tay, pretty sick.

Anyways, I ran into this the other day:

NPR: New Edition of 'Huckleberry Finn' will Eliminate Offensive Words

Yes, please. Let's breed some MORE fucking ignorance, shall we? This coming from the people who call liberals too concerned with being politically correct. This likely coming from the same people who would rather teach our kids abstinence way before methods of safe(r) sex. This is unbelievably condescending.

Ignorance is bliss. Except it's not.

My grandpa died today.

2011-01-02T18:22:00.000-08:00

Historically, I don't handle death well.

After today I wonder if that is just something I've always told myself. Truth, it has always been the idea of death that I didn't handle well. The idea that one minute they're there, the next they're gone. I'm horribly nostalgic, too. It's also the mystery of death. The thought about the pain that goes with it. The last, secret moments before relief.

I received the phone call on Thursday or Friday about his having a stroke and being at the hospital, how it was "not looking good." They said if I wanted to come, then I needed to come now. I couldn't. I've had bronchitis for a while and didn't think the hospital would smile on me coming down to see him and I didn't know if I'd just make things worse by doing so. The next day I was so out of my mind it scared me. I wasn't able to stand for more than five minutes until today, so when I was told he was on life support but that they were pulling the plug, there was little I could do. But I'm pretty sure my stepmom at least faulted me to some degree for not coming more quickly. It wouldn't be a lie to say that a part of me hesitated to go, but I've done a lot of thinking lately and, with Eric's help, began to look at this situation from a different angle.

Besides, my grandma and my dad--I needed to be there for them. I cannot imagine losing my husband or my father. I wanted them to know I was there for real.

So when my sister texted me earlier today to tell me his respiration was failing and his extremities growing cold, I called my mom and asked her to watch the kids for us while. We left at approximately 1pm. I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I prefer privacy when it comes to saying goodbye to somebody--something I'd only done once before, but then my aunt was more alive than dead (she had stage 4 cancer and liked to put on a show of strength for everyone). I also told myself he'd probably pass as we were on our way, and then what was the point?

But there was a point. I just wouldn't know until I was there.

My mom and Eric asked me if I'd regret not going. I knew I might. I thought about my grandma--she has a ton of land with a small farm quite a distance from town, and she's living with her abusive and possibly certifiably insane daughter. At 75, it feels far too much for her.

We walked in the room at about 2pm. I made my way to the side of his bed and watched him. I thought he was asleep. Alive, but asleep. His eyes were closed, his mouth agape. The nurse was there. It took me a moment to figure out what was going on. I quite literally missed him by about two minutes, if not less. It broke me up that we missed him by just seconds. Stories were told about his last days, his last moments, things I wished I could've been there for. Apparently just before he passed he moved both his arms up, something that surprised the family as he was brain dead on the left side and assumed paralyzed.

I've never seen a dead person before. Ever. I've refused viewings, all of that. I didn't want that to be my last memory of the person. I've also not lost very many people close to me. Two, maybe. Maybe.

Eric, having used the bathroom, came in a minute or so after I did. I didn't know if I should've said it out loud, but I did before I really knew what I was saying. "We're too late," I said. That was a hard reality to face.

See, this past holiday season we had opted to visit Eric's mom. It wasn't a big deal for Thanksgiving, so much, but Christmas. I had a feeling it'd be his last. You just don't suddenly deal with mini-strokes and dementia and falling down all over the place (to the point you're put in a nursing home temporarily) and not be swiftly on your way out. Even knowing that, though, I didn't go. First it was a matter of "I don't want to," but no decisions were made. I didn't want to deal with that side of my family--they can be rather labor intensive at times. When we discovered we had no money for gas, the decision, I figured, was made for us.

Besides, I think I figured him to last longer than this.

My dad and my grandma sounded terrible on the phone when I spoke to them only a few days before, but here in the hospital room they were putting on their stoic faces. My dad was taking care of all the crapwork--answering questions, that sort of thing. My grandma was talking about other things but if you looked at her close enough, you could see she was suffering. His death means a lot of things. She kept saying she didn't know where to begin, that this was a nightmare (she walked out of the room for just a moment, and when she returned he was gone). My dad tried to be strong, but every now and again his words and actions would belie him. Five or so minutes after we arrived, my dad went to my grandpa and shook his shoulder, saying "It's okay, Dad. It's really okay." I spoke with him right before we left and asked how he was doing. He said he figured his would be a delayed reaction. He also spoke of taking a moment during a trip to her house to look at all the things my grandfather had made. They used to go cut wood together. He's resigned himself now to not do that anymore. It's sad for me to hear that--every year they did it. They were great friends. If I can say anything about my father, it is this: he is amazing when it comes to taking care of his family.

My grandfather was a Korean war veteran and a machinist. He astounded me with his knowledge. He had his own little saw mill where he could take tree trunks and make 2 x 4s. He made his own nuts and bolts. His garage is something to marvel at. My dad has no idea how they're going to get through it all.

Everyone, of course, began to guess what my grandpa was up to now that he was gone. "He's probably meeting a lot of people right now," they said. "Probably eating a whole load of cookies." "Got a platter of food, I'll bet." Stuff like that. My grandma talked about how some people, right before they die, are reported as smiling and/or waving, or saying hello to themselves, how if that doesn't prove an afterlife she doesn't know what does. Of course I let her have this. I let them all have this. As for me, I didn't believe it. I just didn't.

Same goes for looking at his body. My SIL, after seeing her friend's dead son at his viewing, told me that it was a good experience--she, too, had balked at such things before. She said it reaffirmed to her that our bodies are mere shells. She could tell his spirit was gone. I spent some time looking at my grandfather, wondering if I saw and felt the same thing. I didn't. Other than the lack of breathing, it just seemed like he was in the room. He wasn't, and I knew that--I felt that--but it wasn't like something was missing. If I didn't think about it, he was just sleeping.

I also kept looking at him because I knew I wanted to go touch him and say goodbye. I had asked my dad over the phone yesterday to kiss him for me, but I wasn't sure he'd do that. Besides, I was there. Everyone else would take his hand and kiss his forehead. I wanted to, but I was absolutely terrified. I spent our entire visit debating with myself. I knew I'd regret it if I didn't, but I was afraid of rigor mortis and the cold of the dead.

Right before we left, I determined to approach him. I kissed him on the forehead. I think I said something but I don't remember what it was. I worried for a moment about my hair falling into his eyes but remembered straightaway that it didn't matter anymore. His skin was cold to the touch, but it wasn't a special kind of deathly cold. It was just as if he needed a blanket.

There's something comforting to me about just knowing that he was gone. Not that he, individually, was gone, but I wasn't worrying or speculating over what his spirit was doing or where he was. I didn't wonder about him being in the room with us, as my mom tried to reassure me he was (because we were too late). He was just gone, and it was up to us to make something good of it. It gave me a sense of strength I hadn't felt before.

I've thought a lot lately about being honest with myself. I fight with myself about Jesus--not so much god anymore, but Jesus. I'm holding on to threads, just like I did with Mormonism, but I think deep down I just don't believe. I have the door cracked, of course, but mostly I don't believe. And that's okay.

I'm going to miss him. I keep thinking about how he played "this little piggy" with my cousins and I when we were just little. He and my grandma weren't in a happy, loving marriage but they stuck together. He took great care of her and she of him. For a long time he didn't come with her to family get-togethers, and if he did he was quiet. He'd speak with my dad and my uncle out in the garage, of course, but in the home he was in his seat, sleeping. The last few years he became much more sociable. It was fun to see him that way.

I'm sure there's more to say. This is probably more for me than you, but that's okay. This is my journal.

I'm gonna miss him, but mostly I'm worried about my grandma. I'm sure that's okay. As for myself, I'm pretty proud. I fought through a lot to do what was best.

Resolutions 2011

2011-01-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

I generally don't bother making new year's resolutions, but I did last year and made it through July--which, I think, is pretty damn good. My resolution was simple: read one book a month. I even kept track. Some months I only read one, some months I read up to three. I'd like to make this resolution again, but with a full load at school and a family at home, I'm not all that sure how much time or motivation I'll have for casual reading. But I'd really, really like to.

At the moment I'm reading "The Six Wives of Henry VIII" by Allison Weir and am finding it terrifically interesting. I'm now about in the middle of his fifth wife, Katharine Howard. She'll be beheaded soon. It astounds me how accurate the series The Tudors is. The show does take artistic license, but damn. This book also makes me want to travel to England that much more. It has also reignited a rather passive love I have for history, and I'm seriously considering minoring in it. History and literature go together hand in hand.

If you're on Goodreads, look me up.

So that was the resolution last year. What stopped me? School, partly, but also my cycling. I get so disinterested in books sometimes. I may want to read but can't find it in me to read. It happens especially when I'm reading a more difficult book. Last year I slowed down considerably with The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. That said, I completely recommend the novel. Narrated by Death, it tells the tale of a small girl in Nazi Germany. It is not your typical WWII novel.

This reminds me: not too recently ago I had the idea of having a Literary Sunday kind of feature. I get so obsessed with religion and mormons that I forget my very first love. Surely that deserves more of my attention. Maybe I'll do that.

Anyway, this year's resolutions:

1) Try my damndest to not be so self-deprecating. This is especially difficult to do in the throes of a bad depression, but I need to do it. A few days ago it was bad, so I wrote down everything I was worrying about with regard to myself and my life. It helped. Thinking about good things with regards to myself, however, doesn't come very easily to me.

2) Resolve to stop allowing feeling lame to get in the way of allowing friends and family to help me. I also used this resolution today when I brought up a few posts of mine at Main Street Plaza. Yes, I was lame and nominated myself, but I'm proud of those posts (Stupid Mormon Words and Stupid Mormon Phrases) and feel they deserve some consideration.

3) Keep going forward. I am terrified of going to school, to the point where I regularly attempt to convince myself it is not only better but safer to stay home instead. It's enticing, but I'm not happy here. I'm just not.

And that's really it. If I keep thinking I'll come up with more, but with the year looking like it does I don't need more. Simple is best, for sure. I might also try to clean up my posts, but I won't make any promises. This isn't an especially serious blog (well it is, but it's hardly academic), and I don't want it to be. However, it would be a good exercise in writing, which I don't do nearly as often as I should or would like.

I'd also resolve to send in my resignation, but I've already done that.

My Patriarchal Blessing

2011-01-01T12:28:00.000-08:00

Here you go, folks. I keep meaning to post this but forget to. I'm going to leave out the first paragraph, you know. So-and-so, in the name of Jesus Christ, blahblahblah. This was given in September 2000.

I will admit, also, that I'm slightly afraid someone here is going to be "this isn't that stupid. it made you cry and really angry? dunno why." but it did.

This is also word for word. Spelling, grammar, all of that. One thing I can't bring myself to do is add in the double spaces after every period--can't blame the lady who did that. She's older and that used to be the rule, one I know personally to be a very difficult one to get over.

And now...

This blessing shall be unto you the mind and will of the Lord concerning His love for you, and your membership in His church.

Now, dear daughter, you are special unto your Heavenly Father. While you lived with Him in your pre-earth life, you lived among the noble and the great. You prepared yourself for mortality. You were schooled by your Elder Brother in the great plan He presented at the council, to come to this earth and have the opportunity to work out your salvation, then return and live with Him. Now, in your pre-earth life, you were valiant and faithful. You were of the believing blood. You accepted your Savior, and the great plan. You were expedient in encouraging and fostering others to do likewise. As you were schooled and trained there, you became knowledgable and desired to serve the Lord in many capacities. You were fore-ordained, blessed, and given certain talents there. Among the gifts you were given was the power and gift of discernment. Remember, dear daughter, that this gift is yours, and you will always know the truth. You were always be able to discern one from the other. Follow that which is good, and do the things which will enable this gift to bring blessings into your life, above and beyond measure. You were also given the talent of faith. It has been prescribed to you as one of your valuable talents. It will lead you in the direction the Lord wants you to go.

Now, dear daughter, you were one of the noble and great ones. You were chosen before you were born to the House of Israel. You are a daughter of Sarah. You will receive your blessings from Ephraim. He who was called by the Lord to preside over the Priesthood in these latterdays. This is your right and claim to Abrahams blessings. it is your right and claim to the Celestial Kingdom of God if you will but keep His commandments, and weave into every fiber of your being the eternal truths that have been disclosed unto you. Also other truths that will be disclosed to you as time goes on. You are a daughter of God, and He loves and cares for you. He wants you to be happy here, and when this life is over, He wants you to return and live with Him in the great Celestial Kingdom among the Gods.

Dear daughter, you are choice and special. Insomuch that you have been singled out, and have escaped the pollutions of the world because of your testimony, and have joined His only true church, lean upon the Lord. He loves you, He will not leave you comfortless. He will come unto you, and give you answer to your prayers. He will bless you in times of need with a guiding hand. His counsel for you is; gain an added testimony and knowledge of the Gospel. Do this by reading from the Book of Mormon. Make the blessings of the Prophets yours, that you might be spared from the sins of this generation through studying the Book of Mormon. Remember always that he loves and cares for you. He will give you answer to your prayers. The answers will come by your thinking out your problems, then presenting them to the Lord. As you ask Him which is right and what you should do to solve your problem, your bosom will burn, and you will know that He is your God. That He is your Savior, and Redeemer. That He is the Holy One of Israel, your Elder Brother, Jesus the Christ.

Now, keep the commandments, seek good company. As you go to school, live and keep your standards. Don't let them be lowered at any time for some momentary pleasure. If you will do this, God will honor your requests, and make you a great spiritual leader in His kingdom. You will truly be a daughter of Sarah, and a daughter of Rachael. You will become like all the chosen of Israel.

Now be patient and kind to your folks. They might not see things as you do, but set and example for them. You will find that these things will change. Always be found doing the things you should be doing at the right time, that His spirit might be with you, that you can be a missionary in the service of His kingdom, bringing many friends into the church. I bless you to this end, dear daughter, and say unto you; the Lord loves you. You are special unto Him. He will reveal His secrets unto you in the hour you will need them. You will become mighty in His church, insomuch that you will become a mother of righteousness and truth. When you seek out your companionship, seek for someone who will be able to take you to the Holy House of the Lord, where the blessings of the Temple will be bestowed upon you. You will have the great Celestial Marriage the Lord wants you to have. He will bless you with kind and loving children. He will bless you if you seek for it, a companion who can stand upon the principles of truth that you do. take nothing less than this, dear daughter. For these are the valuable things in life. They are the things that will take you back to your great Heavenly Home as you sojourn here in mortality. Always remember who you are. That you are a daughter of God, that He has sent you here. That He cares for you. So stand close to Him, and be in remembrance of Him for the things you will need help and guidance in. For you will receive His help in the hour you need it.

Now, Heavenly Father, bless this thy daughter. Bless her in all the things she might stand in need of. Bless her with health, strength, and wisdom, that she might have the power of discernment, that she will be lead down the paths of truth and righteousness. that she will bea ble to return unto thee, along with her love one's to the great Heavenly Home that thou has prepared for those who love thee.

Heavenly Father, I seal this special daughter of thine, up unto thee, that she might be protected from the sins of this world. That she might know thee, "the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent." That she might be caught up when thou cometh, which will be soon, to reign among the Lord of Lord's, that she will be caught up in the clouds of heaven to meet all the resurrected Saints. To be there with all who choose to live after thy pattern, to become like thee. May she be an inheritor, and live among the Kings and Queens of heaven. May this lot befall her. May she seek after these things and take nothing short of this great honor. Heavenly Father, we bless this daughter with all the things she might stand in need of. May thy attending Angels look after her. That she might live close unto thee. Bless her, and make her the promise, if she will keep thy commandments, she will be a mother of truth and righteousness, that thy blessings will follow her. I make her these promises, Heavenly Father, and say unto her; be faithful, keep the commandments, weaving into every fiber of her being these sacred truths the Savior has laid down for us. If she will do this, she will rise in the morning of the first resurrection, with her family, loved, ones, and all the Saints of God, to live with thee in the great eternal home among the Gods. May this lot befall her. May this be that which she seeks after, and is desirous of. I make these promises unto her upon her faith and faithfulness, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, Amen.

Nominate me?

2011-01-01T10:45:00.000-08:00

First, happy New Years everyone! Hope you had an amazing night. My kids got to stay up for the first time. Joseph, the littlest one, made it to within twenty minutes of midnight. The other two were wide awake.

Second: So kids, I've been really sick the last few days and haven't had any sort of brain function to even consider posting and I still kind of don't (but now that I've said that, tons of ideas will come to mind)

In the meantime, though, PLEASE NOMINATE ME FOR A BRODIE!

Edit: I just looked back and had NO IDEA, y'all. Thank you to whomever nominated me, it really means a lot. I guess I'm not all that familiar with my own blog post titles! But really, I appreciate your support. Loads.

<3

Wishing you all the best in the coming year!

Compromise

2010-12-27T19:23:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned this a few times before (I think) and I believe the sentiments are shared by fellow converts:

Y'all, I feel stupid for even complaining. BIC members had no fucking choice. Me? I was EIGHTEEN.

Yes, I know. Eighteen isn't exactly adult, except perhaps on paper. I could vote, couldn't drink, finally got my sorry ass out of high school, and had zero clue of what to do with myself. I had a great GPA, but not great enough to get into UC Santa Cruz--and it wouldn't take much to talk me out of even that. It just took a pretty girl full of energy who was willing to be my best friend and a group of people who loved me without even getting to know me (all they needed to know was that I was a potential inmate). Whereas once I was a social outcast, surrounded by people who had known me since preschool, I was a new person. They didn't know who I was. It was a relief.

And let's be honest: I needed to get the fuck out of my parents house. I needed to cut the cord, because my mom would never on her own.

So you have a convert who left the church and is now bitching about it. I feel lame for doing it, and like I said I'm not the only one. I know what the world is like without the church whereas BIC members have no clue.

But I've been doing some thinking.

I characterize myself as an ex-Christian girl, but if cornered you'd find out that I'm hard pressed to go very far in denouncing Christ. I may know what the world is like without the LDS church, I can largely break off from the hammering doctrine easily construed as brainwashing, but I can't get away from Christ.

For about a year following my disaffection I would denounce and bitch about the church, feeling rather confident in my feelings--but the second you put me with SIL for more than five seconds (if that), I'd leave with an enormous desire to go back. To figure out a way in. A compromise. In the end I knew I couldn't, but you can believe I tried. I believe I've said it recently, but that part is over now. Mostly because she has changed, and so have I. Because our friendship has fizzled, and I'm done mourning it nearly ten years after it began to crack.

That said, I still have Christ. I have entered into one church since leaving the LDS church that hasn't thrown me into a complete fit of anxiety and panic. I wasn't totally calm by any means, but I didn't freak out. And while that church is nowhere near me now (you wouldn't catch even a UU church within 45 miles of me), sometimes I think "you know, if I were to attend a church that would be the one."

But then it stops, because I don't believe. But I want to. Sometimes I want to so, so bad.

I want to compromise my beliefs sometimes, but I don't even try to. I don't because Eric is atheist through and through now and I don't want to deal with that, even though I know he'd deal with it. I don't because my desires always hit a brick wall when I realize I don't believe. Not really.

Christmas was weird for this. All the children's shows and whatever featuring characters who mentioned Christ and the way I'd react inside, wondering when we're going to have The Talk with the kids. Jason, I know, is interested. My views (my scrooge-ish views) on Santa changed: let 'em believe! then later we can use that as a lesson regarding how everyone can tell you one thing and yet it's still wrong: use yr brain, kids). I couldn't just relax. I'm on constant vigilance, and it hurts. It physically hurts.

I need to come to some sort of peace, but I don't know how. I've rejected Mormonism after some work, now I'm working on my feelings regarding Christianity which entails a lifetime of inherent belief. Even when I took the four year sabbatical from church, I still believed.

It fucks me up with regard to my kids. It just really sucks.

Christmas

2010-12-25T23:07:00.000-08:00

You know, I get that the snarky and funny and general pain-in-the-ass posts brings all the boys to the yard but the last few days I'm not feeling it so much.

Except for my Joe Smith birthday picture. That was pretty funny. At least to me.

Spent the day at the in-laws and have done a bit of thinking. I do this every now and again, get all introspective and that shizz--start to feel bad for including their comments and whatnot in my posts. My comments are not meant to be personal--again, dislike the church, love the people. Most of them, at least. They are people. It's what the church does to the people.

That said--and this is a big but--I love watching Eric and his siblings interact. They are, no joke, the best people I know. His youngest brother gave up his bed for me five Christmases ago when I was in active labor with Joseph. That was not an easy time for any of us. His sister (and the youngest brother) babysat the two other monkeys while I dealt with being in labor without my asking.

His younger sister used to be my best friend ever. And while she's changed considerably and while she was totally against "Christmas Vacation" tonight and does all that stuff, I love her. I used to say I missed her terribly, but I think I'm a few steps into acceptance. She used to be the girl who made me want so much to find a way to be a part of the church, but I'm no longer trying. It's funny how there's one person for each little step for me: one friend who makes me want to fit into the LDS creed, and then there's another who makes me want to try to fit into Christianity--even if just a little. Another post I'll hopefully remember later.

Anyway, five of Eric's six siblings were there today and they are all fun to watch. My brother and I are not close, and I'll freely admit I'm jealous I didn't and don't have the family Eric has. If that's what being LDS meant--having an amazing family--I'd totally rethink this. But I'm being idealistic, even there. Still, they are so neat to be around. I am the weirdo in their midst, but I'm hardly ignored--they try, dog bless them. There's a hope in being around them that my family will be even a little like them. I don't want my family to be like the one I grew up with. This fear, the one that leaving meant we were doomed to be like mine, was a big one that kept me from accepting my disillusionment.

But you know, my dad called me today. He's done that quite a bit lately (quite a bit being more than once), and today was special because he called me just to see how things were going. My dad doesn't do that.

And even though it would've been fine because we were at MILs house and they're all active members, church talk was minimal. Like ridiculously minimal. One mention of Christ's birth during the blessing of the fud and a gift of "The Princess Bride" that brought the comment "Every Mormon family has this movie!"

Which, you know, they do. And if they don't the individual people can quote the entire thing for you. Maybe that was another sign I'd never make it: "The Princess Bride" has played for me about five times and I've only stayed awake for it once. Not because I found it boring--not at all--I was just always sleepy when it played. Bad timing. Indeed.

And now it's eleven o'clock. The kids went to bed about twenty minutes ago, having been up since about 5am. I expect to sleep in in the morning, and now we've a big family get-together for all the late december/early january birthdays in the family (so many that i was afraid to announce joseph's due date), planned before the sibs go back home.

Like I said, I don't feel like I belong so much (especially anymore), but I like being around them all the same.

I could've done a LOT worse. I truly struck gold.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-23T20:34:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, as some of you might know already, I feel like I can be a bit bitchier than is called for. My "War on Christmas" commentary included--

I realize what I've said cannot be wholly or honestly categorized as violent or to the same standard as others, but I've certainly put in my own two cents, much of what isn't necessarily original. You know, "the date is pagan, blahblahblah"

And while I've said it before, I want to say it again: I understand that the birth of Christ is an integral part of the holiday for many, many people.

I just get annoyed.

Even as an active Christian, this war on Christmas crap bothered me. Happy Holidays was just fine. Seasons Greetings. All of it is better than "Fuck off." And it did bother me to walk into Walmart and hear a very pointed "Merry Christmas" from their employees, knowing it was specifically called for from a company who places Christian things on its shelves and keeps its stuff "family friendly." Honest to god, I see more Glenn Beck crap than anything else in there.

All the while dealing with the guilt that is associated with shopping at Walmart. And now Target.

But that's a whole 'nother post.

I just wish this time of year encompassed everything it claims to be about, but all of this bitching doesn't make it what it is supposed to be. I watch these programs that tell us about love and hope and giving--nothing exclusively Christian, but values Christianity claims, but I don't see it. I see a lot of people fighting over who is the biggest victim. I wish it wasn't.

These days I lean more atheist, one who needs a lot of help in the living authentically department, but I believe in these things too.

Christ hung out with the sinners. He didn't condemn them--he told them to sin no more, but he had compassion. It was the hypocrites he didn't care for. He broke the rules in order to serve the poor and needy.

This is the time of year, I think, when everyone should reconsider their thoughts and actions and keep it to themselves instead of projecting their faults onto others and then judging others for their projected faults. I've been a bit proud myself, thinking I was better because I don't need a carrot. I think we all need carrots, whether it be heaven or a good reputation, a good feeling inside. Years ago I took a class called "Philosophy of Religion" as an LDS investigator under the guise of seeking it all out. The professor argued that pure altruism didn't exist--there's always a motive in doing good. Always. I rejected his argument in totality back then, but sometimes (like now) I wonder more and more if he was right. But is that so bad, and if not, how can I judge those who need heaven in order to do good? I don't think it's good to need heaven because I'd rather deal with people who are good to be good, but is that always the case with these folks?

Again, a whole other post.

I like Christ. I don't think I believe he was necessarily a divine being or even a being period, but I like much of what I read about him. Some of what I read, with special consideration of Matthew 5:48, makes my shoulders turn to brick:

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

That one always gets to me. When I'm not kicking myself for not being perfect, I'm kicking myself for feeling perfect.

Anyway, what was that Gandhi said? It's so popular these days, especially in light of Anne Rice's distancing from Christianity: "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

But I shouldn't judge. Some of the best people I know consider themselves Christian. Religion has no bearing on who is good and who is not.

And I guess that's the point. This blog/journal here is to work my way through my feelings regarding religion, and from time to time I get up on my high horse and preach preach preach. I'll make fun. And I'll probably do it again and again. Sometimes I'll feel justified, other times I'll apologize and perhaps even delete. I believe in poking fun, and I believe that religion can be more harmful than helpful. I hate the LDS church, even though it was there for me when I needed something good the most. I still don't understand that. There is a lot about spirituality and the need for religion that I don't understand. So I may not like religion but that doesn't mean I don't like its people. I don't know about it being good while acknowledging that it does good things. These days I can't figure out my fascination with Catholicism (I want to attend mass) while knowing what I know about the abuses therein.

Without trying to this year I bought two different kinds of Christmas cards--one said "Merry Christmas" and the other "Happy Holidays." For the briefest moment I considered being an ass and sending people like my father the "Happy Holidays" one, but stopped. This really isn't the time of year for that--and is any time of year appropriate for that? When I'm feeling mature enough I realize there is not. That doesn't mean I wasn't an ass in some other cards, just to the people who would appreciate it.

There are moments I feel pretty good about myself, but they're few and far between. Lately I've done little but degrade myself. But I'm trying. I think most people are.

I think that's all that matters.

So Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays--whatever you like. It doesn't matter. God knows Christians and atheists alike celebrate, and if he's the kind of god Christians claim he is, he won't and doesn't give a shit about labels, just the heart. And it's in this way that I don't think Christmas is exclusively Christian.

Besides, O Little Town of Bethlehem remains my favorite Christmas song. Ever.

What's more, the LDS Hymns version (MoTab?) is the only acceptable version.

Happy birthday!

2010-12-23T10:18:00.000-08:00

It's Joseph Smith's 200-and-something birthday, everyone!

Anyone remember his 200th birthday? I remember being all squeamish. How can they say we don't worship him and then put on that show?

I think I'll celebrate my nephew's birthday instead. Great kid. My 6-year-old son adores him ("he does dangerous stuff!"). He's 12 today.

Oh god.

Modesty is annoying.

2010-12-22T13:58:00.000-08:00

"This would be a great dress if it had a bit more dress, you know?"

I heard this statement last night more than I ever want to again during a shopping trip with a few active friends of mine (family). One hunted for dresses in particular at Forever 21 (and Target, both decent places for clothes).

I thought a few of these were fantastic dresses. A few were a little iffy, if you're not into showing a little cheek. But you know, whatever. She looked good.

Seriously. ENOUGH.

It sounds so holier-than-thou. Especially when said dresses hit you mid-thigh. Mid-thigh! And she could pull it off. If I could pull of some of these dresses, you can bet your ass I'd be in them. Be in them while you can! Hell, I've got at least one now. Can you say "cleavage"? HELL TO THE YEAH.

Bah.

A little bit of awesome.

2010-12-20T18:35:00.000-08:00

You're in a meeting--Relief Society, YM/YM, Elder's Quorum, etc. The topic of inactives comes up.

"What can we do to bring him/her back?"

You shrug. "Do we really want that bitch back in our ward?"

Modest Lingerie: Brought to you by the Ensign

2010-12-18T12:31:00.000-08:00

Dudes. I'll just leave you with the title. Honest to god, it's enough. 1971, sure, but still!!

Lingerie: Feminine AND MODEST.

Good fucking LORD.

Their poor, poor, poor sex lives.

Patriarchal Blessings

2010-12-16T09:46:00.000-08:00

So glad I'm not alone.

Then again, had I KNOWN I wasn't alone at the time, I might've gotten the fuck out a lot sooner. Then again, I wouldn't have met Eric.

I swear, it's all sorts of fucked up.

For those who may not know what a patriarchal blessing is, in each stake there is one or two generally old men who are "set apart" to be the Patriarch. One of these old dudes gives what is often referred to as a personal scripture to each worthy member of the church after an interview with their bishop who determines worthiness. I think new members have to wait at least a year. So this "blessing" tells you about who you were in the premortal existence, what lineage you can claim re: the 12 tribes of Israel, warnings to watch out for in the present time and what you can expect in the future. If, say, your blessing promises you a marriage to a worthy woman which results in many children and you--gasp--don't get it (also counts for going on a mission), it is rationalized that you will receive such things in the afterlife.

So lately I'm reading a lot of other people's accounts of how their patriarchal blessings began with a fairly long "interview" where the almighty patriarch (he who is endowed--teehee--with the ability of a psychic to know my past, present AND future) before the actual "blessing"

The entire time I'm speaking with this man I'm thinking "wtf, are you serious? this is very weird." I KNEW I was in effect giving this man the answers before the test. This feeling was verified during the actual blessing as I was told all the same shit I just told this guy. Nothing--nothing--was new to me.

I was so pissed for years after this. Just pissed. I was in tears. I wanted to tell somebody, but that's just not an option. It's supposed to be just for you, nobody else. You can give away a few things here and there in the correct setting, but never ever share the entire thing with anyone other than your parents and/or spouse.

I should post it. I should. Maybe another time. Oh wait, I did!

And I understand that this may be nit-picking and rather punctuation-crazy of me (although I understand I'm not perfect at this either), but I couldn't believe the errors once I received my printed copy. Shouldn't something of this importance be, you know, professionally transcribed?

Every time I read it I wanted to cry. It just made me so angry. Once I married Eric I was happy to show him and confess, finally, that I hated it. I hated it more once I read his. He loved mine, though, and I could never figure out why. I loved his. I don't remember why. It just seemed better in a lot of ways.

I felt robbed. Any asshole can ask a few choice questions and them "predict" shit. Also, when all else fails just say this person is of the tribe of Ephraim and make some shit up when that person's other family member is of the tribe of, say, Benjamin (it's supposed to be a blood thing--if you're Jewish you'll be assigned to the Judah--I think. Correction?)

It's fucking ridiculous.

Now that I've posted it, you can see it at My Patriarchal Blessing

It's time

2010-12-15T09:06:00.000-08:00

After adding "Fanny Alger" to my FB friends list the other day, I thought that perhaps I should begin my own little profile where I can be totally offensive. Eric agreed, haha. I do a good job of making that man uncomfortable. He is my checks and balances system. I'm his "just do it" girl.

Anyways, if you'd like to be friends with me on my new profile, send me an email at irreverency(at)att(dot)net and we'll get all set up. It's my place to bitch about religion, so if you're not into that don't bother, k? if that's you, no worries. i'm not going to think any less of you.

I don't know how active I'll be--depends on how I'm feeling at any given time and the time I have to mess around, but it should be fun.

Also, please send with your request a little note about how I might know you. I'd appreciate it.

Loud Laughter

2010-12-14T16:22:00.000-08:00

I've probably told the first part of this story before on my last blog, but not everyone here read that blog (I think?) and/or doesn't remember it.

So, loud laughter. If you've been to the temple you made that promise to avoid it. I never really knew what this meant--huh? Can't laugh loud? WTF is that all about?

Weird.

But you know, it's hard not to. Especially when you're in Sunday School and your husband is thumbing through the scriptures for some reason and starts to giggle. I nudged him. I'm easily embarrassed.

"Look," he whispered, offering his scriptures to me. Joshua 5:3

And Joshua made him sharp knives, and circumcised the children of Israel at the hill of the foreskins.

I BUSTED A GUT.

I don't know why this was so hilarious to us at the time--perhaps the lesson was especially boring that morning, or perhaps it was because Eric and I tend to have our minds in the gutter more often than most (it seems--am I wrong?) Not that our minds were in the gutter, so much, but "hill of the foreskins" just hit our funny bone.

We couldn't shut up. Front row. Everyone's looking at us, and we know it, but "hill of the foreskins" is an immensely funny phrase at the moment and it was going to take us a while to get over our fit.

Granted, not exactly a situation of "loud laughter" but irreverent nonetheless, being that we were in the middle of Gospel Doctrine learning about whatever regurgitated and repetitive nonsense Correlation had decided was doctrine that year.

It was fun. We would turn to that verse often throughout the following years. It wasn't always so funny, but it's a good memory. When we dared tell the story to others (this was in our active days), our recounting was generally met with quizzical but polite smiles and nervous laughter.

Foreskins, ha!

Fast forward about...oh, five years. We believe this took place the last time Eric and I entered a temple. Sacramento, California. I wasn't a big fan of this temple. Small, whatever. And you had to make an appointment. Laaaame. I'm loyal to Oakland. My first temple, where I was married, big and has a cafeteria and clothing rentals. Maybe not as shiny, but gorgeous.

Anyway.

So we took Eric's dad, sister, and BIL with us to the temple to do something or other. Endowment session, I think. We ended up being late, so we called to let them know. Nothing they could do, they said. We had a late appointment.

But wait! You have three priesthood members? Could you pretty plz do some sealing sessions?

We agreed. Once we arrived, we dressed ourselves in the weird getup and somehow ended up in the sealing room with an older man who acted as the sealer. I don't remember much about this day except that Eric broke into a random fit of giggles in the middle of the ordinances.

It was fucking hilarious, y'all. But I didn't think want to let on that I thought so at the time, being concerned about offending his family. Other than his sister being there, his fucking dad was there. He can be rather devout.

Instead of getting chastised, everyone else (except the sealer, and maybe his dad) started laughing too. The sealer didn't know what the hell to do.

People, it was priceless.

That said, on the way home Eric ran a red light at one of those camera intersections and we got BUSTED. I'm sure they think it was some sort of punishment for the irreverent way he acted in the temple. It sucked, for sure. Five hundred dollars hurts.

But the memory of the sealer is still funny. Like Eric said the other day, it could've been funnier if he would've chastised us. Mostly he just looked at us like this O_o and went about his business.

(Slightly off topic) another way to make a temple worker look at you like you've grown two heads: get your new name for your dead person, sit in the chapel, get really REALLY uncomfortable and then go give the name lady your proxy paper and say "I'm not doing this."

I'd like to know how often that happens.

11 Better Places to Spend Your Tithing Money

2010-12-13T09:45:00.000-08:00

1. Therapy

2 Charities, duh. But reputable ones, otherwise you're making the same mistake you were when you paid tithing.

3. Do something about that savings account

4. More/better food for your family.

5. Books--fiction or non-fiction, doesn't matter. Just books.

6. School--for yourself and/or your kids

7. Clothes.

8. House--y'know all that crap you need to fix but couldn't afford before. Or, you know, rent and bills. That way you might not need church assistance.

9. That medicine you couldn't afford before.

10. Credit card bill. I love how the church insists on tithing (yes, insists) and then has to tell everyone every fucking year to live within their means and stay out of debt all the while preaching that the wimminz stay in their place at home having too many babies before the family can fucking afford them. Live within your means, indeed.

11. Flush it down the toilet.

Because, really, the church is doing well enough on its own and should probably build its own goddamn buildings and temples. I actually have no problem with members helping to clean the buildings (I really enjoyed it despite my grumblings; it helped me feel a pride for the building and a sense of ownership I hadn't felt before).

Jesus didn't want alms for the temples. He wanted alms for the poor, and as anyone could notice if they thought about it for more than two seconds--fast offerings, those offerings actually meant for the poor--come in second place.

And y'all, the church ain't poor.

Annoying

2010-12-12T17:10:00.000-08:00

Y'know what's annoying?

Going shopping for your mother/MIL and finding a totally hilarious book that you know they'd love EXCEPT IT SAYS "FUCK" TOO MUCH.

Therefore, even if they did like it they'd get this disappointed/weird/this-isn't-worthy look on their faces. EVEN IF THEY DID LIKE IT. They might read it in a distant, dark corner and giggle, but they'd repent later.

Which they would. Eric's stepfather would love it, especially, but he's weird. He's irreverent and mouthy one minute and the next he's being preachy. But I know they'd secretly love it, which is why I want to get it for them anyways, but Eric's pretty sure it's too much. Which it probably is, but for reals.

Dudes. I get that sometimes overuse of the word can be too much and unwelcome, but this shizz is funny.

And these people difficult enough to shop for, anyway.

I'm still tempted.

Stupid Church

2010-12-10T15:15:00.000-08:00

I know I already posted today and I worked on it and yadayada, but here's something that needs a bit of awareness:

LDS Church Buys Ogden Motel: Closes the Doors

"Residents of the Ogden Lodge were scrambling to find a new place to live Thursday as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints finalized the purchase of it and plans to demolish the motel to pave the way for future development...The property is of interest to the church because of its proximity to the Ogden Utah Temple and the church's well-established support of downtown redevelopment efforts," [Scott Trotter, a spokesman for the church] said, adding that plans for the land have not been determined.

Now it seems the seller (not the church) was responsible for giving the residents sufficient time to get the fuck out, but one guy says he only got notice last week. The Church is throwing it's arms in the air "we were assured!"

But does it matter?

The Church doesn't even know what the fuck they're going to do with the property. And it's their property now, not the other dude's. Can't they just say "okokok, you know what, Christ would let you keep your home or at least give you somewhere else to live. At the very least we could wait until next year. It's not like we're hurting financially or plan on doing anything until next summer. Merry Christ-Christmas-Christ."

Naaaah.

"My name is Tom Monson. I oversee '13 million' members of the Church. I wax poetic about widows so y'all know how compassionate I am. I call myself a prophet, a seer, and a revelator; even a businessman who represents Christ. As such, I needlessly kick the unfortunate out of their crappy but needed homes right before Christmas for our financial benefit. And I'm a Mormon."

Keep paying your tithing, good members. It's doing awesome things.

Teaching gender tolerance

2010-12-10T11:58:00.000-08:00

The other day I had a talk with my daughter, who is seven. She goes through regular periods where she wants a sister so bad and tells me that we need to have a girl so she'll have someone to play barbies with. Usually when this happens, I tell her offhandedly that we're not having more kids and then I give her cousin a call (who also is without sisters) and arrange for her to come over because her best friend is more tomboy than a barbie girl--and she's a member. I don't give a shit that she's a member, but I'm beginning to suspect that perhaps her mother might. I dunno.

Anyway, this last time we had a talk. I sat her down and told her, again, that Mommy and Daddy could have fifty more kids and they could all turn out to be boys. "We just can't control it," I explained.

"Why not?"

Oh god. The timing was all wrong. While I have no problem (theoretically) having "the talk" with my daughter, her timing, whenever we get close like this, is always bad.

I mumbled something about mommies and daddies, not really sure if this was really the time. I'm waiting for the "where do babies come from" line, but maybe that's not how it always goes.

Eventually I went another route. "Sweetheart, if we had a girl it wouldn't likely be what you think it'd be like. Little sisters are extremely annoying. She'd be all up in your stuff. Wearing or eating your makeup. Messing with your toys. She'd be up all night as a baby. In time she'd want to hang out with you and your friends, and you won't want her anywhere near you. Eight years is a big difference. It won't pay off for another twenty years at least.

"Not only that," I added, "but she could end up just like I was and hate barbies."

"You hated barbies?"

"Yeah. It doesn't mean that barbies are bad, I just didn't like dolls. I wanted to play in the mud with the boys. So what if she ended up like me? You still wouldn't have anyone to play barbies with. We can't keep having kids until you get the sister you want. It might not ever happen."

She began to get the point. Still, I didn't like barbies? Wha?

I explained to her again that it didn't mean barbies were bad or good, it's a personality thing. I explained to her that some boys like dolls and barbies. That I know of one personally. She didn't quite know what to think of that, but I insisted on it. "It's not a boy thing or a girl thing, just a people thing. And it's okay."

Then I told her that, especially at her age, it's best to not count on a sister as something to solve her problems but to lean on her cousin or friends. This might prove difficult later (and has proven weird already) with regard to her cousin, being taught already about taking care of babies and cooking and church and specifically "pink" girl things like that, but y'know, whatever. For now, maybe for a while longer. Maybe forever. We'll have to see.

She got it. She's not happy about it, but she got it. And I understand her issues--I had a stepsister I hated (and despise still), another stepsister six years older than me who scared the shit out of me, and now a half-sis who I'm riding a thin line with. I always wanted someone I could talk with. I still do. I've my brother, but he lives 9 hours away now and we just were never close. I wish that wasn't the case, but it is. And that was my other point. Just because you're siblings doesn't mean jack shit.

It's just not all cut and dry.

Now I worry about my boys. The older one tends to hold rather black and white views on gender stereotypes. It might be due in part to us. I've noticed a few things here and there that we've only helped encourage, but it's his personality too. He's very much a boy (if you will). My heart sank a little when he said not to long ago "A boy marrying a boy?!" with a bit of shock and derision. The situation didn't merit a quick response and I just didn't know what to do. I didn't see it coming. I don't know where he's getting this crap from--my SILs house is very much gender-centric, but they don't spend a ton of time there. Maybe it's the social crap he hears on TV. Maybe it's the other boys at school--we're beginning to notice that he wants to play with the "cool" boys, and it scares me a little.

That said, if he's a "boy" like this, I shouldn't want to change him. If he likes stereotypical boy things, then that's fine. I need to remember that--it's part of who he is. I just don't want him to judge others for not being like him or feel the need to seem more "boyish" to fit the fucking mold and fit in. That won't happen in my house, not as much as we can help it.

But don't get me wrong, he is one of the most thoughtful and helpful and amazing kids I've ever been blessed to know. He'll help without being asked. He loves so much and gives the best hugs. He's a cuddler, and so smart. Unbelievably forgiving--to a fault, I worry, but forgiving. He responds best when you have a calm talk with him (most kids probably do, however). He understands. Huge heart. I have a lot to learn from him. As a kid who seems to have a lot of respect from his peers, I do think there's immense potential with him to be an influence. I want him, all of them really, to stand up for others when they're bullied. He's a big kid for his age, a good looking kid. A great kid. He could be an amazing force for good.

Then there's my youngest. He, like Jason, is incredibly social but much softer. I worry about him getting teased for being a little less than the stereotypical boy. He likes to play rough and all that crap, but he's a little less militant about it, if you will. He's in preschool right now, though, and gets along with EVERYONE. He won't let a kid come into the playground to begin school without saying hi. The other parents notice. He's just incredibly friendly. Got a bit of a temper, but so friendly. Just by personality alone, he too could be a force for good.

I worry about Abbie because, while she's such a great kid herself, she's a lot like me. I'm trying to figure out how to help her get past her confidence issues. She, too, could be a great force for good.

So I try to recognize "teaching moments" when it comes to these things, but I don't get to with Jason so much. Abbie and I have talks, and she knows. Joseph, I think, knows--but he's only four. Really, they're all young yet. I really don't care who they are, just as long as they're accepting of others and give out the respect they are deserving of themselves. I will admit, though, that I'm still learning. I come from a long history of this crap, and you know I like it when my man does his manly stuff and I like it when my boy holds a door open for us. I love being taken care of. I love girly things (i just don't have time, access, or knowledge to find the right ones) and all of that. So I struggle to not only realize that I need to learn how to do things, but to ensure my daughter learns it too. That she'll mow the lawn on occasion and my boys will mop the floor and clean the bathroom. She'll know how to change the oil in her car (something I've yet to learn) and they'll vacuum the house.

Deprogramming takes a while, especially when this shit is everywhere. Still, it was good for me to remember that I hardly fit the stereotype as a kid. As I grew older and especially in the church, I began to embrace more my feminine side--and I like it and want to learn more--but still. The church talks about self-reliance but does everything it can to prevent it in its women, if not by not teaching them basic things then by telling them their place is in the home, barefoot and pregnant.

This gender shit pisses me off more and more, like the other day when I went to find a microscope for my daughter. "Science" was listed under the "boys" section. I wanted to scream.

I realize I've some physical hurdles. I'm short and not as strong as Eric, for example. I don't expect to be able to do it all, but basic stuff I should be able to do. The problem is that during my stint in the church I never tried as hard. I did the whole "oh i can't do it" damsel in distress crap. I'm beginning to remember now that I'm stronger than I look, and I'm getting that competitive side of me back. It surprises Eric because he's not used to me having that confidence. He won't ask for my help, or think we need a third person, but I'm insistent now. I'm not a waif.

We all need to ask for help sometimes. Men can't do everything, either. We do complement each other, but it's not just a vagina vs. penis thing. It's personality. The longer Eric and I are out of the church the more we're seeing in each other a different personality emerge. It can be scary, but I think in the end we'll be stronger for it. He saw peeks of my real personality in the beginning anyway. I saw a little of his, but he's largely the same person. Just atheist.

I just want my kids to be strong. And I worry. I don't want to tell my boys to hold back on expressing less-than-masculine qualities just because some asshole might take them to task for it--but it's tempting. While it happens to girls, too, let's face it: it's rougher on the boys as it's more acceptable for a girl to be boyish. So I haven't figured out how I'll deal with that. I think, perhaps, confidence is the answer. But when you're a person still trying to build confidence in yourself, it's hard to know how to instill it in others.

But I'm trying. We'll get there.

I want this sign

2010-12-09T07:30:00.000-08:00

I saw a sign like it at my uni's bookstore as a christmas decoration, and you can bet your ass I almost bought it. Don't know why I didn't. Probably because it was just for Christmas and green and red doesn't exactly go with my intended kitchen color scheme (red, white, black). But stuff like this will.

Now if I could get the addendum for tomorrow we die.

Hmm.

Conservative Faith and the Literate Female

2010-12-08T12:02:00.000-08:00

An interesting tidbit I learned a few months ago.

When more opportunities become available outside of child rearing, most women delay motherhood and have fewer children. In fact, birth rates are lowest in countries where income is high and women are provided with education. This information provides a clear direction for public policies attempting to decrease population growth rates: improve conditions for women, including increasing access to education, health care, and the job market, and provide them with the information and tools that allow them to regulate their fertility.*

Makes sense, yeah?

Our planet's population is currently inching (though quickly) toward 7 billion people, and scientists disagree on how much more Earth can take. A U.N. report estimates it is around 10.3 billion--though a theoretical estimate is around 20 billion (briefly, this population of humans, however, would likely require the obliteration of other species as we'd need all the photosynthetic plants we could get--couldn't have competition for resources).

That said, the growth rate is projected to slow down rather considerably by 2050--but this may be an indication we are nearing capacity. I won't go into my amateurish overview of what this may or may not mean, but capacity is capacity. I don't want to be squished--besides not handling crowds well, there are health hazards to be aware of as well that we don't currently deal with. And you know, lack of food and resources because too many of us tend to think we're going to last forever.

But you know, money is powerful. Love of money is the root...ok i'll stop.

So perhaps Gordon B. Hinckley wasn't entirely off base when he said this...shit I can't find the quote (help?). But I do remember him saying, some years ago, something to the effect that in the near future, the population growth will not only steady but decline and we cannot allow that to happen. So, you crazy kids, have more babies. You covenanted, after all.

God will not be mocked.

Anyway, I could go on but this is the basic jist. We're growing too fast and using up far too many nonrenewable resources and those who seem the least willing to accept this are the conservative zionists.

(Hi, Glenn Beck)

While there isn't much concern about the growth rates of developed nations as its the underdeveloped nations that struggle hard with their growth rates re: their quality of life (you know, the ones we're preaching abstinence to), I can't help but think of the LDS and other religious groups such as the Quiverfull Movement who are still working hard on multiplying and replenishing the Earth. So, y'know, keep those girls in the kitchen. Keep building huge families. Education is for teh men.

I realize this is hardly the only reason (if one at all) for the patriarchy, and I'm hardly advocating anything by way of controlling family sizes--but the inherent control factor regarding women concerns me greatly. It's like a few of my commenters said: girls should be given choices. Real ones. Not "You have free-agency ladies, but if you don't do what we tell you to God will smite thee and you'll be unhappy forever for not fulfilling your divine role!" And I wonder now, too, if this education thing is part of keeping the rebellious in the house.

Oh god! If they go to school they'll likely stop having so many goddamn kids! Quick! To the batcave!

SO this crap of barefoot and pregnant, keeping teh house clean and dinners prepared and the kids well-groomed and all that other crap is preached day in, day out. All this bullshit about gender roles has been magnified over the past few years. Women who aren't happy at home stay home because that's "their place." They have no choice, not if they value their eternal souls. And it's not just the Mormons who teach this.

I mean, damn. We're multiplying and replenishing a little too well. They have to know that. Give the girls a break.

What do you think?

*Biology: Science for Life With Physiology. 3rd Ed. p. 355

Just because.

2010-12-07T19:59:00.000-08:00

Because I'm doing fine--even good--all fucking day and then WHAM, one little comment or one little whatever throws me back down a hole black enough to scare me. And words elude me far more than I can give justice to in order to explain.

So. This is funny.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

The Gretch Who Saved the War on Christmas

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show Full Episodes

Political Humor

The Daily Show on Facebook

Wrestling with school. Again.

2010-12-07T11:13:00.000-08:00

Few things these days make me angrier than the fact that I'm 29 and haven't finished school, that I'll be 35 when I'm done if the planets align and I don't have to take a break here and there. That many who I run into and am acquainted with, non-members, are those who have either finished school or who are, you know, 21 and almost done. And there are worrisome issues after that. How hard I have to fight to do it. I can blame some of it on the church, but in the end the church was the perfect scapegoat. It gave me the excuse I was looking for. But it also encouraged me to give up my dreams. It encouraged me to rely on others (read: men), just as I'd always been encouraged to do--if not men, then others. To allow my fears to get the better of me because I'd never been allowed to stand up to them before.

Do y'all have ANY IDEA how terrified I am? Any idea? Two days ago I was looking up the phone number so I could call the university to tell them I couldn't do it. After all the bullshit I've fought past, all it took was one little phone call to the university day care program and the simple comment "There's really a slim to no chance you'll get your son in, so don't get your hopes up. We don't have much if any turnover this time of year."

Motherfucker!

You have to understand, and you'll likely remember if you've been here a while, even this past semester where I took ONE CLASS at my local community college I had to fight like hell just to be able to take just ONE CLASS. And to do that, I had to rely on the amazing help of my amazing step-MIL who picked up my kids once a week and then one other day when I had to help out in Joseph's class because putting the older two in the after-school program for a grand total of 45 minutes for $12 is ridiculous. I understand I could leave them there longer, but there's no reason for that. I would have, though, if I had to. If she wasn't so willing.

Now I feel bad.

I have a super-guilt complex when it comes to my kids, even though I told myself since high school that I would not repeat what my mom did: give herself entirely for my brother and I. I know this sounds noble, but she's always been so unhappy and without anything else to turn to when we were gone. It made her hold onto us that much harder because she didn't know what to do with herself when we weren't there. While it is certainly attributed to our own personalities, it didn't help us become independent in the least respect. I'm still struggling.

I still don't know if this is church-related or what. I really don't.

But next semester, in order for me to attend my classes, I very well may have to call on some more help. Three days a week. Step-MIL home-schools, as does MLDSFDTS. SMIL said she could watch Joseph for me on Fridays. My cousin volunteered quite freely to help, but she's got some things to work out for herself and may not always be available. I'm sure I could work something out, but y'all, it exhausts me to think of doing this again. I'm almost broken.

And neither Eric or I enjoy asking for help of this caliber. It's a lot to ask, and it requires a lot of trust on my part.

And it makes me so fucking angry. I'm angry because Eric didn't need to worry about this shit. He had his own things to worry about, granted, but he didn't have to worry about scheduling around me or the kids. At all. And in that way I feel terribly alone. Eric is willing to do what he can, and without his support I wouldn't even be trying, but even then: alone.

I don't know if I can do this. I'm pretty determined, but there's still a chance I'll opt to wait out until Joseph is in the first grade and I at least don't have to worry about this daycare stuff. I hate the idea of dropping him off at my cousin's house--he doesn't really know her (i can fix that somewhat) and I don't know how much fun he'd have there. I hate the idea of what my schedule will be like three-days-a-fucking-week. An hour there, four hours in class, race home to pick them up, ten minutes later pick up Joe at his preschool here. I also have my online class to worry about.

Y'all, I don't handle stress well. I really don't. Sometimes I do, but there are days...and that makes me question this entire thing. But I also think about what going will mean. And if I can't teach for whatever reason, there are other options. When I remember why I'm going, what it will do for me and my family, I've never been more determined.

The church took this away from me. Not directly, but indirectly. And I'm pissed. It didn't care about me enough to encourage this good thing. It told me to stay home, barefoot and pregnant all the time. It told me to multiply and replenish the fucking earth all on my own. It told me to submit (sorry, "hearken") to my husband. It told me that I could work only if I fucking had to, but even then that work such as that of a secretary was all I should do. Only single women in the early twenties who have "no opportunity" to marry a man are allowed to finish college. And I had the opportunity. Thank God I married a good man. I swear I'd be divorced by now if I hadn't.

And then what.

And not only that, but this whole fucking bipolar thing. It makes these things 100x harder. And while I'm fairly certain it would've reared its ugly head at some point anyway, my "heeding" the church's ugly teachings triggered it earlier than it probably would have otherwise.

This brings me to sobbing tears every day lately. The kids don't remember Eric being gone all the time, going to school. Abbie remembers a little, but it's like her surgeries and doctors appointments: she sees the scars and remembers some of the invasive procedures and yearly ultrasounds, but they're a forgone memory. She was young. They're done. They'll remember me being gone. They don't quite understand it. And I simply don't feel like a "good mom" anyway--mostly because now I don't know what the fuck to do. I've nothing to fall back on. Though I've known life sans The Church since I grew up without it, that's hardly a mold I want to use. I tell others my mom did the best she can, but while she didn't beat me and abuse me like her own parents did, I took and still take my own brunt. Then I have the genes from my father that freak me the fuck out. I'm fighting my genes, people. It's hard to convince myself I don't have to be them, that I can choose their best traits. But even then, their best traits simply aren't mine. I'm a fighter, but I can only do so much.

I do know I bust my ass for them as best I can, and I'm going to school for them as much as I am for me. But my best and your best aren't necessarily the same.

I want to be an example to my daughter--my sons too, but mostly my daughter.

I also know that if I thought this would be the worst thing for them, I wouldn't do it. But I also know that if I didn't do it, my anger would simply grow and my depression and sense of self-worth worsen. I'd be my mom. I can't fucking have that. My kids don't deserve that.

And now that I think of it, perhaps I AM doing what my mom did to us: making life too goddamn easy. They need to suck it up sometimes.

So, I'm going. I just hope it works out in the end. This is one area where my ten years of church still very much has a hold on me, and it pisses me off. So much.

Of music and choirs

2010-12-05T17:58:00.000-08:00

(I hope this all makes sense)

Sometimes I have a thought that begins with "If I went to church, I'd..."

And then it stops. Because I wouldn't.

These thoughts happen when I think of the one church I've been to that I liked. You know, comparatively. It happens when I watch Christmas shows, like this morning with Home Alone, that features statuesque Catholic churches, featuring soft but powerful choirs, It happens when I hear "O Little Town of Bethlehem" sung in just the right way (the LDS Hymns way, btw)

It happens sometimes, but in the end, the thought comes to a halt. Because I wouldn't. I don't. I can't.

Sometimes I think about what I'd do if I believed, but I don't believe enough. Or at all. And sometimes I wish I did, but even if I did I'm not sure the world would have a place for me. Perhaps a group of people would be my support but outside I'd still be shunned.

It happens to a lot of people. But the fear of being shunned is not why I don't nurture what sliver of belief may be inside me. I've spent my entire life being different in some way, of not belonging. If I try to belong it is short-lived. In the end, that is not who I want to be. Catch-22, I suppose.

I know it was Home Alone but the choir was still amazing. I still love Christmas songs. I know and don't disrespect those who choose to use Christmas to celebrate the birth of Jesus--I know that is part of it. I love some of those songs, if not for nostalgia than for the hope of what inherent potential is present in beginnings.

Just yesterday a friend of mine on FB asked for some Christmas song recommendations, and one of my absolute favorites is InsideOut's "Silent Night" (you can find it on iTunes by searching for "InsideOut Reverence")--but it isn't just that song. The entire "Reverence" album, with one or two exceptions, is amazing. One of those songs, "Heaven's Gift (Silence)," is the song Eric and I listened to on the way to the temple to be married--even though now listening to it reminds me it is of being unworthy, I don't know. I can't let it go. It's the music. And I'm a lyrics girl.

Then there is, of course, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Some love the Southern Baptist choirs--I prefer something quiet. At least I do today. Tomorrow may be different. Today I need to be carried away so my thoughts become nothing.

So seeing, hearing that absolutely stunning choir in that stunning church--I wanted to be there. I wanted that hope, even if being there didn't make that hope any more able to convert to reality. Hope is powerful. It saves lives.

The fact that there are churches out there, open for anyone who feels a need--whatever need--to come meditate, is something to admire, to aspire to. I've felt this need often but either cannot or do not seek it actively.

Sometimes I just want to feel small, a humbling that transcends unworthiness--a feeling I have felt far too often lately (and not in a spiritual sense, to any faithful lurkers).

Sometimes I want to know I'm ultimately not alone, that I'm in someone else's hands. Being a grown up is so much better to me than being a child, but sometimes I want to be a child. Sometimes the burden is too much. Sometimes I just need to feel as if someone is there, wherever. Even if just for the briefest moment before I realize that there's probably not. Even an abandonment of any knowledge--just to have somewhere to rest my burden. I have none here. I am unable to unburden myself anymore. I am trapped.

I'm not in someone else's hands. I am not a child. This is not a bad thing--I've had great need to grow up for such a long time. To find my own strength. I've spent my entire life relying on the strength of others. But perhaps that's not good, either. And, upon thought, perhaps I'm too strong for myself in some ways. After all, I don't talk. But I'll be there for anyone else because I do feel unworthy to ask for anyone else's touch, for their ear.

So I watched that scene, a place where few people went to find mercy and forgiveness, and wanted to be there. Makes me very much want to visit our local parish, even though I know enough about the Catholic church, about most of religion in general, to vote with my feet. But there are times we love and grant chances even when we shouldn't. And I don't know why.

Still. Maybe it's the history. Maybe it's the greatness. The idealism of God. The suspension of knowledge. If nothing else, I've learned that knowledge, while powerful, is heavy. And I'm as of yet not quite strong enough.

Maybe it was just the idea of empty silence where nobody bothers me.

And, maybe, when one suspends knowledge, beauty can be magnified. It's not required, but it helps. I see too much ugliness these days. I could use a little beauty.

I don't quite know how to wrap my head around that.

Contacting Spirits

2010-12-04T14:26:00.000-08:00

When I was in the third grade, a kid brought his Oujia board to school. A few of us joined him in a hidden corner during recess. It was cool. And creepy.

When I had a chance to ask it a question, I asked "Will I ever be rich?"

"No."

Fucker.

My dad lost it when I told him about it later that night. He didn't think much of me conversing with the devil. I really, really scared him.

Anyway, I pretty much stayed away from that stuff afterward. During our 6th grade week-long field trip the girls in my cabin (not including one unbelievably religious girl) played a game of "light as a feather." I didn't play because they weren't really my friends and the game freaked me out a little bit. Maybe in part because the way my dad reacted a few years before, and part because I was afraid it would work. I still can't bring myself to do that "Bloody Mary" thing (is that right? something like that). I should probably do it just to get it out of my system, prove to myself it's not for real. I'm pretty superstitious, though. I like believing in the supernatural stuff. It's fun.

So.

Yesterday my kids pulled out our small card tables and covered them with their blankets. This morning I walk in to Jason's complaints that Abbie was contacting spirits (via her snow globe).

"They're not real!" he said.

"Leave her alone," we told him. "She's fine."

Wow.

That was weird. Still, I wondered how I'd react if I discovered one day she was doing some of dat witchcraft on a more...intense level. I had a friend who, prior to joining the church, engaged in that stuff and wouldn't speak of it. It freaked her out.

Yeah, I believe in that stuff. Not on a general level, but I tend to believe something odd is going on (but not without the realization that there is probably-maybe another explanation?)

So I dunno.

Still, my non-reaction was kinda cool. Yet, before, I would've felt compelled to respond (because y'know, as a god-fearing girl/parent i have to), but I never knew how to explain it without sounding like an idiot. Like I was encouraging my kids to believe in ridiculous things. Like they were going to look at me like this: O_o?

Projection, much?

Kind of like how I could never quite relate the story of Joseph Smith or Moroni or whatever. It just...sounded ridiculous.

Huh?

2010-12-02T19:47:00.000-08:00

You know those signs churches have outside their buildings? You know, the ones with the clever and not-so-clever sayings? I actually think some of them are cute. Not all, of course, but some. Perhaps even most. My favorite one ever is in the picture below. Haha.

The churches around here aren't nearly as fun, but oh well. They don't often preach about how I'm going to hell, so I'll take it.

Anyway. I saw one today on the way to pick up my son that was kinda weird.

No Christ, No Christmas
Know Christ, Know Christmas.

Ugh. Seriously, WTF.

That's not how it goes, anyway.

My sister

2010-12-02T10:48:00.000-08:00

I was 12 1/2 when she was born.

My mom and I came up with reasons they shouldn't have had kids. It wouldn't be fair to the child. It wouldn't be fair to my brother and I, even our stepsister. Little did I know but would discover later that my mom wanted to have a child with my stepdad.

Gawd.

My stepmom and I, only fifteen years apart, did not get along at first. At all. My mom did not and does not help.

But that's a post all of its own.

Let me just say that my stepmama and I are good friends now and she doesn't preach to me at all. My dad only ever mentions anything if I bring up religion first, like the time I told him we were leaving the church. Oh how happy he was, but he didn't quite get the whole story.

Dad--I don't like yours either.

I couldn't bring myself to say that, though. It's unnecessary given all the bullshit he has to deal with (his stepdaughter--let's just say "meth addict" "mother of three babies to three daddies" "abandoned her first two by moving halfway across the country to be with a new boyfriend" "had the good sense to at least adopt out her third" "smuggled in her unbelievably abusive last boyfriend from mexico so he could beat the shit out of her and her children again," etc. I have no clean or good words for her--to hell with compassion, it doesn't work on a sociopath). He and my stepmama have been granted full custody of their very small grandchildren. My dad is of not-so-good health and struggles with high anxiety (if not worse) as I do.

His religion gives him a semblance of comfort I will not take away, and as long as he's cool with me I'm cool with him--though omg "lisa, what is this 'agnostic' thing on your blog?" were uttered by them both.

sigh.

Do I digress? I digress.

They both had an incredibly difficult time with my conversion to the LDS church--pamphlets and shit everywhere. But they were still pretty quiet, except for the time my father finally couldn't take it anymore and hissed to me over the phone "Where are the golden plates now, Lisa?"

Eric told me later to ask him where the...shit what was it. Oh well. Point: there's suspicious crap everywhere. Ark of the Covenant? I dunno. I'm a bit rusty.

And the time I married Eric. My dad wanted to come to the temple, and as per the story, my stepmom convinced him not to. I'm both still saddened by this and a little angry, but I understand it too. Someday I hope to rectify this to the extent we are able.

But besides the religious decorations that litter their walls and the insistence on listening to Christian radio and all that stuff, they're quiet. I cringe but respect that--but it's hard to when my sister comes to me with these stories of what she has to deal with. She's finished, too. Eric says I need to watch my step. She's only 16. But I'm her sister. Where's the line? I only want to give her support. To tell her she's not laden with sin as they all tell her she is. To tell her nothing's wrong with her simply because prayer, much as she's tried, hasn't worked. To be the only one to tell her that it's okay that she either doesn't want to or can't or finds speaking in tongues creepy. That she's not a slut because she slept with someone. But she does need to come to her own conclusions. I just want to be the person in her life that tells her she's a good person and a human being, that it's okay. That I still love her. That she can still be successful. To trust herself. To give her information, too. And perhaps that's where I cross the line.

The thing is, the harder they push the further she goes away. She was always a great girl, "obedient" if you will. Respectful. I set the bar, and that sucks. Nobody should be put up to someone else's bar. But more and more she's rebelling. Inside she's one of the best people, but they're stifling that by insisting and pushing and shoving and figuring that berating her is the best way to go--and I get that some of it is just getting rid of their own sadness and fear and rage, but it's not working. They get counseling for the grandkids, but I don't know that they have it for themselves. For my sister. So it pisses me off, much as I can understand where they come from. But understanding isn't condoning.

It's hard because they're under so much stress. But she's suffering for it, too.

So it's so hard to not cross whatever line Eric sees. She's being taught the Earth is 6000 years old and she suspects it's bullshit. She wants to know about evolution but is largely kept from learning about it.

This, they believe, will save them all.

She's interested in biology, and she and I both wanted her to come to my class with me a few times and each time she wasn't able to make it. I've my suspicions. They'd rather send her to a 12 week photography program in Montana. They're scared, but at the expense of her future. She has a fire, but it's hardly kindled.

I remember rather well what it's like to be sixteen. It's only been slightly over a decade. I think that gives me somewhat an advantage in understanding where she's coming from, that some of the things she says will change given time. She's still rather immature, but that's the age. That's the inexperience. I don't fault her for it. I give her my opinion on occasion. I don't condone everything she says (some of the stuff she says scares the shit out of me--things not every teenage girl says), but I love her despite. And she knows that. She knows she can tell me anything. She knows I won't always agree. She knows I love her mom and our dad and that I try to help her see their side of things. She spends the weekend at our home when things are too much. She knows we'll come get her at the drop of a hat.

It's been difficult, though. I feel as if my closeness with her has come at a price of my closeness with her mom. It's a rough place to be when I want to give her a sanctuary both in my home and in my heart but am asked by our parents to be a good example and to steer her right. I don't know that they completely understand that their right isn't necessarily my right. I haven't yet suggested that her rather mild rebellion is symptomatic of the shit she has to endure at home, if not directly than as a consequence of her fucked up other half-sister and the addition of her dysfunctional but lovely niece and nephew in the home. She tries so hard.

I understand her parents' dilemma. I do. But she suffers too.

And if they're not careful, she won't fulfill her great potential. And all of this bullshit will happen again and again.

In fact, all my sis wants for Christmas are things that she can use after she moves out of the house (the minute she turns 18, she says). Today I looked around for things and found a great deal on a coffee maker--I texted her mama to make sure this wouldn't be a duplicate.

"What're you getting for [her]," I asked. "I don't want to duplicate."

"You mean you're getting her a muzzle too?"

I get it. The girl has a mouth on her, whatever. All normal kids do and I get her mom's exasperation. My daughter is pushing 8 and god help me when she turns 16. I try to tell my sister to be nice so coming over to my house won't be an ordeal, but she's tired and can't help but fight back. It's the only way she knows how to do it.

"Lol," I replied. "I just found this great deal on a coffee maker. Good?"

I wandered around Target for a good ten minutes longer before I decided to bail, figuring I could return it (or keep it for when ours dies--this one is programmable, after all!). At checkout, I receive a phone call. I checked the voice mail on my way to the car.

"Is this for your sister when she moves out, because really I'd rather get her a muzzle for her mouth."

It sounded beyond annoyed. Angry. Tired.

I don't know.

Being a 29 year old sister of a 16 year old girl with too much shit on her shoulders is a rough place to be in. Especially when I know her parents have exponentially too much shit on their own shoulders (i don't know how they do it--I'm not entirely convinced they are) and need support, too (my stepmom has called me multiple times in the past in tears). Especially when her mom and I have a really sketchy past--and I really would rather not go back there. I love them both. I don't judge either of them. I can only imagine what their lives must be like due to the severe selfishness her older, tweaked out daughter.

I want to be there for all of them, but I'm not sure anyone is there for my sister. Not enough.

More and more I feel as if I'm being kept from her, and that pisses me off and scares me. A lot.

I just don't know what to do.

'Tis the (#@! season

2010-12-01T11:43:00.000-08:00

Made me think of this Salon article. Salon! I dunno how I feel about the billboard because I really hate all these fucking billboards whatever religious/irreligious POV they preach, but good grief.

Call for Help: Creating Avid Readers

2010-11-30T10:03:00.000-08:00

My students are bright and inquisitive about the things that interest them. Many of them come from lower-income neighborhoods. They have been told that their voices and opinions don't always count because they don't have lots of money, or they don't speak English fluently. But they have a fire in them to be heard, and they have a curiosity about the world. They are just now learning how valued and important they are, that their choices matter, that they have a right to know things about their world. - Ms. B, Creating Avid Readers

You may remember some months ago when I plugged a project of a long-time friend of mine, a teacher down in Austin, Texas. After the success of said project (asking for help in acquiring a variety of fiction books to appeal to her specific student demographic), she's now hoping for help in acquiring a variety of non-fiction books for her students.

And today is her birthday.

Anyway, if you have the extra cash and willingness (these kids need support), please visit her project page at DonorsChoose.org and donate whatever you can to help. One dollar, five dollars--whatever you can. The site makes payment really easy, and you don't have to make an account to do so.

Speaking as the wife of a teacher and friend of many teachers, our educators severely lack support, financially and otherwise. Consider making this your monthly charitable action, part of your Christmas giving. I know many ask for money (god do I know--daily emails) and that it can be overwhelming especially during this time of year, but check it out. Discovering a love for books, discovering knowledge, can not only change the life of a child but of those who the child comes in contact with as they go through their lives. It's a well-known saying, but it doesn't mean it isn't true: knowledge is power.

Thanks so much <3

The Last Straw

2010-11-29T08:00:00.000-08:00

Again, I sat in the chapel with the rest of the youth group at the age of 13 or 14-years-old. This night would prove to be the end of the road for me.

My young, handsome, energetic pastor whom everyone loved stood at the front. My peers and I waited in the front few rows of the pews, listening as he explained that night's particular activity. It went like this:

Two of our peers had been pre-chosen to be the angels of death. How they were chosen still fascinates and confuses me--if I allow my thoughts to dwell here, it angers me. Much about this night does.

Two rooms awaited us in the back of the chapel where the pastors' offices were located. One, representative of Heaven. Another, representative of Hell.

The two angels of death would come and take us randomly (like death often does, natch) and escort us to our proper destination.

I wasn't taken right away, but eventually those spared the pains of this ridiculous exercise silently stood before me with outstretched hands. I stood and followed them.

Led into the back hallway, the "angels" opened a door and invited me inside. I entered and found it to be akin to a janitor's closet--for all I know that's exactly what it was. It was hot and stuffy, small, and pitch black.

I was in Hell.

The realization struck me hard. Was it random? I hardly believed that.

Did the angels not like me?

What the fuck did I do?

As a girl who had felt the cruel impact of not belonging with a group of people who, by all accounts, should've been nicer, this was the harsh rub of salt to the wound.

I still don't know why I was placed here, or if it was intentional. I seem to remember another boy in the closet with me as I unsuccessfully fought like hell to hold back my tears and the embarrassment of muffled sobs that accompanied them. This wasn't about being put in hell so much, but of a complete and direct rejection of me as a person. That they thought so little of me as to find no problem damning me.

(It strikes me as something my 16-year-old sister probably feels often now, especially when her pastor unnecessarily took her aside to inform her she had kept her under the baptismal water just a little bit longer as to wash away her "extra sin" and continually berate her for things most teenagers do--effectively pushing her further away)

I don't remember anyone else joining us in Hell except for the one other person, and unfortunately even he remains nameless and faceless in my memory. Few, if any, words were exchanged between us.

Eventually the closet door opened and the two of us were invited to leave Hell. The object lesson was over. "Come to Heaven," they said.

The light in Heaven blinded our eyes as they had since adjusted to the darkness that was Hell. The room per my memory was as large as it was bright, probably a conference room. And rather empty. And a hell (ha!) of a lot more temperate.

"Have some cookies," they said. I wordlessly took one, hoping nobody would say anything to me. Hoping that the redness and puffiness that surely had to betray my resolve to be steeled and resolute was absent. Anger filled me here as much as did the stabbing pain of rejection. I also found the odd logic of the entire event somewhat amusing--did this mean we'd have a chance to enter heaven after a sufficient time in Hell? Of course it didn't. Not per their official doctrine.

Thankfully everyone left me alone. I didn't belong here. They knew it, I knew it. My years of attending had proven that much. And after this shit I was finished subjecting myself to the abuse.

But perhaps I was too hasty. I was eventually invited into Heaven, and there were cookies.

Wasn't that enough?

Salvation NOW!

2010-11-28T08:35:00.000-08:00

I was eleven years old, brand new in the youth group program of my father's Assembly of God church. Our pastor, different from the previous one I've described, took us to the local Catholic cemetery, easily the oldest cemetery in our small town, if not in the vicinity. Full of history. I always wondered, if I was still enough, if I could feel the ghosts of those who had been lain to rest.

But there would be no such reverence this afternoon.

I stood there with my peers on the grass, listening to our pastor's strong and passionate admonishments that went something like this:

"I can't guarantee you that you'll wake up tomorrow. You can't guarantee me that the sun will rise in the morning, that the Earth will still be here. There is no guarantee. You don't know when you will die. If you don't accept Christ now, you will end up in hellfire--period. You cannot wait until the last minute because you may not know when the last minute is. You may not wake up tomorrow. You must accept Christ. Now."

Fear, as you may have noticed by now, is the primary tool in the Assembly of God arsenal. The use of fear is hardly exclusive to Mormonism, but it is certainly a different brand. This is a more violent, in-your-face fear mongering. It is without apology. It is hardly denied even by those who commit it. It is born of fear and perpetuated out of fear. It is a snake that you will pick up to let it bite you because you are unworthy and deserve ever more pain for Christ. You will ask to be bitten and stomped and crucified for and out of your own righteous guilt that, if sincere, will never be satiated.

This particular graveside example is relatively mild, but it remains in my memory.

Eleven-years-old and being told to accept Christ or be consigned to Satan's terrifying grasp to endure an eternity of fire, torture, and misery.

Because I was a sinner.

No matter how hard I tried, how good I was in my heart and in action, I was a sinner.

An eleven. year. old. sinner.

Who needed to be saved.

Have I ever explained to anyone just how hard I tried throughout my lifetime to be good? I haven't because I can't put it into satisfactory words. And it wouldn't matter, because it wasn't ever enough. It just didn't fucking matter because in the end someone would come up to me, for reals, to tell me nothing I ever did would ever be enough. It didn't matter what church I belonged to--Protestant, LDS, didn't matter. The Mormons straight up tell you to aim for perfection even though you'll never get there. To even suggest such a thing in my father's church could be considered blasphemy. Only Christ was and is ever perfect.

Assembly of God is bloody. But it's supposed to be. Therein is humility.

I would never be enough.

Praise Jesus.

I wasn't sure at this moment of my first real call to salvation if I'd been saved. I hadn't said "the prayer" yet--the one where you verbally "accept" Christ as your savior and call yourself an unworthy insect under his feet. But I believed in him. I accepted the story. I wasn't fighting it.

Apparently that wasn't enough.

Some people would tell me that's the point.

I don't know. It's all bullshit. A part of me knew it, I'm certain, beginning that very day.

Memories: Assembly of God

2010-11-27T08:00:00.000-08:00

The following describes one of three major events that led to my rejection of organized religion the minute I hit high school. Other factors were involved, but this--yeah.

I was in junior high, seventh or eighth grade, and sitting in the chapel of my father's Assembly of God church for youth group. Other kids surrounded me, kids I neither knew nor liked and who neither knew nor cared for me. But I was there because it was the week I was staying with my dad and, for some reason, I had agreed to this shit.

My youth group pastor was a young, energetic man, probably in his mid-twenties. His wife was super nice, a woman with big hair, a lot of makeup, and a Louisiana accent I adored. He stood at the front of the chapel and asked us all a question.

"If God offered to tell you where you'd end up after death--Heaven or Hell--would you want to know? Raise your hand."

Of course we all raised our hands.

"If God told you you were going to Hell, would you try your best to go to Heaven instead?"

Uhm, yeah I would. Apparently--and not surprisingly--everyone else felt the same way.

"You can't do that!" he said. "God told you you're going to hell, you're going to hell. There is nothing you can do. Now, who would still try to get into heaven anyways?"

What the fuck is this?! I wondered.

Yet my peers and I insisted, all raising our hands.

Again, he told us we were stupid for even trying because God said it wouldn't happen. Who are we to challenge God?!

So again he asked. And again we all raised our hands except for one kid. He was done with this shit. If he was going to hell, he was going to hell. Fuck it. I couldn't help but admire him for this and also couldn't help but think that it would make life a bit nicer if I could just enjoy it without worrying about the dangling, annoying carrot that was heaven.

Alas, he continued.

"What if God told you you were going to heaven?"

Sigh.

Agnostic Christmas

2010-11-26T08:55:00.000-08:00

Before we officially-unofficially left the church, there was one thing I had grown to agree with the Jehovah's Witnesses on. To quote a friend of Eric's,

"If you teach your children about Santa and they find out that's a lie, then how can you trust that they'll believe you about God?"

I always thought he had a point, both before and after he said it. It had been on my mind. It made sense. But I couldn't teach my kids that Santa wasn't real--could you imagine? I wasn't worried about them but about them spouting off to their friends. Never mind the reactions from friends and family whom I divulged my hesitancies to.

God forbid I didn't teach my kids about Santa!

How dare I even suggest taking such a fundamental childhood experience away!

All of these reactions from fellow Christians.

I'm sure many of you fall or fell into this category and I don't want to judge you. I'm not. It just strikes me as a little odd. Especially when it comes from the camp of "Keep Christ in Christmas." Especially when it comes from a people who do understand the history of where Christmas comes from--why it's not held on or near Christ's supposed birthday. A people who get all up in arms over "Happy Holidays" when it's not necessarily a Christian time of year.

Knock, knock. Hello?

I didn't get it, but I couldn't bring myself to actively teach my kids about Santa, and Eric was on board with me. Our kids learned about Santa through other family and television shows, society at large. So you can imagine I got questions, at least from my oldest (who is rather observant), at a young age.

"Is Santa real?" she'd ask.

"What do you think?"

But now that we're not believers, it doesn't bother me as much. There's still a part of me that doesn't enjoy lying to my kids. It's interesting how things change once you have your own sometimes, in various ways. I was taught about Santa, learned all on my own that he was a hoax. It didn't bother me at all--in fact, probably like many of you, I reveled in knowing when my siblings did not. I didn't make the connection between Santa and God. We tend to think kids have a greater propensity for such conclusions than they do, much like we worry about them seeing or hearing things on a movie that, up to a certain age, goes right over their heads.

So why am I having a hard time with my own kids, especially now? Abbie is so close to figuring it out, she's such a smart kid. I want so badly to tell her, but I'm encouraging her to rely on her own logic. So far she's finding ways for Santa to be possible, but it won't be much longer. I look forward to that day, really, just to congratulate her and include her in the behind-the-scenes action. But perhaps I won't make it and I'll be the one to tell her. I don't know. I hope for the former so, so much.

Perhaps Santa will be a good lesson they can remember years from now if they ever decide to be interested in the church.

If something doesn't seem quite right and you have to reach and stretch to make it rational and probable, something ain't right.

Red is bad, esp on Christ

2010-11-24T19:00:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time some years ago, probably nine or so, I sat in my institute class like a good girl and listened to the lesson. Our instructor presented to us the picture of Christ at the door.

"What sorts of symbolic things do you see here?"

"There's no doorknob!" one particularly astute student said as if he, or anyone else in the room, had never seen the fucking picture before let alone was ever involved in a discussion about it. A million times over.

"That's right, what do you think that means?"

Blahblahblah. I raised my hand. "Christ is wearing red, symbolic of power."

His face sobered. "Now let's be careful with that, Lisa."

Just in time for Christmas.

2010-11-23T16:41:00.000-08:00

I'm cat sitting for my MIL this week and decided during my last check-in with him to peruse through their deseret catalog for giggles. Ugh.

Didja know how AWESOME Tom Monson is? If not, someone wrote all about it. Snore. These biographies are probably the worst ever. Tell me Tommy smoked a joint at the age of 16 and I might reconsider my stance, though chances are he told on some kid for smoking and called him to repentance or some bullshit like that. SEW PURE AND RITECHOUS he was made bishop at 22!

Did you know that? because I think everyone on the fucking planet knows that by now. Maybe Tom hasn't had enough praise for such an amazing accomplishment. Let's all pat him on the head until he feels sufficiently acknowledged.

Not fair? Maybe. I just don't understand why this is such a big thing. Who in their right mind wants to be bishop at 22? Y'all, I don't know of many men that age in the church who've finished school at this point.

But what is school, yeah?

Then there's a book out there called "The Time Starved Family"

As a mother of seven children, DeAnne Flynn has experienced firsthand the challenge of staying balanced in a world where jam-packed calendars have taken a huge toll on family time. The sixteen practical ideas in this book will help families break out of the hectic, overscheduled, underconnected way of life that has become the norm for both parents and children. Her sensible and realistic approach will help relieve anxiety, encourage self-reliance in kids, and restore order and simplicity to daily family life. Isn’t it time to refocus your energy on the best choices for your family?

DeAnne, if I may call you that, I could've written a pass-along card on this shizz. Sixteen practical ideas to save time and use what you have more wisely? I have just one:

Get yo ass out the church.

THEY HAVE MISSIONARY ACTION FIGURES.

How would you play with your figure set? Perhaps the missionaries, starved of human affection...well. When there's no Barbie, Ken will do. I've yet to find a man who doesn't look super hot in a suit.

Unfortunately, I can't find any sister missionary action figures. Lame.

Then there's this beauty: Change Your Questions, Change Your Life

Yeah, pretty much. Although I'd change this title to "Ask some questions, change your life." Change Your Questions sounds pretty tricksy to me, like another strategy missionaries would use.

Wait. They already do.

Investigator: "I asked God if the Book of ~~Mammon~~ Mormon was true, but I didn't get an answer."

Missionary: "Did you ask right?"

Investigator: "Huh?"

But seriously, some examples from the book:

What is on my premortal list of “Things to Do While on Earth?” (Uhm...?)
What is the one question I most need to have answered from the scriptures today? (Horses in ancient America, fer realz?)
How can I be more of my true self at the end of this experience? (GTFO, that's how)
Whose agenda is this supporting? (duh, the liberal/gay agenda)

The Messiah Series.

I actually like these sorts of books. I'm interested in scholarly insights into the life of Christ, and these books look respectable and "thorough" enough for LDS standards (I did enjoy Jesus the Christ--one of few times I didn't feel spoken down to)--but then I saw the author. Bruce R. McConkie.

LDS interpretations of Christ's life are bad enough, but dudes.

Then there are all these books and whatnot about how awesome women are--I'll say it again: If you find yourselves having to convince the women of your church that they are teh awesome, something is wrong.

And to end along the same fucked up vein as my last point: I want to cry when I see a copy of "Emma Smith: My Story"

Because it's not her story. It's just not.

Default Worship

2010-11-22T19:52:00.000-08:00

A common meme I've heard often lately is that those who do not believe in god must worship something. You know, stuff like mammon, money, cars, status, etc. Satan.

But srsly, I must be doing something wrong because I'm at a loss. I need something to worship, y'all.

Well. Maybe lately it's Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and Natalie Dormer.

Jesus. I'm gonna be so sad when Anne is beheaded. Henry was cuter when he was all punch-drunk over Anne (I know! I should be PISSED for Catherine, what an amazing lady and what a fucker Henry was--but he still loved her. You could tell. In his weird, narcissistic kingly way), and I can't...ugh. Anyways. Maybe it's more Anne. I wanted to kill Henry when--

Well. Watch the show. And don't judge! My love for the couple is irrational and goes completely against my values--

--Wait. Do I have values anymore?

Anyway, what has filled your void as far as worshiping goes? Are you power-hungry? Bow to the coffee gods? Football? I think my husband worships his fish. Damn fish. Should've known better than to get that initial "family" tank. Family tank, indeed!

What else is there. Oh who the fuck knows. Apparently humans just worship. They just do.

Cookies and Dinners

2010-11-21T11:17:00.000-08:00

I've always felt like I was a square peg forcing itself into a round hole. But to be fair, I've felt this way both in and out of the church. Very much so within, though. And since this blog deals mostly with religion:

The other day, Kiley over at We Were Going to Be Queens sought for some help regarding how to comfort suffering friends from a distance since she no longer found "I'm praying for you" to be neither honest nor sufficient.

Totally get it. Been on my mind as well.

One of my suggestions? Give her a gift certificate for a restaurant so they don't have to worry about dinner one night.

Kiley was really gracious, noting that she felt it was a good idea but also reminded me how Mormony this sounded. Dinners solve everything! So I laughed with both embarrassment and frustration that this had stayed with me--also that I still feel it's a good idea when necessary. It is nice to not have to worry about that when times are tough.

But gawwwwwwwwwd.

And you know, they are nice. I guess. I always hated bringing them because what if the receiver doesn't like what I make? And I always hated receiving them because what if I hate it? I'm a terrible actress and hardly a gracious one, wearing damn near everything on my sleeve. And let's not forget the annoyances of getting your tupperware back or returning them. So I never asked and never received unless I had just given birth and they were just given.

That was kind of our mode d'emploi with anything regarding our "need" for service. We felt we needed to balance out the people who took full advantage--you know "Hi, I know it's 8 a.m. on a Saturday and it's the only day of the week you have to get yr shit done around the house and the only time your family will see you but we are moving today and need some help could you help?"

And then, then! to discover that the moving family hadn't even bothered to fucking pack.

No, we could handle our own. We had family. We were able.

Dinners and everything just seemed like so much work. That said, we had more than one recipe added to our list after a few dinners were brought over. Sweet and sour chicken is among my favorites. The others are unavailable to us now that Eric has accepted his lactose intolerance, but still. And offering dinners yet remains a go to fantasy idea when I don't know what else to do because anything more personal is just too scary.

Then there are the cookies.

Cookies are the ever universal ice-breaker and offering of friendship. I did this, you did this, we all did this. If you can't get your foot in the door without cookies, you sure as hell should be able to with them. And they're also the great intercessory offering when you don't really want to interact with the person. Just drop 'em off at the door when you know they're not home or pretend you have to split for whatever reason.

I don't like giving gifts when the other person is there to receive. Maybe it is because I am so insecure or so ungraceful myself when I receive--I don't know how to read reactions, especially within the church where cookies are just the norm and fake smiles and thank-yous run rampant. When I give things, I generally do so rather genuinely and if the other person is there, I often allow my insecurity to find signs of annoyance or ungratefulness in the recipient even if such signs weren't there.

"Thank you so much!" could easily, by virtue of tone alone, be interpreted as "Oh...a fruitcake. How, uhm, nice. I'll put it with the others."

Also, the more ornate the packaging the better. A paper plate wrapped in plastic wrap is acceptable in a moment of desperation, but colorful cellophane is better. Tupperware is good, but a pretty basket with a card is better.

After I had Joseph, I had decided to learn to bake because it was the one thing I liked to do that other women in the church liked to do. And I knew I could be good at it. I was. I am.

Bake cookies.

But it's not as if many people in my ward knew about it--family did. Eric's co-workers certainly did, but ward members? Naw. I've never been all that proactive about these things. I made a batch for a missionary dinner, some for a really cool family who actually befriended us, but it didn't work for me, not in the way I'd hoped. I was putting a little part of me out there and got nothing in return. And I think that was the problem: I gave in the hopes of receiving--and isn't that the idea of cookies in the church?

Years before I did make snickerdoodles for my non-member neighbors who, i'll have you know, did not also receive some lame pamphlet or video or card or any bullshit like that. Not my style. Because nothing says "Hi I'm a nice person let's be friendly neighbors" than "Have some conditional friendship cookies because i'm a mormon and therefore nice YOU SHOULD BE MORMON (would you like to meet with the mishies?)"

Anyway. I baked cookies.

And I still want to give them out, but the desire is going away. Mostly because I'm lazy and a horrific procrastinator--but also because it and the dinner thing makes me feel all too Mormon. Because I feel desperate when I do. Like me please please! See? I'm just like you, I make cookies! And also because I hate cellophane (it's pretty and crinkly but terrible for the environment) and the feeling that I'm just not creative or feminine enough to make a proper plating of holiday cookies--how will my presentation be judged? I'm still learning the balance between the redneck simplicity of my youth with the self-aggrandizing basket of "goodies" for whoever, and how either makes me feel as a person.

I agree with Kiley in that these aren't necessarily bad things--cookies and dinner--but motherfuck. They make me feel dirty.

20 Signs We Were Never Gonna Make It

2010-11-20T14:30:00.000-08:00

1) We were always on time. Repeat: always on time.

2) Eric was never interested in hunting, fishing, et. al.

3) Eric was never interested in, as TAMN so aptly describes, law/business/dental/medical school. Teaching, psssh. That's for the weird girls we put up with who, y'know, wanna work instead of fulfill their divine roll.

4) Neither one of us enjoyed "every member a missionary" and always, always cringed at those goddamn push--er, pass-along cards.

5) I knew better than to show my parents "Together Forever" like my missionaries wanted me to. Also knew they were full of shit when they told me that the BoM was true because a prophecy made in 1 Nephi was fulfilled in 3 Nephi. In short, I did this thing called thinking. Just not enough of it, apparently.

6) One word: Questions

7) We were both pretty aware when we sounded ridiculous and moreso aware that, uhm, shouldn't that tell us something?

8) I always enjoyed more the company of members with a sketchy past than those who were always CTRing.

9) Two words: Loud laughter. In both sacred and sacred-ish places. I'll have to post on that later.

10) I had to reach deep down to ever say "I know the church is 'true'"--if I ever did at all. Same goes for Eric.

11) Eric regretfully realized on his mission that the church is more about numbers than it is about saving souls.

12) When we first began dating, a mere two months after he returned home, he was totally against us reading the scriptures together due to the cheese factor.

13) I hated Sundays.

14) Never really believed the Book of Mormon peoples to be real, historical people. Not like I believed the Biblical characters to be real, historical people. I wonder if many converts do.

15) We're not into campy shit. The Church lurves its campy shit. (this doesn't mean we don't still like some of the church's productions--"Mahana you ugly" is sometimes thrown around. That movie was so terrible.) Other examples: road shows, family Christmas programs, etc. Eric says this should also include stuff done at camp.

16) While one could attribute this to mere ignorance of propriety, I said no (gasp!) the first time I was ever asked, as Primary Secretary, to substitute for a Sunday School class. In my defense, it made no sense to ask me to teach kids anything as green as I was and it was about as last-minute as one could get. I had to say no a few times and couldn't figure out why the woman asking was so weird and insistent about it.

17) When Eric and I almost fucked up (literally! ha!) the Christmas before we were married, we weren't so worried about the "sin" but having to tell people we did it and having the news spread to family and friends and looking bad. It wasn't about offending God. It was about the lunacy of having to confess shit to people who shouldn't be any part of it.

18) Didn't appreciate being treated and spoken to like a child during the first year of my membership and while seriously investigating. Why I put up with it at all is beyond me.

19) I always felt stupid relating to others the story of Joseph Smith and always faltered at it. The story itself seemed stupid.

20) Eric and I both had zero interest in finding and fellowshipping inactives. Eric often came home after home teaching to tell me he informed his families exactly what they needed to do to get the Church off their backs as requested. I preferred to not bug those who obviously wanted to be left alone. It was a matter of respect for the both of us.

There are more I'm sure. What're yours?

Who's a Christian?

2010-11-19T10:08:00.000-08:00

Comments regarding my last post unwittingly makes me think about what makes a "real" Christian and if it's really up to us to decide who is one and who is not one.

I've been watching/catching up with "The Tudors" lately (highly recommended) and taking issue with characters in the show who claim to know God's will. How can they decide, and how can we say they are wrong if we, too, claim to have our own version (as believers or agnostics)?

Regarding an alleged (by the show) Papal-authorized plot to kill Anne Boleyn, from a representative of the Pope to the assassin: "Angels will praise you as you enter heaven if you kill this whore."

Christian? They would certainly think so. And who would we be to question that in a religiously motivated sense--they were protecting the Church and its people. This powerful woman to-be threatened the church. Others rebelled, sure, but Henry's royal move would be too influential, too revolutionary, take too many from the flock. To kill Anne would be no different than God telling Nephi to kill Laban because "it's best that one dies to spare many." Every denomination has its own rationalizations that it would make.

See also: Abraham and Isaac.

I'm loathe to judge who is and who is not Christian because it really does depend on one's definition of "Christian" and I think it's a bit more complex than "A follower of Jesus" let alone "duh his name is included in the name of our church" or even "duh we include the Bible in our canon."

I know few people I'd consider "Christian" but again it's subjective to what I consider Christian. I like quiet people who live their faith and don't shove it in my face and who follow the more difficult examples of Christ as written in the Bible. Then again, some very close people to me to not do this, and I would never take their self-description of "Christian" away from them.

That said, their actions bug the shit out of me and I'm not entirely comfortable with their method of worship and active fear-mongering, all in the name of saving the otherwise damned. All in the name of being Christian.

But that's how they interpret the Bible. This is how they define "Christian."

The Mormons: genuinely nice people but incredibly, as Cognitive Dissenter put it, ethnocentric. Some of you will O_o at our use of the word, but it really is descriptive enough.

Unlike mainstream Christianity which effectively separates spirituality and reality of how one conducts their behavior and lives, Mormons are more active, assuring themselves and others that they are followers of Christ--faith, yes, but works are required to prove that faith.

It doesn't necessarily work, but this is how they interpret scripture. This is how they define (true) "Christian."

Back in the days when King Henry VIII broke off with the Catholic church the Catholics decided who was Christian and who was not. Even Henry did--and both by the sword. And what authority did they have? The authority they and tradition gave them, an authority they abused to absurd lengths and continue to abuse. But they believed it with all their hearts. It was genuine. They had the truth, it was irrefutable (though one could also argue it was a matter of power making for quite the insatiable hunger)

This is how they interpreted the faith. This is how they defined "Christian."

Some churches accept gay parishioners and even openly gay clergy, saying God would accept, that it's totally okay while others demand it's an abomination--against God, nature, and scripture.

Others disagree on women in the church by way of participation and leadership. Women will be in submission, they will be silent. Until 30 or so years ago women were not allowed to give a public prayer in an LDS service. You think other churches even today don't disagree with that? Speak with a Jehovah's Witness. Find an especially conservative or orthodox church.

This is how they interpret scripture. This is how they define "Christian."

There are various versions of the Bible floating around--even the Book of Mormon (see Reformed LDS). They act accordingly. This is what they believe. They is how they honestly define "Christian."

Are they any different than those cults with leaders who literally get their followers to live on communes and drink the kool-aid (that's not just a saying, in case you didn't know)? Any different than Westboro Baptist Church? Of course they're evil bastards, but they read scripture differently and interpret "Christian" another way.

I could go on, but in the end here is my point:

Anyone and everyone has and will say they have whatever authority to determine who is a "real" Christian and who is not and what actions prove such an affiliation. The interpretation is based on individual and collective experience and knowledge--even personality and culture. History.

Too many factors make deciding who is right and who is Christian far too beyond our reach, yet we insist upon it. We insist upon it, also, given only what we know: a book of scripture canonized by a circle of men with their own perceptions and motivations, including political ones. We insist upon it even though what we have is minimal. We insist upon it even though much of what is in the Bible is hearsay. We act as mind-readers. We accept and reject--all of us. We know nothing except what we have, and I don't think this is wrong because we cannot help what we do not know (to a certain degree) by way of Biblical history--we can only act on what we know, but we cannot act as if it is all we need to know. We should at least qualify it, which some do! but not nearly enough.

I just read a quote on my reader that resonated with me with regard to this post. The speaker is Jack Pryor (random dude on FB quoted by my feed):

Taking a set of facts and forming an opinion is alright; taking a set of opinions and forming a fact is dishonest...

Who is and who is not Christian strikes me as more opinion than fact. Is it analogous to who is a "Real" American and who is not? It gets dicey because it becomes and is a matter of condemning or condoning ones morality, and being a good person shouldn't be and isn't an exclusive trait of Christianity.

Thoughts?

Meaningless LDS Memes: Are you Christian?

2010-11-18T10:45:00.000-08:00

Okay. I'm on a rampage, apparently. Just discovered that my old Institute "support specialist" (ie: secretary) has a profile on Mormon.org. The link to it is unnecessary to this post, just know that one answer provided inspiration.

Question: "Are Mormons Christian?"

Member: "Of course we are! Duh, it says Church of JESUS CHRIST of Latter-day Saints on all our church buildings."

While not perfect, this answer strikes me as analogous to "I'm not racist, I have a black friend."

That answer doesn't mean anything.

But, you know, whatever.

dum dum dum dum dum

2010-11-17T11:13:00.000-08:00

HONEST. TO. GOD.

I just read this on a friend's facebook wall and it reminded me of so many other encounters I've had with friends of my own. Names are withheld. I imagine many of you will have your own stories to share and so this will hardly be unfamiliar.

I don't know you. My son-in-laws are wonderful parents and I love them very much! They were not given the blessing of being raised in the church, so they don't have the wonderful plan of salvation in their lives yet (i always loved this little addition of "yet"). Some learned and have accepted it , and some are still learning. I do want a forever family with ALL of my children and grandchildren, This only comes with the gospel, nothing else will get us there. I hope only you and [redacted] all the best. I love her and only want the things she desires the most for her. I am sorry [redacted] you felt I was attacking you, I sincerly [sic] am sorry if you felt this way. I know how hard it is to live in this crazy world and not have doubts. But I know I could not face it with out the joy of the gospel to make it to the end. Enduring to the end is so hard, we all struggle with trials. May you find peace, and I do love you even if you don't believe it. I know [redacted] loves you and she is a wise woman. So looked to the coming season of peace and joy and may God bless you!

It's an art form, I swear.

(H) provided me with much fodder, and until just recently I just had no idea her knee-jerk reactions and passive-aggression was so common in the church (duh, says Eric). She demonstrated as such in many emails, blog comments, and fb wall posts. An example can be found in her response to an early post I wrote back in 2008 on Liberal Mormon that Could entitled "This is what it's about"

So Lisa, I've been thinking of your blog, and a funny thing happened. I was talking to some friends and every single one of them plus some family members have had their signs stolen. Signs that are yes on prop 8. I'm wondering what your take is on these few thoughts and then I have to get my kids into bed. The people who are taking these signs are obviously not in support of prop 8. This is a coordinated effort on some level, all over town signs are being stolen from peoples yards. Here is my question. If people are willing to come onto my property and take something because they feel strongly about it, even though it seems harmless enough what about if prop 8 fails. What if a certain church still refuses to recognize or perform those unions. Do you honestly think that the church or congregation that attends would be left unscathed from grafitti [sic] or I don't know harrassment [sic]? This is only one of the ways this will affect church members and it's not pretty. If they are willing to steal, what else might they be willing to do with "the law on their side?" What is your opinion? I'm really curious! Even though I disagree, I really enjoy reading your thoughts when I can. Maybe you could use your obvious talent for writing in defence [sic] of the church or maybe sharing your testimony, I bet you would make grown men cry by using your talents in such a noble way!! You truly have a gift not just for writing but for organizing your thoughts. Bravo!!! Ohhh... are you going to stake conference? I'll look for you if you are!

Went from some weird, accusatory diversion with absolutely ZERO logic from the original post to a "hey, you are so awesome and so talented--could you maybe use that for the church? See you there!"

Hey, fuck you.

And uhm, how did she do that? Because I'm still kicking myself for placating her in a following post. WTF did I feel I had to prove? She's tricksy, she is. All of them are if you don't realize what's going on.

Later, and I'm not sure when and I don't want to peruse all my old posts for it (there are many) but at some point another girl in my stake popped in out of nowhere and said "Now we're not all that bad, are we?"

I mean, really? REALLY?

The nicety thing is a diversion. Someone calls them on something and suddenly it's "can't we all just get along?"

Then there are the people I'd known for years, people who were my closest friend at one point, people like Squeaky, who cover their ears and say they can't talk to me anymore. I'm not sure which one I prefer the most. I actually have some respect for (H) reading my stuff even after it was clear I wasn't going back. Then again, a few months ago she asked for my blog address she had since lost with an immediate follow up of "but I can't handle it." Kind of like how she defriended me and then later asked, after I informed her she could've just "hid" me (which is what i did to her b/c i did care about keeping up but my blood pressure couldn't handle constant exposure to her ignorant bullshit--she feels the same way about me), "hey i'd like to be fb friends again. could you remind me how to 'hide'?"

Uhm, no.

I haven't responded to her latest email following my son being in her nursery class. She lauded me for having such a great boy and how I "must be doing something right." I want so much to give her the benefit but after all our encounters it just screams bitch. Like she meant "for an apostate." Who knows. I think she's more concerned with me not liking her than anything else, and I'm tired of that game. I've told her a few times we're fine but she keeps it up and by doing so makes things not so fine. Lady, I got other people to baby. I'm not going to bother with a grown woman who insists that everyone on the fucking planet likes her so she can feel good and sew ritechous because everyone, even the sad apostates, like her. Her niceness isn't genuine though I'm sure she thinks it is. But it's not. It's another form of emotional and mental manipulation, and I'm done. I deal with enough of that from my own non-member family, thx, enough to merit therapy.

But I'm sure y'all have similar experiences of super nice "friends" but their words are laced with a tinge of...what is it.

Bitchiness. That's what.

It's a missionary response. See also Eliza Snitch's post, "quaint correspondence." Same shit.

I hate missionary responses. I've heard enough of them. I hated them as an investigator. I hated them as a member, especially when I was asked to perform for an investigator or "inactive" member. Jesus. I'm sure I did it a few times, but for the most part I just wanted to scream.

cough

2010-11-16T10:15:00.000-08:00

From "It Can't Happen to Me," James E. Faust, Liahona July 2002

History is full of examples of men who were gifted and able but who, in a moment of weakness, threw away their promising lives. King David is a tragic example. As a youth he was handsome, brave, and full of faith. He slew the frightening giant, Goliath. He became king. He had everything a man could desire. Yet when he saw Bathsheba, he wanted her even though she was another man’s wife. He had her husband, Uriah the Hittite, sent to the front of the hottest battle so that he would be killed. Uriah died in battle, and David married Bathsheba. As a consequence of this evil deed, David lost his spiritual inheritance. 3 For all the good David accomplished, much of it was negated because he allowed himself to succumb to a serious personal flaw.

Does this sound familiar to ANYONE ELSE?