Call for Help: Creating Avid Readers

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

dum dum dum dum dum

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.

Venting: Yes, No?

You know how you're not supposed to ever ever say anything bad or critical about another person, but especially your spouse?

You know how you're not?

GOD.

It's not anything really incredible or anything, just general bitching, but dammit I need to vent sometimes. He doesn't. He can take anything and just be. Me--and I'm not necessarily proud of it--I need to vent or I'll explode.

But we're supposed to have the perfect eternal temple weirdo marriage, right? Perrrrfect. Smiles and everything. Never fight. Never ever think about the D word (i'm not considering it, but seriously: in the beginning we were like "no, not in our vocab because if we ever put it there it'll happen"). We're not just good, we're great! ALL THE TIME!

Why is this still in my brain?! Is it because if something did happen it'd be like we failed not the church, but...friends, fellow apostates, fellow semi-to-non-believers?

Actions do not happen without having first a thought. So saith one of the 12 assholes. Er, apostles.

Don't ever think bad things because then the law says bad things will happen! Right?

So I'm scared, even though my issues are, in comparison, nothing. They're a step above "he never puts his towel in the hamper."

(Which, btw, he does. He just never replaces his. He prefers to steal mine and yucky it all up. It's annoying.)

But even if I wasn't scared (or even if I am) I don't have anyone to vent to. One friend would let me but I don't want her thinking anything bad about Eric (this is not a result of church brainwashing, but rather my stepmom who has beat it into my head that THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS because grown people cannot possibly understand that everyone has faults and we can't possibly just bitch and then forget. That maybe I need her ear sometimes).

Also, I'm not that kind of girl. The one who disrespects her guy. I'm just not, and I can't help but think that venting in this way is disrespectful. Is it?

This is how I grew up: My family shoots off rather horrible passive-aggressive insults toward one another ALL THE TIME. They try to hide the venom with chuckles, but it's too potent. This is not only evident on one side of my family, but both. It pisses me off. They're disrespectful. And horrifyingly irritating. Then they wonder why my brother or my sister can be just the same way. One of these days I might tell them why.

Regarding the in-laws, the LDS side? "Oh isn't it wonderful? She never speaks badly about her husband. Or anyone for that matter. What a great example!"

I've always hated it when people said that, but it became a goal for me. I don't know why. Many people who "never speak ill of anyone" are so transparent as to be funny. They compliment through gritted teeth. You can hear the growl.

That, or you can see the sadness and loneliness in their eyes. Something that belies their words.

But some people truly only seem to see the good. And isn't that good?

So I have that worry.

The other one is that I'm not looking to vilify my husband, just to vent. Some people, non-member friends, might take it too far. I'm not looking to bash all men. I'm not looking to make it personal, so much, either. I don't hate men. I don't think he's an idiot. And the way I live my life and perceive life is vastly different from so many people, and I do credit the church for that but not necessarily in a bad way. I like how I view things and how I raise my kids and how I try to treat my husband--I know how it might have been without the church.

But I need to vent, goddammit. I just don't want to get to the point where I'm defending him--which I will--over irrelevant things. I don't want anyone to think I don't love this man. Apparently that means I should only say good things?

Isn't that what I'd want?

I have friends I'm close with but not in that way, if that makes sense. I don't know how to explain one or two of my relationships. We're close, like sisters even, but we're not intimate. I can't imagine picking up the phone and saying "Gawd, guess what?" It's weird.

Other friends aren't married and I don't want to bother them. It shouldn't make it an issue, but I can't help but think it is. I have this horrid habit of putting myself into other people's shoes to a fault. I project. People have said to me "don't worry, it's a non-issue" but I know it would be for me, so I don't go there.

Which is stupid. Probably.

I just don't have people to vent to. About husbands, men, kids, life. Someone who won't judge me or anyone else. I could use a motherfucking hug. From a friend. The ones I have don't hug, think I don't like hugging, or are too far away to hug. Yay!

I don't even want to vent here. I figure nobody wants to hear about it. Truth, I am blessed. I feel dumb enough when I bitch about things that feel huge to me but are things I later learn are microscopic compared to others' experiences. Humbling, for sure.

I don't know what to do. I'm sad, angry, and I need a weekend off like I haven't needed in probably a year or two. I thought that shit was over.

It sucks.

Anyone else have or ever had this issue? I could use a little validation.

The Kinsey Scale

Ugh, so this is one of those trendy post/ex-mo/NOM subjects and I'm just not a trendy girl. To a fault. I've avoided talking about this simply because of that. But you know, Boyd Packer asked for it.

So what a better time, yeah?

For those not totally in the know:

The Heterosexual-Homosexual Rating Scale, sometimes referred to as the “Kinsey Scale,” was developed by Alfred Kinsey and his colleagues Wardell Pomeroy and Clyde Martin in 1948, in order to account for research findings that showed people did not fit into neat and exclusive heterosexual or homosexual categories.

The scale is as follows:

0- Exclusively heterosexual with no homosexual

1- Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual

2- Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual

3- Equally heterosexual and homosexual

4- Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual

5- Predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual

6- Exclusively homosexual

I'm not totally sure where to stick myself. I have had 2 girl crushes I can clearly recall of people I've known "IRL" and it began in high school. I remember as a younger kid (4th grade or so) going completely tomboy and the way others reacted to it. My grandmother asked me if I wanted to be a boy. Oprah had a show talking about how tomboys inevitably turn into lesbians. And the older I became, the more I heard about how homosexual people or actions are icky.

I took the Oprah show as a challenge. I would not--repeat not--fit into that mold, even though I didn't yet have any indication I felt that way.

I was a late bloomer. Not physically, but in the sense of having crushes. I didn't have my first real crush until I was in the 5th grade. His name was Ryan. I don't know if he felt the same way because I had a bit of a nerdy rep at that school and his friends gave him all sorts of shit about it, so nothing happened. I still remember being in the bus with my best friend Beth and telling her that I thought I liked someone. Once I wrote his name on a paper towel on our kitchen counter...with a sharpie. Oh god, I freaked out. I think I got it all out. Mom never noticed, at least.

There were other boys. Friends of my stepbrother, neighbor boys, etc. I was always oblivious to them. One in particular I really, really liked and didn't realize he dug me, too, until we had lost contact (why are kids so goddamn stupid?). His name was Phillip. He was an idiot, but I think he could've been good for me. In a bad sort of way.

I didn't have my first girl crush until, I think, my senior year of high school. I could be wrong, but she's the first I remember. Her name was Rose. I had a dream about her and that was the beginning of that. Caught me off guard but only in the sense that I didn't know her well or really think of her much. We rarely talked in class, but she was always super nice to me. I thought about her a lot after that. Not that she was the only one to be nice, but whatever. Something clicked. And, I liked how it made me feel. Not that it's any different, necessarily. A crush is a crush, but this was a she. You know? In that way it was different, and though I knew it probably wouldn't and couldn't happen, I liked thinking about it.

After high school I had my first real girl crush. Like, I wrote about her in my diary and wanted to kiss her and all of that stuff. I don't know what it was about her. She was beautiful and fun and I wanted to believe it could happen. I learned soon after that it couldn't, there was no way. I got over her pretty quickly after I learned that. There was always the residual stuff, but I kept everything respectful. If that couldn't happen, I could at least be her friend. And that worked out. Eventually the feelings were all gone. Besides, they had to be once I joined the church.

Mostly, though, I just like the idea. I write about it sometimes, think about it. Wish I could've explored it more. Like I mentioned earlier, my senior year high school boyfriend totally caught on. But I'm not all that hard to read, either. I dismissed him because I didn't want to admit to it, but I don't believe I was all that convincing. He left it alone either way.

I went back to boys after that though. One boy in particular sooooo caught my eye once I began college. We had the same English class, and my crush on him was a little odd. At least how I responded to his behavior toward me. He was gorgeous, though. He had these long legs I wanted wrapped around me. God, those legs. And then he referred to two years he spent in Texas. Opportunity! I spoke with him after class once where he confirmed he was Mormon and we began meeting at a pizza place semi-regularly where he acted as my unofficial missionary, answering my questions and whatnot. I know he had a crush on me, too, but for some reason I chose to ignore it. My friend tried to encourage me, but I was just ridiculously resistant. If I asked him to do something he didn't want to do, he'd do it for me. He also came to my workplace and invited me to do things all the time but I always said no. I think I was afraid of joining the church because of a boy. Also, I knew he always had the missionaries over and that it was probably a ruse as much as it was anything else. Maybe to get me to join so he could date me? Who knows. After I joined, he was always at my townhouse hanging out. Then I was stupid and began dating his roommate (who I had absolutely no feelings for) and he began dating a friend of mine and eventually moved to Utah to get into pre-med stuff.

The whole thing was weird.

And even though I had gone back to boys entirely after joining the church, I did tell a friend of mine that I had "struggled" with "same sex attraction" in a horrendous reply email to him where he came out to me. That was a big step. The first time I had put it into words. Of course, it wasn't something I was dealing with at the time. Ignore it and it'll go away, as Packer so nicely put it. But it doesn't. It comes back, even if not in the form of a crush. You notice someone, celebrity or whatever, and you think dammit. But it doesn't need to be that way.

Over the last few years I've begun to really acknowledge it to myself. It's been a bit of a weird road as far as that goes. I've told a few people, online, but nobody here. Even when I did online, it was always vague. Telling Eric will be a big step for me, putting it into verbal words like that.

Something I feel the need to say about some of the myths is this: it wasn't a choice, but it wasn't easy to admit it to myself, so I didn't act on it. Not to be righteous, necessarily, but because I was afraid. I didn't fully acknowledge it to myself, really, for quite some time. I also didn't admit to myself that I liked it until very recently. It is only a struggle because other people tell you it is. I didn't grow up in a time where people were coming out of the wood work to declare themselves as homosexual or bisexual of any degree.

Also, this doesn't mean I've been crushing on all or any of my girlfriends since. I have had many friends I've loved and admired dearly (perhaps too much) and have thought were gorgeous and fun and amazing but without having romantic feelings for them.

I know! IT IS POSSIBLE. People with homosexual tendencies of any degree are not out to fuck everyone of their own gender, no matter how pretty or handsome you are. Gasp!

So I'm not sure where I fall on the Kinsey Scale. My best guess is probably a 1-2, maybe 2.5. It's hard to say because I don't know what would've happened had I grown up in a more accepting household, environment, or society. I know it's not great now, but it's getting better despite Packer's and Mormon bullshit. Who knows what it would've been had my life turned out a bit differently--if I had gone to the university I had wanted so much to go to throughout high school (UC Santa Cruz)--or, really, any university. If I hadn't joined the church.

It's interesting to think about. And I have so much respect and admiration for those who choose to come out of the closet and respect themselves and have enough self-worth to follow their hearts and emotions to seek out things that aren't harmful.

That said, I don't totally regret joining the church. Like Chandelle said recently in her blog, and among other things, it brought me Eric. He's unbelievably good for me and he swears I'm just as good for him. We had crazy chemistry--I don't know how we waited for marriage. We almost didn't. I knew he was "the one" before I even met him. I saw his picture and something like lightning hit me. I want to tell him about all of this kinsey-crap, but can't help but wonder if he needs to know. Which is the fear talking. I don't know what I think he's gonna do or say, but if I think about who he is as a person it'll be okay. Like I've said before, he knows me better than anyone. This won't shock him.

Our Capacity for Truth

You'll notice that while I dig my soapbox, I've never gotten up on the "I have the truth and you don't and I love the truth and only seek out the truth" one. Mostly because while I believe strongly in certain things and will stand firm, I also feel strongly that I know nothing.

I also have certain things I very subtly and unconsciously desperately attempt to avoid.

Example: I don't talk about Christ much, and when I do, I talk about him in a way that doesn't recognize him as a divine character, fictional or real, a prophet, good man, whatever. I like the philosophies he embodies as a whatever, but that's where it ends. I don't necessarily equate the philosophy with the alleged philosopher.

I don't get this.

I'm afraid to make any certain conclusions about god, yes, but moreso about Christ. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I've never ever recognized him as God as my father does--even from childhood I never "got" the Trinity thing. And maybe it's that and also because I've been taught from day one that he's the dude that's gonna save me, and there's a part of me, that part of me that refuses to declare any truth, that wants to play on the safe side.

However, as a person who has "sought truth" both in joining and leaving the LDS church, I haven't looked for evidences against Christ. You won't see any evidence of me looking through the internet or books or speaking with many people about why they believe Christ is either not the son of god or simply never existed.

...except for once or twice regarding the Jewish perspective, but I assure you, my mind goes on half-power if it doesn't turn off completely. I was scared then because "it is only through Christ that you can be saved" but I don't know why I am scared now.

I think I'm reaching a point of comfort where I'll soon be able to walk into that scary closet and figure things out for myself. I just don't get what's so fucking scary about god or christ being fictional things. The Invention of Lying movie says it's a matter of comfort, and dammit. I want my blankie.

I am also still at the point where I know some incredibly smart people who have searched and scoured and still believe. There is that capacity--I just don't know if it's for truth or self-delusion/preservation because it is too scary to not believe.

I don't want to judge my critically thinking, compassionate believer friends because they believe. I don't ever want to. But I'm afraid I will if I find too much evidence to the contrary.

I don't entirely understand what it is to have strong friendships where there are strong disagreements with fundamental things. I've one friend right now who lives down the street. She is LDS but has a mouth on her. She's anti-social too. She's hilarious, and she's very compassionate about my disbelief and what it means to leave. But we both understand that we cannot discuss abortion or gay rights. Two very hot topics. This can be hard, because I feel strongly about both and feel largely silenced. She can go to church on a weekly basis or call up a friend and bitch.

But it's a maturity thing. I had to ask myself, and I'm sure she did too, if it was enough to not be friends. So far, it's not. I do hate those awkward moments, though.

I also know everyone has their limits. It may not be spiritual/religious limit for accepting or finding truth, but also political. I shut off my mind at times, and I've learned that's a HUGE red flag either that I am wrong, could be wrong, or simply don't understand enough. And I'm not always willing to check it out.

It may be an unwillingness to acknowledge a truth about a loved one. Eric has a family member who recently came out. He brings his boyfriend home and they play footsies in front of everyone but his grandmother insists on saying things like "aren't they nice friends?"

Or an unwillingness to admit a spouse is being unfaithful. Or abusive.

Or that a relationship/marriage might be in trouble.

That your son or daughter is dangerously into drugs or otherwise in trouble.

A refusal to fully admit to the truth of the entirety of your sexuality.

That a friend isn't really a good friend.

That something might piss you off but if it were the other way around, you'd totally act that way.

Etc.

It goes on and on, and so I feel really uncomfortable ever talking about my capacity for accepting truth when in reality, I'm just as bad--if not worse. Just in different areas.

My Kryptonite/Two Faced

Just read my last post. "Not a karaoke girl" would've been a FANTASTIC blog title. I'm tempted. I could at least write a poem with that as a title. Aside from this blog and the plethora of notes I write for my bio class, I've written nothing. And I need to. Badly.

The other thing that caught my attention from my last post was the sentiment that purposefully wearing capris around my SIL made me feel a bit slimy and two-faced. And far, far too Molly.

This blog makes me feel two-faced.

Yesterday I talked about how I passive-aggressively "came out" to my sister. My shorts may not be micro-minis, but they're certainly not garment-friendly. I thought about waiting until my daughter turned eight next spring, but fuck, you know? Tired of wearing capris on purpose around her, around people I'm not ready to tell.

You have to understand, there are and have been people in my life that I consider my kryptonite. Few people.

SIL is probably the biggest one. She has her own history, enough worldly experience. And it isn't within my rights to discuss the details, but suffice it to say she's been through her share. She understands what it's like to go against the grain of the church, and if I had to hazard a guess for her current state of super-mormon-girl, I'd say it was because her oldest is about to turn 12 and she doesn't want him to make the same mistakes she made. So she's, perhaps, overcompensating. We all do to some degree.

That makes it easier to understand, but harder to digest. Because she was so awesome before. And you'd think that fucking up would give you better eyes later. She knows that being crazy only pushes kids closer to the edge (her husband levels her out, but still), but I think she's just really scared.

So she and I were buddies. Like I said, couldn't rip us apart. When she and her now husband FINALLY went on their first date, he complained that all she did was talk about how she missed me.

I had a friend. I had a good, loyal friend who liked me for who I was. I just don't make friends that easily. Granted, I didn't have the same awareness of myself then that I have now (suppressed a few things) and MAYBE wouldn't have told her, but she was the best best friend I'd ever had. We were equals. She trusted me with her secrets. We watched out for each other. That all changed when she became engaged and I, also, to her brother (matching me and her brother was her idea. just happened to work)

When Eric and I first really began to stop going to church so much and really became angry, there were few people I could even fathom telling. His father. His brother (who was on a mission and quite spiritual). My ex-roomie. The girl who introduced me to the church. But most of all, my SIL.

Everyone knows now except for her. At least, we haven't told her yet. The shorts were probably a dead giveaway along with every other clue we've given, but whatever. She just had a baby and it takes her a while to get over the crazy emotional hormones that follow, so we'd wait. It was the humane thing to do. That's what we told ourselves.

It was also because every time I spent some time with her I was beside myself, wanting to go back because I wanted her back. Because every time it was just me and her, it seemed like things were getting back, if only a little bit, to normal.

She is my kryptonite.

She believes in the best of people. She works herself to death in church and as a parent and wife. She wants to be the best person she can be. Sometimes she'll betray herself and express how angry it made her to not even be addressed when the bishop asked her husband how attached he was to his goatee because he was to be YM's president or whatever. She liked that goatee, and they didn't even bother asking what she thought. Even if it didn't matter what she thought. Which it doesn't.

When Prop 8 came around, she told me she wasn't sure. She was leaning toward no. She prayed and prayed and when President Monson sent out that goddamn letter she figured that was the answer to her prayer. That it should be the answer to all of our prayers.

She'd bear her testimony about that experience to me but wouldn't even give me the opportunity to hear me out. I had one too, and it was just as valid as hers. But it wasn't the right answer. It made her visibly uncomfortable (she'd drop her eyes, frowning) to hear me explain why I went against teh prophet.

"You know people are leaving the church over this," she warned me one afternoon during a rare occasion of confronting an issue without my provocation.

"I know," I replied. We hadn't decided yet, but I knew it was rather possible, if not probable.

And I love her and I respect her and, most of all, I miss her. AND I want her to see that though I may not believe anymore, though I may be apostate, I'm still a damn good person. And so is she.

So I am kind and respectful and largely the same person I used to be when I speak with her. I let her tell me about her scripture study, why she won't watch Breaking Dawn if it's rated R (though I would tell her why that's lame--just like I did when she was freaking out about going to Starbucks--what if her YW saw? they wouldn't know she was going for the hot chocolate!). I listen to her talk about how important her callings are and how she doesn't appreciate people making fun of her for that. I don't make fun of her. I have a hard time saying anything bad about her, and I hope to god that's not what it seems like I'm doing here. She's not a bad person. She's a scared person. She wants to be and do her best.

But she's lost herself. And I'm hoping she'll be like her mom and one day chill the fuck out because this isn't headed anywhere good.

I hate how she's changed and fully realize she probably feels the exact same way about me.

I listen though. I ask her about church.

You know?

And while I used to think god, why can't I just go back to church so we can be friends again and I can avoid this apostate crap I don't want to hurt her it would just be so much EASIER I'm getting over it now.

The more zealous she gets the more I realize she's not the girl I used to know. Like I said, she's in there somewhere, but I wonder now that she realizes we're no longer active if she'll crank up the righteous meter even more.

And, to get back to the original intent of this blog post, while I am getting to the point of refusing to wear capris for their comfort, I have to confront the fact that while I am kind and respectful and totally nice about their conversations with me about church, I come here and bitch.

Isn't that a little two faced?

I don't like to think I'm a bitch. If they saw this blog, that'd be the end of a lot of stuff. But both sides are part of who I am. I don't want to be a bitch to their face, so I take it here. I'd initially feel the need to apologize profusely if they ever saw this, but I've gotten better about that. I stand by this stuff, stuff they'd never see past. They'd just say "anti!!!." But hell, I'm scared for my ex-roomie to see this, though she knows--she's seen and read so much. And she's been so amazing. She's my sister. Always has been.

I've always felt a bit two-faced, though. Always looking to make the other guy more comfortable while I writhe in my own skin. And I want to protect SIL from being hurt. That doesn't seem very respectful, to assume someone can't handle the truth. But from what I've experienced, a lot of people just can't.

My stepmom the other day said I should be more open with my blog, remarking "eh, they'll have to get over it." But she, as a tongue-speaking evangelical holy roller Christian doesn't realize that she'd be offended by much of this, too. Just the "agnostic" thing would set her off. I couldn't tell her that it would offend her too. I don't know that she'd just "get over it." My insides can only take so much.

I don't want to lose people any more than I already have. I get it, that I'll separate the wheat from the chaff but it's easier said than done. I also know that often we make a big deal out of nothing.

But I just want to be me.

I know that's ridiculously cheesy, but shit. I'm 29 years old and still can't just figure out how to be me without feeling like the 16 year old girl I used to be who thought the world would have to get the fuck over it and deal with it. I know now with some years of maturity that there's a bit of catering to the masses, playing the game in order to get jobs, network, etc, but I find it so difficult. Maybe everyone does. Maybe I've been spoiled.

I mean, I will play the game, but it makes me feel dirty. And two-faced.

Breaking the Sabbath

I'm having a difficult time focusing, so of course I come here.

Eh.

So I didn't go to that party. Didn't want to. Looking at the pictures, I know I didn't want to. I have nothing against these people, but yet I feel I do for some reason. They're nice people, but they're not *my* people, you know?

And I would've been a bummer. I'm just not a karaoke girl.

There are, however, hot tub pictures. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) the dudes were in their swim shorts.

The host did get tossed into the pool. The picture showed a good garment shot--good to know who is temple-worthy and who is not.

So today was my kid's birthday party. My boy likes to have a lot of people around him. Born to two very unsociable parents, and he wants everyone around. It didn't work out for him this time, though. One kid was able to come, just one, so I made a last minute pleading call to my SIL, knowing I was asking her to come to a birthday party on Sunday. I knew if I were just a friend she would've said "sorry, it's Sunday" but since we're family, they all came over.

I was so glad.

But, y'know, it's 95 degrees outside today. Even inside, where's a cool 72, it's just too effing hot to wear pants, and I can't help but feel like a Molly in my capris--especially if I know I'm going to be around members. It just makes me feel two-faced. So, I thought, it's about time. I was going to wear my shorts in front of my rather zealous SIL.

Who didn't, btw, used to be quite this zealous. I miss my old friend. A lot.

So she comes inside and TOTALLY noticed the shorts. Her eyes widened. She looked at my shorts and immediately looked at my eyes.

Dear god. It was so much worse than when she saw the piercing, a reaction which admittedly wasn't bad at all--but I mean, wouldn't you think an eyebrow piercing would elicit a bigger reaction than SHORTS?

I know, I know. Garments, temple stuff, eternity, etc. I know.

But still. Shorts. It just pisses me off that they're considered immodest when they were quite reasonable.

She was cool the whole day, didn't say anything weird. I asked her how church was, yadayada. But there was awkwardness. At least I felt it. Especially when I joined her in the empty room while she finished nursing her baby. She didn't feel comfortable when it was just us, and I'm not really sure why. There's always the chance I'm overthinking it, but I like to think I know her fairly well. There was a time we couldn't go a day without hanging out. For weeks.

At one point I found myself covering my legs with a little pillow when I sat. It took me a while before I thought yanno, screw this. So I just let 'em out. They're thighs.

OooOh.

I mean, christ. Not like I had buttcheek fighting to get out.

It became progressively weirder as the day went along.

It didn't help that the other mom--not LDS--waxed on and on about how her children are her world and made brief but subtle remarks about how kids with working parents end up pains in the asses. That's a whole other post, but I had to get that out as a mama who hopes to soon work and who doesn't make her kids her entire world--at least not like she described it. That's what my mom did, and it didn't do shit for her. Or us.

Or SIL's comment about how it was so nice to see "real boys."

I hate what the church does to its members. I love her so much and yet I hear this correlated, Julie Beck, YW "girls are pink!" crap coming out of her mouth. I hate it hate it hate it.

Anyway.

I knew SIL made a bit of a sacrifice or whatever to come over today, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for her and her family to come. My son needed a good party, and that requires kids. Her kids and mine get along *so* well, and I almost cried I was so glad she agreed to come. She's very to the letter about her Sundays, moreso than she was some years ago when she suggested that we all get together for a picnic at the park. That was the time my husband said "No. It's the Sabbath." Oy. WTF?

Then there's the music she used to listen to. I even made a reference to it today and she totally dismissed me, ignored it. Like it never happened. Also, the movies she used to want to watch.

All gone. Poof.

I miss my friend. I know she's in there somewhere. I see her flicker in her eyes sometimes when it's just us and we talk. But then she's quickly chased away by comments like "I read my scriptures when..." and shit like that. So intent on being righteous that she's lost the personality I loved to be around.

I just miss her.