Thoughts by Sister Mary Lisa

Hi, my peeps!

2010-05-13T07:46:00.002-07:00

I've been navigating life so fully that I've neglected my blog severely. I'm supposed to be busy today finishing my latest collage, but want to post a few upcoming topics I'll be writing about soon before I hit the collage again.

~ I finally set myself up as an artist. For real. With a business card and website and everything! I'm so excited. Check it out here if you wish.

~ I'm thrilled with the mourning doves that have created a nest in the rain gutter above my back patio. I'm enamored with birds, and always have been.

~ I've got more to tell regarding my Life In Flux Part 1 post. Parts 2 and further are brewing in my mind right now.

~ I appreciate the support and love I've felt from my blog friends. It carries over into my facebook which I believe has distracted me from my blog writing. Of course, divorce and not wanting to air my very real and very private life experiences pertaining to said divorce on this blog was the true reason I cut back so drastically so quickly, but I'm getting closer to being ready to write more. Thanks for your patience while I find my balance again. I'm happier than I've ever been and I'm ready to share that with you now.

But first, my collage is calling my name.

Check it out!

2009-09-17T06:33:00.002-07:00

Belaja approached me to illustrate a post she wrote that blew me away when I read it. She is an amazing writer and I feel so honored to have been able to work with her on this project. Her writing on the female Mormon experience is the best I've ever read. I'm so excited that it's posted!

Please go to Main Street Plaza and read it and leave your comments. Thanks!

Pastel Drawing

2009-05-27T17:59:00.004-07:00

I drew this pastel on a hymn page using a Jeremy Lipking painting as reference.

Life in Flux - Part 1

2009-03-26T20:57:00.004-07:00

I've been so busy lately with numerous things that have taken me away from my blogging, and despite all my good intentions, I haven't been able to find the time to update my blog to explain it all. I have a few minutes to start writing out my thoughts, and I wish I could get into great detail but I know that it's late and I'm tired so it'll be fast, and in multiple posts, I'm sure.

Leaving Mormonism was the first big Life Change that started me on the road to finally, for the very first time that I can recall, dipping my oars into the water and steering my own ship. Always before, I felt like a leaf on a river, floating along wherever I was taken. In retrospect, I don't think I ever even felt I had the right to steer my own path. I grew up with a very controlling and emotionally abusive father, who hardly encouraged me or my siblings to be autonomous, independent, and confident in ourselves. I also was raised in a very restrictive religion, where a woman's "righteous" path is spelled out for her from childhood to death. Then, after getting pregnant out of wedlock at BYU, I married a man who was 8 years older than me, who seemed to be similar to what I was used to dealing with: someone who also had a need to be in full control.

Starting my blog was key to this change in me. I felt for the first time in a very long time that I had a voice...something valid to say. Re-thinking my place in this world beyond the constraints of the Mormon path--reviewing my "only worthy purpose" given by God himself to be a mother in Zion--I found myself staring hard at my life and realizing there was much I needed to change if I wanted to have true happiness.

So I began the very difficult process of determining for myself, for the first time since I was married at age 21, exactly what I wanted for my life. I knew that I wasn't happy and that I needed some serious changes in my life. I realized that I was not being true to myself, and thus was not giving my children the example I wanted them to have of a mother who is strong, autonomous, and deserving of being treated well. I finally allowed myself to admit that I was enduring unnecessary pain simply because I was used to it and had a high tolerance for it.

Training

2009-03-06T11:19:00.002-07:00

I'm in the middle of weeks of training my replacement at work. It's going very well, but is causing me to have to actually work straight through every work day. :)

I'm very happy and will update soon.

I'm THRILLED to be getting houseguests this weekend ~ my good friend Pompy. So excited to see her again. It's been since I was 18 that I saw her, and we weren't even friends back then!

I've been petitioned

2009-02-16T08:46:00.003-07:00

...to blog more. I've heard you. I will deliver. I just don't know when. I've got lots of updates in my life to share, so stay tuned!!! Just know that SML is alive and kicking and happier than I've been in a very, very long time.

More soon...

Make a note...

2008-12-17T14:10:00.004-07:00

The pretty striped red tin of Costco's Kirkland brand European Cookies with Belgian Chocolate is NOT a cool gift to give. For my workplace, it's like the holiday fruitcake. We have vendors and business associates gifting our firm stuff like crazy, and we just received our third red tin.

Is it just me or is a Costco brand bulk item a cheesy gift to give? We paid over $170,000 this year alone to one of the vendors who gifted us this, and in thanks we get a $12 tin of stale cookies.

Huh.

I just don't get it.

Hmmm...

2008-12-08T14:31:00.003-07:00

Am I the only one who finds it funny that my Hammermill paper ream comes packaged in plastic?

Howdy!

2008-12-03T11:44:00.004-07:00

A shout out to rrdogma over at iH8Mud.com. SHE apparently googled the word "weenis" and got my blog, then linked it, causing me to get massive hits to my blog today.

Apparently my avatar is popular outside ex-Mormon circles as well. As Sideon so aptly put it, "boobs are universal." Quite so.

(Edited to properly acknowledge that rrdogma is a woman. Which totally proves that boobs are universal.)

Thankful

2008-11-26T14:08:00.004-07:00

What kind of SML would I be if I didn't write some of the things I'm currently thankful for?

~my kids
~paid days off
~high speed internet
~no snow
~good friends
~nay, GREAT friends
~closure
~chocolate covered cherries
~travel adventures
~good times
~good health
~happiness
~family
~airplanes
~gas prices going down
~my sweet dog
~blog readers who haven't disowned me yet
~trees
~800 thread count sheets
~budgets that are black and not red
~new contacts
~hugs and kisses
~kisses and hugs
~fresh air
~space to be me
~the fact I don't have to cook this Thanksgiving

Did I mention happiness?

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. What are you thankful for?

Roots of Mormon Bigotry

2008-11-18T12:07:00.004-07:00

My last post about Proposition 8 in California got this anonymous comment:

I know this is a painful issue for you, and I know you aren't addressing a Mormon audience here, so I don't mean to be disrespectful. But really, I grew up with a lot of family home evening in a very conservative Mormon family and was never taught that those things at home or in church. Maybe I was just lucky or maybe you are vilifying just a little.

I don't think I'm vilifying, and below are some of the teachings of prophets and apostles of the LDS church and scriptures which can be found in teaching tools available to all faithful parents who are able to teach these things to their children if they desire. I have no doubt that there were LDS parents who did have their children listen to General Conference talks back then, and who taught their children what the prophets were saying about the cursed blacks. I'm sure there were teachers in classes in church who did the same. Why would they not follow the prophets and believe them?

So if we have evidence of blatant bigotry from our beloved past prophets and apostles, and we dismiss their words now because back then they were "speaking as men, not as prophets" ~ then who's to say that our prophet RIGHT NOW isn't doing the same when he pushed members to lend their money and time in support of Proposition 8 which took away the right of gays to marry in California? Is this not also evidence of bigotry?

ROOTS OF MORMON BIGOTRY (as copied from Emily Pearson's blog)~ thanks, Em!

Friday, November 14, 2008
Roots Of Mormon Bigotry
Elder Mark E. Peterson
Convention of Teachers of Religion on the College Level,
Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah, August 27, 1954.

"God has commanded Israel not to intermarry. To go against this commandment of God would be in sin. Those who willfully sin with their eyes open to this wrong will not be surprised to find that they will be separated from the presence of God in the world to come. This is spiritual death. The reason that one would lose his blessings by marrying a Negro is due to the restriction placed upon them. ["No person having the least particle of Negro blood can hold the Priesthood" Brigham Young.] It does not matter if they are one-sixth Negro or one-hundred and sixth, the curse of no Priesthood is the same. If an individual who is entitled to the Priesthood marries a Negro, the Lord has decreed that only spirits who are not eligible for the Priesthood will come to that marriage as children. To intermarry with a Negro is to forfeit a 'Nation of Priesthood holders'...."

"I think I have read enough to give you an idea of what the Negro is after. He is not just seeking the opportunity of sitting down in a cafe where white people eat. He isn't just trying to ride on the same streetcar or the same Pullman car with white people. It isn't that he just desires to go to the same theater as the white people... it appears that the Negro seeks absorption with the white race... Now let's talk about segregation again for a few moments. Was segregation a wrong principle? When the Lord chose the nations to which the spirits were to come, determining that some would be Japanese and some would be Chinese and some Negroes and some Americans, He engaged in an act of segregation. Who placed the Negroes originally in darkest Africa? Was it some man, or was it God?... Now we are generous with the Negro. We are willing that the Negro have the highest education. I would be willing to let every Negro drive a Cadillac if they could afford it. I would be willing that they have all the advantages they can get out of life in the world. But let them enjoy these things among themselves."

Elder Bruce R. McConkie
Mormon Doctrine

(Pg. 102) "Though he was a rebel and an associate of Lucifer in the pre-existence, and though he was a liar from the beginning whose name was Perdition, Cain was cursed with a dark skin; he became the father of the Negroes, and those spirits who are not worthy to receive the priesthood are born though his lineage. He became the first mortal to be cursed as a son of perdition."

(Pg. 343) "Through Ham (a name meaning black) the blood of the Canaanites was preserved through the flood, he having married Egyptus, a descendant of Cain. Negroes in this life are denied the priesthood; under no circumstances can they hold this delegation of authority from the Almighty. The gospel message of salvation is not carried affirmatively to them. Negroes are not equal with other races where the receipt of certain spiritual blessings are concerned...

2 NEPHI 5:21-24

And he had caused the cursing to come upon them, yea, even a sore cursing, because of their iniquity. For behold, they had hardened their hearts against him, that they had become like unto a flint; wherefore, as they were white, and exceedingly fair and delightsome, that they might not be enticing unto my people the Lord God did cause a skin of blackness to come upon them.

And thus saith the Lord God: I will cause that they shall be loathsome unto thy people, save they shall repent of their iniquities.

And cursed shall be the seed of him that mixeth with their seed; for they shall be cursed even with the same cursing. And the Lord spake it, and it was done.

And because of their cursing which was upon them they did become an idle people, full of mischief and subtlety, and did seek in the wilderness for beasts of prey.

President Spencer W. Kimball
General Conference Report, October, 1960.
Improvement Era, December 1960, pp. 922-923.

"I saw a striking contrast in the progress of the Indian people today.... The day of the Lamanites is nigh. For years they have been growing delightsome, and they are now becoming white and delightsome, as they were promised. In this picture of the twenty Lamanite missionaries, fifteen of the twenty were as light as Anglos, five were darker but equally delightsome. The children in the home placement program in Utah are often lighter than their brothers and sisters in the hogans on the reservation. At one meeting a father and mother and their daughter were present, the little member girl - sixteen - sitting between the dark father and mother, and it was evident she was several shades lighter than her parents - on the same reservation, in the same hogan, subject to the same sun and wind and weather.... These young members of the Church are changing to whiteness and to delightsomeness. One white elder jokingly said that he and his companion were donating blood regularly to the hospital in the hope that the process might be accelerated."

President Joseph Fielding Smith

( Doctrines of Salvation, pp. 65-66) "There were no neutrals in the war in heaven. All took sides either with Christ or with Satan. Every man had his agency there, and men receive rewards here based upon their actions there, just as they will receive rewards hereafter for deeds done in the body. The Negro, evidently, is receiving the reward he merits.

( Juvenile Instructor, vol. 26, p. 635) "It is very clear that the mark which was set upon the descendants of Cain was a skin of blackness...It has been noticed in our day that men who have lost the spirit of the Lord, and from whom His blessings have been withdrawn, have turned dark to such an extent as to excite the comments of all who have known them."

President John Taylor

(Journal of Discourses, Vol. 22, pg. 304.) And after the flood we are told that the curse that had been pronounced upon Cain was continued through Ham's wife, as he had married a wife of that seed. And why did it pass through the flood? Because it was necessary that the devil should have a representative upon the earth as well as God."

( Millennial Star, Vol. 14, pg. 418.) "For instance, the descendants of Cain cannot cast off their skin of blackness, at once, and immediately, although every soul of them should repent... Cain and his posterity must wear the mark which God put upon them; and his white friends may wash the race of Cain with fuller's soap every day, they cannot wash away God's mark."

President Brigham Young
Journal of Discourses
Vol. 7, pg. 290-291

"Shall I tell you the law of God in regard to the African Race? If the White man who belongs to the chosen seed mixes his blood with the seed of Cain, the penalty, under the law of God, is death on the spot. This will always be so."

"You see some classes of the human family that are black, uncouth, uncomely, disagreeable and low in their habits, wild, and seemingly deprived of nearly all the blessings of the intelligence that is generally bestowed upon mankind. The first man that committed the odious crime of killing one of his brethren will be cursed the longest of any one of the children of Adam. Cain slew his brother. Cain might have been killed, and that would have put a termination to that line of human beings. This was not to be, and the Lord put a mark upon him, which is the flat nose and black skin. Trace mankind down to after the flood, and then another curse is pronounced upon the same race - that they should be the "servant of servants" and they will be, until that curse is removed.

Thoughts on Prop 8 Passing in California

2008-11-11T08:41:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, good God-fearing LDS folks taught their kids in family home evening that black men should not have the priesthood because they are cursed by God. Once upon a time, good God-fearing LDS folks taught their kids that it was morally wrong for a white person to marry a black one. Once upon a time, good God-fearing LDS folks taught their kids in family home evening that women should NOT be afforded equal rights and that the Equal Rights Amendment should be opposed at all costs.

And then the church grew with the times and suddenly these things were OK by God.

How great to be among the people who realize intrinsically that we are all equal as human beings. How great to finally see that imposing one’s religious morals that hinder true equality and basic rights for certain groups through non-religious means like constitutional amendments is wrong. I really look forward to the day when bigotry dissolves and people can become comfortable enough with who they are to allow others to be who they are without any need to try to change others to conform to what or who they are.

Saying that gay people shouldn’t be allowed to marry because it’s morally wrong seems as ridiculous to me as someone saying that brown-haired people should not be allowed to marry brown-haired people, and the law should reflect this truth! It hurts nobody that someone is attracted to the same sex. Actively homosexual neighbors are every bit as harmful to you and your family as brown-haired neighbors are.

Busy again!

2008-11-03T13:43:00.003-07:00

I recently went to Salt Lake City to attend the Ex-Mormon Foundation Conference and visit friends. It was a great time, and a much-needed getaway. It was good to see my family in Utah at the same time.

Halloween was AWESOME because the weather was perfect. For the first time in years, I was able to go trick-or-treating with my little pirate and I didn't have to wear full winter gear due to cold. It was a balmy 60 or 65 degrees, and it was wonderful. My mom came up as a surprise to the kids, so it was a great weekend hanging with her.

Work has been gearing up for year-end and I'm also in Hell Week. I know, what's new, right? It seems I'm always in hell week. I'll try to make time soon to answer the questions I haven't forgotten you asked of me a few posts ago, my friends...

Happy Monday!

Bought the wrong window cling last week...

2008-10-10T10:02:00.003-07:00

I'm not ready

2008-10-09T07:38:00.003-07:00

At 9:00 p.m. tonight it's supposed to begin snowing, and the weatherman says over the next two days we'll get nine inches of snow.

Suckitude.

Portrait Process

2008-10-01T22:06:00.011-07:00

Cele once asked me to describe for her my art process, and I figured this graphite portrait of my niece would be a good place to do so. I had to remember to take photos as I went, so that I could successfully show what I do to get a finished portrait from a blank piece of paper.

First, I have to either be inspired by an image or create an image I imagine in my head. I've only once created art from my imagination that I didn't use a reference photo for. If I want a portrait to turn out well, the reference photo has to be good and inspire excitement in me. I prefer to take my own reference photos, and so that's what I did when my brother-in-law called to commission me. He got the girls ready and I went over with my camera and we had a little photo shoot out in the back yard. :) Then we headed indoors to upload the photos and choose which one(s) were best, which we narrowed down to one favorite from each girl. Here is the one we chose for T:

We printed the chosen photos, then I took them home and got my drawing paper out and taped it to my drawing board. I measured my drawing to fit the frame and mat that we had chosen. Using the lightest (hardest) pencil I have (2H), I lightly drew in the outline of her face, measuring for proportion constantly as I went. Sometimes I have a direct size match from the photo to my drawing, as happened with this portrait. I freehand the drawing either way. I do draw one line through the center of the drawing horizontally and one vertically, so that I can verify that my proportions and dimensions are accurate. Some artists use a full grid system, but I don't have the patience for that much work, and they risk being unable to successfully erase the grid once they're done.

Since I'm right-handed, I tend to draw left to right to avoid smudging and smearing, which is a real risk when drawing on a board in my lap. Once I'm confident that my drawing is sound and is proportioned right, I begin shading in the background and face. I use a 2B pencil almost primarily for this stage of the drawing, unless the background or hair or clothes are black, then I'll use a softer, darker lead size like 4B or 6B.

I continue until I have finished, which I clean up using my kneadable eraser, and I sign it, then spray using a fixative varnish spray to prevent smudging. After it dries for a night, I frame it in the cheap frames I can afford. Sometimes the person who commissioned me has it professionally framed.

My beautiful niece, T.

Q&A - Art Questions

2008-10-01T21:32:00.003-07:00

My friend Mark asks a ton of questions: "I am so jealous of your artistic talents. Was this something that you learned? Or were you born with this gift? Did you take art classes? Who influenced you? Were you the best at drawing in kindergarden? Have you ever finished an art project and then said "This turned out like crap?" What is your favorite art piece?
Does art require perfection? Do you have a favorite color? What is your favorite medium? Have you ever sketched a nude? Have you ever sketched in the nude? Have you ever done a self portrait? Have you ever done a nude self portrait? lol"

I loved art classes and drawing and creating things in elementary school and junior high, but it wasn't until I was in 9th grade that I took chorus and found that my discomfort at singing solos for my grade in class was bringing my grade down. So I switched to Art 1 and discovered that I could draw and paint quite well compared with the others in my class. It was something I never knew about myself, not really. It really gives me a sense of self-worth and joy that I thrive on.

I don't recall being the best at art in elementary school, but I do recall sitting in my fourth grade class with a classmate named Blossom who could draw these cartoon-like, stylish women in high heels and I longed to draw like that. So I'd doodle pages and pages of women: hands, feet in high heels, noses, eyes, lips. All from different angles until they looked right. Then I'd draw pages and pages of women. To this day, figurative art is my favorite and what draws my passion the most. In all my art from childhood that my mom saved for me, I drew women.

Anyhow, the only formal instruction I've had is in high school from one teacher, Mr. Cottrell. He was a western-type artist who loved doing nature and wildlife art. He taught me all I know and the rest I'm learning as I go. :) I'd say he influenced me the most of anyone in my art, because he taught me skills that help refine the talent I was born with.

Recently my brother-in-law commissioned me to draw his three daughters for my sister for their anniversary. While art does NOT require perfection, and sometimes mistakes are made that actually make the art better than I had planned first, with portraiture there is a bit of perfection required or else it won't look like the person I'm trying to draw. This happened with my second of the three. Halfway through, I realized this drawing is not looking like her, and I felt the need to give up and start fresh with one of my other nieces before I totally ruined it. I may go back and try to salvage what I started...but for now, that was one piece that just isn't turning out like I had hoped. That hasn't happened to me in awhile. Sometimes art that I'm creating just for myself turns out like crap, and I don't end up hanging it. I have a few canvases in my bedroom now that will end up in the garbage soon, once I get around to sorting through it all. :) (I'll post another blog post right after this one, to showcase my portrait process for Cele (since she asked so nicely) and show you what's kept me so busy lately that I haven't blogged very regularly).

I don't have a favorite art piece of my own (I tend to like them all), but the three portraits I'm working on are looking to be some of my best portraits so far. I don't have any one favorite art piece that I can point to, but I do have some I'm more proud of than others. I hope to take photos of some of them to share here on my blog. You can see some I'm proud of in my blogroll under "My Art" if you've never seen any of my stuff.

My favorite color is green, but I'm really a fan of all colors. My favorite medium for portraiture is graphite pencil (so I can erase when needed!). My favorite medium varies from project to project, depending on what style or look I'm going for. Some pieces of art scream "pastels" or "charcoal" or "oil paints" or "acrylics" and I listen to that or else it simply doesn't turn out well.

I have never "sketched" a nude, but have drawn one nude using a painting by Jeremy Lipking (God, he's so good) as my reference. I used a black pastel pencil and drew her and then gifted it to my sister Kate. Don't have a good photo of that drawing. I would love to take a drawing class with nude live models someday. I actually need to take that to grow as a figurative artist. I have never drawn in the nude. I probably never will, because I tend to get cold too easily, which makes me less likely to draw well. I can't recall drawing or painting a self-portrait of my face. I have tried a few times and let me tell you, it's very difficult to do.

Thanks for all the questions about my art, Mark. Someday I'd love to do more art. I have portraits from now til Christmas, then I hope to work on some ideas I've had rolling around in my subconcious for awhile.

laughing

2008-09-23T09:53:00.004-07:00

~We interrupt the regularly scheduled Q&A session to share something funny I just did.~

I was emailing someone about work, and I caught my typo just in time:

I have a big pile of male to process here as well.

I WISH.
*fanning myself*

Q & A - MyTop 10 Best Moments in Life, and Why

2008-09-21T20:26:00.004-07:00

Wry asked, “What's your top 10 Best Moments in Life, and why?”

I’ve been mulling this over ever since you asked it, and I’m not sure if I can limit myself to just ten best moments, but I’ll give it a go here. So, in no particular order, here are some of the Best Moments in my Life, and why.

~The birth of my son. He was my first child in my life, and I felt an immediate bond with him from the time I knew I was pregnant, even though the discovery itself was traumatic ~ because I was a single, Mormon girl at BYU, and unwed pregnancy is grounds for being kicked out. But he is one of the top blessings in my life, and always has been.

~Getting a beautiful step-daughter upon marrying her father. She is such a beautiful person, inside and out, and I will always consider her my daughter. She was seven when we married, and she has been such a joy to have in my life. She is one of those people who makes others feel good to be near her, and I love her dearly. She is someone I hope finds the greatest happiness in her life, because she deserves it.

~The birth of my youngest daughter. She is a sweet and special girl to me. She has a tender heart and is sensitive and creative in many ways that amaze me at times. She has hidden talents that I hope she discovers and develops as she grows older. I hope she always dances to her own tune, like she does now.

~The time I was in high school and heard the announcement over the intercom that anyone interested in being a foreign exchange student should attend the parents meeting at 7:00 pm that night. My heart started beating hard, and I knew immediately I never wanted anything more than I wanted to be an exchange student. I hadn’t even thought of it before that moment. That day after school, I approached my mom, and although I could tell she felt somewhat hopeless about the possibility of me ever being able to do something like that due to how poor we were, she attended that meeting with me. Her willingness to come with me showed me so many things about my mom that day: 1. she loved me enough to take time out of her busy life to look into something she knew was important to me; 2. she believed in me when I said I’d work hard and do everything in my power to pay for the trip myself; 3. she backed me up in my dream when the easiest thing would have been to simply say there’s no way in hell it would work. That day changed my life, because I was determined and got accepted into the program, and I got a scholarship to go, and worked full time for over a year to save up to spend a year in Austria…which brings me to…

~The year I was an exchange student in Austria at age 18. It was my first flight on a plane, and my first view of the world beyond the Western United States. I could write for a full week and still not be able to list all the reasons that trip was great for me in my life. I had a wonderful host family who love me like their own, and the trip was a huge and unexpected gift in my life. I think it helped shape me into who I am, and helped me be more open-minded about other cultures and helped me to embrace the differences that can be found in others and celebrate the beauty found in true friendship with others.

~My trip to Paris last November, which was daring and huge for me to do at that particular time in my life. I loved Paris, and meeting my blog friends there was a priceless gift to myself. I still totally need to blog about Paris more, and will soon, I promise. I have made friends for life from that trip, and will always consider it one of the best moments in my life for that reason alone. The food, scenery, and art were great too.

~Getting a B in chorus class in 9th grade (due to my loathing of singing solos in class for a grade). This threw my grade point average down (a tiny bit, but enough to bother me at the time) enough to make me switch to Art 1 class to fulfill my visual/performing arts elective requirement. There, I discovered my true love of art, and the fact I’m good at it. This really helped shape my sense of self-worth, something that had been sadly lacking in my life before then.

~Winning the Marie Walsh Sharpe Art Foundation Summer Seminar art scholarship the summer between my sophomore and junior years of high school. I got to take a 22 hour Greyhound bus ride to Colorado College in Colorado Springs and study art in a college setting with 23 other kids from a 6-state region for two weeks. It was wonderful, and also did wonders for my confidence and sense of self. It made me love doing art even more. I learned there about how mistakes in art can sometimes be a surprise that works for the finished product. My brother has the purple chair painting with drips I’m talking about.

~Googling my way out of the Mormon religion. The religion played such a huge role in shaping me into the woman I had become for so many years. Allowing myself to finally look with open and clear eyes at what I had become and what my life was like AND WHY was absolutely key in shedding those things in my life that were harming me on a very basic level. It caused me to start blogging, something that also has been huge in my finding myself and discovering a support group of friends that are priceless to me. I also value the creativity that I’ve tapped within myself as I’ve broadened my mind and discovered that I have a voice and something valid to say.

~Finding my very best friend in this world. I had never before then felt so accepted for who I am. I am completely changed because of it. I feel like I can do anything I set my mind on with the priceless support and encouragement I get from this person. I am valued and loved and appreciated. I feel safe to love myself now, and this frees me to love others fully. What a rare and precious gift. Mein Schatz.

~Standing on the beach in Hawaii. The ocean speaks to my soul. It moves me powerfully. I could watch the ocean forever.

I have many other Best Moments in Life, but I’ll save them for another blog post, as this one is pretty long already. Thanks for the great question, Wry. I’m going to try to use this lighter week or two to answer more of the questions I've been given. Wish me luck!

Suggestion Box

2008-09-05T10:30:00.002-07:00

I need your help, my friends. It's obvious that I'm in dire need of inspiration and motivation for writing more blog posts here. I've been inspired by Wry Catcher to ask my readers if they have any questions for me, so I can write answers as blog posts, which will hopefully entertain and delight you, and motivate and inspire me to get my writing back on track.

Let's have fun with this Q&A session, shall we? Talk to me.

epic stench

2008-08-20T09:53:00.004-07:00

This morning as we drove to the soccer fields, my son and his friend realized they better get their gear on. Just as I was putting a bite of a Pop Tart in my mouth, J said to me, “You might not wanna eat that, Mom. . .oh, too late.” Suddenly the WORST STENCH I’VE EVER SMELLED hit me like a sledgehammer to the face, causing my bite to taste like what I was smelling. K had opened his soccer bag and was putting on his socks and cleats. I literally began gagging and couldn’t quit, even after he got out of the car. I damn near drove off the road. I was forced to continue chewing that godawful bite that tasted just like the dark cloud of death until I could swallow and finally start breathing through my mouth instead. My eyes kept watering and my eyelashes went completely straight. As J and I were crying “Oh God, the horror!” K just kept apologizing and saying that he’s been wearing the same pair of socks since soccer tryouts began on Monday (twice a day, almost 100 degree heat). I’d rather be sprayed directly in the face by a skunk than smell that smell again. *shudder* I'm taking them after work back to the fields, and I'll be making damn sure he keeps his soccer bag in my trunk until we get to the fields, where he can put the socks on outside in the wide open wind.

I smelled the awful stench all the way to work. I STILL smell it now. I fear that the smell got in my clothes and hair, but I’m desperately hoping it’s just my imagination and that what I keep smelling is just residual stench trapped in my nose. I’m desperately trying to forget the junior high science lesson by Mr. Hornung about how when you smell something, it’s actual MICROSCOPIC PARTICLES OF THAT THING entering your nose and attaching themselves to the hair follicles in there. I just threw up in my mouth a little.

I'd have never guessed I'd be happy that today they have my front door open by my desk and are painting the door. AND I'm happy they are out there smoking, causing the smoke smell to come in my office on me. It drowns out the incessant smell of K's funkywrong socks. At this point I'd even welcome a diesel truck to park itself right outside my open office door. Frankly, I'd be surprised if that DIDN'T happen on this smellybadluck day.

Friday at last

2008-08-08T08:19:00.003-07:00

I have been busy drawing portraits lately, which I will share (with photos of my process, just for Cele!) as soon as I finish. Also I'm in my busy time at work, but wanted to share a funny story from this morning.

I was driving my daughter (age 10) to her cousins' house this morning. We were listening to a song on one of J's mixes called "Shake It" that says "shake shake, shake shake sha-shake it" and next to our car a woman with a large backside was walking. S said, "Uh, this song does NOT go well with that girl." She cracks me up.

What a life...

2008-07-28T22:04:00.002-07:00

Massage

2008-07-25T09:27:00.002-07:00

The other day, my son and his friend were talking about their plan to go to the S-P-A. I asked what the S-P-A was and J said, "Uh, the spa, Mom. Duh." I was surprised they wanted to go to a spa. They apparently want to go get a massage.

A few days ago, I picked them both up from work. They talked about it again, and J mentioned to K that he'd look up different places and try to find where massages are available and schedule it up. I suggested a couple of salons that offer massage. K joked about finding an Asian massage therapist, and I laughed and said, "Oh yeah, you can call Tokyo Sauna!" then I laughed hard, and K joked then about how they could get a sumo wrestler to give them a massage and the subject was changed.

I didn't think any more of it until the next night, when my son told me he had called different spas. "But, Mom, that Tokyo Sauna place won't give you a massage unless you're at least 25." I burst out laughing and could barely choke out the words, "YOU CALLED TOKYO SAUNA?!?! That's a place for NASTY MASSAGE AND SEX!! Didn't you KNOW THAT? I thought EVERYONE knew that! What did they SAY?!"

J's eyes got huge and he said that explained it. He said a woman with a very Asian accent answered the phone, "Tokyo Sauna." (This story is most hilarious when told by J with a female Asian accent). He asked if they do massage.

[suspicious Asian accent]"How old are you?"[/suspicious Asian accent]

He lied, because her voice was so suspicious, and told her he was 18 rather than 15. She said, "We only do massage if you are twenty-five or older! Stop calling here!!" He was bewildered why she'd yell at him like this.

I'm STILL laughing that he called Tokyo Sauna.

No doubt

2008-07-22T08:23:00.002-07:00

Have you ever made a decision in your life that, once made and acted upon, consistently and obviously proved to be the right choice?

Fun

2008-07-01T21:35:00.005-07:00

All you need:

1. mini marshmallows
2. unscented candle
3. toothpicks
4. patience

S says the perfect roasted marshmallow happens when you light it on fire, blow it out, light the next side on fire, and blow it out until you are left with charred black gooey-ness. I say perfection happens when you patiently roast the marshmallow to a golden tan.

Mmmmmm.

Note to self:

2008-06-29T14:39:00.003-07:00

Either
1. buy a smaller bag of potatoes next time, or
2. cook potatoes more often.

Happy Weekend!

2008-06-27T08:44:00.009-07:00

I recently bought a movie about the artwork of Andy Goldsworthy called "Rivers and Tides."

I watched it with my ten year old daughter, and halfway through it, she asked if she could carve a bar of soap, saying I had never let her before. I figured that was fine, so I got her a cookie sheet, her brother's Swiss Army Knife, and a bar of soap. I was working on paperwork I had brought home from work while watching the movie, so I didn't pay any attention until she said she was done and what did I think?

Tell me what YOU think (she titled them both and took her own photos of both designs):

"Design 1"

"Nature Inside Us"

Here's what I think. My daughter has got some seriously amazing artistic talent. Her "Nature Inside Us" piece has been the centerpiece on my dining table for a couple weeks now, and my house smells deliciously of soap. I love it. This weekend I plan to watch the DVD again and maybe she and I will head out and design something in nature like he did. Sounds like great fun.

Big Sky Country

2008-06-25T14:30:00.006-07:00

I loves me some Montana sky. I remember missing the sky in Montana terribly the year I lived in Austria as I also did during my year at BYU.

Here is a really cool and funky cloud I photographed last week:

This is the cool cloud that rolled right over us at one of my daughter's recent softball games. We actually stopped play to sit in our cars for over half an hour while the storm cloud was overhead: thunder, lightning, and rain going strong until it blew beyond us. We resumed the game like diehards. Not sure that was necessary in the 9-10 age group, but the coaches have a different outlook, apparently.

Bird Lovers

2008-06-19T09:32:00.011-07:00

Last Friday evening my daughter and I decided to take Chewie (our dachsund) to a park that S remembered from her early day care days years ago. She directed me to a park I never heard of called Peanut Park, and we got out with Chewie on his leash. Just as I was getting a blanket out of my trunk, Chewie ran forward in the grass and sniffed at a little black object, which Sierra kept Chewie from until she could discover that it was a bird. A live bird. Obviously a fuzzy baby bird who should still be in a nest.

We poked at it for awhile with a stick to see if it showed signs of injury, and it would open its mouth really wide and squawk at us. I got it to walk a step or two, and it didn't look injured, just hungry. I knew that she was worried about the bird because she couldn't play in the sand without looking over at the spot under the pine tree where she knew the bird was. Every time a person walked their dog down the street near the bird's hiding spot in the grass, she'd run over and protect it by standing between it and the dog. So cute.

The entire evening I knew what was coming: "Mom, we can't just LEAVE IT OUT HERE TO DIE!"

I tried without much success to discuss the circle of life, and how nature is sometimes cruel...and I knew without a doubt that I didn't want that bird to come home with us and DIE ON MY SHIFT. I also didn't have the heart to drive away and let her worry about cats feasting on her bird. So when it was time to leave and pick up J from work, we took a winter scarf from my trunk and picked up the tiny bird, and we decided to make it a nest in a box and leave it at the veterinary hospital next door to J's work. S got a box from J's work and filled it with a huge wad of paper towels while I stood outside my car (away from Chewie's curious mouth) holding the bird in the scarf.

So she got a piece of paper after creating the nest and placing the bird inside it, and wrote this note, complete with my phone number and "thank you!!" at the end (which I cropped out):

We drove with J to the vet hospital, and S placed her box carefully on the doorstep. We closed it to protect it from cats again, but there was a small hole at the top just above the bird so it had enough air. She had such a hard time walking away, and she watched the box until it was out of sight as I drove around the corner.

The next day, I drove by the vet's office at 9 a.m. after taking J to work again, and the box was no longer on the step. I reported this to S, who proceeded to ask me about twenty times over the course of that day and Sunday if the vet had called me yet. They hadn't. I told her I bet they are taking good care of it for her.

I hope.

Meanwhile, I think I may have lost a scarf. But bird lovers don't care about such things.

Alive

2008-06-17T13:50:00.003-07:00

To my faithful readers who may be wondering if I'm alive...

Yes, indeed I am. I even have a couple interesting blog posts coming, with photos no less! Stay tuned. I just finished hell week at work all last week, and I've been enjoying major softball action (my daughter plays in the 9-10 majors girls softball league) which has kept me fairly busy at night as well.

Excuses? Of course. ;) But stay tuned anyway.

Collage

2008-05-25T16:32:00.003-07:00

Just got done creating this collage using ripped magazine pages.

Whattaya think?

Focus on the Family

2008-05-23T08:55:00.003-07:00

I was looking way forward to this Memorial Day weekend, because my mom, sister, and sister's boyfriend were driving up today from Utah to visit for the weekend. Unfortunately, I just found out that Kate and her boyfriend woke up this morning feeling sick, so they aren't coming up anymore. Rather than drive alone today, my mom called my Dad, who had been planning to come up anyway (not that he told me or Tony about his plans), and now they are driving up tomorrow, which is fine, but I'm bummed that now we will have one less day to visit with Madre.

My son has a state soccer tournament in Great Falls all weekend, but my daughter has a softball game tonight, so he is going after school today to Great Falls with his dad, while we planned to do a day trip to Great Falls on Sunday to see him play and to give Grandma a chance to see him. Apparently, my dad chooses to NOT travel with us on Sunday. He'd rather attend church.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints takes major pride (you know, the righteous kind of pride, not the sinful pride) in teaching that FAMILY is the Most Important Thing. This may be true in many LDS families, but it certainly isn't true for my dad. I am fairly certain that he feels he is Choosing The Right by being a righteous example to his poor, misguided, wayward, apostate daughter and her poor, innocent children whom she's leading astray. But all I see is a pathetic excuse of a man who is unable to see how his behavior gives the clear message to his daughters and grandkids that they rate below three hours of boring church. He spends countless hours a week on church things and temple service and genealogy work. He spends a few hours a year visiting us.

I have a guest bedroom all prepared for him. The thing is, I have no idea if he'll choose to stay with me in comfort, or if he'll opt to stay at his (abandoned since 1996) house across town ~ the house that has no power, heat, or running water. That's what he did last time he came to town. He filled a five gallon jug with water from my house and camped out at his house in a sleeping bag, and the temperature was over 100 degrees. So strange. He actually went to TWO wards that Sunday, for a total of 6 hours, rather than come and spend time with his grandkids.

We were in Utah last June over Father's Day weekend, traveling through from our trip to Las Vegas for a soccer regional tournament. I called him, telling him we'd be at his mom's house in Kaysville for about three hours, and asked if he could drive down and visit from Brigham City since we had plans that evening and couldn't make it up there and back with any time to see him. He said no, he had gotten up early to clean the church building, and besides, he had just seen his mother yesterday, and it IS 100 miles round-trip, you know. Oh, yeah, well, um...Happy Father's Day, Dad. Really.

Some parents teach by example. My dad teaches me what NOT to do by his.

happy as a little girl in spring

2008-05-19T20:21:00.004-07:00

My daughter had a nagging cough for over two weeks, and sure enough, I got it. I'm on about day five or six, and it's doing a number on me, that's for sure. The worst part of it is that it's made hash out of my vocal chords, so my voice sounds just awful. All day long, I sound like I just woke up from a bad three-day bender. At the very least, I sound like Bea Arthur. At the very worst, I sound like Bea Arthur's DAD. And he's dead.

I coughed so hard in the night last night, that one of my bottom ribs near my waist is really sore. When I have to talk, it brings on a coughing fit, which really sucks at work. Each time I answer the phone, the people feel they have to comment about how I don't sound like myself, causing me to have to talk even more to state the obvious: Yeah, I'm sick. Wonder how you could tell. Huh. (And hells yes, I've been complaining about this. I'm a wimp.)

Anyway. Regardless of that, life is good. My son got his cast off and will be playing soccer using a hard clamshell thing they created for his forearm, so his wrist has mobility and he can put on his goalie gloves. My mom is coming up from Utah to visit this weekend, and that spells more good times. We will travel to watch my son play on one of the days of the state tournament, and it should be a great weekend. The weather has been in the upper eighties this week, which adds to the joy. It's so nice to enjoy spring for real. Travel across Montana during this time of year is great fun for an artist. It's gorgeous.

I recently started a new ceramic project at the ceramic studio, which I'm excited to complete. I'm also working on a collage using ripped pieces from magazine pages, and I hope it turns out. I've never tried this before. I feel my art coming back to me and it's a great feeling. I may have a graphite portrait commission for Father's Day for the wife of a co-worker...which reminds me ~ I need to call her. Father's Day is coming soon.

Hopefully I'll have some good ideas come to me for this blog as well. I've been way too lax lately and need to write something of quality. If you have any suggested topics, please share. Some of my best blog posts from the past came from "assignments" people gave me. :)

"When Death Comes" by Mary Oliver

2008-05-08T21:08:00.002-07:00

When Death Comes

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

Quite tasty

2008-05-05T07:59:00.002-07:00

I have a perverse enough sense of humor that when I saw the menu item "Camel Toes" at the trendy sandwich shop yesterday, I had to order them.

It was hilarious when the waiter brought our food to the table. "And who has the Camel Toes?"

Uh.....that'd be me.

Yo, Kate!

2008-05-02T13:04:00.003-07:00

Aaaaand,

A shout out to my sister, Kate! She called me last night to let me know she got a full ride scholarship to study nursing! She's been working so damn hard for this for years, and to now be paid to do what she had been working so hard toward all along, well....that's simply awesome.

I'm damn proud of you, Kate. Ya done good. I'm so glad you're my sister.

Yo, Keith!

2008-05-02T09:13:00.002-07:00

Here's a shout out to my brother, Keith, who is in town for work for just over a week. He's my sibling I know perhaps the least, and I'm so damn glad for this opportunity to get to know him better. He's been coming over and hanging out with me after work, and it's been great fun.

Already he's teased me for being like our beloved Madre when I've called him my son's name and when I said three names before getting to the right one when talking about one of our siblings. We've had some great discussions and some serious laughs as he showed me his favorite website on the internet: cracked.com

We sat there laughing for almost an hour at the part labeled "Craptions" where funny pics are posted and people can submit captions to the pics.

I'm really enjoying getting to know my awesome brother better. His birthday happens to be this week also (a source of pain for him, being away from his friends on his great "drinko de Mayo" birthay), so I hope that being with us isn't too much of a let-down. Perhaps we can think up something suitably un-tame to do so he'll feel more at home!

Heh. Imagination going wild now...fun.

What was I thinking?

2008-04-24T09:54:00.004-07:00

I wore a turtleneck today, without thinking about the fact I'd be entering a bunch of invoices into my computer and also paying payables. This means a whole lot of looking back and forth between my stack of invoices and my monitor.

My neck is being rubbed raw. Damn.

The good news is, I'm getting a lot done. There is that.

***Edited to add that I just looked outside, and see that it's snowing. Again. It snowed on Monday enough that I actually had to scrape my car off at lunchtime. Maybe the turtleneck's not such a bad thing after all. Ugh.

Damn

2008-04-18T08:29:00.003-07:00

So I've been pretty busy lately. Last week was hell week crammed into four days while I got all the billing done before I took off for the long drive to Boise on Friday for a soccer tournament for my son. Drove home all day Sunday and am still trying to catch up on sleep from the weekend.

Last night my son was at soccer practice where they were doing a shooting drill, and he dove to save a kick which came in hard at his torso, and somehow during catching the ball or diving, not sure which, he ended up with what he thought was a "messed up wrist" and arm. I drove him to the same-day care and they took x-rays and my son's worst fears were confirmed:

He broke his arm. Radius, to be exact.

Today the orthopedic doctor will put it in a cast and tell us what the damage is. I think his soccer season's over, and that sucks. I was impressed with his trying to look at the possible plusses to breaking his right arm (the one he writes with) and losing out on soccer. He said, "Sweet! I get out of gym class!" (his gym teacher is a real piece of work). We also joked that he could get a Ferris Bueller-like trend going on at school. He could have kids starting up collections on his behalf in no time! Girls will be all over the sympathy for him. Heh.

Poor kid. This is not an easy year for my kids. Sigh.

Update on Eyelash Curler Suckitude

2008-04-09T07:06:00.002-07:00

I'm a genius.

After dipping my hand in icewater for ten minutes in an attempt to shrink my fingers so they'd fit in my new eyelash curler, and curling my eyelashes slowly and carefully....I had an epiphany.

I took the new Cover Girl rubber filler and put it in my old Maybelline eyelash curler.

Et viola!

Why the serious hell didn't I think of it before??

Designers

2008-04-08T09:14:00.002-07:00

Seriously. I bought a new eyelash curler, Cover Girl brand this time, because Maybelline (the one I've had for years) switched from having the white refills to black, rubbery refills that have a rounded edge vs. a flat one. The strange part of the black refill is, you can be using the curler every day just fine, then the next day the black rubber refill won't stay put and pops out all over the place so you can't curl your eyelashes due to the black thing popping out at the last second right into your eye.

So unacceptable. Especially when you're used to curling your eyelashes while driving the kids to school.

The sucky thing about the Cover Girl eyelash curler is this: they designed the curler to fit the hands of a four year old. I can barely get my two fingertips into the holes of the handle, so curling my eyelashes is tricky at best. I can't imagine any adult wielding that curler comfortably, the design is that bad.

And yet...it does have the soft refill with a flat edge, so my eyelashes look good, at least. That counts for something, I suppose. I just hope that I don't have an accident where my fingertip slips off the edge of the tiny handle while I'm curling and I end up ripping out all my lashes.

Busy, I mean REALLY busy.

2008-04-03T08:12:00.002-07:00

I know I've said I was busy before, but this latest absence from my blog is really legitimate! I've been super swamped at work lately, and also have had no internet at home right now, and won't until later next week.

I'm feeling spring right now, and I'm loving the birds returning and the tulips coming out of the ground, and the warmer weather (such that it is). Soccer travels begin this weekend too, which is always fun. Montana is beautiful.

:) Happy Thursday. I'll post more quality stuff this weekend, hopefully.

Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?

2008-03-18T07:37:00.002-07:00

I heard this song by Shania Twain this morning and it reminded me of a funny story from when my son was about three or four.

Shania was singing on the radio: "Whose bed have your boots been under?" and I asked my son, "Hey! Whose bed have YOUR boots been under?"

He looked at me with a funny look and said, "I don't GOT no boots, Mom!"

We had a good laugh at that.

Now, I'm afraid to ask him that question.

Six-Word Memoir

2008-03-16T20:01:00.006-07:00

I was tagged by Cele:

Here's how this one works:
1. Write your own six-word memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
4. Tag five more blogs with links.
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play. (This last step is optional.)

To me, a memoir is something I'd want to write AFTER I've lived the majority of my life. I don't feel ready for that yet, since I feel I'm still in the middle of my journey (I hope). However, I think this six-word phrase has meaning for me now, and I hope it always will:

Life's short ~ why not enjoy it?

I'm not going to be tagging anyone specifically...I'd love to see any and all of my readers do this one.

Lovely

2008-03-11T20:52:00.002-07:00

I was sleeping on the plane, my head leaning to the left against the window frame, when I woke to the feel of the large girl beside me leaning into me. I thought it was my imagination until I felt her do it three more times. I finally opened my eyes to see her straining to look out my window.

"The pilot said you can see northern lights out there. Do you see any?"

I looked. In front of the plane was a huge display of green shafts of glowing light splashed across the sky. The light grew and shifted and receded, sometimes shining in streaks and sometimes in waves. Soon the entire sky was full of the glowing, green light.

I marveled at the sight and thrilled that I was getting such an unhindered view of the lights from my window. There's something quite magical about northern lights. The best ones I ever saw were when I was eleven, visiting my cousins in Alaska. Gorgeous. Northern lights make me so happy.

As the plane descended through the layer of clouds above the city we were landing in, the northern lights were hidden from view. It was strange to know the sky was hiding such an awesome display of nature's beauty.

I was sad I only had the stranger beside me to share the magical experience with.

She's hilarious

2008-02-26T07:25:00.001-07:00

My daughter came into my bedroom a few Sundays ago to tell me that she had seen Gordon B. Hinckley's* funeral on TV at her best friend's house the previous day. She said to me that she had almost forgotten all about Gordon B. Hinckley. I asked her if anyone tried to talk to her about him, she said no. She said the funeral was WAY LONG and BORING. I asked, "How much of it did you watch? Did any of your friend's family cry?"

"My friend's older sister almost cried. Sheesh, it was hours long, Mom! But I did think of one thing that woulda been funny. There was this one part where it was silent on the TV for a reeeeaaaally long time. I sat there thinking how hilarious it'd be if someone in the congregation stood up and started sobbing really loud into the crowd like Buuuuuhhhh Huuhhhhhhhh Huuuuhhhhhhhh!" She stood up on my bed and acted all melodramatic when she did that.

She collapsed into giggles at her own humor and so did I. She's so damn funny! Just thinking about her little 10 year old voice trying to do deep sobbing like that makes me laugh out loud again now.

*He was the president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints until his death, considered by members of the church to be a prophet of God. I wanted to wait a bit before posting this so the sadness anyone felt for his death could be dealt with before humor was brought out about it.

Memememe iiiiiiiiii.

2008-02-21T22:40:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my friend Wry Catcher for peer-pressuring me into posting this meme.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Nope. But my mom and her sister-in-law were racing to have a girl first so they could name her Lisa. Obviously Mom won. My aunt ended up naming her youngest daughter Alissa, the closest she could get to Lisa, she said.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Ummm...a month ago? Can't recall.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Sometimes. Especially when I'm the only one who can read it.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Tuna in tuna salad.

5. HAVE YOU ANY CHILDREN? 3.5 Two daughters, a son, and a wiener dog.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Probably. I'm friends with all kinds. Heh.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Um, duh. Especially when my brothers are around. Good god, that's fun.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes. Not sure why anyone would care.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Only with that special someone... You know, the one who doesn't mind if I pee my pants.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Probably Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds. Or Lucky Charms.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Yup. Again, not sure who cares. Is this the best they could come up with for a question??

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Depends on who I'm trying to carry around.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Not a huge fan, but recently discovered Ben & Jerry's Willie Nelson's Country Peach Cobbler, which is pretty damn tasty.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? In person: eyes. Online: humor, wit, and engaging writing style.

15. RED OR PINK? Red, although Pink has some killer songs I love.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? That's for me to know and you to find out. I'm guessing if you read my whole blog, you'll find at least five things to answer this question. What? FINE. You'll probably find at least ten.

17. DOG OR CAT PERSON? Dog person. I'm not into cats so much, although listening to my brother Eric talk about his cats makes my heart smile.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE YOU KNOW TO DO THIS MEME? Hell no. I hate putting people on the spot en masse.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? No shoes. Cream, red, and green plaid flannel lounge pants. Cold is not sexy.

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Ugh. McDonald's chicken nuggets just before my son's soccer game tonight. Remind me not to try that again. Ish.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The Science Channel on TV talking about forest landscapes and forest fires.

22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Forest green.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Wet wood after the rain. Fresh laundry when fabric softener has been used. My daughter's hair as she snuggles me after her bath.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SPOKE TO ON THE PHONE? My sister Kate.

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO MADE YOU DO THIS STUPID MEME? I love her guts.

26. WHICH SPORT DO YOU ENJOY WATCHING MOST? Soccer, when my son's in goal.

27. HAIR COLOR? Dark blonde

28. EYE COLOR? Blue

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACT LENSES? Only if I want to see.

30. FAVORITE FOOD? Steak (medium rare) and potatoes, when my favorite North African restaurant in Paris isn't available.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Happy endings. I'm a hopeless romantic.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Amistad.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Gray sweatshirt over white tank top. I mentioned it's cold, right?

34. SUMMER OR WINTER? I like the four seasons. Spring and fall are best.

35. HUGS OR KISSES? Yes. I suppose the better question would be VERTICAL OR HORIZONTAL?

36. FAVORITE DESSERT? Hmmm...the kind shared with friends. One dish, two (or more) spoons.

37. DAWN FRENCH OR CAROL BURNETT? Carol Burnett, since I'm too lazy right now to google who the hell Dawn French even is.

38. SPAGHETTI OR LASAGNA? TACOS OR BURRITOS? HAMBURGERS OR HOT DOGS? Spaghetti (although I do love lasagna too). Burritos. Hot Dogs.

39. WHAT BOOK(S) ARE YOU READING NOW? "Dance of the Dissident Daughter" by Sue Monk Kidd. Highly recommend this book to all. It describes very well the journey I feel I'm on as a woman.

40. WHAT’S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? My laptop has no mouse.

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? The first half of Amistad.

42. FAVORITE SOUND? Music mixes that are gifted to me.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles.

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? When I traveled to Europe. Both times.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? Oh yes. I have a few...... Am I supposed to LIST THEM??

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Utah.

And...because it truly does feel strange to stop at number 46, I shall make up a few more irrelevant questions:

47. WHY DO YOU DO MEMES? I don't know. I am a sheep.

48. BOXERS OR BRIEFS? Yes.

49. CANDLES OR INCENSE? Candles. People look better in candlelight. Besides, incense gives me a killer headache in 3.8 seconds flat.

50. MOUNTAIN CABIN OR BEACH HOUSE? Tough call. I love trees, but I think I prefer the ocean. Both, if I win the lottery.

Poor FedEx guy

2008-02-07T12:43:00.000-07:00

I was working this morning when the FedEx delivery guy walked in with a 7-foot high box. As I'm supposed to do, I walked around my reception desk to inspect the box for damage. I saw nothing wrong and he handed me his electronic tracking device to sign and said, "Looks good."

I was still signing and said, "And we love when our boxes look good, don't we?"

It wasn't until I looked up as I was handing back his pen that I realized what I'd said.

Oy.

As overheard tonight in the ladies' room

2008-02-02T20:43:00.000-07:00

Woman in Stall #1: So anyway, like, I'm a fucking clean freak, you should probably know.

Woman in Stall #2: Oh good! Me too! That'll help that we both are!!

#1: I mean, like, I'm probably OCD or something. I gotta have it spotless at all times. Seriously. All. The. Time.

#2: Me too! He totally whipped me into shape and now all I want to do is clean. I obsess. Seriously.

#1: Good. That means it should totally work out great then.

#2: Totally. That's so cool!

(They both flush and leave their stalls)

#1: I like totally need to go bra shopping too.

#2: I just need boobs, period.

#1: Oh, that too. I hate bra shopping.

#2: Totally me too.

So much for resolutions

2008-02-01T08:09:00.000-07:00

I had a resolution to try to blog more often in 2008 (maybe a New Year's resolution, maybe not ~ I prefer to keep myself non-committal on these things) and I've been pretty bad so far at writing more. I do have some ideas for what I'd like to write when I finally take the time, so at least we know it's not writer's block or anything like that.

This week, however, I have an excuse. My hell week (billing clients) got bumped up by over a week this month and I'm hauling patootie today trying to get as much done as I can. Wish me luck. I was at work until almost ten last night so I am dragging pretty good right now.

Hope the weekend is relaxing for you.

Sweet

2008-01-28T13:43:00.000-07:00

I have a large group of sparrows (I think...could be chickadees) living in the shrub at my work. I've noticed them lately as they hang out in the branches and chirp and such. One day I saw the cutest little footprints in the powdery snow beside my car, and wished I had had my camera there to capture the tracks.

Today when I arrived at work, I saw that someone had dumped a bunch of birdseed on the snowbank beside the shrub for the birds. My boss denies doing it, but I wonder if he is just trying to hide the soft spot he may have for the little flock of birds who chose to make their home here by us.

I can't deny those birds have made me happy on more than one occasion as I parked my car and just sat and watched them doing their bird thing and seeming so glad to be alive.

Shout out

2008-01-25T16:56:00.001-07:00

I had lunch today with a good friend, Meg, who reads my blog. It was a great time, and I look forward to future lunches and good times. She is into art like I am and is a fabulously outspoken woman whom I suspect I'll learn a lot from in the months to come! So fun talking with her.

Thai food is always best when shared with friends.

Friday at last

2008-01-25T09:44:00.000-07:00

Tonight I am going to go watch the new movie Juno ~ I can't wait. I've been wanting to see this movie since I first heard of it. I'm wondering if it'll take me back to my days of being a pregnant college student, unmarried and afraid.

Work is a real bitch these days. I have tons of stuff to do for year end (getting info compiled for the accountants) and also have to bump up hell week in order to get billing done before my boss leaves for vacation. The piles of year-end filing all around me are starting to seem sinister. So far I've been keeping my spirits up ~ but maybe that's because I'm trying not to think of next week.

Hope the weekend is a nice one for everyone. I really do want to continue writing about Paris...hopefully this weekend I'll write the next part.

Peace.

Had "The Talk"

2008-01-24T12:55:00.001-07:00

Last night we talked with our teen son about sex and sexuality, and it went very well, I think. I thought I'd share the list of things we outlined, printed out, and discussed with him, most of which I got from a FLAK comment made by the fabulous Anti-Molly. Thanks to her for sharing her insight which helped us immensely!

THOUGHTS ON SEXUALITY

- Remember that "normal" is as slippery as a greased pig. There's a whole lot of variation in people, male and female. And a whole lot of overlap between genders, too.

- Masturbation is normal. Girls do it, too. It's not a bad thing. It's just something to be done while you're alone and in an appropriate place.

- Sex is not dirty. It's something for adults, just like being in the military and drinking alcohol and voting and having a career.

- For many reasons (listed here), it's best to wait to have sex until you're emotionally and physically capable of handling its effects:
1. Health and safety reasons
2. Enjoy your youth and don't rush into adulthood too fast
3. Possibility of hurting your partner or being hurt by them
4. We want you to be wary of peer pressure and consider whether you are wanting to engage in sexual activity earlier than you feel ready to due to peer pressure that you would otherwise wait to do.

Some effects of having sex are:
1. Partner gaining strong feelings that you may not have in return
2. You could fall in love with your partner who may not feel the same toward you
3. Getting someone pregnant - or the worry and anxiety that happens if she is "late" having her period
4. STDs & fear of getting or spreading them
5. Emotional ramifications of being a father as a teen
6. Possible stigma of being a father as a teen
7. If your partner does get pregnant, and doesn't want the baby ~ Abortion? Adoption? Raise it as a single father?
8. Having the responsibility for another person's life and welfare (baby) can alter your entire life plan/goals
9. Will you be able to afford the (lifelong) expense of having to care for a child?
10. Some STDs have permanent, lifelong effects that can alter your quality of life

- When you decide to have sex, you need to protect yourself.

CONDOMS AT ALL TIMES. ALWAYS. EVERY TIME. It is only safe to have unprotected sex once you've been in a long-term relationship where both partners have been medically tested for AIDS and STDs and both of you have no other partners.

- You can ask me anything about sex and we will give you an honest answer. If you don't feel comfortable talking to us, we can find you a good book or you an talk to a trusted family member. Who would you trust?

- Sexuality is hard to define. So is the word "normal." Some people are heterosexual. Some are homosexual. Some are bisexual. Some people like to have sex a lot. Some don't like to have it much, if ever.

- All this doesn't mean that there's no ethics -- no right and wrong -- associated with sex and sexuality. There are limits, just like there are limits to everything. For example, obsession with anything, even something that feels good, is ultimately harmful. Or if you're hurting or taking advantage of someone physically or emotionally, that's wrong too.

- Looking and touching are different. Men and women both notice and appreciate nice specimens of their preferred sex, but it doesn't mean they love their significant other any less, nor does it mean they intend to be unfaithful. But a considerate partner will consider your feelings when deciding whether to talk about their observations or make them obvious to you or others.

- Bodies vary widely. Some parts are bigger, smaller, hairy-er, more or less sensitive, shaped differently, and colored differently on different people. What you see on TV is a skewed stereotype that only represents a few people. You can and should find beauty in your body and in the bodies of others, including the person you love. Be sensitive when commenting about other people's bodies, whether you like them or not.

- Respect your partner always. Listen to them when they tell you they are not comfortable doing something, and don't do it or pressure your partner to do something they are not comfortable doing. If they want you to try something that you do not want to do, you should say no and that should be OK. Remember that NO MEANS NO. You do NOT do anything if you hear your partner say no.

Respecting your partner also means that you do not kiss and tell. Ever. What you share with a sexual partner should only be between you and that person. Even if your partner discusses you with others does not make it OK for you to discuss the details of your private moments with your friends or anyone. You gain nothing from doing this and it brings down the reputation of your partner. Remember you marry who you date, so you don't want your friends knowing for life what your partner did with you in private. And nobody needs the mental image of you having sex. You do not want to be someone who plays a part in ruining another person's reputation either.

- Use of alcohol or other drugs can lower your inhibitions and ability to make smart decisions for yourself. Sometimes being under the influence of drugs/alcohol can make you feel it's OK to engage in sexual activity which you would never otherwise do while sober. Be very careful because actions have very real consequences.

Colder than a. . .

2008-01-22T09:06:00.000-07:00

You know it’s cold when your teenager actually wears his winter coat to school. You know it’s DAMN COLD when he admits he’s going to brave eating school lunch in the cafeteria for the first time this year because he doesn’t want to go outside to get fast food.

-25 degrees Farenheit with the windchill today. I actually have a snowdrift on the floor inside my office door where the snow gusts in through the gaps ~ and it’s apparently cold enough inside not to melt. The wind is howling and whistling at my door ~ the perfect sound effect to the cold I'm experiencing.

I damn near got stuck in a snow pile beside the sidewalk as I dropped him off at school. The snowplows only clear the main streets, so side streets like those surrounding schools are ignored and cars are left with the daunting task of plowing through huge piles of snow. Turning your car off the main plowed street onto a side street isn’t good either because the pile of snow the plows leave at the entrance to the side streets is thick. I admit it is kind of fun to fishtail out of control a little while plowing through the muck, but that hardly makes up for the rest of the inconveniences bitter cold weather produces.

We actually had to shovel off some grass for our poor dachshund. He whines, quivers, shakes, and refuses to go near the back door in the morning during weather like this.

He learned that from me.

Listening

2008-01-11T09:16:00.000-07:00

I don’t know if it was the really long and stressful day at work, or my exhaustion due to going to bed late and getting up early every day for over a week (among other emotionally exhausting events), but last night I was low enough to actually hear my son when he told me that I am often impossible to talk to, and I make people feel bad when I think I know everything and I lecture and go off and never hear what the other person is saying. He said that often when he’s most unhappy it has stemmed from interaction with me. I’ve heard similar words before, but have always been able to deny such truths to myself and brush it off as normal teen angst.

But last night, as I sat there and looked in his eyes, and truly listened to what he was and was not saying, I didn’t let myself not hear him. And it hurt. Hurt so damn bad.

I was immediately transported to my own teen years and recalled how impossible my dad was to talk to. He was so cutting with his words, and never wrong, and the lectures...holy hell, the LECTURES he would give! He could be so condescending to me. And I forced myself to actually look at myself openly and I realized that my son is right. It brought me to my knees, and I was devastated.

I am determined to change that part of me and become someone who can truly listen to understand, and not be so condescending to those people I love.

It’s damn good I finally found a good therapist. This won't be easy.

Is this true?

2008-01-06T23:39:00.001-07:00

Henry David Thoreau wrote, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation."

Do you believe this? Why or why not?

(from Walden, 1854)

It's snowing again

2007-12-31T11:55:00.000-07:00

Pumping gas in the freezing cold while the snow falls heavily sucks ass. Just sayin'.

Updates and stuff

2007-12-28T09:01:00.001-07:00

Christmas came and went, with the usual fun times watching the kids and their joy at opening their (many) gifts. Time spent with family was per tradition...good food, lots of gifts, games played, laughter.

I had to return to work the day after Christmas, and have been attempting to cram 40 hours worth of work into three days. It's been fun, let me tell ya. Not sure if we are taking off next week Monday as well as Tuesday, but I may work Monday anyway just to make my life a bit easier. Year-end stuff is adding to my usual work which is always a joy. (...do you like how I'm trying to convince myself here? Truth is, it kinda sucks but I'm avoiding saying that aloud. It helps).

I have been neglecting writing my own thoughts in my blog, but hope to write more often here as my only New Years resolution. I like it. What do you think? I generally avoid making resolutions at all for myself, recognizing that for me they are a futile endeavor anyway. If I see something that needs changing, I'm gonna just do it now, if it's that important to me. Or I'm gonna at least talk about doing it now...queen of procrastination that I am. Ha!

I wish you all a very good New Year and hope that you all find the happiness you deserve. This I wish for you above all else.

If I were free of all fear, I would...Guest Post #6

2007-12-23T19:56:00.000-07:00

Having died (no vital signs) 4 times in this life and having my family brutally murdered in front of me, with me killing one of the murderers, I have little left to fear.

My one great fear is of being disabled. I have a touch of that from this latest stroke, where half my body still doesn't work too well (I'm typing this with one hand at about 30wpm), but I am terrified of being trapped in this body unable to communicate or do anything. My best friend's father was in that state for several months. His only communication was by the look in his eyes; he didn't even have the muscular control to blink 'yes' and 'no.' But he could cry. There are many definitions of hell; surely this must be one of them.

If I had no fear, I'd throw away all the stupid pills I take every day and just let nature take its course.

Mai (Harinder Kaur)

Some see things as they are and ask, Why?
I dream things that never were and ask, Why not?
Bobby Kennedy

Other blog links for Mai: Sometimes - 2 and The Road to Khalistan

Happy Holidays!

2007-12-21T08:27:00.000-07:00

May your holidays be filled with joy, love, and happiness this year!

I want to send you all a personal greeting card from SML, but since I can't, this will have to do. I have enjoyed this last year getting to know you. Perhaps more importantly, I've enjoyed getting to know myself better with your help, so thank you for that! I feel like blogging has helped me to grow as a person, and I feel for the first time that I'm actually steering my own ship. It's pretty cool.

I hope you are all able to enjoy whatever celebrations you have in the coming weeks, and that you realize that you are special to me in ways you may never know.

(PS ~ I wanted to and even tried to get a pretty image of a snowflake onto this post, but it kept failing on me so I bagged it. It's the thought that counts...)

If I were free of all fear, I would...Guest Post #5

2007-12-19T23:52:00.000-07:00

free from fear

fear is the feeling, the false reality, the insidiousness that binds us, fetters us, keeps us stuck

fear of what is out there away from the shelter and support of family weighs heavy on me…family fears for me, wants me to stay close, discounts my happiness in favor of what is frightening…this fear is a direct outgrowth of religious training, which is rooted in fear as a mechanism to keep adherents on the straight and narrow, holding to the rod, contemplating every possible consequence to the point of debilitating standstill…all in an effort to achieve perfection and immortality…all while letting life pass me by

free from fear

if i were, i would sell all that i have and follow my bliss…my bliss would be “making it up” as i move along…i would be a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker…i would open a card shop, a gift shop, a flower shop, a book shop, a cakes and cookies shop…i would write children’s books, coloring books, novels, erotica…i would go back to school and climb mountains and swim oceans and become wise…i would only work for me and never answer to anyone ever again…i would learn to do well the things i love best: cooking, writing, capturing beauty in word, picture, and paint…i would buy a vw van and live in it, worrying only about gas and food and where to bathe; no utility bills, no mortgage payment, no settling, and being stuck in one place…i would be a vagabond and stop worrying about responsible stability

free from fear

if i were, i would stand up to my parents and clearly articulate to them who i am and why i have made the choices i’ve made in my life…i would resign my membership in the church and do it without regret…i would never question again whether i’ve made the right choices and whether i’m going to hell or whether god loves me…i would never worry about whether i’m enough and i would stop worrying about how to avoid upsetting my family or hurting their feelings while suppressing my own…i would never again apologize for who i am

free from fear

if i were, i would go to berlin and london and rome, delhi and beijing and moscow, yellowknife and macchu picchu and patagonia, kinshasa and tangier and istanbul, taos and fargo and niagara…i would breath in their beauty…in the darkness i inhabit, i would walk the avenues of paris, hand in hand…in the luminescence of the city of lights, my darkness would melt away and my heart would grow warm and passionate again…you would be there…i would be there…the energy would be palatable…but real…and i would embrace it without fear

free from fear

if i were, i would free my better half…we stay together out of fear, false security, ease…i would free us from each other…then, i would find my way to the one i love, have always loved, still love…i would stand on her doorstep and to her and the neighbors and the world around declare, i love you…i would not fear whether she would love me in return or send me packing…i would only fear not saying those words…i love you

if i were…

If I were free from all fear, I would... Posts on Other Blogs (Updated)

2007-12-19T17:18:00.000-07:00

A couple of online friends have been brave and posted their thoughts on this subject on their own blogs, and they are worth sharing here.

FtA at Emerging From the Ashes

Sillynut at He Gave Me My Eyes, That I Might See

Angie at Touch of the Phoenix

Cele at Oh Joy, It's Me

JulieAnn at Ravings of a Mad Woman

Sideon at Sideon's Sanctuary

Chandelle at Our Organic Life

If I missed any others, please email me so I can link to your blog. I am LOVING your thoughts and daring, my friends. Thanks for sharing.

**Edited to type Chandelle's name correctly. I seriously thought I DID type it the right way with a D, and hadn't. *blushing* How embarrassing!**

Been busy...

2007-12-18T09:40:00.001-07:00

I have been pretty busy lately, unable to take time to post on my blog. I still have a ton of memories to share from my trip to Paris...that will be coming soon. With pictures, even!

I've been enjoying all the thoughts on what you'd do if you were free of all fear! Thanks so much to those of you who shared your posts on your blogs and to those who posted here. I am impressed by your raw honesty and heartfelt introspection, and I feel lucky to associate with such wonderful people cyberly. (Is cyberly a word??)

I finally got my work Christmas cards out, addressed almost 200 of them by hand, as well as addressing around 50 gift certificates. Amazingly, I also got my own greeting cards filled out and now just need to mail them. Any overseas friends will get them after Christmas, sadly. But at least they will know I am thinking of them.

My ten-year old daughter made a gingerbread house at home a couple nights ago, it looks awesome! I'll get a photo of it and post it if I remember. She basically did it herself. So cute. Today I'll go to her school and make another one with her. I look forward to it. She's very creative and it's fun to watch her shine. She and I love to do artistic things together. When we are at the ceramics place, we both sit there focused intently on our art, and we hardly speak. Bliss! Other people watch us and probably wonder how we can be so boring and quiet...

I've got all my Christmas gift wrapping to do still, which I had planned to do this weekend but a horrible migraine prevented me from doing it. Oy, I hate headaches. Last night we had a music concert for my 14 year old son ~ my youngest and I laughed silently throughout the concert as we made faces at each other to the music! so fun ~ and tonight is a Christmas party for my husband's work, so I guess tomorrow I can hit the wrapping hot and heavy. We may have a birthday dinner for my 22 year old daughter Thursday night. Somewhere in there I will also be shopping a bit more.

I can do this, right?

If I were free of all fear, I would...Guest Post #4

2007-12-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

If I were free of fear I would see my vulnerability as strength. I could love my wife more fully without worrying if I will get anything in return. I could give compassion completely to anyone without wanting reciprocity . If I were free of fear I would tell that anonymous woman that I think she is beautiful, I could flirt, and not feel guilty. Free of fear I would not be worried about how I look when trying to ride a skateboard, a surf board, walking down the street. I could be homeless and eating out of dumpsters. I could talk to my LDS cousins without the nagging feeling that I am a total loser.

Free of fear I could leave the church I was brought up in, (did that) completely; I could write my thoughts and opinions and post them where total strangers could see them and comment on them. (hey......I do that too....so did all of you. cheers! you fearless people)

Wayne

beatdad.blogspot.com

If I were free of all fear, I would...Guest Post #3

2007-12-13T13:07:00.000-07:00

If I were free of all fear (and guilt), I would....

Pack a suitcase of clothing for my children and I, leave my husband a "Dear John" letter and walk out the door. I'd find a bungalow downtown to live in and I wouldn't be afraid of living alone with my small children. They could play on the street with their friends all day long and be safe.
I'd tell my parents, to their face, that I resigned my membership from the church and explain in detail why I left.
I'd hold my head up high and tell people that I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and I wouldn't care about their reaction. They wouldn't show me pity, they would just understand.
I would find a job that required me to be creative, artistic and then throw myself into my work. I'd go back to school, just for fun. There would not longer be "have tos", I would only have "want tos".
I'd drive my car as fast as I want to, music blaring and I'd let my hair blow wildly in the 35 degree wind. When I get pulled over, I'd pay the handsome police officer off by having incredible sex in the back of my car on the side of the highway. I'd write my name and phone number in the steam on the windows afterward.
I would dance naked in my kitchen (which I do now), with the blinds up and without fear of the neighbors gawking. I would sing loudly, and maybe a little off key, but it would be from my heart.
I would sun bathe naked during the summer and get a tan without lines. I'd put blond streaks in my hair and go out dancing with my friends. I'd wear a tight red dress and let my breasts overflow... there would be no fear of men staring. I'd let my sexuality just be and learn how to strip and grind my body against the pole.
I'd travel the world, meeting friends, making friends and just enjoying other cultures. I would stay as long as I like, without consequence. There would be no itinerary, I would plan nothing... just go by feeling.
I'd fly to Paris and meet my extended family. I've never met them and I want to.
I'd meet an attractive man in an elevator...rather then turn my eyes away, I would look at his deep blue eyes and make the first move. We'd go to his hotel room and make love (or screw like rabbits, whichever I choose) all night long. I would have no fear of STDs or pregnancy. His only desire would be to please me.
I would say "Fuck" more often, in front of who ever I wanted, without fear or consequence.
I'd tell my mother what I really do and how I feel, instead of sugar coating everything so she can live in her Mormon bliss.
I'd wear slippers and pajamas all day and not feel guilty or think I'm lazy.
If I was free of fear, I would take more time for myself, do more for myself and love myself more.

Enlightened Fairy

If I were free of all fear, I would...Guest Post #2

2007-12-12T08:38:00.000-07:00

Let me just preface this by saying that on the outside, I am fearless. I have adrenaline and dare in spades when it comes to the physical. Skydiving? Boring. Bungee jumping? Yawn. Public speaking? For sissies. But being vulnerable? That scares the shit out of me. Can I say shit? Well, I did. And it does.

If I were free from all fear, I would do what I love for a living. I'd stop it with this Corporate America crap and throw myself into my photography and into teaching. I'd apply for that doctorate program I have my eye on and stop hedging because I'm nervous about having a safety net. I'd travel the world and take pictures of every pretty flower, every beautiful bridge, and every gorgeous person I see.

If I were free from all fear, I would be myself - my whole self - around my family and old friends. I'd stop being a watered-down version because I wouldn't be worried about rejection. I'd tell my parents that I actually learned more about unconditional love and integrity after I stopped going to their church. I'd tell my family that my being gay isn't evil, but their efforts to get me to conform are. I'd tell them that they have nothing to be afraid of.

If I were free from all fear, I would spend more time being still. I'd let myself just feel my emotions as they come up instead of constantly doing something to drown them out.

If I were free from all fear, I would spike the eggnog at my family Christmas party. At every family party, actually. I'd at least sneak a flask for myself.

If I were free from all fear, I would stand up for myself more. I'd accept that yes, I'm a really nice person - but that doesn't mean I have to sacrifice my wants. I'd understand that it's okay to be an asshole sometimes. In a business setting, I have no problem saying what's on my mind. But if I were free from fear, I'd do myself a favor and do that with the people I love, too. They mean the most to me anyway, and that would probably improve my relationships.

If I were free from all fear, I'd go out to dinner and order something crazy. I'd stop playing it safe, even with the menu. I'd have one too many drinks, spend a little too much, and stay up a little too late dancing my ass off. I'd request Britney Spears.

If I were free from fear, I would have more faith in myself. I'd let myself be as smart, as daring, and as amazing as I want to be. I'd follow my outburst from when I was four, when I shouted, "I don't WANT to be reverent!" in the middle of church. I'd stop thinking that my life has to fit nicely and neatly into a little perfectly-wrapped box. I'd let my past mistakes go and be a little easier on myself because my life has been one hell of a ride so far. I'd let go of one trapeze before I reached out for the next ...

LG

If I were free of all fear, I would...Guest Post #1

2007-12-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

If I were free of all fear:

I would:

Not worry about how much money there is (or isn't) in my bank account and just live

Climb up the steep, metal-grate stairs to the top of the old powerhouse with you to watch the fireworks from the edge of the roof during winter carnival

Have a real orgasm, not fake one after just a few minutes because I am scared to let my husband know how long it really takes me to come and it's been so long now I just can't tell him I have always faked...

How can I expect you to do it if I'm too scared to?

2007-12-11T08:46:00.000-07:00

Here is my writing from months ago which I wrote when I was asked what I'd do if I were free of all fear. I figured that it was pretty lame to ask you to post about your fears if I can't do it too. Of course, you are able to do so anonymously here, whereas I'm putting myself out there somewhat. So be kind, please. This isn't easy.

If I were magically free of all fear, I would swim naked in the ocean. . .in daylight. . .with my friends. . .with large sharks swimming around me. . .in water over my head. . .and I'd calmly let the currents pull me into the deeper water until the shore was no longer in view. Hell, if I were fearless I'd swim AT ALL.

I'd go dancing in high heels and a little black dress, and I would dance alone in the middle of the floor, my arms raised high and my hair and hips swaying to the music, and I would relish all eyes on me. I would accept the drink bought by the handsome stranger across the room, and I'd confidently charm him and would later enjoy our one-night-stand. I would return home the next morning without regret.

If I were magically free of all fear, I would quit my day job (my awesome day job that allows me to blog a lot) and I'd become the artist I know I am. I'd laugh in the face of rejections and I'd damn well shine. I'd approach the best galleries to sell my art.

I'd eat alone in my favorite restaurant, and then I'd go to the movies alone too. Afterward, I'd walk to my car with confidence that nobody bad was lurking in the dark shadows near my car. I'd roll down my windows and crank up the volume and I'd sing along. . .You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel. . .

If I were magically free of all fear, I'd book a trip to Austria immediately so I could visit my LDS host family I abandoned for 12 years after being afraid to tell them I got pregnant at BYU, and I'd tell them (in person this time) that their adoptive daughter left the church, and why. I'd say it with caring and with confidence that their love for me is secure. I'd also book a month-long trip with my host sister to heal the wounds I caused by not calling, writing, or staying in touch from the time she was 13 to when she was 25. I was her only "sister" and I really let her down. I'd attempt to make it up to her bigtime.

I'd write a novel. A very good novel.

I'd tell people what I really feel and not worry that they'll think less of me for my honesty. I'd also do it with style.

I'd take myself and my kids to a counselor and we'd learn how to communicate better, if I were free of all fear. I'd encourage my husband to do the same. If I were free of all fear, I'd say what I really mean and I'd mean what I say, and I wouldn't worry about the ramifications of doing so, which are probably all in my mind anyhow. I'd walk away from people who consistently hurt me with their words, because I would have no fear that my happiness isn't worth fighting for or that I don't deserve to be happy.

If I were magically free of all fear, I'd walk up to Dubya and tell him what I really think of his fucking bumbling ineptitude.

If I were magically free of all fear, I'd take the chance to meet each and every one of you as I travel the world to gather experiences and reference material for my art and my writing. Oh, who am I kidding?? I'd meet every one of you because I love you and feel like you have made me whole. And I'd tell you that to your face, because I fear nothing.

If you were fearless, what would YOU do?

If I were free of all fear, I would...

2007-12-10T15:23:00.000-07:00

I have an idea that I'd like to try with the help of my friends who read my blog. Once a very good friend gave me the assignment to write about this topic:

If I were free of all fear, I would...

I posted it elsewhere, and it was raw and scary and amazing to write about my fears and to interact with others about them from the relative anonymity of the internet. So I hereby propose that it'd be cool for anyone who wishes to anonymously send me their thoughts on this topic, and I'll post them here for anyone to read and comment on. Trust me, this is way cool to do. It puts you in touch with yourself in a way that is not common, and I was so glad I did it.

If you're interested, send me your thoughts on what you'd do if you were free of all fear to sistermarylisa@gmail.com (use Fear as your subject line or something so I don't think it's spam) ~ your identity will remain anonymous (unless you specify otherwise) and I will probably post one at a time. Not only will this be fun for you, it'll revive my blog that has been sadly neglected while I've been buried at work. And if you should choose to do this and not send it to me, that's good too.

Good luck, and happy writing.

Vanity Plates....Oy.

2007-12-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

Yet another sighting of a vanity plate in my ongoing saga with vanity plates that just had to be shared...

CHSE HED

I'm certain that this vehicle owner didn't actually think before doing this, considering the three Jesus fish symbols on the back of the car, and the bumper sticker that read "Let Jesus in the Schools" And perhaps I need more Jesus in my life, but seriously...I saw that license and two things came to mind first:

CHASE HEAD

CHOOSE HEAD

I obviously need to get back to work and get my mind out of the gutter.

Paris: Arc de Triomphe

2007-12-02T21:46:00.001-07:00

Montchan and I finished shopping and we returned to our apartment where Genilimaa was waiting for us, eating baguette bread and brie cheese. We snacked on the bread for awhile until Tari called to tell us she had arrived! We ran out to let her in and greet her, and we were thrilled to finally be together at last after months of looking forward to this!

She got settled and we decided to find a restaurant for dinner. We found one a block or so away and enjoyed a good time talking and laughing and hearing about everyone's travel experiences and lives. It was fun to discover that the women I had enjoyed getting to know through their blogs were much like I expected. Each of them were beautiful and fun to be around, and I enjoyed getting to know them in person. Montchan is an American woman who grew up in South Africa (her accent came as a surprise to me, I don't know why!) who now lives in Sweden where her husband works. Genilimaa is a Swedish woman who lives in the same town as Montchan. They met after the local newspaper reported about Montchan's blog. Tari is an Indonesian woman who lives in Tokyo ~ she was in Paris to conduct a conference for her work, and this was what brought the two from Sweden to Paris to have a girls' weekend, which resulted in an invitation to me. I'm so happy I met them in person. Finding such good friends is priceless to me.

Those first two days I didn't drink any alcoholic drinks because I was still pretty tired due to jet lag, and drinks make me sleepy sometimes and I didn't want to risk it. I enjoyed eating and talking ~ I think that dinner was very late (my memories are already somewhat hazy detail-wise) and was surprised when someone said it was after 11:00 pm while we ate. After dinner we walked back to our apartment and crashed for the night.

The next morning we got up and ate breakfast then headed out to buy tickets for the Metro, and then took the subway to the Arc de Triomphe, where Tari planned to meet with a friend whom she wanted to visit.
Emerging from the Metro just below the Arc de Triomphe.

We stood in the cold wind underneath the arches, reading the names on the walls and taking photos and laughing and planning what we'd do for the rest of the day. Genilimaa and I planned to visit The Louvre, while Montchan planned to shop some more (at The Gap, no less...something about her husband needing some specific clothes and The Gap not being anywhere near them in Sweden ~ we had a good laugh at that considering all the shopping opportunities in Paris). Eventually Tari's friend arrived and we all went our separate ways.

Tari, Genilimaa, and Montchan

I made my friends pose for about a thousand photos to try to get good photos like this one. Isn't it great?! Thanks for being such good sports about it!

Seven Weird Things ~ Tagged Again

2007-11-23T09:59:00.000-07:00

Sumwun tagged me to share seven weird things about myself again...I have to wonder why I'm always tagged on the sharing weirdnesses posts. I have shared more weird things about myself than I care to admit.

1. Every time I get out of my car at the grocery store, I walk away from the car and hit the door lock button on my key thing at least three times. I hear the honk and the headlights flash but I still have to do this three times. Sometimes I even turn around to watch it happen.

2. My pinkie finger on my right hand is as big as my middle finger. It looks unnatural, and I am so self-conscious of it. I have no idea why it's malformed. It kind of makes writing with pens and pencils difficult. Thank goodness it doesn't affect my drawing, though.

3. Watching men's individual figure skating during the Olympics is a real turn-on for me. Am I the only one who thinks those outfits and moves are sexy?

4. I had a Tina Turner hairstyle in 7th grade. I thought she was so beautiful. I often danced to her Private Dancer song alone in my bedroom, but only when my dad was out of town, since he thought she was a tramp and evil.

5. I never pump my own gas. I won't do it. Do you have any idea how many germs are on those pump handles?! Dart finds this a nuisance at times, but I don't care. I will not pump my own gas. He can do it.

6. It never fails ~ every morning when I first wake up, the song from Oklahoma goes through my head: "Oh what a beautiful mooorning, oh what a beautiful day. I've got a wonderful feeeeling, everything's going my way!"

7. I made up all these weird things. None of them are true.

;)

Life as a Goddess...or...Thankful I'm Not One

2007-11-22T00:26:00.000-07:00

I wanted to share my response to Reformed_Egyptian's question to women on FLAK about what they felt being a goddess in the next life entailed. Here is what I think it will be like if the LDS church is teaching the truth about the nature of God...

You say you haven't given the subject a ton of thought, and I can't blame you as it's obvious that the entire focus is placed on God and Godhood, not goddess and goddesshood. I can tell you that being married to a non-member makes a woman like me keenly aware of this subject. I came to realize over time that I had a few possible scenarios available to reach salvation and become a goddess:

1. Outlive my husband and seal myself to him posthumously, and risk his saying no way again like he did when he received the discussions in this life.
2. Divorce my husband and find a TBM man willing to seal himself to me.
3. Be as righteous as I can and endure to the end, and in the next life find some stranger and become his second, third, or hundredth wife. Remain hopeful that my children will also get sealed in the temple someday to their own spouse and endure to the end so perhaps God will let their mansion be next door to mine in the celestial kingdom. Hope also that my never-mo stepdaughter will someday join as well, so I will be able to live with her in eternity also.

What does actual goddesshood mean to me? I can only guess from the example I've been given about God by the teachings of the gospel:

I will have countless children with my husband in the next life. We will love all our children very much. (I am not going to portray any sister wives in my example here, to make it easy. That is a whole post unto itself.) My husband will choose two favored sons who will be asked to outline what they think my husband requires of them in his plan for all his children…one will guess slightly wrong and my husband will banish him as well as one third of all our children who thought his guess was right. The other son will guess correctly and will be favored and blessed. Together, my husband and the chosen favorite son will create a new world where my husband will send our children after taking their memory of me and him completely away. My husband’s plan includes only telling a select few of our boy children (whom he makes prophets) to tell our other children that he expects them to do certain ordinances in the temple in order to live in the celestial kingdom with us. Those of our children who don’t get the ordinances completed as per my husband’s plan will live in a lesser kingdom which I will not be able to visit.

My children will learn a song as mortal children: “I am a child of God….and HE has sent me here….” They will be taught that they must honor, obey, and worship almighty God in all ways if they wish to live with us again. My husband will command our children to always remember him and to keep his commandments. He will command our children to pray to him always, to thank him for all their blessings, all glory to his name. I will not be mentioned in any of the important books and doctrine that my children are told they need in order to be saved. He will teach our children that it is good and right for our sons to have authority and dominion over all the earth, and they will be given the power to act in their father’s name and will be told they preside over their families.

He will teach our children that it is good and right for our daughters to have only one valid role to aspire toward: being a mother in Zion. They will be taught by my husband that in order to prove their love to him, they must embrace this one role and nurture all their children to the best of their ability. But for some reason, my husband chooses not to show our children my nurturing skills. They will have no example of my nature as a guide to follow.

But wait! There is that one song among hundreds of hymns which glorify my husband as God ~ ”O My Father” which mentions me once:

”In the heav’ns are parents single?
No, the thought makes reason stare!
Truth is reason; truth eternal
Tells me I’ve a mother there.”

Not sure how that one line is helpful to my children, but hey! It’s something. And I love music, but of course my children won’t know that about me either. And when any of our children think of me enough to actually pray to me publicly…well. That’s a huge no-no. My husband doesn’t like this. My sons who have the power to act in my husband’s name will admonish any of my children who dare to pray to me openly, and if they won’t cease such a practice, they will be punished, seriously risking their chance to live in my presence again someday in the top level of heaven.

When my children finish their mortal testing, they will be made to stand before my husband and his favorite son, who will together judge each of my children to determine which is worthy to live in the celestial kingdom and which will not. I will not be part of the judging process. In all their sinning on earth, my children were expected to pray to my husband for forgiveness and mercy, I had nothing whatever to do with any of that. This is sad, since I am merciful, loving, and kind, and a good judge of my children’s hearts. I also know that my children who don’t make it to the top level of heaven will never be allowed to see me or my husband because we will not visit the lesser kingdoms. Those children will be alone for eternity. Too bad.

The truth is, if this is the way it is to be for me as a goddess, I much prefer to be single and alone in hell than married to such a man as God at my side who has no problem keeping me as an unmentionable afterthought in the lives of our children.

Paris: Apartment

2007-11-18T17:25:00.000-07:00

After getting our hair done, Montchan and I found another taxi and we headed for the train station where we planned to meet Genilimaa before heading to the rental company to get the keys to our apartment. I was amazed at the traffic in Paris! I thought Utah drivers were bad. In Paris you might see there are two lanes marked on the road (if there are markings at all), yet four lanes are crammed up into the two, not including the motorcycles that roar through between the lanes. It’s insane. I think Paris taxi drivers are some pretty amazing drivers to do what they do. I would be so stressed out if I had to drive in traffic like it. Wow!

We got to Gare du Nord train station, and tried to find the Tourism Office Genilimaa told us was across the street, but we had no luck and got tired of my luggage again, so we found a little café there and sat down to wait. We called Gen who arrived shortly thereafter.
We had a yummy apple tart pastry and some tea until she arrived. When she did, she also had tea then we made our way to the apartment. She was a bundle of energy and was fun to finally meet in person! It really is great to put a face and personality with the blog persona. Another taxi ride to the office, then on to our apartment.

Our apartment was located at 29 Rue Rambuteau, a great area very close to shopping and Metro and the Pompidou Center, which we first thought was a parking garage, humorously enough. We entered the code to open the outer door, which opened into a tiled entryway with mailboxes. It was totally dark until we found the light switch, and we went forward and entered the second code to get through another door. Beyond that was a regular sized door requiring no code which led to a curving, old wooden staircase. It was fortunate that Montchan’s luggage hadn’t arrived, because she helped me schlep the luggage up to the second floor where for the next twenty minutes we tried to get our key to work to no avail. We were laughing and frustrated and swearing, and finally we resorted to sweet-talking and caressing the door in an effort to make the lock open the damn door. Genilimaa had been told the key was tricky by the office where we got the key, so she went back out to the street to phone them and find out the trick to opening it.

SML and Genilimaa trying to get the damn door unlocked

We finally got it open after about twenty minutes, and we entered a cute little apartment that looked to be perfect for our stay. It was so exciting! Upon opening the door, we walked through into a hallway that we could see led past a kitchen area into the living room which had quaint French windows that faced across the alley/street into another building with similar windows facing ours. Just to the left of the entrance door was a bedroom with floor-to-ceiling closet mirrors on the opposite wall, and a king sized bed covered in a white down comforter which immediately reminded me of my bed in Austria which had a similar comforter on it when I lived there. There was a somewhat mildewy smell which came from the bathroom beside the bed, which obviously had leaky problems in the wall beside the toilet. But it appeared clean and cozy and we were very happy. The couches in the living room were red futons, and there was a coffee table and lamps and stools by the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room which fit right in.
The ceilings were high and we were all happy we had chosen to rent the apartment, as it was only 37 Euro per night per person, much cheaper than the hotel which cost over 100 Euro per night per person.

Montchan and I went shopping for clothes (since her luggage hadn’t arrived) while Genilimaa stayed behind to buy breakfast groceries at one of the little markets across the street from our building. Tari was due to arrive around dinnertime, so we had some time. It was awesome to walk the streets of Paris and see the sights first hand vs. on television or in pictures. I loved how we had a grocery store, a deli, a bakery, shops, and restaurants all around us near our apartment…it was so convenient and so fun to step out onto the narrow little street lined with bumper-to-bumper little cars, and look up to see the blooming plants and vines from the quaint and charming windows and know that I was in Paris! The smells were so reminiscent of Vienna and the distant sound of police cars which are so different from those in the states, and the many people walking in all directions in stylish hats and scarves and jackets made me so glad I had done this crazy thing.

Paris: Salon Visit

2007-11-17T12:02:00.000-07:00

Montchan and I were so damn glad to have finally found each other, and we were both so tired from our flights and adventures that we chose to take a taxi to our next destination: our hair appointment in Paris which we hoped wasn’t lost because we were two hours late. Her luggage had not arrived in Paris with her, so she was bummed about that. We got dropped off and she found the salon by remembering the area from the last time she had been there (and by asking some nice guys in a grocery store where they thought it might be), and she went inside to see if they could fit us in while I stood outside with my three pieces of luggage.

Three pieces of luggage, you ask? Why, yes. I had a suitcase type carry-on, a suitcase for my clothes, and a suitcase containing items Taiko Tari and Montchan had requested from the US, such as a queen-sized buckwheat pillow, a two-man tent, a large box of Bounce fabric softener sheets, 17 pairs of Victoria’s Secret undies, and some dental floss. It felt crazy having that much luggage for four and a half days, and it was such a pain lugging it down the beautiful streets of Paris, and into the tiny salon once they said we could have our hair done even though we had missed our appointments. They were so kind.

Montchan having her hair cut by Steve

I admit I was embarrassed by my hair being so nappy…I had flown for what felt like days and felt all greasy and gross. My stylist, whose name is Warren, washed my hair while Montchan had hers washed too, and then I was sitting in a chair in front of the mirror, trying to tell him what I’d like, but I think I was talking too fast so in the end I simply said my hair was limp, and I needed more body. He said in a very charming accent “Body? More body?” only his accent made the word body sound like “Bow day.” In the end, I said I trust him to make me beautiful and give my hair body. He began to cut.in silence while Montchan and I occasionally talked during our cuts. We enjoyed the look of the place: wood floors, pink walls, ceiling painted in metallic gold, stylish and fabulous gay guys cutting our hair, two dogs walking around underfoot, and a fixture on the wall that is best shown rather than described:

I know I will NEVER find one of these in Montana, even though I’ve seen thousands of them hanging here. I love it.

Warren, my stylist

My hair was finished first, and Warren had done the impossible: he had given my hair body! I loved it. They allowed us to take pictures, and we gave them our blog addresses so they could see themselves on our blogs. Warren plans someday in the next five years to head to Miami and live and work. He’ll succeed wherever he goes, he’s great! His was the best haircut I've ever had.

Now if only I could figure out how to get back there every three months to have my hair done...

Paris: Arrival

2007-11-15T09:13:00.000-07:00

The thing I forgot about international travel is how great the people-watching is. I left Montana half an hour later than scheduled due to a delay, that fortunately didn’t hinder my following flights. It was a quick trip to Denver where I sat next to a kid who said he was in 9th grade (14?) but who looked to be about 12. He was very friendly and was headed to a Catholic youth conference in Ohio. I had about half an hour before boarding the next flight to Washington, D.C. On that flight, I sat next to a woman who was headed back to Vermont where she grew up, although she did spend some time living in San Diego. We had an interesting discussion and I learned things about her and I could tell she was someone I would be friends with if we lived close. In D.C. I spent an hour sitting and watching the masses of interesting people walk by me. I love to speculate about their lives, and let me tell you, I come up with some great stories when I take the time to sit and watch and wonder.

All my layovers were shorter than 1.5 hours each, and lucky for me, each new terminal was only one or two away from the previous one I came from which made it smooth and simple for me.

The flight to Paris from D.C. was interesting. I sat between one woman who was headed to Paris for the third time this year, going to visit her daughter who works there, whose husband is a stay-at-home dad. She beamed telling me she about spending ten days with her granddaughters. The woman on my right was a bit more reserved, because after making small-talk for a minute, she fell asleep and then so did I. I had hoped to sleep the entire flight in an effort to eliminate jet lag, since I arrived at 6:20 a.m. Paris time. The woman to my right woke up in the last hour, as did I, and we had a very interesting and thoughtful conversation about religion (she asked what my connection was with the different women I was spending time with in Paris, and I admitted that I knew them through blogging ~ ex-Mormons making up the majority of them, although none of us blog solely about being ex-Mormon). Her name is Carole (hi, Carole, if you are reading this!) and she’s a fascinating woman (doctor in Oregon with French parents) who will hopefully read my blog (she said she’d check it out) and who will stay in contact that way or through emails. She really made that flight enjoyable for me, as well as standing in line to have our passports stamped, and standing at the baggage claim area too. She was another woman I think I’d love to become friends with if we lived in the same town and I had met her in the usual ways in person.

While I had been in the airport in Denver, I saw I had a voicemail and it was Montchan, informing me that our master plan of her arriving in Paris the night before and meeting me at the airport so we could go back to her hotel to shower and prepare for the day went awry when she got stuck in Amsterdam due to a hole in her airplane (!!!). I made my way to the United Airlines desk where she had hoped to leave me a message with her arrival times, but I called Dartman first who was glad I finally did, as it was midnight for him and he had a message for me from her. She would arrive at 10 a.m. and I was to wait. So with hours to burn, here I sit, typing a blog post while I watch fascinating and interesting people walk by. Next to me in the row of seats is quite possibly the cutest little boy I’ve ever seen (besides my son, of course). If it weren’t rude, and if his mother didn’t look harassed enough, I’d take his picture and paint him later. He keeps talking to me and bumping my arm and doing that little kid flirting, but I don’t understand a word he says. I wish I did. I think he’s probably 3 years old.

I got to Europe and discovered my cell phone has no service here like I thought it would. Sigh. That could be a pain. But once I get to my apartment (first two nights) and then the hotel (second two) I’ll have my computer and can communicate with my family via Skype or emails. In awhile I’ll use my credit card and call Montchan’s cell to let her know where I’m waiting for her. She said she was arriving via Terminal 2F, and there is no F after any terminal signs I see. So I hope this is it. Having no cell phone in a situation like this sucks ass.

I’m loving being here, I think this will be a memory to treasure. I don’t know how much time I’ll have to blog about it while I’m with my friends, but I certainly will give more detail after I return home.

If we didn’t miss our appointment due to Montchan’s late arrival, she and I plan to have our hair cut somewhere in Paris this morning, and after lunch we will be meeting up with Genilimaa to check in to our apartment where Taiko Tari will meet us as well. Then the fun can begin.

In the meantime, I shall stare at all the beautiful people of the world and wonder what their lives are like.

***UPDATE***
I was waiting for Montchan in the completely wrong terminal…sitting outside the only arrivals area I could find after exploring the entire building. As I was finally beginning to panic just a twinge, I walked back to the United Airlines information desk at departures to see if she had left a message (I had called her cell phone ten times but no answer) but she hadn’t…so I went back to the one place I had described to her in a message the one time I got through on her cell phone, and as the elevator door opened, I heard a very heavily-accented French voice over the intercom: “Paging Leeza Frrraahhnk. Paging Leeza Frrraahhnk, would Leeza Frrraahhnk please come to the information desk at Terminal 1 Meeting Area please?” and I had never heard such a sweet sound in all my life! It was noon, and I had been waiting for almost six hours. Montchan had found me! The funny thing was, she was told they don’t page people at that desk, so she stepped away a few steps and began calling my name at the top of her voice, then she turned around and got a little finger motioning her back to the desk, so they could page me rather than have to hear her making such a racket. The memory of her telling that story with a mischievous grin in her eye makes me smile again as I recall it. The sad part of the Charles deGaull airport in Paris is they have no maps that show the airport having multiple buildings located far from each other, and very poor signage that gives you a clue that this could be the case. But now I know and will never make that mistake again. Terminal 2 where Montchan arrived and waited for me was 15 minutes away by airport tram. Nice. My first blonde moment in Paris.

Jet lag...

2007-11-14T17:06:00.000-07:00

Is kicking my ass.

Home from Paris

2007-11-14T09:09:00.000-07:00

I am sitting on the airplane, high above a layer of fluffy cotton batting, with wisps of blue ocean showing through thin spots in the clouds and blending into the atmosphere that seems to go on forever.

The pilot announced that this flight to Chicago from Paris will last 8 hours and 52 minutes. I already ate lunch, watched a movie, and took a little nap, and now I’m happy to write my thoughts while they’re fresh. The greatest part of this flight is that only about half the seats are taken, which gives me my window seat and also the one next to the aisle ~ aaaah, sweet leg room! If I had a stranger next to me, I’d never feel comfortable writing this where he or she could watch me and read what I’m writing. I know once I return home (after two layovers and thousands of miles and hours of flying and time zone differences), I will be dead tired. Work tomorrow should be fun because I will be busy as hell catching up on what I missed while I was away. But I don’t want to think of that right now, because…

I have fallen in love with Paris!

I heard many times from many different people that I should expect to find French people rude and contemptuous toward Americans, and I am here to tell you that this is a Big Lie. Instead, I found French people to be pleasant, hospitable, kind, charming, and with a style and flair that I now consider purely Paris. I wish I knew the French language, which I feel is vital to fully appreciating and understanding the people there, but for now I leave Paris with a love for it that will remain with me forever. I have found a new place to cherish.

Of course, another reason I will always cherish Paris is because my friends have given me memories that I hope to remember forever. I split my time in Paris in half, with two sets of friends for each half. Montchan, Genilimaa, and Taiko Tari were with me my first two days, and the second two days I was with Wry Catcher, Chanson, HM-UK (Aitch), and Ripzip. I knew from their blog writing and from emails and chats that these women were people I would love to meet, and I feel so very lucky to have been able to finally meet them in real life. Each is unique and beautiful in her own way, and very special to me. I am so happy to be able to call them friends. Thanks to each of you for joining in on my ladies’ weekend in Paris! What a fun time it was ~ I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

I plan to write and share my thoughts and adventures one at a time, so I can have a good record of my memories (yes, I’ll include photos) while they are still fresh in my mind. I’ll post my first one soon, and hopefully all of them will be posted with little or no long lapses in between.

For now, I’ll leave you with this advice: Start saving immediately and go to Paris as soon as you can. You’ll love it, I promise. Especially if you are with friends you love.

feeling magnanimous

2007-11-07T11:39:00.000-07:00

The huge spider crawling across my office floor (that resembles a gray crab with a huge butt) has no idea how lucky he is I'm going to Paris within 24 hours!

I'm just too happy to kill anything right now. Instead I let him crawl onto a piece of paper and then I carried the paper outside and let him live.

I should go to Paris more often! It makes me a nice guy.

Once upon a time...

2007-11-02T12:03:00.000-07:00

There was a little girl who was so busy getting ready to go to Paris she didn't think she'd ever see her way free.

The end.

Q&A from Wry Catcher

2007-10-25T22:10:00.000-07:00

***A huge thanks to my good friend Wry Catcher for her great questions that really made me think. You're awesome, and I look way forward to meeting you in Paris in a couple weeks!

Q: What was the best thing about your life growing up? The worst? If you could go back and change one thing about your childhood, what would it be? Why?

A: The best thing about my life growing up was having so many siblings, they're awesome. I was particularly close to my brother who's a year older than me ~ he was my best friend always, although I've got other siblings now whom I consider best friends in addition to him (now that I'm making the effort to get to know them better and be a better sister). I remember as a teen asking my mom why we had to have 8 kids in our family, complaining about how it made me miss out on some things due to lack of money, and she asked me a question I never forgot: "Which of your brothers or sisters would you like me to get rid of so you can have the life you want?" Wise, wise Madre. None, of course.

The worst thing about my life growing up was my Dad's behavior. He was often emotionally and physically abusive. I don't think he was a very happy person, and this was a continual problem in our family. A big problem. It was a happy place the five days he'd be gone doing the traveling salesman thing, but the second he walked in the door, we were walking on eggshells and uptight and unhappy until Monday morning rolled around and he hit the road again, when we'd heave a collective sigh of relief.

If I could go back and change one thing about my childhood, it'd be to get my dad on Prozac before he ever had children. I think my mom would have really benefited from this ~ we all would have. He's taken it since I've been an adult and it's like night and day, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He needs Prozac like most people need air to live. I'd wish for this because I think it would have prevented many of the extremely hurtful things that happened that make many of his children not care to have a relationship with him now as adults. And perhaps he'd love himself more too.

Q: Are you a feminist? What does that word mean to you? Why?

A: I consider myself a budding feminist because I'm so new at thinking thoughts that may be considered feminist. The word feminist to me means any person, male or female, aware of the inequality females suffer in the world, who wishes to change it to actual equality. Having grown up in a church that thrives on a very patriarchal system, and having assumed this was the way God wants it, has skewed my views a lot, I think. When I stepped away from the church and looked at it with open eyes, I see very well how harmful such a system can be, especially for girls, although I honestly think that systems that favor men are also harmful for men. I recognize that most societies in the world are patriarchal in nature, and I seek to learn more and raise awareness and be a proponent for women and their right to be treated with equality in all areas of life. I've read one book so far that touches on feminist issues within America by describing the lives of a handful of women in the early 1960s, and I recommend, yea, even DEMAND that you all read it. It changed me in a very good way. "The Women's Room" by Marilyn French. Gluby recommended it and it's well worth it.

Q: What is the best thing about your marriage? The worst? What one thing would you change?

A: The best thing about my marriage is the commitment we both feel to support our children in their interests. We are both at every school function, sports event, choir concert, musical program, girl scout parent meeting, soccer game, open house, parent-teacher conference, spelling bee. I am glad we have been able to do this, since I didn't always have my parents at my functions and sometimes I felt their absence (although I do understand why they couldn't always be there since having 8 kids poses logistical problems).

The worst thing about my marriage is a lack of communication. I need to learn to communicate better without a doubt. I avoided confrontation like the plague as a child, and that is still my tendency now, but sometimes things must be discussed. If I could change one thing, it would be to have much better and more open communication, even of the non-confrontational variety. I'd like to be able to talk more together at all.

Q: If you could forcibly (but not damagefully lol) instill ONE THING permanently in each of your children (specific to each of them), what would it be?

A: I'd have to say that I'd instill the same thing in each of my children if I could ~ it wouldn't be a different thing for each. I'd like each of them to have a true sense of self-worth, a deep down knowledge that they are just fine as they are, and that they are amazing and unique and wonderful no matter what. I would have them be comfortable in their own skin so that they aren't worried what others think of them, and so that they are comfortable standing up for those things they know are right. I want them each to be so comfortable with who they are, that they can allow others around them to be who they are too. This is priceless to me. I would want them to shine and blossom and thrive knowing that they are good and worthy and amazing no matter what they pursue. To me there is nothing more beautiful than a person who loves themselves enough to follow their dreams and who is therefore supportive and encouraging of others who do the same. I want them each to be able to feel completely free to live their lives without fear and without apology.

Q: If your dad would really listen to you, AND hear what you had to say, for 10 minutes straight, what would you really want him to know? What would you most like to hear from him? Same thing for your mom?

A:
Dad: I love you. But I don't respect you or like you very much. The way you conducted yourself while we were growing up hurt in ways you may never be able to know unless we seek professional help, which I know you will not do. I think that would be a good thing for you, and for us all. I recognize that who you are stems in large part from how you were raised, and from depression that is likely clinical/biological in nature...so I try to be understanding even when it's very difficult. I am saddened that you worry more about what the church would have you do regarding my apostasy from the church, rather than listening to or talking with me about what I feel. I wish we had communication beyond your generic birthday and anniversary greetings that go out to the entire family including all the aunts, uncles, cousins, great aunts and uncles I don't even know...and I also wish to heaven that you'd quit attaching the most hideous old photos you have in your considerable archive to those emails. I also want to talk about why I had Eric walk me down the aisle at my wedding, instead of you. That memory hurts me now that I think about it as a parent and we should probably discuss this.

What I'd most like to hear from him is why he keeps an abandoned house (since 1996) here in my hometown, and why when he comes to mow the weeds there (because the city threatens to do it for him and charge him $300) he refuses to stay at my house or my sister's and instead he camps out there with no water, electricity, or heat/air, even if it's over 100 degrees that weekend. Strange. I'd also like to hear what his second wife wrote in her letter that she left when she killed herself.

Mom: I love you. You were the glue that held our family together during those difficult years. I have no idea how you remained sane with that many children when you had so little support, money, or hope. I have always admired your open acceptance and thoughtfulness. You have always supported me in what I have chosen to do, and for that I will always be your biggest fan. You went with me to Lamaze classes when I came home pregnant from BYU. You held me and listened when I was devastated by how my best friends rejected me in third grade. You taught me how to write. You supported my dream to be an exchange student, even though we couldn't afford such a huge thing. You gave me a sense of drama (*insert wry smile* yes, I enjoy my drama even if I tease you about yours). Your poise under pressure is amazing. Your love is the closest to unconditional I've ever experienced.

I'd most like to hear from you your favorite poem. You are so good at reading words and making them sound great. Of course, your voice is so soothing that you could make the worst words sound like poetry. Which brings me to my second good question...why have you never opened your own 1-900 number?? You'd have made it big, I swear it's true. ;) I'd also most love to hear your memories and stories of childhood and of your parents.

Q: What’s your favorite thing about yourself? Your least favorite? What one thing are you falsely modest about?

Hmmm. My favorite thing about myself is a tough one. I've been thinking about this for some time and am having a hard time thinking of what to say. I must say my favorite trait is my genuine interest in other people. It makes me happy to hear people's stories, to delve into what makes them tick, and to enjoy them for who they are. I hope that I'm accepting and understanding (although sometimes I fall short, I know) and I think that has been improving lately by leaps and bounds. People fascinate me and give me great joy. I truly love people.

The least favorite thing about myself is my penchant for procrastination. Holy crap, do I wish I didn't procrastinate. Can I blame this on being ADD?

I'm often falsely modest about my art skills. I don't usually say it, but yeah, I think my art is pretty good. You can judge for yourself by clicking the links under "My Art" in my blogroll. Now you can't call me "falsely modest" anymore, can you? And if you saw my price list, you'd perhaps not call me falsely modest either. I charge a lot for my greatness. :)

Worried

2007-10-23T05:59:00.001-07:00

I'm extremely worried about my brother who lives in San Diego and has no car. They've already evacuated 250,000 people due to the fires and 70 mph winds.

Screw Unconditional Love

2007-10-22T15:37:00.000-07:00

I am gonna kill me a dog when I get home.

Unconditional Love

2007-10-21T10:11:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting here reading blogs and I look over at my dachshund who is snuggled up beside me, sleeping soundly in a warm bundle of love. His breathing is even, and his eyes are closed all the way. He is content. I love how his little paws are tucked up between his belly and my thigh.

If I were to stand up right now, he'd stand up, shake his head fast to make his ears flap against his head, and follow me to where I'm headed. He follows me everywhere. No matter where I've been, he lets me know how happy he is to see me again. When I wake up in the morning, he's there with tail wagging, his little body wriggling in happiness as he rolls over to give me his belly to rub. If Dartman gets up before me, Chewie comes into my bedroom and jumps up on my bed to kiss me once on the nose and snuggle up beside me with a sigh.

When I ask him if he's hungry, and he sees me walk to his food container, he starts running circles and chasing his tail all the way to his dish in pure happiness that I'm feeding him. He's so cute when he does this.

When I walk in the door after work, he's just as excited to see me as he is when I leave for ten minutes and return. He's such a lover. Right now I rub his strong shoulders and feel his warmth and I'm filled with such love for him. I feel the silky softness of his ears and I want to hold him forever.

He shows me what unconditional love is.

13 Firsts

2007-10-20T11:32:00.000-07:00

Courtesy of CV Rick

1. First day of school.
The first day of school is hardly something I can remember. I know I attended kindergarten in Orem, Utah. But, I do recall moving to Montana when I was six, and how in first grade there was this boy in the second grade who chased me ruthlessly every single recess. I was so scared of him, every single summer I began praying multiple times a day, with all my might, that he didn't get held back somehow to end up in my grade. I dreaded the first day of school so much every year! I was extremely relieved when we moved across town in the middle of third grade. That kid scared me so much. He always threatened to kiss me if he ever caught me. I was always faster.

2. First kiss.
I was in 9th grade, standing in my best friend's living room with Cal, my first official boyfriend. I didn't like him much, but felt pressured by my friend to have him as a boyfriend. It was a very quick, dry peck, which I ended quickly by hugging him. We mutually broke up shortly thereafter, and a year or two later, he came out of the closet as gay. That may explain why we didn't kiss after that once, and why there was no chemistry.

3. First date.
Of course my first date was when I was 16, as that was a rule in our house. It was with Mike, an adopted native American in the other stake whom I had met at a bi-stake dance. He was so handsome, and I was so infatuated, that I barely talked at all during our date, for fear of causing him to think I was a nerd. If only I had talked, perhaps we'd have dated more than just that once.

4. First car.
I got to take the Wally Wagon to BYU with me, even though I didn't have my license yet. The stipulation was that I get my license (finally) and then I could drive it. What's the Wally Wagon? My grandpa's Plymouth K station wagon, of course. The first real car I actually owned I bought when Dartman and I first got married (Geo Prizm).

5. First time---
My first time was with a guy from Chile who lived in my apartment complex in Provo, Utah where I was going to BYU. I blogged about it here.

6. First break up.
I never actually broke up with anyone...but the guy I loved in high school one day quit talking to me...found out later he felt that saying goodbye would be too hard, so he ended it that way (he had been accepted to West Point) and he later wrote a paper in his English class about his love for a girl named Lisa and how he regretted doing that to me.

7. First 'real' job.
Someone from Albertsons grocery store called the art department of my high school and asked if anyone would be interested in a job making signs there. I thought it was window painting and sign design, and when I first arrived to "interview" he instead walked me through the store, telling me what my job entailed, which was making price comparison signs the size of recipe cards that hang between the Albertsons brand items and national brands. It was writing with markers in a legible hand. Fun times.

8. First time to lose a job.
My first job ended when I was scheduled to head to Austria as an exchange student. The store manager begged me to stay, but somehow Europe sounded like a better option. I've never been fired.

9. First time in love.
High school, ninth grade, when I was walking down the hall and saw him for the first time...yes, it was Mr. West Point. But he didn't know I was in love with him due to that same problem of me thinking if I spoke, he'd never like me. I loved him on and off all through high school, until our thoughts were aligned and we dated until he stopped talking to me.

10. First drink.
Blogged about that too. I was 34.

11. First Sign of a Backbone.
When I decided I wanted to be an exchange student even though I knew I wouldn't be able to afford it. I dragged my mom to the parent information meeting the night I first heard the announcement for anyone interested in being an exchange student...I had sat straight up in my desk, my heart pounding, knowing this was something I had to look into. I had never considered it before that time. I'm so glad I did it.

12. First Ambition.
I wanted to draw women as well as Blossom Lefcourt did in my 4th grade class. I'd draw pages and pages of feet in high heels, noses, arms, hands, chins, profiles, cheeks, hair. Yep. I'm still drawn to drawing and painting the female figure.

13. First Realization of Mortality.
When I woke up last of all my siblings the morning that my baby brother died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. It was surreal peeking out and seeing strangers in the living room, and my parents with baby Mark. I was five years old at the time, I think. I'll blog about that another time, as it deserves thought and care.

Leavin' on a Jet Plane - Part Three: Orientation

2007-10-17T00:17:00.000-07:00

Jet lag was a term I had heard of but had never experienced until I arrived at that scouting lodge in Austria. We were shown into big rooms full of single twin beds and bunkbeds, where we all fell into an exhausted sleep almost immediately.

I discovered cultural differences the next morning while getting ready that until then I had been ignorant of. Standing at the sink next to a girl from France, I reached for the cold faucet and turned it on at the exact same time she turned on the hot. We had each also simultaneously lowered our toothbrushes under the water to get the toothpaste wet before brushing. We looked at each other in surprise, and she spoke first. “You use cold water when you brush your teeth?!” I replied, “You use hot?!” Interesting. I let her go first. She shook her head and laughed about using cold water with another French girl.

When it was my turn, I got in the shower and proceeded to do my usual routine: wash my hair with shampoo; wash my face with face wash; put conditioner in my hair and leave it in while washing the rest of my body with soap; rinse conditioner out; turn off water. It wasn’t until I was standing at the mirror drying my hair and applying my makeup that I noticed something strange. The girls from Europe and Sweden would get in the shower and step out again within one minute! I thought my eyes deceived me the first time I noticed this, but every last one of the non-Americans did so. Did they wash themselves at all?? I discovered later that day why ~ utilities in Europe (the cost to heat water) were over four times the cost of the same thing in the United States. Another interesting thing learned.

We had five days of orientation at this lodge before our host families were due to pick us up. There were about five Austrian volunteers who were in their early twenties. Each had been exchange students previously, so they understood what we were going through. We would break into smaller groups between meals and have lessons (in English) on Austrian culture while sitting out in the mowed field surrounded by lush trees and greenery. Over half of us were American, and the European exchange students spoke English as well as we did.

We were taught basic German words we would need to know. Philip, the handsomest of the volunteers, taught us how dialects differ in various areas of Austria. For instance, when you go to an outdoor sausage vendor and ask for a hot dog, in Viennese slang one would say (and I spell this phonetically), “Ee voo ah hahssa” ~ he made us say this until we got it right. It meant “I want a hot dog” (although this is a much higher quality type sausage than the American version of a hot dog). High German would be “Ich möchte eine Heisse.”

We were instructed that during meals, proper etiquette in Austria is to hold your fork in your left hand and your knife in your right. You cut your food with your knife, and rather than set your knife down and transfer your fork from your left hand to your right hand before taking a bite, as is customary in American culture, you keep your knife in your right hand and you eat with your left hand. If you have ever eaten next to someone who does the opposite of you so your elbows clash, you will know why they taught us this vital piece of information. We practiced this at every single meal. It was one of the most important lessons, because anything else would be considered very rude behavior.

During my orientation days, I also noticed one thing. I was very aware of how loud and obnoxious the majority of the American exchange students were. While outgoing, I was a lot more reserved and observant during those days. I was drawn to two Swedish girls, a French girl, and a Danish girl. We got along really well, and we would spend free time together, talking about our host families, sharing pictures, poring over maps to see how far away we’d live from each other. We knew we’d be coming back to the scout lodge about once every three months, so that was something to look forward to. We shared our fears that we would end up in a family we didn’t get along with.

On our final day, there was a different feeling as we all ate breakfast. This was it! The day our families were to come and take us home. We were all less talkative and trying to not look apprehensive, when in reality we were all nervous as hell. What if we never learned the language well enough to communicate? What if the language didn't suddenly click with us at around the three month mark like the volunteers assured us would happen? What if they didn’t like us? What if we didn’t get along? The length of a year never seemed so long before. After breakfast, we all packed our suitcases and dragged them outside in the morning sunshine to wait for our families to collect us. I sat with the Swedish girls and suddenly one of them sat straight up and smiled, and we could see that she recognized her host dad from his photos as he walked across the clearing with a smile on his face for her. She gave us a quick smile before heading off into the unknown. The same happened with my other friend a few moments later.

Suddenly a small, red car pulled up and three people got out. It was my host mom, her oldest son (age 20), and youngest daughter (age 12). I stood up, my heart beating out of my chest, and they walked toward me. With tentative smiles on all our faces, we shook hands and carried my things to their car. My journey had officially begun.

Honest...

2007-10-15T21:17:00.001-07:00

I am writing a new blog post, a continuation my Leavin' on a Jet Plane story found here:

Part One
Part Two

I'd finish writing the next chapter tonight, but find I'm too tired.*

Good night!

*It's a good kind of tired. You know, the kind that comes from a full and busy Monday at work. Get your mind out of the gutter!

Fun

2007-10-11T19:47:00.000-07:00

This morning I got to enjoy Muffins for Moms at school with my youngest. She thrills to do this each year, and I enjoy the alone time we have eating doughnuts, drinking juice, and talking for half an hour before I walk her to her classroom and head to work late.

This week is also homecoming week for my son at high school. Each day they have a different dress-up theme. It's been a fun week around here. Two nights ago, we shopped for him to dress as a movie character. He decided to go dressed as a "mean girl" from the movie Mean Girls. It was pretty funny watching him try on mini skirts, and then high heels...he was so confident that he would be able to do it, and he almost broke his ankle twice in three steps! I haven't had a good laugh like that in a long time! He refused to let me post the pics of him. Damn.

So yesterday morning I had to help him don makeup, which was another adventure. Ever seen an eyelash curler being wielded by the big, knuckly hands of your goalie son?? Hilarious.

Today he went to school as a nerd. He wore his old Sunday pants that are five inches too short, and a white shirt with black bow tie, hideous shoes, and Gumby cap with a really long bill that he bent upward. He also wore a huge old pair of my glasses (lenses removed) that he taped in the middle. Classic. He has guts, I have to hand him that.

What a great week.

Hell Week

2007-10-09T08:06:00.000-07:00

A few quick thoughts then back to the grindstone for me, since I'm in billing hell right now...

**Chewie is doing much better (thanks to all who asked). He's been jumping up on the couch and chasing his tail and wanting to play again, which means he's feeling better. I wish I knew how to train him to not jump on and off the couch. He's gonna hurt himself again. I love his little self.

**I'm drinking a caramel latte this morning and I do believe it saved my life.

**Fall is here, and a few weekends ago we drove to a town a few hours away, and I forgot my camera. I was so bummed, because the black walnut trees, the aspens, and the red shrubs on the mountains were just gorgeous. The cottonwoods are most prevalent and they are changing color now too. Gorgeous.

**The other morning it was raining and my daughter ran into my bedroom to inform me it was SNOWING! So she opened my blinds and we laid in my bed and watched the large flakes magically falling in slow motion, to melt on the green grass in the rain. It was beautiful. I love rainy days, and snow is beautiful every time I see it while warmly wrapped in my comforter with my daughter snuggled close.

**I have a couple of good blog posts brewing...I hope to get to that soon. Sorry I've been lax in writing more in my blog. It happens sometimes.

**I'm afraid to read or listen to the talk from General Conference by the token female speaker, who apparently spoke on the wifely duties of women that apparently were ripped straight out of the 1950s. I can't wait to sink my feminist teeth into that one.

OK, I gotta get my ass back to work.

computers, sex, and denial in the living room

2007-10-04T11:00:00.000-07:00

The following writing comes from a friend of mine, Sister Secret. She'd like to remain anonymous yet would like to open up dialogue about the subject of internet porn and how we react to it as Mormons. Any thoughts are appreciated and she will be reading and responding as she sees fit.

computers, sex, and denial in the living room

One Christmas season, we were visiting my in-laws. Newly married, I was enjoying getting to know my husband's family. One night, we were gathered in the living room playing a game. I got up to get a snack, passing by the computer in the family room on the way to the kitchen. My father-in-law was at the computer. I glanced at the computer screen--okay, I'm nosy--and saw that he was at a website that contained several links to calendar girls. You know, naked ones.

I kept walking by, and thought that I must have been mistaken. I only caught a quick glance and wasn't sure what I saw. There's no way my devout Mormon father-in-law would be checking out...No.

I grabbed my snack and went back into the living room. A little while later, I walked by again to get a drink. My father-in-law was still at the same website. And I could tell now that it was definitely what I thought it was. Yep. Porn. Back in the living room with the rest of the family, my brain started working hard on denial. Surely he was only on that site by mistake. He's not of a computer savvy generation and just followed a link he shouldn't have and accidentally found himself here. Right?

Out of morbid desire to know for sure--or perhaps, a certain lack of boundaries about other people's business that Mormonism bred in me--I walked by the computer again. This time, I saw he was printing something out. A picture. I only saw a couple inches worth as I quickly walked behind him, but I could tell it was a whole lot of flesh color. I was shocked and appalled. Curiosity just got the best of him, and, I mean, he's only human, right? This is exactly what the Brethren warned against, isn't it? You get one glimpse, and suddenly you're sucked in and your marriage and life are ruined. How could he be so stupid? I walked back through on the way back from the kitchen, almost as a "I know what you're doing" statement and saw he had folded up the picture and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

I returned to the living room, angry and confused. I tried to play the game with everyone, but I was distracted. My father-in-law disappeared into his bedroom, and came out a while later, hair disheveled and a goofy grin on his face. No way. He did not just--oh, my gosh--how could he? What do I do? Granted, he probably hasn't done it with his wife in years, but, jeez. This in pornography, the bane of modern existence. I sneaked away to the computer and checked the history. His sins were confirmed: there were several jpgs, all of them named female names. I didn't click on any of them myself. Too dangerous. Besides, I didn't want to see any naked women. Gross.

It all made sense now. The computer viruses, the raunchy pop-ups on the screen when you least suspect it. He's been downloading things, all sorts of cookies and junk infecting the computer. Everyone had been wondering what the heck was wrong with the computer, why there were so many porn ads popping up. I had been too innocent to suspect any of the teenage boys, or even that someone in the house was viewing porn sites. I just figured those evil-doers who make the sites are also good at finding ways to infect random computers. You know, like the Brethren said, it catches you unawares.

I was angry. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been that angry. I had to do something. Something. But what? Confront him? Ugh, too embarrassing. I hardly know him. Tell my husband? What good would that do? Make him mad, too? That would just be gossip, and the fewer people who know about his sin, the better. Tell my mother-in-law? Yeah, that's probably good. She should know. She should know that their marriage is about to be ruined by some insidious pictures from the internet. But how do I tell her? That's just so awkward.

I seethed and thought the rest of the evening, but didn't say anything. Then it hit me. Whose business was this, more than anyone else's? The bishop! Yes, I could tell the bishop. But how? I'd heard of people slipping notes to bishops to let them know about other's sins. I could do that, write a note that my father-in-law has something to confess. Yeah, that'll work.

The next day was Sunday, and we all packed in the car to head to church, like always. I was so mad at my father-in-law I couldn't stand to be near him, or even look at him. He happened to sit next to me in the pew. I tensed up and scooted further away from him, trying not to make it obvious. I sat there thinking about my plan to tell the bishop, wondering how to word it. But I wasn't sure, still, if that's what I should do. I thought and thought, just as angry and confused as ever. Finally, I prayed, "What should I do?"

And then it hit me. I should do nothing. At the time, this came to me as, "That's between my father-in-law and the Lord." I felt the Spirit was telling me Heavenly Father would take care of it. I felt relieved, a burden gone from my shoulders. The Lord knew, and would deal with it in His own way.

I never told. I kept my little secret, and smugly noticed that next time there was a temple wedding, he didn't attend. His wife gave some excuse about forgetting to get his temple recommend renewed. I figured that his bishop had found out somehow.

Since then, I've changed my mind about the church, and have reinterpreted the Spirit's little message to be my then-devout way of realizing a simple truth: It was none of my business.

Now, the Brethren's fearful advice seems overblown. There are plenty of far more important things the supposed leaders of the True Church of God on Earth could be preaching about than men's solo sex lives.

--Sister Secret

every dachshund owner's nightmare

2007-10-02T09:07:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago I was playing with my beloved wiener dog ~ I threw his toy into the dining room and he ran to get it, jumping over the step because the dining room is eight inches lower than the living room where I threw the toy from. When he got to the toy, he began crying in this horrid yelp that sounded like he'd swallowed a squeaker.

We knew he had hurt his back again.

He cried a lot that night, and this was worse than the other two times his back was hurt. I barely slept, and kept hearing his cries and would go to him and give him loves while he shook and whined. The next morning we took him to the vet.

I carried him inside wrapped in his blanket, and they took him with his blanket to check on him. Within a minute, the vet came back and said she was keeping him over the weekend, to restrict his movement and prevent further injury. I felt bereft, like I didn't get to say goodbye! This is not like me, and I shocked myself even further by saying to her, "Would it help Chewie if I brought him a stuffed animal from home?"

In looking back, I seriously can't believe 1. that I'd say such a thing, or 2. that she held a straight face as she replied, "I'm sure his blankie is enough."

We were able to bring him home on Tuesday after four nights of his being away. He had obviously been in a small cage ~ probably made of chain link fencing because his nose had a big sliced scab on the top near where his facial hair meets his nose. This week that scab fell off and now there's a big pink smooth spot where black nose should be. I hope he's not scarred for life. Either way, he's gorgeous to me.

He's been on Prednesone to reduce swelling in his joints/vertebrae. This (or his trauma at having been in a small cage for days on end) has created an unfortunate side effect. Three days ago, he peed on the living room carpet. Yesterday, my husband got home from work to find he had pooed on the carpet too. Last night, after my son's soccer game and dinner out, my husband got home first, and when we walked in, we found that while Dartman was busy, Chewie had pooed again. This morning, I saw that he had jumped up on the back of our couch (which we had failed to rig with cushions standing straight up to prevent his jumping up there) and peed into the back cushion where it had run down into the seat cushion too. Three times this week he's gotten into garbages he never touches and shredded kleenex and other stuff all over.

That had better be the last incident. This sucks. Oh, but his back seems to be much better, thank Jeebus.

An LDS baby shower

2007-09-28T08:02:00.000-07:00

A couple days ago I got an invitation in the mail that read:

You're invited to an open house for mom & baby!

It was listed as being given by a friend I know from way back (Anna) and a woman I had never heard of, and all it said below was "Bring a gift for mom or baby. If you haven't already!"

I tried calling the friend I know to see if the other woman was her daughter having a baby (although I didn't think she had a daughter with that name) or find out who the shower was for, but she wasn't home, so I figured I'd not go since I had a soccer game anyway that lasted until after the baby shower started.

During the soccer game, however, I saw Anna in the stadium seats (our sons are on the team together) so I asked her what she was doing here if she was also throwing a baby shower...and I asked her who it was for.

She said it was for my best LDS friend who had a baby three weeks ago ~ they had forgotten to put her or her baby's name on the invite!

I have gone to lunch with Anna once since my disaffection and told her I had left the church and why. She's an awesome woman and we have always liked each other, without ever making time to really do things together besides that one lunch. Ours is the type of friendship where we'll see each other and the joy we each feel is apparent, yet we've never worked in a calling together or even been in the same ward in the last 8 or 9 years. But every time we see each other at a sports function or at the grocery store, we talk like there has been no time in between.

My friend who the shower was for may or may not know of my disaffection. She and I worked in the primary presidency together, were visiting teaching partners for years, and her husband was my home teacher and bishop for five years. They are good friends of ours, and we go have dinner at their home once or twice a year as time allows. We've been to dinner in their home since my disaffection, but nothing was discussed like I expected. They have eight children now so life is complicated for her. She is only 37 years old. She is an absolute saint. If I had that many children, I'd have already lost my mind. I still can't believe I got voted Most Likely To Have Eight Children in my high school yearbook. WTF??

I took my 9 year old daughter and we got there an hour late. I had wondered if anyone would ask me about leaving the church, because this was the first all-LDS function I've attended since leaving the church. Strangely, I wasn't worried, just wondered if it would happen. Ten months ago I'd have been in paranoid panic mode. As it turns out, this was a party with about twenty ladies, and all but four were strangers to me.

It was a fun time, I really love my friend Anna and also the one whose party it was. We had fun laughing and I cracked a few jokes which was fun ~ can you believe someone gifted her bath salts that were said to be an APHRODISIAC right on the label??? How could I NOT joke about the cruel humor of whoever gifted that to her?? I haven't done anything social like that in a while. Good times. I'm very glad I went.

It was interesting to note that nobody whom we were both friends with while working in the primary together were there. Sadly, often in Mormon culture it seems that your best friends tend to be the ones you currently work with, and moving into another ward or getting a different calling (job to do) sometimes causes you to not see or talk to good friends anymore whom you'd have sworn were kindred spirits.

I need to write a note to this friend and tell her I've left the church. Likely she's wondering or hurt why I never trusted her enough to say something.

In my fortune cookie tonight...

2007-09-23T19:49:00.000-07:00

You will soon find a treasure.

Sounds promising.

Yessssss.

2007-09-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

Guess whose passport showed up in the mail today!

Utah Drivers

2007-09-18T21:22:00.000-07:00

OK, I had to laugh at Melliferous Pants' blog...she's so damn funny. She recently moved to Utah from California and has discovered the suckiness that is Utah drivers.

I speculated my ideas of why this is so:

Seriously. I have a theory about the aggressiveness of Utah drivers. It has much to do with the Mormon superiority complex combined with the conscious suppression of aggression in other areas of life in order to appear more spirichul and Christlike in front of their peers.

I could be wrong, of course.

And now I have another possible theory. Men with priesthood powah rule in all things, yea, even the highway. Women drivers, sensing this and how very wrong it is, step up their aggression a notch in the one place they can anonymously do so. Not like they can do it at home with their priesthood-wielding man, right?

Regardless of the reason (hell, it could be a combination of all three we've speculated on - Pants said that perhaps the Utah drivers are so righteous they know nothing could possibly harm them), the sad truth is that Utah drivers suck eggs.

I suggested that she create some bumper stickers to sell in Utah:

Let your light so shine, even while you drive, asshole

Praise to the Man who communed with his road rage

Let us All Press On in Cutting Each Other Off

Will You Drive This Bad in the Celestial Kingdom?

~~I thought of a few more...

God be with you 'til you speed again

Have I Done Any Good on this road today?

No garments? THAT explains why you're driving the speed limit!

Forgive me, brothers and sisters, I'm late for a(nother) meeting!

I don't cut people off on Sundays, so back off!

I am your chance to practice Christlike love and forgiveness.

Any other bumper stickers you can think of?

Ten Jobs I do NOT Want

2007-09-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

Tagged by Natalie Collins to list ten jobs I'd hate to have.

1. Movie theater clerk
See my thoughts on this here.

2. Ride operator at an amusement park
Hot weather wipes me out. Screaming kids don't appeal to me in the slightest. I won't even mention my aversion to puke as that seems obvious.

3. Ski patrol
I don't care for skiing OR cold weather, although it is cozy and nice in a ski lodge...so I'd work there. Or play there. *Ahem*

4. Lifeguard
Sun. Hates. Me. Oh, and the swimming thing is an issue, sadly. And the being-seen-in-a-swimsuit thing too.

5. Person who gives bikini waxes
I saw this video and although it was interesting, I know I could never be one who inflicts that kind of pain on others.

6. Dog pound employee
Three years ago when we decided to find a smaller dog to buy for our kids for Christmas, I began checking the dog pound every day. There is no more depressing place. Small cages, sad dog eyes, incessant barking and whining. Bad smells. Death for the unwanted. Ugh.

7. Accountant
I know, I do books, payroll, and cost-tracking for a living. But doing deeply detailed analyses and taxes for a living sounds like migraine-every-day stuff to me.

8. Butcher/Meat Cutter
Cold conditions, bad smells, greasy floors, nasty smells, bloody meat, freezing cold freezers, horrible smells, and a lot of frigid temperatures.

9. Roofer
Working on a rooftop in the extreme heat is not my idea of fun. I'd faint and fall off the roof in a beautifully non-graceful display of heat stroke perfection.

10. Oncologist
I know they have great job security, but how horrible would it be to treat only cancer patients all day? That would be depressing as hell for someone like me.

The Blessings of Tithing

2007-09-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

Growing up, I had a strong testimony of tithing. Basically, I was certain that when I paid 10% of my gross income, I'd be blessed financially and in myriad other ways I didn't know, such as my washer wouldn't break down like it may have done had I not been paying my tithing, or I could avoid getting sick if I payed paying, that kind of thing. Every time my husband or I got a raise over the years, I made sure to tell him that I KNEW that it was because God was blessing me for paying tithing on my half of our income.

Well, as you may have read in my previous post, on Monday I got to work to find I had received an unexpected 10% raise. (Could the 10% be a coincidence??) Because, you see, I haven't paid tithing in a year. When I updated the Employee Raise Log I keep, I saw that since October of last year, I've had three raises that total more than a 20% raise. That doesn't include some generous bonuses I've also received in the last ten months.

Monday after work, I drove to the bank to deposit my (now larger) check. As I was driving out of the bank drive-up, my son called, asking where I was since practice just ended and his friend who gets a ride from us needed to get to voice lessons. I looked at my gas gauge that had been below empty all day, and realized I didn't have time to get gas like I had planned. I figured I could drive the four miles to my son's friend's house and would get gas at the station near his home.

Halfway there, my car began sputtering and I knew the worst had happened. For the first time in my life, I actually ran out of gas.

Perhaps I should have paid my tithing. What a pain in the ass.

Inoculation

2007-09-12T19:57:00.000-07:00

I forgot to tell you I wrote a comment on Mormon Matters that I copied over on Main Street Plaza. Check it out. There's a lot of good reading over there, actually, from many great writers.

The comment I posted there was in response to the idea that the church should "inoculate" its members with the truths that so far have been withheld or kept out of the lesson manuals and conference talks. There is some debate that the church would not survive such a thing happening vs. some who feel that the church better do it or it will keep losing members, especially the youth, in droves.

Kudos to Mayan Elephant and Equality for their awesome comments on the podcast. I think you guys rock! It was awesome to hear John Hamer, Ann (Porter?) and John Dehlin too.

I've been really busy for the last week, but hope to get back to my regularly scheduled blogging soon! Gotta love it.