Mishtown

Elderly Men, Bee $ Bling, and Flenna

2011-12-10T21:36:00.004-09:00

Friday was my last day at the assisted living facility. You'll remember my glowing evaluation at the beginning of the semester of all things stooped and wrinkly. I'm happy to report that I was not disillusioned. Sure, you've got your crotcheties, your gossips, not to mention your eternally-smelling-of-uric-acid's, but all these things aside, I'm still convinced that they are the most wonderful brand of people you will ever meet. I'm certainly going to miss them. Anyhow, I went around and said personal goodbyes to some of my favorites - thus the myspace-like photos below. Oh, and I may have tweaked them a tad on picnik?

Blind, snarky, loveable Dean. This guy never failed to give me a hard time for trying to recruit him for activities. He also never failed to seek me out afterwards to inform me that he went to them. He's my favorite.

Sweet, sweet Ben who earned a silver star in the Korean War, writes books on LDS divorce prevention, and makes me feel like a hundred bucks. This goodbye was especially hard. We even kissed on the lips, but I don't want to talk about that any further. The point is, he's my favorite.

This one looks like an engagement photo, and that's kind of awkward, but I still love this guy too. Casey has the most raucous laugh you've ever heard, wears sunglasses at all times, and brings himself to tears every time he plays the piano in the lobby. Several disturbing lip-kisses at this goodbye too, but I REALLY don't want to talk about that, because this is going to be remembered as a sweet event, ok? Not an icky one. Cause he's my favorite.

Oh, so then I shot the breeze with Bee Money and we said our goodbyes. Frankly, the Bee $ issue troubles me. How do you solve a problem like Bee Money? Eh, I've been trying to formulate in words exactly what I mean, but it's not working , so I'll just insert some key words for now: responsibility, community, mental deficits, caretaking. Just so you know, he's as pure and good as they come.

Oh, and then there was that time Carol, Michael and myself performed that embarrassing photoshoot at the Salt Flats (embarrassing because we performed a photoshoot - the pictures themselves were fine). (That's a lie, the pictures were embarrassing, too).

Oh right, Flenna. Flenna: that thing where you're happily flossing when you notice that your floss seems to be an unnatural yellowish color, and then you follow your discolored string to the source, only to find that you have been unwittingly dragging it through the not-quite-dried henna paint on your hand, which means, of course, that you have been flossing with henna. Flenna.

Thoughts for Thursday

2011-12-01T09:04:00.007-09:00

Ok. First. Take a gander at them nails. As T, Kj and I discovered, it actually works! THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING. Go here for directions. Better yet, just git yerself on over to my pinterest page, cause you should really be checking that out anyway. Pinterest is love.

Second. All I ever want to do these days is sit on my bed and watch 30 Rock. I'm sorry to say my Tina Fey girl-crush continues to escalate to unhealthy proportions.

Third, you know that thing where you're responsibly waiting at a crosswalk for the white stick man to show up, and all of the sudden some bold character shuffles past you and starts crossing the street, and for a brief second you're all confused and thinking Wait! He's not here yet! And next you're feeling all lame and prudeish for being so law-abiding. You know, that thing? Yeah.

Fourth, a very warm welcome to my scrumptious new niece, Amelia. If birth stories are your thing, perhaps go read my sister's blog post about Amelia's birth, cause it's hilarious. Except what am I saying? You all know this! Cause she's your sister too.

Also, totally jazzed to be approaching graduationdom. Larsens, winter the way it was meant to be lived (eat it, Utah), and also T. has agreed to perform an intervention in my out-of-control carb addiction. I predict many convulsions and gnashings of teeth during those first few weeks of detox, but maybe after that my body will be able to accept roughage again. And maybe these next few weeks I'll be unconsciously filling up on Hostess fruit pies to make up for the upcoming famine, or maybe not so unconsciouslywhat? I don't wanna talk about it. Apple's my favorite.

Life is Good, But This is Always True.

2011-11-11T17:52:00.003-09:00

A Tale of Three Churches

2011-10-16T14:04:00.007-09:00

Over the past few months, I've picked up something of a bad habit. Or, maybe it's a good habit. But before I get into that, I would ask that you refer to this article so you can have a bit of context on the matter at hand.

There now. Pretty good stuff, huh? I think it was B-man that posted the article to his facebook page a couple years ago. Like any self-justifying member of a misunderstood minority, I ate that thing up when I read it. And along with Card, I have found myself not a few times since then reflecting longingly on the idea of a mini-Mormon monastery.

But alas, the structure of faithful church membership remains as it is, three hours, once a week in a designated meetinghouse. And I suppose there must be divine wisdom in that. Still, I have discovered an alternative that I allow myself to take, only every now and then, when my student ward becomes too much to handle.

Family wards. I go to family wards. It started out innocently enough. Oops! By some freak accident I overslept my alarm and missed my ward today, oh well, guess I'll have to go to the family ward instead. After all, it's just right down the street. This evolved into, Geez, my ward meets so early, I'm just gonna catch up on some sleep and hit up the family ward tomorrow instead. This soon became, I only ever go to the family ward because student wards blow. It was a problem.

But you have to understand! First of all, do you know how refreshing family wards are for someone who has only known church in the form of exalted high school for the past five years? It's like stepping out of an artificially-created world into the real deal. To me, family wards represent what real life is like. It's not quite so neatly manicured as a student ward. It's not quite so Stepford Wivesy. And I like that.

Second, do you know how awesome it is for an introvert to be able to sit through all three meetings completely undisturbed? And why is that? Cause no one knows you! Forget the stomach-churning, mind-numbing, soul-deadening chit-chat that is common to halls and foyers, you don't got nobody to talk to! Sure, you might have to endure a few well-meaning souls who want to know if you're new here or visiting, but in the end it's still worth it cause you're never going to see this person again. Off come the chains of social responsibility, you are free! Free to worship as you please, which is privately, in the back row, and only until the last prayer is said, after which you better believe you are outta there quicker than you can say Visiting Teacher. Basically, it's wonderful. The only revitalizing Sundays I ever have anymore are the ones in which I allow myself this indulgence.

Today was one of those days. I woke up, made pancakes, got ready for church, and drove down to the 'ol meetinghouse where I knew a family ward was guaranteed to be meeting. Unfortunately for me, I was barely seated when I happened to make eye contact with my old roommate and her newly-married husband, who are apparently in this ward now. By the time I realized my error, it was too late, and I became obligated to come and sit with them. So much for my hour of private worship.

Unwilling to ride out the rest of the church block with my acquaintances, who would surely feel obligated to invite me to continue on with them to Sunday School, I respectfully bid goodbye to my married friends and headed out in search of another meetinghouse. A short way down the road, I chanced upon the very first ward I ever attended after moving to Utah. I decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately for me, former young women leader who happens to be a psychiatrist who once gave me free counseling is still in that ward, and may have recognized me. I waited out the second hour, but you better believe the closing prayer had me outta there faster than you can say Bad Memories.

The third hour of church finds me parked at one of those fancy new meetinghouses that all look the same. What is wrong with me? I think. Why do I find it so impossibly difficult to attend more than three hours of the same ward, much less my assigned ward? Aw, who cares, I think. All that matters is that I'm attending my meetings and being edified. And then I think, Man, I sure am lucky to be living through this phase in a state where I can find a different ward every quarter-mile. And then I think, Hey, what should I eat when I get home from church? And then I go inside.

And find that no one in that church building currently speaks anything but Mandarin.

You can't say I didn't try.

The last half hour of church finds me at Grant's nursing home. Unfortunately, he is asleep and I am not one to wake people from afternoon naps.

The fourth hour of church finds me at my favorite cemetery overlooking the valley. Hunsaker and Hall are kind enough to let me share their plot while I sort out the complexities of the living world. And it's just nice.

I don't mean to come off as one of those weirdy, God-is-everywhere types. I don't mean to imply that sitting in nature has the same effect as engaging in meaningful study and discussion of gospel principles with people who believe the same thing you do. Obviously the latter activity cannot be replaced, and is important enough that we are asked to participate in it every week. As an introverted Latter-Day Saint, this is something I'm just going to have to learn to reconcile.

But sometimes...

Sometimes, you just gotta monk it up. Putting that on a t-shirt.

Discovery

2011-09-28T20:08:00.004-09:00

You know that thing where you go around seeing the world a certain way, and everything is accurate and makes sense and it only rarely occurs to you that maybe things are different than how you perceive them? And then something happens to shake you out of your paradigm and you're all whoa, I've been totally oblivious. And suddenly your world is slightly different. It's a new world. It has sandy beaches and looks like Asia, probably.

For example, the other day I was dutifully applying concealer to the unders of my eyes, when I remembered I had recently heard somewhere that dark circles are caused by delicate blood vessels that break and bleed and pool there under your eyes (yum). I realized then that I had never actually checked to see if my eye skin was dark.

(!!)

And then, the thought came to me that maybe the problem is not that I have delicate eye vessels, but that my eyes actually jut out so much that they cast a shadow. Inspecting further, I found significant support for this theory. But just to be sure, I had Carol perform an exam.

It maybe looked something like this. Except with more emphasis on me pulling my undereye skin out so she could inspect its pallor.

Sure enough, she confirmed my undereye skin to be peachy-fleshy-toned, not blood-pooly-black.

Now, about here you're maybe wondering what difference any of this makes. Don't I still have to apply concealer?

Yes. Yes I do. The point is, my world is expanded. One day I was walking around thinking something was a certain way, and suddenly it wasn't true. And maybe I never would have even made that discovery, if my thoughts hadn't gone that particular route. What if I had gone my whole life thinking I had delicate undereye blood vessels?! Can you imagine how many delusions you're operating under right now, this very minute?

>another Columbus joke to tie in the title of this post<

2011-09-14T06:06:00.002-09:00

Everyone: I think I'm dying. Over the last few days I've been getting all these weird symptoms and it makes no sense and I need your medical wisdom! Also I wanted to say goodbye and thanks for all the memories!

Symptoms:
-extremely sore obliques (this could be a side effect of pilates the other day, but there's really no way of knowing)
-random itchy bites ALL OVER (it's possible I have bed bugs)
-right side of jaw is extremely sore (this actually is really weird)
-oppressive fullness feeling/pressure like I just got back from Golden Corral, even though all I've eaten today is a few bites of Cream of Wheat.
-intermittent bouts of being really cold
-there's nail polish ALL over my hands. This may be a result of a failed attempt at marbling (pinterest made it look so easy)

If anyone can decipher these clues, please let me know what you find out. Until then, I will be here...finalizing my will...overseeing some last minute preparation on that Cold Stone raid...

Internship Love

2011-09-03T15:28:00.006-09:00

Hey, I made it through my last first week of school! And it wasn't even that struggled! Any first week of school that doesn't end with me crouched in the corner eating my hair is a good first week of school.

Here's what going to be awesome about my last semester: Internships. Yes that's right, multiple internships. I know, I was surprised too. What started out as my semester of chill became, about halfway through the week, my semester of extremely busy/how in the heck am I going to manage this. But the good news is, so far I love it. Do you guys know how much I love old people? I love 'em. Let me tell you why.

1) They are stinkin' cute. Those sweater vests. The corny jokes. The hunched backs, looking so much like wise old tortoises when they scoot down the hall with their walkers...it's too much.

2) They are REAL. I love how the social graces fall away with age, how they're not afraid to say what they're thinking, how they seem to just plain stop caring what other people think. True, sometimes this quality comes at the expense of common civility, but I think it's still worth it.

3) They are hilarious. Check my most recent fb status update for clarification.

4) They emanate wisdom and dignity. Sitting on the bus yesterday as we traversed the winding roads of Heber Valley, a bunch of bobbing white-haired heads all around me and oldies in our ears, I was o'ercome with a feeling of perfect harmony. These people I get to associate with are the survivors. They have lived, loved, struggled, endured, experienced all there is to experience in this life, and you can see it in their faces. And now, having lived through the most dynamic century in the history of the earth, their lives converge on this scenic bus ride. It's the highlight of their day, and most of all, it is enough. The appreciation of simple pleasures. The quiet gratitude for a full and fruitful life. Eyes and hearts pointed heavenward. Isn't the ABA pattern of our lives just beautiful? You know, naked as we came, all that stuff?! I JUST FEEL SO GRATEFUL TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP COMPANY WITH THE GREATEST PEOPLE EVER, AAHHH!

So I'm probably still stuck in the enchantment stage and will most likely be ranting in about a month about how nasty and ungrateful old people are*. But for now, love. Just love.

In addition, I will most likely be doing my second internship with the Utah County Crisis Line, so pretty much my internships are as relevant to my interests as they could possibly get. I am just blessed, that's all.

*While there is indeed nothing cuter than a sweet and sincere interaction with an old person, there is also probably nothing scarier than getting yelled at by an old person. Which happens...a lot. It's good for me, though. I've always been too sensitive to criticism.

Edit 9/5/11: So actually old people make me cry. So much so that I have to leave early cause the tears are a-comin' and I'm going to make a scene if I don't run to my car NOW. It's going to be a loooooong semester.

Invincible Summer

2011-08-26T07:16:00.007-09:00

Guys, it's over. Summer's over. Having just come to the realization that today is my last chance to nap on the ASB lawn and call it "work", I have naturally been feeling nostalgic. But instead of going out like an ungrateful sluggard, I've decided to release my Vulcan death grip on this particular season and instead outline all the cool things I got to do. You know, for the memories.

Teacher, here's what I did with my summer vacation:

-I put red streaks in my hair.
-I spent two restorative weeks in Sac with the 'rents.
-I spent time with my cute sister's family in Phoenix.
-I read five books (which is about five less than I intended to read, but we're focusing on achievements right now, not regrets)
-I went to a couple town fairs.
-included in one of those town fairs, pie-eating contest.
-I spent time with my elderly friend Grant, and he softened my heart.
-I checked off two more classes.
-I got to take an unexpected and welcome trip to Alabama.
-I started wearing bracelets again.
-I tried out many new food venues in the greater Provo/Orem area.
-I became acquainted with Jillian Michaels for a while, but we're estranged now.
-Ditto with P90.
-I found and utilized the best campus napping spot to date (4th floor Clyde Bldg. women's restroom, that's the ticket!)
-There was a brief streak in which I went to Yogurtland at least twice a week.
-I took full advantage of the FREE.ninety-free Thursday concert series in SLC and saw many way rad bands, including Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, Bright Eyes, Ghostland Observatory, and Lupe Fiasco. I dressed up for every one, according to each respective style of music. Pictures later.
-I think I got vicariously high off of some of those concerts, but there's no way of knowing, really.
-I discovered pinterest, and life has been considerably more colorful and fabulous ever since.
-I went to the Salt Flats for the first time and they were GORGEOUS.
-I interviewed Bee Money for a documentary that I have every intention of making someday.
-I floated the Provo River with Carol and we almost drowned a few times, but we're good now.
-I went late-night dumpster diving for the first (but definitely not the last!) time.
-I said some goodbyes.
-I lost a lot of money, and got it all back again.

So you see, I really had a very wonderful summer. It wasn't all roses, but despite the bad parts, I'm grateful for this time in my life. I know that these are the days I will one day look back on with crinkly eyes and wisdom, and think, "Ah, youth." Summer is the season of the young and carefree, and I'm just grateful I've managed to live it up while I can.

2011-08-22T10:46:00.007-09:00

"Years ago I preferred clever people. There was a joy in beholding a mind bearing thoughts quickly translated into words, or ideas expressed in a new way. I find now that my taste has changed. Verbal fireworks often bore me. They seem motivated by self-assertion and self-display. I now prefer another type of person; one who is considerate, understanding of others, careful not to break down another person’s self-respect. My preferred person today is one who is always aware of the needs of others, or their pain and fear and unhappiness, and their search for self-respect. I once liked clever people. Now I like good people."

-Solomon Freehof

So that's one of my favorite quotes. Whenever I get caught up in the vicious cycle of trying to be clever/funny --> not being that clever/funny --> wounded self-esteem cause I'm not that clever/funny --> trying to save flagging self-esteem by trying harder to be clever/funny, I like to fall back on this quote to remember the kind of person I really want to be. I do still enjoy clever people very much, and I think they occupy a special place in the world. But I also believe the world at this point could probably use more good people.

And the best part is, I think it's much easier to be good. It feels more within my reach.

Think where man's glory most begins and ends, And say my glory was I had such friends.

2011-07-31T17:13:00.006-09:00

In my p. blessing, I'm told that I will find true and good friends with whom to associate. Thus far, this has certainly been true. It might be easy to give myself the credit for picking such awesome friends, but I know this is not the case. See, I've got this bad habit of kinda sitting back and letting people come to me. For whatever reason, I don't often do a lot of seeking myself. Yet somehow, all the best people have fallen into my lap. I think the Lord must've felt so strongly that I would need good friends throughout my life, and perhaps decided to cut me some slack on this one and just hand them to me. Whatever the case, I am very blessed.

Take my friend Stephanie, for example.

In all seriousness, Steph is one of the most extraordinary people you will ever meet. She's got one of those larger-than-life personalities that just brims with enthusiasm for life and love for people. I swear the woman has more passion in her little toe than I have in my body. What's best about her though, in my opinion, is her ability to hone in on whatever is good and beautiful in a person. And it could be any kind of person. Present her with a long-haired unwashed heathen druggie and she will find a way to love them, to honestly think they are awesome. It's really quite uncanny. Lucky for me, I ended up making her acquaintance about 3.5 years ago, and she went right to work at finding something loveable in me. I've been blessed by her love and example ever since.

Take my friend, Kathryn (aka Paul).

My little Paul is currently serving a mission in Spokane, WA. I miss her and her zany ways. I could not have possibly had a better freshman roommate than this one. Tell me, what freshman girl would sit in my room with me every night, interspersing bouts of personal homework study with thought-provoking discussions on interreligious understanding and neo-feminism? On multiple occasions? What are the chances I would have gotten a roommate who shared my same appreciation for tragic foreign films and straight-up honey butter? What I love best about Paul is that she brings out the maybe not-so-inner nerd in me, and that our conversations are never dull. She has a way of consistently elevating casual drivel to deep discussions of the soul, no matter the time or place. Zany, deep, a kindred spirit in things both meaningful and mundane; I just love that Paul.

Take my friend, Jody (Jojo).

Look at this face and tell me you wouldn't look forward to work every day, too. Jojo is one of the sunniest people I have ever met. She finds pretty much everything delightful, and I find that delightful. My favorite thing about Jojo, though, is her extreme thoughtfulness. For instance, just a few minutes ago she bought me a bag of cheetos from the vending machine, for no reason at all! She is always sewing pillows and tutus for the neighborhood children, and just generally spreading good cheer wherever she goes. Also she is the most maternal person I have ever seen, rivaling, yes, even my own mother. In short, she's just the coolest. My life is definitely brighter for her place in it.

And Collette.

This girl is so brilliant it's not even funny, not even at all. Reading her blog posts is like staring into truth, custom-made for my comprehension! What I love best about her, besides the fact that she listens to new age music, is a budgeting and meal-planning diva, and doesn't seem to care a whit what people think of her, is the way she understands and helps others understand the gospel. What I initially admired about her was the way she probed into deeper layers of doctrine, you know, the stuff that usually falls through the cracks in sunday school. What I admire most about her now is the way she manages to do all that, and still tie it all back in the end to the simple truths of the gospel. Collette is my personal guru, and I love it.

And Audrey.

As shown here, Audge and myself share a certain undeniable kinship. The first time I ever really got to know her, I remember feeling distinctly that I was talking to a (hotter, more athletic) version of myself. This was confirmed later when I heard her say one night that all she wanted to do was "eat the night away." I knew then that I had stumbled onto something good. To this day, she is one of my very favorite people. Awesomely chill, non-judgmental, hilarious, gorgeous, has a way of making people feel instantly at ease around her. I frankly wish I was her. But until that transformation happens, I love being her friend.

JJ.

Whatever other status he has been, there's no getting around what an exceptional friend JJ has been to me, in the truest sense of the word. To be with someone who truly knows every ugly and vile thing about you, and to love you anyway - is this not the raddest dynamic two people can aspire to? I believe some souls come into this world a little purer in spirit than the rest of us, and JJ is one of those good souls. He sees people not only for who they are, but also for who they can become. I only hope that I can yet learn to see and love my fellow man the way he does.

Oh, Carol.

Twinner to my heart, lover to my soul, potential life partner if men don't work out for me. I've always known that I was lucky to have her, but the more I live, the more I realize just how rare our situation is, and how very very blessed I am. Friendship with Carol is as easy as breathing. She gets me. She, as well, knows every vile thing about me, yet still thinks I'm awesome. No one can make me laugh like her. She surprises me everyday with tidbits of wisdom far beyond both our years. Amid all the changes, the uprootings and surprises and goods and bads, she is constant. It is a rare thing to have a friend like this, I am finding, and I don't know how I managed to be one of the privileged few. But when you find a friend like this - one whose presence is comforting to you even if all you do is walk together in silence (literally AND metaphorically!) - well, eventually you stop asking questions. Instead you start pouring out thanks, you begin striving to be worthy of your associates. I am still working on that one.

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. "
-Clive

Aren't my friends the greatest?

What's been goin' on

2011-07-23T09:54:00.013-09:00

It's time to purge my camera of the various events I've remembered to document this summer.

Starting with, car-cleaning date with Carol! Brendan and Paula sure were grateful.

The best finds from our newly cleaned out cars: a card Carol gave me once that says something like, "Hey there, expectant mother", a super emo poem Carol wrote when she like 10 that ends with "and now I go to my watery grave", and a picture of Carol's mom graduating from college.

Carol and I also recently participated in the Pleasant Grove Strawberry Days Pie-Eating Contest. On the margin there you can see that I threw down some trash talk, which I instantly felt guilty about and tried to cross out without anyone noticing. No dice. Turns out it was justified though, almost, cause Carol won!

She got a shirt that said "Stick it in your pie hole." I was so proud of her that day, and only a little resentful that it wasn't me who won.

Every year Salt Lake City has a huge Arts Festival with vendors from all around the country. We knew if we went that there was a pretty good chance we would see unwashed crazies in their natural habitat. We were not disappointed. There was some pretty cool art, too.

Some entity known as Blazing Needles covered this car completely in knitting!

How cool would it be to have all these stone faces in your yard?!

I don't know if you can tell, but they really did look like photographs in person. This exhibit won best-of-show.

Carol really enjoys the fat-people art, and I must say it does have a certain endearing quality.

This man's sock was not strictly part of the festival. Or was it?

The guy who did these grapes paints all his stuff using his own blood. Pretty trippy.

Ok, so then there was this exhibit with blank pieces of wood that everyone got to paint, to be hung up on a wall as a collective mural.

When we realized they were handing out little cards with specific patterns we were supposed to be painting, and not just willy-nilly whatever we felt like doing with our brushes, we got up quietly and left with haste.

Moving on, here's me and Jdub at the Ft. Rucker 4th of July Bash! We ate gator-on-a-stick, and while I'm not going to say it tasted like chicken, it frankly did. Only a little chewier.

No your eyes do not deceive you, that is Gary Sinise and the Lt. Dan Band! They rocked! And of course Gary Sinise plays a mean bass, cause that guy is way rad.

So this is unfortunately the best picture I was able to take of Jdub sitting in a TH-67 helicopter, which they had out on display during the bash. But this is proof he flies them. Look how natural he looks sitting in that seat! You can see it better if you pivot your monitor screen back and forth.

Here's a picture of a guy climbing a tree to get a better view of The Decemberists at the twilight concert series in Salt Lake.

Can't really blame him, cause this is the best picture I was able to get of the indie-folk band myself. They were pretty cool though.

We kinda thought the dude on the far left of the picture with his hand in his mouth looked like Inigo Montoya.

Tried to watch the sunset from Capitol Hill, but unfortunately were a little too late so the pictures are less than impressive. But the building was impressive, I thought.

Finally, look what Bob found when he recently opened this can of "pineapple tidbits."

I think it looks like moldy brains, he thinks it looks like a baby alien stuffed into a can. Either way... not cool, Del Monte. Not cool.

Love Is Not Blind-- It Is Bound

2011-07-19T11:03:00.004-09:00

Special thanks goes to my friend Steph for recommending this talk to me. As soon as I heard the title I knew I would love it, and I did. I'm going to curb the desire to hash out the majority of my thoughts on the subject, as they are still in progress. But I will say that my own progression in relation to the gospel has followed a similar trajectory to the one outlined in this talk, so I appreciated seeing it addressed by elder Hafen, especially with such astute insight.

"The fundamental teachings of the restored gospel are potent, clear and unambiguous; but it is possible, on occasion, to encounter some ambiguity even in studying the scriptures... Even though God has given us correct principles by which we are to govern ourselves, it is not always easy to apply them to particular situations in our lives. "

No it is not easy, but it is, perhaps, the substance of what this earth life is all about. I would like to assert that it is through this uncertainty, and our continual efforts to apply the gospel to sometimes ambiguous situations, that we accomplish the majority of our growth. To always be striving, reaching, seeking to bridge the gap between what is and what should be - I think this is maybe a good thing to be. Not forever of course, but maybe just for now, while we transition our tastes from less milk to more meat.

Thoughts?

Stuff you already know

2011-07-14T07:34:00.006-09:00

I forgot to say in my last post, many thanks to everyone who contributed food advice to my desperate cause. You all had a lot of great suggestions, and I still intend to try out most of them. I will keep you updated on my progress. For instance, this morning I ate a banana and a pear. I'm feeling hopeful.

Quickie today, but one that I feel is very important-

A while ago I'd been thinking a lot about the interactions we have with other people, particularly the ones in which we strive to give comfort/advice. Observing my own interactions, as well as those between other people, I noticed a tendency first and foremost to try to soothe the immediate discomforts of others. Obviously this is a noble goal, and no one ought to be blamed for it. But, it seems to me that we often do this kind of soothing at the expense of the soothee's personal growth, which oftentimes requires not validation, but reprimanding. For instance: say a friend comes to you wanting to vent some frustration over a confrontation earlier that day in the supermarket. You listen actively, inserting the proper nods and facial expressions which indicate that you are understanding and sympathizing. Because you want to help this person, you most likely end up validating their frustration, agreeing that so-and-so was wrong to behave this way, and you were right to say this thing and feel this way.

But what if it's a lie?

What if, when you take a step back and look at the situation from an objective point of view, your friend appears to have been the one in the wrong? What if your friend is actually being unreasonable, or a whiny baby? What do you say then, when this person, in all trust, chose you to confide in?

It's hard to say, man. I'm not saying it's right every time to reprimand. There is a time and place for that, and sometimes it's not the time and place. And sometimes you are not the person who should do it. But, I do think it is important to evaluate all these factors before we jump in automatically and seek to patch the wound, to give them what they want instead of what they need. Sometimes the wound is necessary. Sometimes the person needs not to have their feelings confirmed, but to be jolted with a new perspective.

It's like my wise friend Collette once said: "This life is about changing." Indeed it is. How are any of us going to change for the better if our friends keep enabling our flaws, hmm?

I've been thinking about this a lot with regard to the company I keep, as well. I don't think I'm alone in admitting that some of my closest friends are people who happen to be a lot like me. Over time, perhaps not consciously, I have wittled away those who are different from me, who do not share my opinions and whose habits I can make no sense of. I am left with a bunch of quasi-me's. It's terrible egoistic, really. And what is it doing for me? Am I changing all that much when I'm with these people? Or am I rooting myself deeper into the stubborn beliefs and behaviors that we all share? I think we know the answer to this one.

Of course, it's more difficult to make friends with people who are different. We naturally gravitate toward those who we can relate to, and these are the friendships that develop and run most effortlessly. On the other hand, I've seen quite a lot of marriages composed of opposites which appeared to be all the more exciting and wonderful for their differences. So you tell me.

I thought this was going to be a quickie.

A Series of Unfortunate Events That, Mercifully, Led to Tommy Gunn

2011-07-05T11:44:00.006-09:00

WARNING: THIS POST IS FOREVER LONG AND WHINY (but there's a hopeful ending, I promise)

Sunday, June 26, 8pm: I am skyping my Jdub (think less evangelical proselyter, more snuggly aviator) when up comes the idea to have me fly out to AL to see Jdub in action. Sounds like a swell plan, no? I hop on the priceline. I plug in the dates. I enter the card information...wait, what? Card information? Wait, I just bought a flight? Ok, I just bought a flight. See you in a few, Jdub.

10pm: Oh, so the ticket I inadvertently just bought happens to be taking place during the worst times possible, like for instance, spanning the four-day period of my first test in Psychological Testing? And it leaves at 7:20am on a weekday? And all my close-enough-to-ask-for-a-ride-to-the-airport friends are out of town? Class dropped, shuttle service booked.

10:15pm: Oh, and the flight I accidentally bought doesn't even go to where Jdub resides, but instead to Atlanta, GA which is four hours away from where he is, which he is unable to reach for another 24 hours after I arrive, due to his strict flying school and flying schedule? Oh, and there are no buses going that route that day? Uh-huh, ok.

10:30pm: Oh, and I can't rent a car to drive there myself because I'm under 25 and they charge exhorbitant fees for that, not to mention they require a credit card which I don't possess, not to mention the base fare for renting a car is actually a million dollars? Uh-huh, yes, ok, going to bed now.

Monday, June 27, 7am: You mean there's not even ONE person looking for a carpool rider from Atlanta to Dothan according to erideshare.com? Oh, and all the people offering their couches to me via couchsurf.com look like they just busted out of the county pedophile unit? All right. And hitchhiking is NOT a good idea, right Ma? All right then, if you say so.

7:30am-10pm: Some stress.

10:30pm: Jdub, really, you don't have to buy a whole nother expensive plane ticket just to get me from Atlanta to Dothan. Really, there must be some other way, that's such a waste of money. No seriously, I can find a way to get there, it's only four hours I've always wanted to explore the deep south by foot ok sounds good, I owe you buddy, see ya then.

Wednesday, June 29, 12pm: That's cool, airplane. That's cool that you disregard the importance of connecting flights and instead feel inclined to taxi on the runway for a hundred years so that even though I run from Terminal F to Terminal B as fast as my little legs can take me, they are already folding in the fold-up stairs when I arrive breathless at the gate. And then it turns out that that's not even my plane, they actually already left (10 minutes early, check out that efficiency!) but luckily the nice lady rebooks me for another flight. And I now have time to use the super-awesome, super-technological, self-sanitizing rotating toilet seat covers native to the O'Hare Airport (thought this narrative could use a little bright spot).

Approx. 7pm: I'm finally here, hooray! Just need to grab my bag and then this hellish adventure will be over, except why are you stopping the baggage conveyor so soon? I haven't gotten my bag yet, you see. Oh, so you don't have it, customer service? And you don't have any idea where it is, huh. Even though I checked it plane-side, right, right. So you'll let me know if it shows up but no guarantees, uh-huh, ok. Yeah sure, I won't sue, what's a tiny glitch like this when here comes Jdub, all sweaty and glowing from the skies!

9pm: Anonymous passenger returns my bag - it was an accident, they say, they look just like each other. Whatever, man. All I have to say is my netflix better still be in there.

For a few days there is peace, and there is bliss.

Monday, July 4, 6pm: Welp, I better go print my boarding passes for tomorrow...

...No boarding pass for Dothan to Atlanta, huh? Now that's odd. I could've sworn it's leaving in less than 24 hours which means I should be able to - oh, we botched the dates? Oh, this flight accidentally got booked for Wednesday instead of tomorrow? Which means I need a way to get to Atlanta to make my Atlanta flight tomorrow, yes. And cause I used the name-your-own-price feature of priceline, my Atlanta flight is absolutely non-cancellable. And people say long-distance relationships are difficult!

6:30pm: Well, I was really hoping to avoid the bus this time, but I guess I have no choice - Jdub is back to being locked into rigid flight schedules and can't spare 8 hours to drive me to Atlanta. Bus ride booked for Atlanta, leaving tonight at 2am. Jdub's friend, let's call him Hank, is recruited to take me to the station in Dothan. Good thing I love travel. Good thing Jdub has some money to burn.

11:00pm: I call Hank to confirm that we are leaving in a little over an hour for the station. Confirmed, back to bed for a few more minutes.

Tuesday, July 5, 12:45am: I call Hank again to make sure he is awake and about ready to come pick me up for our trip to the station. He is.

1:15am: Hank is MIA. I decide not to worry just yet.

1:30am: Where is Hank? You know, I really didn't want to ride that sketchy bus, anyway.

1:45am: Yep, there's no way I'm making this bus tonight.

2am: Dealing with this mess in the morning, goodnight.

9am: Hank calls apologetically, saying he fell asleep shortly after I called him last night. I tell him quite honestly that it's all good, because, have you ever actually ridden greyhound? How about in the middle of the night through the deep south?

9am-1pm: Arrangements, arrangements, money leaving Jdub's credit card, calling and apologizing to boss-doing, buying new bus ticket because the one bought last night can't be transferred, new bus ticket bought, new plane ticket bought, it's freaking hot in here cause the aircon don't work, and we're done.

And that, folks, is how I came to justify myself in plopping down on this Alabama carpet while Jdub is at school, for the purpose of resuming my weeklong Rocky obsession and finding some solace in the Italian Stallion's unimaginative yet comforting aphorisms. Soon Jdub will be home and we will study transmission oil temps till we pass out, and we will do this every day until I leave, for reals this time, next week.

You see, in all the struggle, I have finagled myself another week with my favorite person.

Everything usually does kinda work out, huh?

2011-06-26T16:45:00.006-09:00

Dear Foodie Readers of this Blog,

I need your help. As most of you probably know, healthy eating is not one of my strong points, and never has been. My two best friends, bread and ice cream, can attest to this fact. Being no fool to the benefits of a diet high in fruits and vegetables, however, I recently underwent a challenge. My self-imposed challenge was to eat nothing but fruits and vegetables for a week (maybe more!). My friends, I lasted four hours before I decided that no person in their right mind would ever undertake, much less be able to, subsist on this crazy diet of air - I mean produce - for more than one apple. It took four hours.

Dear foodie readers, how can I change my ways? I want to change, I really do, but it seems oh so insurmountable. My biggest obstacle, I think, is my inability to think of produce as actual food. I know, what's wrong with this generation, right? Back in the day, fruits and vegetables were the definition of real food, or so I hear. But seriously. When I eat an orange, I feel like I am eating flavored water. It tastes sweet, sure, but it is no more food to me than gum is. I could eat 2,000 calories worth of raw food and still feel like I was starving, simply because I hadn't bitten into anything with substance that day (actually that's a lie, I would never make it to 2,000 calories, as my short-lived challenge has proven).

I know there's the chips made out of kale, and the mashed "potatoes" made out of cauliflower. And I do take comfort in the possibility of these. But is it enough? Is there a way to eat more fruits and veggies and still enjoy eating? Or do I need to suck it up and accept the fact that a healthy Mish is one who has come to terms with a lifetime of flavored water?

Please help.

Sincerely,
Picky in Provo

Plans

2011-06-18T18:45:00.005-09:00

On the right, you will see that I have created a label cloud. It seemed like a bloggy thing to do. And, man, with labels like 'depression' and 'narcissistic', it is little wonder to me that so many of you (all five of you) keep coming back! I sure know how to keep the troops entertained!

Anyway, here's some things I'm thinking about doing with my life if my schooling proves fruitless:

-professional wreck diving
-family history-working
-manatee-saving
-white water raft-guiding
-living somewhere not in this country-ing
-enchiladas
-playing the banjo-ing
-speaking Arabic-ing
-rugby

Now I know what you are thinking. Wreck-diving and raft-guiding sound kind of adventurous and athletic. And rugby? Is she confused? Nope, folks, after years of searching I think I've finally found my inner moxie, and these are the places I want it to take me. Which means that, when that day comes when going out and doing something sounds more appealing than sitting on my bed watching Netflix, I will know exactly what to do. I am growing up, everybody.

If you read the Arabic-speaking part and thought that was kind of bizarre, it's ok. It is to me too. If you read enchiladas and thought maybe that wasn't a very realistic thing to do with your life, then maybe you, too, have a lot of growing up to do.

Now go show some lovin' to your Fa's!

More than words is all you have to do to make it real

2011-06-14T18:04:00.008-09:00

A depthy post on the nature of love is far beyond the scope of this blog (and let's face it, far beyond my comprehension). But I will say this: I think it's very easy for us to offer the words "I love you" as just that - an offering; a gift. We often say it in the same way we would give a compliment; a sort of kind gesture from me to you. The gift I give is the way I feel about you. This is not to say that the backing sentiment is phony, but simply that we don't always take pains for our meanings.

The sages of our time often inform us that love has more to do with our actions than our emotions, and while that sounds all noble and good, the thing is that it seems to actually, quite literally be true.

Exhibit A: Some time ago I began to feel uneasy whenever I got to that part in my prayers when I told the Lord that I "loved Him." My subconscious understanding of love being a gift rendered my declaration immediately ridiculous. Who am I to think that I have anything to give that He doesn't already have? The implication of gift-giving is that one must have and one must lack, and this is never the case in our relationship with the Omnipotent God. Even more disturbing, if love is simply a way of feeling about someone, who am I to "feel" towards the Lord as a man feels towards his pet dog, or the mountains, or Beethoven symphonies? The notion implies a sort of evaluation I have over some sort of raw material. To assume that I have any sort of capacity for evaluating the Lord is probably the most outrageous and offensive thing ever.

But alas, the saving grace lies in the fact that I was wrong about love. It is not a gift you give by saying it. It is an explanation for something you're already doing. Ideally, when I tell you I love you, it is a pleasant but unnecessary caption for the illustration of everything I am doing to support, nurture, and care for you. And you see, when we look at it this way, it makes perfect sense to tell the Lord we love Him. We are not so much expressing a sentiment to Him as we are committing ourselves to continue serving him; to act in charity towards Him and all men, because charity is the pure love of Christ.

There, doesn't that just FEEL better?

Of Vice and Virtue

2011-05-16T18:04:00.007-09:00

Ok, so perhaps you all DON'T have thoughts on that last issue. That's cool, that's cool, but what about this one?

The other day I was thinking about all the people I respect and admire most, and I noticed that they all seem to have pretty much the same traits in common. These people are kind, selfless, temperate, wise. They are humble and hard-working. These are people whom I consider to be as perfect as mortality allows; people who seem, based on my perception anyway, to be as close to Christ as one gets in this world. I realized that all these people were more or less alike each other, at least more alike than the rest of us baddens. Which made me wonder if this is sort of what Tolstoy was getting at:

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way (Anna Karenina).

There are a lot of ways to be bad (unhappy), but goodness (happiness) comes in pretty much the same forms - kindness, temperance, wisdom, humility, industriousness. It seems that the closer we get to Christ, the more alike we become - which makes perfect sense because we are, after all, converging into the same thing; that is, Christ Himself.

I was about ready to pat myself on the back for finally solving the mystery of what the heck Leo was talking about, when it occurred to me that perhaps there aren't so many ways to be bad after all. Could one just as easily say that badness is all the same, too? Cruelty, gluttony, foolishness, pride, sloth - are not all our sins some variation of these big'ns?

I know someone's gotta have an opinion on this! Also, 20 points to moi for using 'badden' and 'big'n' in the same post! I'm on an alliteral roll!

Also, I just remembered that my bro Bryce once offered a different interpretation of the Tolstoy quote which I think is also quite insightful. Go here to see it.

The best part about this post is that I got to use the words 'ephemeral' and 'evanescent'

2011-05-13T19:49:00.008-09:00

Pride has been on my mind a lot lately. And I'm not even talking about Westview Pride. By some stroke of divine wisdom/punishment, I feel that I've lately become more inclined to notice my own pride in all its many manifestations, which has led me to conclude that I am actually one of the most prideful people as has ever walked the earth. I know, it's so paradoxical right, cause look at me right now! I'm being all humble by acknowledging my faults and stuff, right? Well, maybe I was for a fleeting moment there, but even now I am back to being prideful about what a humble gal I am, and that ephemeral humility is three blocks down the street again. It seems that humility, like the present, is hopelessly evanescent. And yet, it must not be a completely hopeless virtue to strive for, or else I wouldn't feel shame for not having it, would I? There must still be people out there who have learned the secret of how to pin it down for at least longer than a moment. In fact, I'm pretty certain there are, because sometimes you can just tell those kinds of people.

My inability to pin down humility for longer than a millisecond is discouraging, but I have hope yet than I can improve. My wise missionary friend Sorella Jacobson pointed out that perhaps the best plan of attack for eliminating pride is not to tirelessly chase humility, but rather to focus on replacing pride with something that is equally accessible but better, like selfless service. She says our minds are a stage, and that only one act can be played on it at a time, so perhaps it is better to replace one bad act with a good one, and then humility might come as a fringe benefit. I'm still uncertain about this, but I certainly think it's worth a shot.

I know you all have thoughts on this. Let's hear 'em!

Camera as of late

2011-04-12T19:34:00.004-09:00

Not that my camera is terribly representative of what life is really like - nevertheless, here's some recent pictures I thought some might enjoy.

The Rex Lee Run got run, oh yes it did. In your face, cancer!

JoJo had a birthday! We made her this cheery owl cake, which means that I made the cake and Carol made it cute.

Oh JoJo, I love that kid.

Hey, it's JJ! And me! Oh, and we're snorkeling, which happens to be my favorite thing to do ever.

This was my first time to FL, or even to the south at all for that matter. I loved it. It's America's best kept secret (besides Appalachia's drunken little people, but we won't get into that just now).

I have to admit that the snorkeling this time around was less than impressive - we saw nary a fish, mostly just urchins and clams - but one lucky diver did manage to find this guy:

Yeah, he's pretty adorable.

Well sorry everyone, that was probably the most boring post that's ever happened to you. I'm so bored I think I'm going to go to bed even. Hey, and whatever happened to that weird indie LTLYM series I was going to do? Huh. Ok, bed.

Musana Jewelry

2011-03-11T12:52:00.007-09:00

Also, in honor of International Women's Day, Musana Jewelry is having a sale! 100% of proceeds go to Ugandan artisans. I just bought these sweet babies:

Be stylish, support international women!

My New Favorite Thing

2011-03-11T10:00:00.001-09:00

What They Didn't Teach You in Sunday School

2011-03-07T14:33:00.006-09:00

Please pardon the brief interruption in my LTLYM series, but I can't afford to have anyone left in the dark about this particular truth any longer. What truth am I so conspiratorially hinting at? The truth about humility.

Ok, qualifier, maybe it was just me. All I know is that I didn't really understand humility very well until...erm, recently. To me, the process of being humbled appeared to be a rather peaceful thing. You're prideful, something causes you to recognize your pridefulness, you quietly chide yourself and strive to knock it off. Or maybe someone calls you out on your pridefulness, in which case there's some embarrassment thrown in. Either way, it's a calm procedure.

Not so! The truth is that being humbled hurts. It hurts like heck. It is like the jagged, metal edge of your will scraping up against the equally jagged will of the Lord, with sparks flying and horrid nails-on-the-chalkboard sounds emitting and absolutely no progress being made. Or here's another metaphor: How about a dogfight between your will and the Lord's, except the Lord is an Irish Wolfhound and you're a Pomeranian. Obviously you're going to lose eventually, but you're a stubborn little pom and won't give up without a fight. It's very violent. Blood is drawn. Limbs are yanked and crushed. But still you fight on, because this is your will we're talking about! Deep down you know it is the most important thing you possess, and more importantly, the only thing you really have control over. Certainly you're not going to give up something like that so easily.

But the hard truth is that if we want to become "new creatures in Christ", as Clive puts it, then the will must be killed. That feisty little animal inside of us that represents everything we desire and everything we hope for - it has to go. These are the conditions that have always been set out for us. We are promised that if we give Him everything; that is, absolutely everything, He will throw out this old decrepit creature of ours and replace it with a new one, one that is of a different and a far better quality than anything we can now comprehend.

Clive obviously knew all this, and said it much more eloquently than I can:

Give up your self, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with him everything else thrown in.

So, that was pretty much all I wanted to say. I have felt my own animal slowly dying lately, and it hasn't been pretty. But I have hope that I can kill it yet. And I recognize that this animal of mine tends to come back in all sorts of yappy reincarnations, which is why I must always be fighting it. So, yeah. Feeling pretty confident that I'm going to be living a full 70+ years cause I'm afraid it's going to take about that long to kill this creature once and for all.

To end:

So it is that real, personal sacrifice never was placing an animal on the altar. Instead, it is a willingness to put the animal in us upon the altar and letting it be consumed! Such is the “sacrifice unto the Lord … of a broken heart and a contrite spirit,” (D&C 59:8), a prerequisite to taking up the cross, while giving “away all [our] sins” in order to “know God” (Alma 22:18) for the denial of self precedes the full acceptance of Him.

Elder Maxwell, everybody.

2.

2011-03-04T14:47:00.009-09:00

2. Draw a Constellation From Someone's Freckles

Here is my left forearm (my most freckled part) with a little emphasis from Paint.

(Aren't you glad my paint skills are back on display? I sure am)

Learning to Love You More

2011-03-01T19:43:00.008-09:00

I was reading in Oprah about this cooperative creativity project called Learning to Love You More, that just ended this year. Over its seven-year duration, the creators would periodically make some quirky assignment that stimulated expression and originality, and people could send in their responses. I think it became some sort of cool community exhibit thing. Anyway, I thought it was a pretty neat idea. I like the idea of a collaborative online project, and I often wish I was more creative. I also tend to fancy indie quasi-questionable pursuits like this, especially if it's run by some cat by the name of Miranda July and she looks like this

Love it.

The point is, I'm going to try some of them out on my blog. It seems only fitting, especially since I recently decided that Nat the Fat Rat is actually really full of herself and annoying, so that's not happening anymore. Sorry to disappoint anyone who still may have been wondering about Smith's and Velveeta Cheese.

1. Write A Caption for a Misleading Picture

I'll do ya one better and give you two!

Christie's wedding, August 2007. I look at this picture and all I feel is stress. I don't think I need to remind most of you why, cause you were there, after all. The wedding itself was beautiful and peachy (although Christie probably still believes otherwise, unfortunately). But the events preceding were a different story. At this very moment in time, I had just emerged from the bridal prep room where Tiff was fecklessly trying to add last-minute sleeves to the bridal gown, I was even more fruitlessly attempting to fix Tiff's g's, we were an hour late, safety pins had provoked blood which had somehow made it onto the gown, children were tired and screaming, Ma was nagging, Tiff was crying, everyone was sweaty, I'm pretty sure we got robbed and someone probably died, etc. Anyway, I had just emerged from this fiery room of struggled to get something or other, when the waiting photographer figured he'd try to get his money's worth and snapped this picture. And somehow, it made the cut; I'm assuming because it has taken on a serene interpretation. Now how do you like that?

Xi'an, China, July 2008. This one is honestly so ironic to me, mostly because we look like a couple, no? And I look terribly happy to be in his arms, yes? Well, I wouldn't say I was terribly unhappy to be there, but it's definitely not what it looks like. I was the definition of ambivalent at this point, and for me he was a friend, absolutely nothing more. I remember our tour guide making not-so-subtle remarks about our status, including invitations to come back someday with our children. We laughed it off and felt slightly uncomfortable, but mostly I just knew that that was never going to happen. Life's funny sometimes.

Faith, Reason, Knowledge, and Truth, and Brazilian Buffet

2011-02-02T16:51:00.007-09:00

Ok, I know I've been building you up to this epic Nat-like post about Smith's, but frankly there is no time for that these days. Don't worry, it's coming! (read: it's probably never coming) In the meantime, read this amazing speech by a retired BYU psych professor. If you think you know what faith is, think again.

And cause I know some of you are visual learners, unrelated picture of me at Tucano's.

(see that face I'm making? That's how I feel about this speech. Boom, related)

Matters of Business

2011-01-24T11:32:00.012-09:00

Before I begin my Nat-training regimen, I just have a few assorted thoughts to put on paper, if you will, thoughts that I didn't think were very becoming of a blog like Nat's. Actually what I'm really doing is letting myself off the hook cause all I plan to do is get these thoughts/statements out there without bothering to elaborate, clarify, or justify myself. Sweet.

1. You know how we seem to have this reality that exists outside of all our thoughts, the objective "things as they really are"? Why is that reality so hard to penetrate? I feel like my reality, anyway, is composed of mortar and brick. Whenever I read a really inspiring article, for instance, that goes radically against my general outlook and motivates me to start thinking a different way. Or whenever I get to experience a particularly good class lecture, or Relief Society lesson, or what have you. But for the sake of brevity let's go back to the inspiring article scenario. So I'm sitting there at the computer, absorbed in this exciting bubble of inspiration.
Eventually I have to get up from the computer and go about the rest of my day, and unfortunately I always find that that bubble of inspiration pops somewhere between the ASB and the MARB, or maybe somewhere between campus and my apartment. The point is that it inevitably leaves me. That inspiring article I read not 20 minutes ago becomes only a hazy memory of something that was a nice idea, but not realistic. THIS is how things really are. Kind of like how when you're depressed, everything you think becomes truth. All those positive thoughts you once had were comforting while they lasted, but they weren't reality. When it comes down to it, THIS is what's real. THIS is what's always been real, you just got distracted for a while. I just think it's very sad, because I feel like it makes it so difficult to implement positive changes in my life. Does this ring true for anyone else/make sense to anyone else? Oh well, this is the blog post of not justifying myself, so I'll move on.

2. Is there really anyone out there who still believes in individualism? Show me that person, and I will interrogate them, and eventually I will get it out of them that in their heart of hearts, they are actually collectivists. How else do you account for the fact of our relationships being the most painful slash exultant things in our lives? Ok, so maybe I'm being excessively simplistic here, and probably don't fully understand what individualism and collectivism actually mean - but really, folks. Like it or not, relationships are what it's all about.

3. I was reading in Luke the other day about the woman who came to Jesus and bathed his feet with her tears. It's striking that she had such a complete understanding of how glorious He was and how unworthy she was in comparison, but then it occurred to me that this woman's faith was rooted in something that hadn't even happened yet. And then it made me wonder, is it harder to have faith in an Atonement that has yet to happen, or in one that supposedly happened thousands of years ago? They are both things that are not seen, so maybe one isn't harder than the other, but I do wonder. C. thinks it must've been somehow more difficult to have faith back then, which is why the Mosaic Law was implemented, but I just don't know.

4. Art. It's so cool. Basically all I was going to say about The Stranger was that it reawakened me to what good fiction is all about, at least in my opinion. It's an art form. For a long time I've sort of shunned fiction from my shelves, feeling like it was too trivial/boring because it wasn't real. But after reading this simple, 120 pg. book I realized that there's so much more to fiction than that, at least good fiction. The process of crafting a story- of developing characters, conveying very specific feelings, expressing certain meanings so poignantly - this is not easy to do, and when done well, the effect on the reader is anything but trivial.* I'm finally beginning to understand that a good novel can be just as beautiful as any Oscar-winning movie, or a truly kick-a piece of music à la Mahler. They're all art. I am humbled by this epiphany (It's actually not surprising that this realization came to me so late, seeing that artistry in general does not come easily to me. My intro to film class last semester worked me like a dog, plus I can't draw to save my life).

5. Finally, a survey: Why do you eat? How much of it is because a) You like the taste of the food you eat, b) you like the process of being satiated/don't like being hungry, c) you anticipate long-term benefits like the effect is has on your body/mood/health, or d) you like the process of chewing and swallowing something? I'm assuming, of course, that most of you have motivations outside of basic survival. My personal breakdown of the four motivations is 40%, 20%, 0%, and 40%, respectively (which, coincidentally, is why I'll never be skinny). Oh, eating.

Start getting pumped for my next post featuring a delightful romp at Smith's!

*you can do all these things in non-fiction too, of course, but it's not nearly as creative and thus not nearly as impressive.

Me + Nat + Fat + Rat

2011-01-19T11:18:00.005-09:00

Hold on everyone, there's been a change in plans.

So I've been meaning for some time now to write this really brilliant post about Art, spurred by my finishing of The Stranger and thoroughly outlined in my head on the plane from O'Hare to McCarran. It was going to be pithy and excellent, this post about Art, and it was supposed to last me until my next post in mid-June. But here's what happened.

I came across this article.

First of all, I think the article is right on in its evaluation of Mormon housewife bloggy goodness, save for the subtle anti-Mormon slights and the obligatory rip at Utah's superlative anti-depressant prescription rate (think ALCOHOL, people). But second of all, this Nat character sounds intriguing.

Sure enough, she is. She is just like every other delightfully witty, disarmingly quirky, adorable Mormon housewife with a blog, and yet.... and yet, I've fallen in girl-crush with this one. I want her retro-indie style, her post-modern blog layout, her periodic mentions of an unassuming husband, her RIDICULOUSLY FAT BABY. I want it all. Naturally I began to ponder - how do I get me some of this Mormon housewife bloggy goodness?

I figured my own blog would be a good start. Yet I find I am far from where I need to be. I don't use nearly enough paragraphs.

I don't take nearly enough polaroids.

I could really stand to work on the whole stream-of-consciousness listen people this is how it is onomatopoeia social insight conversational tone thing.

It would help to have an unassuming husband and a roll-y baby.

But I figure if I start now -that is, if I get my act together and triple my current intake of housewife blogs, then double my output of housewife imitation posts, plus imbue my thought with less existential and more commonplace, plus stop using the word 'imbue' - if I start these things now, why, I ought to be my own Nat by the time I'm, oh, 25, which should coincide perfectly with my own charming, domestic, polaroid-iffic future! Do I miscalculate?

I debated whether or not I should even provide the link of my inspiration, what with me being a Nat-in-training and all and looking terribly pathetic in the meantime. The switch from occasional, depressing post about humanity to everyday quirky post about Velveeta cheese is not going to be an easy one. But, I figure if I let you all in on my goal, you can help steer me in pursuit of it. If I'm trying too hard, please let me know. These things do take time.

Stay tuned for a delightful romp at Smith's, plus some irrelevant things that are also delightful!

I got my license, fools

2010-12-15T11:09:00.002-09:00

And I actually did have plenty of other things I could have been doing besides creating this absurd graphic, so, that should tell you how big of a deal this is.

Claiming What's Rightfully Mine

2010-12-09T08:23:00.008-09:00

December is great. I like December. Here are two reasons why:

1. Christmas.
2. Birthday freebies.

Yesterday I spent a very productive hour online signing up for a multitude of birthday clubs and newsletters. My motivation? It's simple, darling!

How about a:
Free frozen creation on your birthday at Cold Stone Creamery?
$15 off coupon at Happy Sumo anytime during the month of your birthday?
Free burger on your birthday at Red Robin?
Free meal at Benihana (up to $30) anytime during the month of your birthday?

If this doesn't sound appealing to you, well then, you are not my son. In addition to the beauties listed above, I also have morsels waiting for me at Baskin Robbins, Papa Murphy's, Mimi's Cafe. Marie Callender's, Noodles & Company, Red Lobster, and probably others that I don't remember right now because I was clearly experiencing some sort of manic episode at the time and cannot be held accountable for my actions.

I'm well aware now that I can expect to be deluged with a flood of irrelevant emails from the above-listed chains. But you know what? It's actually worth it. And just so you know, these are only the ones I had to sign up for. There are plenty others where you just walk in and say it's your birthday, and bam! free sundae for you. Sometimes I love this world.

Yes, this is going to be a fine month indeed. And my actual birthday? Let's just say I will not be celebrating that day in my skinny jeans.

Six Books That Have Significantly Influenced My Worldview

2010-11-30T07:03:00.009-09:00

I'm pretty sure it was inspired when I got into a conversation one day with JJ that ended in him marching me to the bookstore and making me buy this book. Pretty sure I didn't really understand the Atonement - or the gospel, for that matter - until I read this.

Some may deem Dr. L to be heavy-handed and unreasonable, and maybe that is sometimes the case. Nevertheless, reading this book endowed me with a perspective on marriage and men that was radically different from everything I had ever believed on the subject, yet which I knew to be absolutely true. A must-read for every female.

If you read this blog at all, you know how I love this book. Solomon's exhaustive research makes it terrifically informative; personal accounts render it intensely affecting. I found the reading of this book to be cathartic without waning overly sentimental. My go-to for everything related to the big D.

Probably the single most relevant book I've read to date. The premise is simple, yet the contents quite honestly rocked my world. Pretty much the basis for everything I believe and everything I aim to do in my life. What is the myth of self-esteem, anyway? Not telling, you'll have to go here.
(Thanks to Fa for gifting me his copy, btw).

Truly, no one could have done justice to a subject like this except our man Clive. Reading it humbled me in a way that I'd never been humbled before, and my entire conception of deity has never since been the same. If you haven't read it, please do so. Now. Read it now.

Oh man. Jack helped me get in touch with a whole side of my humor I never even knew I had. Today he is my number one source for gauging wit compatibility; that is, if you find this anecdote anywhere near hilarious, it's a pretty good bet that you and I are going to be friends.

Everything is cool

2010-10-21T10:10:00.007-09:00

Here's a brief update in "things-that-were-awesome" format:

Painting and beautifying our room was awesome.

The circus was super weird, and awesome.

This fruit basket cake I made for Carol's birthday, which happened to be vegan, which happened to be the most delicious chocolate cake anyone had ever had, was awesome.

Seeing this disturbed little man perform in concert was AWESOME.

Free tickets to Motocross was awesome.

This book was awesome.

Phoenix was much too short, but still awesome.

And those are the things that are awesome.

Sorry guys

2010-10-11T11:11:00.005-09:00

Zugman called me out on being emo. I had begun to suspect as much, especially since no one is brave enough to comment anymore. See, I've got this obnoxious need to make my truths beautiful, but it's true, let's get real - unless you're a really good writer, it usually just comes out sounding whiny. So, I'd like to formally apologize to my faithful readers, and give you my committed pledge from henceforth to spare you the maudlin confessionals and start taking more from my fluffier truths. Like this mustachioed picture of and C. and me.

Morning

2010-09-17T07:36:00.009-09:00

"But at three o’clock in the morning, a forgotten package has the same tragic importance as a death sentence... in a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day."

F. Scott Fitzgerald said that, and I think we all know exactly what he means. We wake up in the middle of the night as if we had been violently shaken, but really, it is only our frenetic mind, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to get a head start on the day's anxieties. It is the loneliest, most helpless moment we face the entire day. It is one of the darkest nights the soul can know.

My three o'clock is 6:25am, five minutes before my alarm goes off. At that moment I am flooded with that familiar early-morning experience that can only be described as panic, and I am wide awake. Every anxiety, doubt or dark thought that I have ever thought overwhelms me at once, as if they had all joined forces the night before and made a solemn pact to keep me from leaving my bed. At that moment, I am aware of every single thing that I must do today, only the degree of difficulty for each seems magnified one hundred fold and I know that there's no way I can be expected to get up and face that amorphous cloud of pain. Only a crazy person would willingly put themselves through that. It is a wonder that any of us get out of bed at all.

But we do. That's just the thing. Every day, millions of us get out of bed, and that alone should be an incredible piece of hope for us. Not only because it demonstrates the resilient nature of humans, but because it proves that our faith is indeed rewarded - or else we wouldn't keep doing it, would we? We get out of bed solely on the basis of faith - faith that the day will get easier, that it won't be nearly as painful as it seems now, that somehow we will pass the hours and be able to return at the end to our sleepy oblivion. To require such extreme faith at such an early hour seems like too much to ask sometimes, yet we prove day after day that it is not too much. And the best part is that it does get better. Sometimes only in a matter of minutes. It is all about that initial test that takes place when our windows are yet dark and our minds foggy.

If you got out of bed this morning, consider yourself high-fived. Don't underestimate the courage it required of you.

Stay faithful, everyone.

Perplexed, Portland

2010-09-02T09:14:00.010-09:00

There's been a question burning in my soul for quite some time now, one that I've alluded to before but that I would like to now formally pose to you all:

Where do trials come from, and are we supposed to fight them?

Let me illustrate my confusion with a quote from George Q. Cannon:

"Do not allow darkness and gloom to enter into your hearts. I want to give you a rule by which you may know that the spirit which you have is the right spirit. The Spirit of God produces cheerfulness, joy, light and good feelings. Whenever you feel gloomy and despondent and are downcast, unless it be for your sins, you may know it is not the Spirit of God which you have. Fight against it and drive it out of your heart. The Spirit of God is a spirit of hope; it is not a spirit of gloom."

It seems straightforward enough, but here's what I don't get: Aren't darkness and gloom just like any other trial we mortals are subjected to? And aren't trials, after all, very good for the development of our characters, and indeed necessary for our eternal progression? My understanding is that (correct me if I'm missing something), while gloom and despondency themselves may not come of God, they are still vital experiences that He allows us to suffer for His own wise purposes. I've certainly felt in my life that the pains which have so alienated me from everything light and truth have also, paradoxically, drawn me closer to Him, and for this reason I would never trade those experiences.

Why, then, would I ever want to fight these feelings that ultimately improve me? Who would I be without these refining experiences?

And if these refining experiences are the will of the Lord, as I believe they are, then who am I to think that my own feeble efforts could do anything to remove them anyhow?

I just don't know. While you're pondering that, here's my pix from Portland last month:

We gon' find you

2010-08-26T05:59:00.004-09:00

All I have to say is, of course the summer I decide to stop making rape and racist jokes, this video would come out:

Followed by this one:

Maybe next summer.

I Am Grateful For My Hands

2010-08-08T13:58:00.009-09:00

Why? Because they allow me to make all sorts of awesome crafts!

Yes, I know this is a domain already very thoroughly explored by someone else we know, and to be honest, I'm pretty late getting onto the scene. But, after happening upon some craft blogs a few weeks back, I decided to try my hand at some of the twee little projects I found. Actually, to be more accurate, I got overtaken by the twee little projects I found, and was slave to them 24/7 until they were finished - there really wasn't a lot of free will involved.

I totally understand now why quelquejour exists. These things really do take over your life. One day you're fine, just livin' your life, and then by some freak accident you come across a tutorial online for a ruffly, DIY whathaveyou, and suddenly you cannot think about anything else; you spend all your free time contemplating fabric glue and stop-fray; you can't pay attention in class because you're too busy trying to figure out when you can get yourself up to Joann next. Basically your life is robbed from you until you find a way to make whatever adorable thing it is you found online. It doesn't help that there are SO MANY of them, so that there's this constant to-do list in your mind of all the crafts you need to make before you can rest again. It all makes sense now.

Thankfully, I think my episode is coming to a close. I still have a few lingering items on my list, but the major projects are finished and I hope to be allowed a hiatus, because honestly, that was getting a little ridiculous. And after a while it's not even fun anymore, you just want to get it done. And in the end your project never looks as good as the one on the tutorial.

But anyhow, here are the finished products!

Embellished tee. Unfortunately my camera sucks so it's hard to see, but the gist is that I cut out a bunch of fabric hearts of the same color and sewed them all over the neckline.

Voila, dressed-up tee.

Here I did the same thing, except with flowers instead of hearts. Again, sorry it looks like vomit. I promise it's actually pretty.

Rosette shirt! This one is my fave, and was actually very easy to make, if rather time-consuming.

This one used to be my 'I only like NY as a friend' shirt, but I've never liked how it was so obviously ironed-on, so I decided to put a geisha silk screen on top of it instead. Geishas: Unfortunate historical symbols, great fashion!

Ok, I know ribbon/flower headbands are soOoOoOo trendy these days, and trust me, that did discourage me somewhat. But I had to try them. This blurry one is a white bow.

And despite what the camera would have you believe, these flowers are pink.

And here are all the others.

This one is an exact replica of a project I saw on Dear Lizzy. It's a little funky-er, but I like it. Plus, it was super easy.

Ok. Now for a change in pace.
A few months back I saw this beautiful cake in O magazine. I believe my exact thoughts went something like, "That cake is sooo pretty, and I bet it's super easy to make, too!"

Here's how my confidence translated. (Granted, I had pretty much given up by the time the fondant flowers were supposed to go on, which is why you can see they didn't even make it to flower form).

Crestfallen, I swore I would never make a cake again. Until this week, when I decided to give it another go, what the heck.

Slightly more respectable, and now I can rest in peace. I'm pretty sure I will never attempt anything like this again, though. As it turns out, cake-decorating is actually really really really difficult. But it's also really trendy, so maybe I'll save my pride and opt out for that reason instead. :)

I guess I'm also supposed to share the names of the sites I stole my projects from. I got most of my ideas from Dear Lizzy, the fabric heart refashion from Made by Lex, and I made my flower headbands using this tutorial. I'm hesitant to share those, cause we all know that the easiest way to quit is never to start in the first place, and I'd hate to be responsible for something like that. Just be careful, ladies.

Well, that about wraps it up for now. Peace in this nation, have a lovely week.

More Deep Thoughts

2010-07-26T18:17:00.008-09:00

-Anna Karenina is not happening. Everyone who admired me for taking it up can just stop now because the truth is that I actually find it very, very dull and have finished 2.3 other books since the last time I picked it up, just to procrastinate reading it again.

-That granola with the flax seed that Ma bought at Costco, the one I initially snubbed my nose at because it looked healthy and claimed to relieve depression through the all-natural power of flax? Yeah, I love it. Prozac is still my gospel, but Organic Pumpkin Flax-Plus Granola with Omega-3 sure is tasty.

-I can't get enough of No Doubt's cover of It's my Life. Why is that song so good? When I listen to it, which is very often, I feel like I could be Gwen Stefani and be ok with that. Disturbing, I know, but thankfully the duration of the song is just under four minutes so the madness is over quickly enough.

-I've been crafting up a storm lately. Pictures to come soon in the Renaissance Mish post I'm planning.

-K. and I have renewed our beloved summertime pastime of watching tragic foreign films in between mail routes. Today it was To Live in an empty JKB classroom. I love my job.

-Only two weeks left of classes, and then on to Portland! I wish I could express just how mind-numbingly excited I am to conclude my summer in Carol's bedroom, surrounded by empty Propel bottles and Gilmore Girls reruns. Also just to visit my old haunts again for the first time in what's been three years but feels like much longer. And, most especially, to darken the doorway of Chang's Mongolian Grill. Scratch that, I plan on doing much more than darkening its doorway. My spirit feels instantly invigorated everytime I think about it. I am so excited I could eat my hair.

-Yoga on Mondays and Wednesdays was a good idea. My spine is so stabilized you would not believe.

-Yesterday I came home and there was a beautiful cake with silky white frosting and patriotic sprinkles sitting on the counter, and it was so beautiful in all its vibrant ethereal confection that I wanted to grab a piece and inhale, grab a piece and inhale, so I grabbed a piece and inhaled. I still don't know whose it was but I sure do love store-bought frosting. Worth it. (Side note: Which of you guys used to put a little masking-tape skull and crossbones on the frosting container to deter me from eating it straight up, finger as a utensil? Come on, 'fess up. For the record, it didn't stop me, so ha ha on you.)

Cactus Chef playing We Didn't Start the Fire on the flute.

...all right, peace.

"What shall we do, that this cloud of darkness may be removed from overshadowing us?"

2010-07-18T15:18:00.012-09:00

The subject of healing in the scriptures has always sort of baffled me. We always hear about how Christ went around healing the sick, healing pretty much anyone who asked, just handing out healings like candy. I understand that the point of it was to reward the faith of these people, but I've still often wondered why He made it that easy. We talk so much of the benefit of trials, of their role in refining us and testing us, of building our faith and patience and all those good things that will mold us into the type of beings who will one day be exalted. Why, then, did Christ so easily remove these afflictions from people back in the day? Had they already proven themselves? Was this final act of faith - that is, asking to be healed - the last obstacle in the way of redemption? I can believe that for some, but for ALL those people? I just can't swallow that. It seems, at least, very different today.

These days it seems most people are allowed plenty of time for refinement and testing. And you know what, that's great. The present paradigm makes a lot more sense to me. Of course we should be allowed to muddle through our trials for a while, for months, even years, if that's what it takes for us to learn what we're supposed to be learning. And yet, we still read in the scriptures that if we simply cry unto the Lord and demonstrate faith, He will heal us. He will remove our afflictions. If it is indeed that simple, then I am sore confused. Does instant- gratification-healing seem counterproductive to anyone else? Why would the Lord, who loves us, cave in that easily and thus stymie our growth? Isn't that sort of akin to a parent who enforces some sort of punishment in order to teach a lesson, only to go soft at the first pleading and withdraw it? Isn't this how spoiled brats are developed? Maybe there are times when the test of faith is more important than the test of patience or long-suffering. If this is the case then it makes sense for a believing person to be healed. But what about when someone has the faith thing down and needs instead a lesson on enduring to the end? How is it that this person is given the same promise of healing?

Don't worry, I've taken the liberty of anticipating your counterarguments, so here are my concessions:

1. Timing - that is, healing might be promised, but maybe not right away

2. Will of the Lord - we know that this pretty much trumps everything. So, if a person is indeed healed as soon as he exercises faith and asks for it, we know that for whatever reason, the Lord saw fit to heal that person. Who knows, maybe that person had already proven himself in faith as well as in patience and long-suffering. Only the Lord knows his heart, after all. What looks like instant gratification to us may not actually be.

3. I thought I had anticipated more, but honestly this is all so confusing and mushy in my brain that it probably got lost somewhere by the wayside. Probably by my amygdala, everything gets caught there.

Refer back to my title quote. I find it interesting that people in the scriptures tend to ask questions like that - essentially, "Lord, what can I do to fix this?" They want a specific action that they can perform, an equation to run so that they might receive a desired outcome. And in our defense, the scriptures do seem to be rife with equations: seek-->find, ask-->receive, knock-->it shall be opened. But is it really that simple? When the Lamanites asked this question, they were told that if they repented, cried unto the Lord, and had faith, the cloud of darkness would be removed. And I can't help but wonder if maybe the point of that answer was not so much to show them how to remove the cloud, but rather, a way to get them to start doing those things for their own general benefit. Things they wouldn't have done if they hadn't thought there was a reward on the other side. It's really quite clever of the Lord, when you think about it.

Maybe the Lamanites were confronting a literal cloud of darkness, and maybe some of us have to confront a cloud of darkness not quite so literal. The procedure is the same. Maybe it'll be removed just as soon as we ask, or maybe it never will. Maybe it doesn't even matter what happens, so long as we're doing what we're supposed to be doing on our end.

But what do I know.

You said it, sister

2010-07-11T16:39:00.005-09:00

"What are men to rocks and mountains?"

--Mary Bennet, Pride and Prejudice

I need to go hike this soon.

More wise words from Andrew Solomon

2010-05-31T10:17:00.001-09:00

"People around depressives expect them to get themselves together: our society has little room in it for moping. Spouses, parents, children, and friends are all subject to being brought down themselves, and they do not want to be close to measureless pain. No one can do anything but beg for help (if he can do even that) at the lowest depths of a major depression, but once the help is provided, it must also be accepted. We would all like Prozac to do it for us, but in my experience, Prozac doesn't do it unless we help it along. Listen to the people who love you. Believe that they are worth living for even when you don't believe it. Seek out the memories depression takes away and project them into the future. Be brave; be strong; take your pills. Exercise because it's good for you even if every step weighs a thousand pounds. Eat when food itself disgusts you. Reason with yourself when you have lost your reason. These fortune-cookie admonitions sound pat, but the surest way out of depression is to dislike it and not to let yourself grow accustomed to it. Block out the terrible thoughts that invade your mind."

2010-05-30T18:55:00.003-09:00

"Patience is a willingness, in a sense, to watch the unfolding purposes of God with a sense of wonder and awe, rather than pacing up and down within the cell of our circumstance. Put another way, too much anxious opening of the oven door and the cake falls instead of rising. So it is with us. If we are always selfishly taking our temperature to see if we are happy, we will not be."

Love love love this talk!

Confusing Thing in My Life That I Need to Figure Out #154,789,287,764

2010-05-24T16:31:00.007-09:00

I came to an interesting realization a few weeks ago, and it was this: I like myself better when I'm single. I feel that I am stronger, wiser, more humble, more faithful, more patient, more exacting with my time, kinder to others and more fulfilled at the end of the day, when I am single, than I ever am when I'm not. And it's pretty easy to see why, but I'll list the reasons anyway:

1. When you are single, life kind of sucks. It's true. So, in an effort to make your life worth living, you (that is, I) tend to be better about doing those things that you know will really bring you happiness, even if only in the short term. Like selfless service, and hard work, and spending time with your family, and other things that you just don't make time for when you're dating.

2. Because you're so dang lonely and your moments are therefore harder to get through, you plan them more carefully. You live your life deliberately because you must, because it doesn't just float by on its own anymore. You can't take it for granted anymore that there is a boy waiting for you every evening after work; no, instead you have to actually stop and decide what productive/enriching thing you're going to do with your free time that evening. This usually means that your time is ultimately better spent than it would have been otherwise.

3. You learn what it means to be responsible for yourself again. Responsible for your happiness, responsible for your sadness, responsible for figuring out your own problems. The point is that you don't have the option anymore of handing your latest tragedy over to the nearest male figure, imploring him to dispose of it like you would the kitchen trash. Instead you sit with it, you experience it for yourself, and you come to remember who it is after all that you're supposed to be depending on. You resolve once again that you will never, as Elizabeth Gilbert puts it, "use another person's body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings."

4. Finally, you are compelled to be humble. You figure out pretty soon that happiness in the form of a significant other is not going to come to you of your own efforts - it is clearly in someone else's hands, and in His timing. You learn a lot about what it means to really, I mean really, exercise faith (at least, as much faith as you've ever had to exercise so far in your short, cushy life).

So, in short, you're a better person. (Switching back to first-person now) I hate being single, I really do. And yet, I'm never more at peace with myself than when I'm trucking along without a man. How does this bode for marriage? Must I choose one over the other? I have so much to learn.

In case you didn't hear, it snowed in Provo today.