River of Thought: My Stream of Consciousness Friday

I am tired tonight. I should just go to bed. How many hours did I get last night? Not enough. But I feel like 9 o'clock bedtime on a Friday night reveals something about me that I don't want to admit. Kind of like that reception I went to tonight. Yeah, the one where the bride threw the bouquet and it landed ON my feet and I didn't pick it up because I thought that someone else would appreciate it more than I would--like one of the little flower girls. When I was a flower girl I always wanted to catch the bouquet. Now, I think it makes me look desperately pitiful. Yes, folks, 28. I'm 28 and still single. Deal with it. Or rather, I have to deal with it and the fact that Mormon men ("Mormen") do not date. Or ask girls out on dates. Or maybe they just don't ask ME out on dates. Even when I attempt flirting (badly). Even if he stares at me like he might be interested (maybe I had a booger dangling?). Apparently asking someone to eat dinner with you is the new version of "Popping the Big Question." It's just dinner.

Oooh, What Not to Wear is on! What is Stacey London wearing? Sometimes, though it is rare-ish, I think they need to change their clothing before giving fashion advice. Especially when Clinton looks like a 1950's golfer. I wish I could go online shopping right now, but I promised myself I'd pay off that credit card. Ugh, commercial break. Why are commercials always so LOUD? Like the Oxy Clean guy--good night man! Pull yourself together. Ooh, but I love this commercial:



Super delicious! THAT is funny. That little girl is adorable. Little girls in glasses are somehow heartwarming to me. Except me. When I was a little girl in glasses Mom put me (and herself) in identical Sally Jesse Raphael red glasses that were, oh, 12 TIMES TOO LARGE FOR MY FACE! Thanks, Mom. When is Mother's Day? Probably in May. Wonder what I should do for her? She'd probably be happy even if I gave her gift certificates to Sizzler or something--my precious mother! Freaking Sizzler! Or rather, the freaking patrons of Sizzler. Seriously, who steals an entire to-go box filled with fruit from a salad bar? There is a produce section at the grocery store for a reason. You can buy avocados on your own.
You don't have to STEAL your 5-a-day from Sizzler! Those are the same people who think a $2 tip is all you have to leave no matter what the bill is. 20% people. Double tithing. 20%. If you're going out to eat out plan on paying the tip! And don't get me started on those people who rip off the cash left on tables. Come on, folks. You're not stickin' it to the man, here! These are hardworking waiters and waitresses just trying to earn some cash money for survival just like the rest of us. Special place in hell. That is all I'm going to say. Special place. Oh, I really need to grade those place assignment essays. I'm so over grading. Too bad I signed up for a life of it.

You get the point. I'm going to bed. Once What Not to Wear is over, of course.

The Weird Stuff I Think About

I’ve never been that great at saying “sorry.” I don’t mean the sarcastic “sorry!” I don’t mean the offhand “sorry” because you bumped into someone. Those small, accidental blips make for easy apologies. It is the big one’s I struggle with. The fighting sorrys. The offensive sorrys. The sorrys that feel unfair and filled with injustice. While I may feel horrible, every emotional nuance of that word raging through me, self-loathing sinking in, I sometimes can’t get that one out of my mouth. It is a strange paradox: I believe in the power of the word. I believe in meaning it when you say it. I believe it is one of the most important words we frail and faulted human beings utter. But I’m not always the best at saying it when I’ve really, truly messed up. In spite of what I know, swallowing my pride, my hurt, my offense can be very, very difficult. And I hate that fact about myself.

Last weekend I taught the lesson in Sunday school. It was about a lot of things, but what stood out to me were the sections about meekness. I’ve thought a lot about meekness lately. As a culture, I think most believe meekness is not an attribute to be valued. In fact, meekness spends much of its time mistaken for passivity. But I think that meekness is much different than being the doormat. For one thing, the response of meekness is consciously decided upon, it is an active state of being. Passivity requires nothing beyond sitting back and feeling victimized as life happens TO you. Meekness requires turning the other cheek. It requires forgiving, apologizing, letting go of one’s hurts, one’s pride, one’s own ego. It requires apologizing even when it doesn’t feel fair or just or easy. It requires actively putting the needs and emotions of another before your own. And, oh, how painfully impossible that can be!

I mean this jabber more as discussion-starter than as a complete and absolute thought I have. This is all more of rumination and meditation going on in my little head. These days it seems as though my life runs in winding circles of unanswered, incomplete and unsettled. This post is more about the things I want to improve upon. So what do you think about all of this? Are you meek? Do you swallow your pride? How does one say sorry for those big goof ups? Even harder still, how does one say “I forgive you” and mean it completely? And does anyone feel like they’re improving at any of this stuff? Because lately I feel like some of my weaknesses will never go away

In Which I Reveal My Inner 14-Year-Old

Dear Stare-Hard,

I've noticed recently that you enjoy looking (read: oogling) at me. I've caught you, you blush and avert your eyes. I've said hi, you don't have very much to say back. But you see, dear boy, I've done my part. I'm a bit on the shy side too. But I've taken my risks. I've left my comfort zone, dropped little hints, put myself "out there." I've spent more time on facebook than I'd prefer just hoping you might stop in. I've smiled. I've sat by you with my guts flipping and my body temperature rising. And all that I get? The stare.

So here's my proposition (were you--horror of horrors, embarrassment of embarrassments--actually reading this): ask. Just ask. Ask me out. I have good hygiene. Once the awkward school-girlish nerves subside I make good dinner conversation. Just ask.

Signed,
The Rookie

P.S. If you are, in fact, reading this, revealing that tidbit WON'T win you any bonus points. Asking like it was all your idea, however, will.

I'm Staying Up

Past my bedtime. Giggling. Because of this post by a long lost friend in Alaska. Seriously, what a cool mom is she!?

And because I just watched the latest installment of this.



And because I haven't stayed up way past my bedtime giggling in a while.

What is Sacred?

There's been a great deal of hoopla in my home state (and beyond) about last night's episode of the HBO series Big Love. Apparently, though I do not watch Big Love, there was a depiction of an ordinance performed in the temples of my personal religion of choice, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Alice, my bestie and brilliant roommate, wrote this post about her opinions on this controversy last week. My church officially made this statement and recently posted this video on you tube:



Then, today, I listened to a local radio program conversation (Radio West) and frankly, I wasn't too impressed by the discussion that took place.

So, now that I have links galore to the official and unofficial thoughts on the matter, I couldn't help but state my own:

I suppose there was a piece of disappointment when I learned HBO would be airing such things. Not angry-disappointment--I feel there really is little reason for outrage to enter the equation (after all, what purpose would that serve me?). Not surprised-disappointment--this isn't the first time, nor will it be the last, I'm sure, that this kind of misrepresentation has occurred in the media or by other means. But a sense of saddened disappointment. Saddened because the ceremonies performed in these temples are sacred to me. So sacred, in fact, that I do not speak of them outside the walls of the temple. And while what happens here may be cause for curiosity and perhaps even confusion in others, for me it is a deeply spiritual experience separate from the other ordinary, day-to-day parts of my life. And having something so special to me used for purposes other than what they were intended is hurtful.

I'm not calling for a boycott of HBO. I'm not out to get the executive producers, the writers, or the actors in the show. That all seems really fruitless for a no-name English teacher to take on. Instead, what this whole conversation has gotten me thinking about is humanity and the sacred. It has me thinking about how we all have different definitions of what is and what is not sacred, and that is okay. It has me thinking that I could always stand to improve in this department. That, though I view myself as a respecter of all beliefs--I find religion in all its forms beautiful and filled with many truths--I could still do better. We all could.

What this experience has reminded me of is that it hurts when someone doesn't recognize how important something is to you and treats it trivially. It doesn't feel okay when, because of their own ignorance or lack of understanding, they take something of a serious nature (to you) lightly or they take it out of context or they simply misuse or misrepresent it because they don't understand.

So, rather than let my feelings of hurt transform into feelings of anger, I think I want to let my hurt transform me. Every faith has beauty in its rituals and beliefs. Every faith is sacred. Every faith deserves to be treated as such--if for no other reason than that the individuals who follow and believe in its doctrines and philosophies are beautiful and deserving of all the respect and understanding I have to give.

Lazy/Picture Extravaganza

Essentially I've been avoiding blogging altogether because I've been too lazy to hook my camera up to the computer to post pictures of things I feel guilty if I don't post about. But all that has changed. The camera has been linked, let the blogging begin.

First on the agenda: Vegas. We had fun, didn't take nearly enough pictures (though there were three cameras there?). This is a random collage of our first night on the town (aka, dinner and then wandering around until our feet hurt and we were "over it."



While out on the town we enjoyed snapping a few anonymous shots of the scantily underclad for our own (free) entertainment:


The "partay" (Alice's mom's best friend's 60th birthday bash--did you follow that?--our whole reason for going to Vegas) was a great time. We gussied up. We dropped it like it's hot. We boogied. We snacked. We laughed. We snapped pictures. Here are a few highlights:


Next on the agenda: the arcade with Shelby & Sonia. Shelby and Sonia happen to be two of my favorite married people. Alice and I enjoy laughing until the wee small hours with them both. We knew them both long before they shared a last name, and I have to say I've never met two people more perfect for one another than these two. A couple of months ago (like I said--lazy), we went to dinner and to the arcade near their house. Dance Dance Revolution, Ski Ball, and random penny prizes with our ticket winnings were all part of the adventure. Enjoy:



So, my lazy stint is over. The guilt can stop haunting me. Maybe later this week I'll get around to filing my taxes.

Naaaah.

Long Overdue Thank You's

Libby over at The Crush, The Glitter, The Gladness had a blog giveaway AGES ago. I won (and I never win a thing). But, like a jerk, I've been too lazy to upload the pictures of my cute niece in the adorable hat and mittens she made. Sorry, Libs! I'm behind the times. Thank you, thank you! She loved them and uses them frequently.



And I've been meaning to post Charlotte sent this decorative ladder to me as my prize for the Feeling Lucky? homemade gift exchange.



Thanks, Char! It is totally fun! I needed a little sumpin'-sumpin' for that spot in my living room--this fits perfectly!

And, to those of you who are expecting a homemade prize from me: I have the idea, the supplies, and the tools. It is merely a matter of me finding time to get them all done. But I'm excited to see your reactions.