Cleaning up my blog post queue, and maybe an actual post

Tonight I am going to write a full post. I am.

But first I'd thought I'd post some starters that I never finished. These clips are presented for your partial enjoyment, starting with the most recent.

Disclaimer: I have had a fair amount of gin.

1. Lately I've realized something that has me worried. I don't know exactly when it started, and I certainly don't know how to remedy the situation.

Men. Men are the situation. Gasp.

Okay, so somehow I've seperated men into two categories in my mind and I just don't think it's healthy. There should be like 10 categories...and I've just got the two.

The firsts category is the safe zone. Men in the safe zone include my brothers, my uncles, my grandpa- family. The safe zone also includes all of my lovely guy friends.

2. Previously I posted about men whistling and catcalling at me on the daily. I felt powerless and afraid and I wondered what I had done to bring the new and undesired attention to myself. Well I figured it out. Exposure. No, not like flashing people or wearing booby shirts, I just mean being out there.

In the past I was at home, and then I'd get in my car and drive to work, then I'd be at work- reverse and repeat. I wasn't out and about and so I wasn't getting icky attention. BUH-DOY?! How did I not get this before?!

3. My whole post puberty life I haven't had much luck in the love department. Buh-doy, welcome to every romcom, Jane Austen, Josie Geller story on the planet.

Thought it was my body, my personality, me.

I started dating to distract myself from a certain guy- fail.

I thought there were only a few possible outcomes, but I was wrong.

4. I realize there are a lot of mixed feelings for Angelina Jolie, but I love her. My love started with Mr. and Mrs. Smith and Girl Interrupted, and as I learned more about her I related to her and loved her more and more.

"I don't believe in guilt, I believe in living on impulse as long as you never intentionally hurt another person, and don't judge people in your life. I think you should live completely free." -Angelina Jolie

"Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there is no way of life." -Angelina Jolie

"If I make a fool of myself, who cares? I'm not frightened by anyone's perception of me." -Angelina Jolie

I'm odd looking. Sometimes I think I look like a funny muppet.
Angelina Jolie

4. Satan wants us to hate our bodies because he will never have one. Our bodies are one of our greatest gifts, and it seems that most people just spend their whole life hating them.

5. This video was all over facebook about a month ago, and guess what? I hate it.

INSERT SHITTY VIDEO SOME GUY MADE ABOUT IMMODESTY AND BIKINIS THAT PEOPLE PASSED AROUND FACEBOOK HERE

WARNING. This post will probably be illogical, unrefined, contradictive, and ill-formed.
I don't like this video for several reasons, but the main reason is that I think this sort of logic leads to blaming women for being raped by men.
So, I get that there's research saying men see women who are immodestly dressed as tools or things, but I think there's more to it. On the one hand I value modest dress very highly and I don't condone wearing immodest clothing (one time my friend said modesty was arbitrary. Initially I was annoyed, in time I came to agree.), but on the other hand I don't think we should start saying that science says the way you dress brings out the primal in men, so you have to alter your actions (how you dress) to

I support double standards all the time, I wont lie, but this one pisses me off. Guess what, buff guys with their shirts off can make women think of sex too. Does this give me an excuse to rape them? No.

Show me dozens of images of buff, shirtless men (or perhaps men in speedos) and I will no doubt objectify them too.

Thats all of them...all the drafts. Okay, I was going to write a real post, but I think I'll go to sleep instead. Goodnight, lovers.

Ch ch ch changes...

No doubt about it, this has been a crazy year for me. Recently I've thought about some of the changes I've been experiencing. There certainly are the more obvious changes and experiences, like my leaving the LDS church, and mourning the deaths of two very important people in my life. But there have also been some changes that are possibly less noticeable to others.

My social life has changed quite a lot. Many of the friends that I used to associate with are no longer in my life, and I think there are a lot of reasons for that. It could be easy for me to say that some people left because I left the LDS church, and I really do believe that that's part of it, but there are a lot of other reasons for my social skimming and changing. 

I find myself constantly battling and trying to figure out what I even want in a social life. In the past I've experienced a lot of variety with the kind of society I've kept, including the type and amount.

When I moved to Utah in middle school I had a really hard time making friends. I struggled until my senior year when I made a best friend. I spent a lot of time during my teenage years sitting alone in the computer room making Lord of the Rings slideshows set to Enya music. I know it really worried my mom, who I'm sure thought that I should be more social at that age. Truth be told, I wanted to be more social, but I had no idea how to do it. 

In college I was very social. I made fantastic friends who are still my friends today. We were always hanging out and having a good time. I still definitely liked to have alone time though. That is something that I have always possessed –a love of alone time. 

After college I moved to Ogden to pursue my masters degree. That first year was kind of miserable, but also pretty happy. I had a really hard time making friends, and I spent most of that year watching two movies a day, studying, going to class, and sometimes hanging out with my friend and cousin, Hillary. 

Sooner or later I made some friends in Ogden and became the social butterfly of my LDS Singles Ward. Whenever anyone wanted to know what was going on they called or texted me. If anyone wanted to send out an announcement, they had me text everyone because I had all the numbers. Every Sunday night, and usually at least one other night during the week, I had people over to play games, hang out, and party. I was always doing something social and I loved it. 

In time I stopped hanging out with a lot of my old friends and I moved across town. But as soon as I start attending my new Singles Ward, I jumped right in with the same enthusiasm as my previous Ward. It was a different crowd, but it was the same scene – if you know what I mean.  

Maybe it was working at that girls camp- always been surrounded by people and being responsible for dozens of girls constantly. Something changed in me. It was soon after that I stopped attending church, and I also got really involved in my work.

 I found myself working on average working 10 to 12 hours a day, five days a week. When I get home after work I would be so tired- I would just want to eat, watch TV, relax, and then go to bed. I felt that a lot of the people that I associated with started getting frustrated with me. They would want to hang out during the week or on the weekends, but I just wasn't available. Weeknights I was tired, and weekends I started going down to Salt Lake.

I found that I really liked that schedule for the most part. After being swarmed, touched, and harassed by children all day long you don't really want to hang out with a bunch of people. There were definitely the nights where I just wanted to hang out with someone- just one or two people not doing anything, not going out- just sitting around together.

I have some friends that I think perceive me as wanting different things than I actually want. I don't want to be the social butterfly who has everyone's numbers and has game nights every Sunday and Tuesday. But on the other hand it makes me sad sometimes when all I really want is to hang out with someone and there's no one around. I think the real problem is that I don't know what I want.

I definitely think that my age is a big factor. As I get older I care less about big groups and I want to just settle down with a very small and select group of people. I find myself being more picky, and that tends to make it harder to find friends. In the past I could hang out with just anyone and be okay with it, but I don't want to hang out with just anyone anymore.

 I want to hang out with people who I feel like understand me and support me. Sometimes I think I don't really care about making friends, like I hit the timer in my brain that says 'just find a husband and have a baby- that's your new social circle.' 

Pretty soon I'm going to move into a new place and live alone with two cats. Maybe I'm starting my new life as a cat lady, but I look forward to the solitude. But I worry that I'll become too independent and cut off from other people- like the character, Will, from About a Boy. 

I can't be an island, but I also don't want to be a nightclub. I want people around me, but not just any people. I guess it's all just part of growing up and this is probably super normal for a single person of 28. 

I don't know if that was any sort of conclusion, but I feel like stopping here. I feel like I can't write a conclusion, because I don't know the conclusion will be. I know I have a lot of fantastic things ahead of me, and I'm excited to see what my future will bring.

My Positive Experience Leaving the LDS Church

While going through my Facebook feed I was overwhelmed with posts and comments about Kate and John, two LDS members who face possible excommunication from the LDS church (Here's an article about it in the SL Tribune: Click this link, and one in the NY Times: Click this link). This post is a doozy, but I'll tell you what- I've made every attempt to remain positive and to be kind to both the LDS church and it's members, and to those who have dissented, and I think I've been successful! And I love the word and...andandand.

Well anyway, my FB surfing led to this article by a woman who used to be LDS, but was excommunicated. Now, I typically don't read a lot of articles or posts like that. I think that if you don't want the Church to be a part of your life, you should leave it be- that being said it's pretty hard to escape it. It's all around me and an important part of the lives of many who I love. Even if I have chosen to leave it behind, it will still continue to be a part of my life. But as I said, I generally don't seek out stories from disgruntled members and ex-members. I look for understanding and positive accounts if I look at all. I talk to friends and prefer first hand accounts. I want to hear different points of view, but I don't care to hear anyone tear other people or their beliefs down (that kind of thing happens on both sides).

I enjoyed these posts. Not because I think everyone or anyone needs to leave the church, but because it offered an interesting viewpoint and enlightening parallels for me. I don't necessarily recommend that everyone reads them. I definitely think they would be upsetting to many, and unfortunately her posts become increasingly bitter (understandably so) and weak because she begins to writhe and swat at one person (the evil bishop), rather than continue her story about leaving the church (here's her blog).

Reading her posts inspired me to write more about my experience- I'm told I have a rare and fortunate one. I have had what I consider loving and kind treatment from friends and family and a fantastic bishop who helped me figure out what I wanted and believed. I even went to my singles ward HE this Monday and the bishop made a joke about my leaving- it was friendly and hilarious. Like I said, I know that I apparently have a rare and blessed experience and an amazing bishop. I've heard a lot of stories (first and second hand) from people I love and trust that didn't have such fortunate experiences. 

When I was questioning things in the Church I pretty immediately went to my bishop. He is a kind, intelligent, and loving man. I've pretty much always had positive experiences with bishops, and consequently I've always had a pretty easy time trusting my bishops. I had also always had a clean slate- I never had to confess anything to my bishop, which I'm sure further protected me from any negative associations with my leadership. I hope that I've remembered our conversations correctly and haven't skewed anything he's said. I didn't take a tape recorder in, and I recognize that I could have heard what I wanted to hear- that being said, I'll continue.

My bishop is a lawyer and I think perhaps his mind works like mine. When I face a question I immediately begin to argue it from both sides of the fence in my mind. I remember in one of our meetings, there were only about four by the way, he said I'd make a good lawyer because I was able to refute pretty much any of the answers he gave me. I felt safe and I felt like he understood that I wasn't trying to be argumentative or Korihor things up- I was just trying to figure things out for myself. 

So, I asked to meet with my bishop and I shared my doubts, concerns and fears with him. He listened (really listened) and gave insights, answers, "arguments," and opinions as we went. I felt that he didn't brush me off as an apostate or as an idiot who was caught up with the wiles and tricks of the devil. I felt that he listened to what I had to say and gave my questions real thought and care. I felt that he respected me and loved me. Perhaps he thinks one day I'll "wise up" and return, or perhaps he does think me a fool- but I remain convinced his kindness is genuine. 

I met with him several times before finally telling him that I didn't intend on returning. First I asked to be released from my calling- I was a RS teacher and felt it unwise to continue because I might say things that weren't in-line with church teachings. In the course of our meetings I also returned my temple recommend and let my bishop know that I wasn't interested in attending church meetings. Near the end he said that I just needed to do what would make me happy. He said to worry about being happy and worry about the rest later.

A few weeks, or more (idk...lol..winky face...kittens), he texted me and asked to meet again. Because I felt safe and supported doing so, I returned for a visit. He just wanted to check in and see how I felt about things. I said I felt good about my choices and didn't want to return. I said I felt positive about my experience, but in the end I didn't believe in or wish to attend the church anymore. He was warm and kind, and reminded me that I was always welcome and would be missed. A few months later when my brother died I got a call from him- he was kind and I appreciated the call greatly.

In the months following I have attended Home Evening a few times, usually when I thought there would be volleyball or free food. I have enjoyed it sometimes and hated it others, but my ward members were always kind and welcoming. I'm still good friends with ward leaders and active members and I support their choice to attend church. I asked my RS Pres (she's also my friend- I hear there's a new RS presidency now) to not send me a visiting teacher, but the little sneaks assigned a friend of mine and I had a change of heart. My visiting teacher doesn't pray or leave a spiritual messages, and she is a good friend, so I'll let my conspiracy theory thoughts rest and enjoy the good times, haha. 

I suppose there are a lot of differences between me and the woman who wrote those posts about leaving the LDS church. I didn't feel anger and so I didn't want to leave in a negative way. I talked to my bishop and family and friends before I posted online. I can understand her anger, and I have to wonder if I would have behaved similarly if I had been in her situation. Leaving was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I didn't have kids or a husband to consider. I didn't really experience any offenses or hurtful things at church before I left. I didn't leave because I read something upsetting about Joseph Smith. I didn't leave because someone in my ward was mean to me or someone I cared about. Certainly I had concerns about the behavior or some members and their behavior towards others in the church generally, but I wouldn't say that was why I left the church. 

Okay. At this point I realize I'm sounding like a real dickweed. I'm not trying to belittle anyone or suggest that people shouldn't share their negative experiences or vent their frustrations. I just wanted to share my positive experience. It seems that the negative voices will always shout louder than the positive ones. Murders will always beat out cute raccoon and cats being friends on the news (seriously though, THIS SHOULD BE ON ALL THE TV STATIONS...It's an EFFING CUTENESS EPIDEMIC!!!). I guess this post is my religious raccoon kitten palooza. 

I know my disbelief has caused a lot of sadness to people I love, but they've treated me so well! There will always be those who respond to things in a less than "Christlike" way, but there will always be those who respond in a totally amazing way. We're all just trying to figure this life thing out. None of us are perfect and while we might prick and hurt each other, I'd like to assume that most of us just want to be good and share good. 

Oh yeah, in case you're wondering- I've not been faced with excommunication and for the time being feel no need or pressure to sever my official/on paper ties with the Mormon church.

Pt. 1: http://lauraconsistentlyinconsistent.blogspot.com/2013/09/lauras-process-of-becoming-pt-1-i-dont.html

Pt. 2: http://lauraconsistentlyinconsistent.blogspot.com/2013/12/lauras-process-of-becoming-pt-2.html

Pt. 3: http://lauraconsistentlyinconsistent.blogspot.com/2014/05/lauras-process-of-becoming-pt-3.html http://lauraconsistentlyinconsistent.blogspot.com/2013/12/lauras-process-of-becoming-pt-2.html

Laura's Process of Becoming Pt. 3

I know I’ve been promising to write this post for quite a while, but as with the other Process of Becoming Posts (Part 1, Part 2), I feel a lot of hesitancy about writing this. I don’t feel hesitant because I’m ashamed or because it’s a secret (yay redundancy!), but rather I don’t want to hurt anyone.

Last time I wrote about my spiritual journey I said I had left the church, I had no ill feeling towards the church and its members, and while I feel that’s the right path for me, I don’t necessarily think that means it is for everyone. Well things are pretty much the same.

Last time I talked about a fear of crashing and burning- it was kind of all an experiment for me. Well, I suppose it’s all (life) an experiment, but I feel like I've done some testing and found some positive results. As far as I can tell, I haven't crashed or burned. I feel no pressure to figure everything out right now, and that’s a beautiful kind of freedom. I don’t need to know where I came from or where I’m going today, or even tomorrow. I suppose someone could say that will all change when I have kids and they start asking questions, but I don’t have kids and if I did I would tell them just that. It’s okay to not know.

Before I had a lot of confusion and pain associated with my spiritual state, lately I feel a lot of that pressure has left. Oh goodness, I can’t help but hear the scriptural arguments against everything I say, haha. I guess Satan’s got me tricked, huh? He’s got me convinced that I have the time to let my salvation meander. Maybe some great and horrible power does have me tricked…but currently I don’t feel the need to murder anyone or try meth, so that’s something, right?

I work hard at a job I love and I help people everyday. I love to create art and make pre-teens laugh. I keep my room clean most of the time and I’m super upset about those girls in Nigeria who were kidnapped! I feel like I'm a pretty good person. 

As I've thought about writing this over the months I've realized more and more that I don't really owe a transcript of my beliefs to anyone. They're mine :) I'm totally happy to share what I believe and think if you ask me, but do I need to list what I do and do not believe in? Hellz no. 

I will say this, I've gone on a journey...well I'm still on it I suppose, and I feel great! I am happy with my choices and I am happy with where I am. I'm happy to be living this life and I know how sacred and miraculous it is!

I know who my true friends are. They can handle my existential crisis's, and they love me with the bonnet.

I guess this blog post might be a let down to those of you who wanted to read about my new heathen lifestyle, lo siento. Remember, it's your journey and it's your life. Do what makes you happy. 

But really, if you ask me, I'll tell you anything you want :)

I'm Sorry My Chest Isn't Smaller.

Lately I've been getting more attention from men- some good, some bad, and some horrible.

Last weekend I was telling a friend about it and I said something that really troubled me later when I thought about it. I said, "I don't know, I must be doing something to get all of this negative attention. Maybe it's the way I dress?"

Good job, way to smack yourself with a hefty dose of rape culture mentality. I am in charge of me and other people are in charge of themselves. I'm not responsible for the behavior of someone else or their thoughts. Unless I decide to participate in pornographic films or pictures, I don't create pornography in any one's mind.

Suggesting it's my fault for the negative attention I've received from men lately is a slippery slope. Next it's my fault because a man makes inappropriate gestures at me (that happened last weekend in Salt Lake when I was waiting for Trax). Then if a man attacks me or rapes me will that be my fault too. NOPE.

People have the freedom to choose as they will. That man who made offensive gestures at me could have just as easily left me alone, waved and smiled, paid me a nice compliment, or goodness- just whistled like all of the others. If someone rapes someone else or does something terrible, it's their choice and never the fault of the victim.

I don't care if some girl (or guy) wears nothing but panties and pasties and then wanders down a dark alley- if she's raped it's not because "she was asking for it," or any other horrible excuse people want to toss out to put the blame on the victim, it's simply and only the fault of the perpetrator. I don't care if she's drunk, high, naked, or "easy." Rape is the fault of the rapist alone. Blame society or the victim or whatever all you want, but in the end it's simply the fault of the rapist.

Now, there's a thin line between being smart and slut-shaming. Buh-doy, don't wear panties and pasties and wander down a dark alley! I wish we lived in a world where people wouldn't have to worry about being raped, but we don't and I think we should be smart and safe. It's hard to find that line though. Some things I wear offend some and seem mild to others. But a woman could wear a fluffy pillow pantsuit that makes her look like a blob and still be raped.

The other day I was reading a graphic novel, Ghost World (Daniel Clowes), and there was this one part that got me thinking about all of this (It does quite graphically discuss breasts, so you've been warned):

That little nugget reminded me of some show about Jessica Simpson, like the true Hollywood story or something, that I watched a long time ago. They said she started out in the Christian music market and that she wanted to do that because her dad was a pastor or something. Apparently the Christian music world said she was too sexy. She would wear turtlenecks and junk, but apparently her figure was just too sexual and so she moved on to the pop music world.

In time Jessica definitely put out more sexy music and videos, and wore more "sexual" clothing. I think it's probably easy to say Jessica is some sort of ho-bag, or some other sort of slut-shame moniker, but really I see it more like she was forced into it. I realize it was her choice (and maybe her parents) to enter the entertainment business, but let's not pick at the semantics- you get the idea, right?

It's like Scarlett Johansson (who stared in the movie version of Ghost World)- she's always cast as a super sexy character. Well buh-doy, she's super sexy! But what if Scarlett wants more? I used to hate her because in almost every role she was the other women, the temptress, etc. etc. It's gotta be a blessing and a curse. I mean, it's probably nice being called the sexiest woman alive a few years in a row, but what if Scarlett wants to play a character that isn't all about her sexy body?

When you look at this picture it seems so innocent and cute, right?

But if Scarlett wore it, it would be slutty? So really, it's not the outfit, it's the body? So if you have curves, you should be ashamed and cover up?

I don't know. I get how the world works and survival of the fittest, sex and all that, but it can be pretty confusing. On the one hand I just want to wear what I want, but some days I'm not sure it's worth the cat-calls and obscene gestures. I hate that I sometimes wish I was a flat chested and straight-hipped woman. I love my curves and I'm glad to have them, but sometimes I wish people were a little more...evolved.

Mental vomit about grieving

I don't think this post will shatter any worlds or break ground, but I'd like to write it for myself, to help with my own grieving.

Firstly, I think everyone grieves differently. I realize that there are stages of grieving and all of that jazz (See here), but oh how it irks me when people try to tell me when and how to experience grief.

Go to 2:40

 I used to be a "major weeper" (see video selection above), but then I got some sort of hormonal imbalance/robotitis or something and stopped crying. Anyway, I didn't cry for more than a moment when my grandmother (one of my favorite people who ever lived) died (her obit), though I did cry a few weeks later for about 5 minutes more. When my brother died (his obit) I didn't cry either. I felt sad, but mostly I felt very relieved for him and happy he was out of pain. I didn't cry at his funeral, though I teared up a few times (when this happened I took several deep breaths until the feeling passed). In contrast, 4 years ago I bawled like a baby at my father's funeral.

I knew I would cry for Jeremy, but I knew it would come when I allowed it to. I didn't want to cry at work. I didn't want to cry in front of a lot of people. I wanted to cry alone and in a place and with people I trusted in a certain way. When I felt I was in a safe enough situation I purposefully triggered my emotions in a successful (approximately 10 minutes) attempt to cry.

Some people would view me as unfeeling or unhealthy, covering up my true feelings or some junk like that. I just see myself as guarded and careful with my feelings. It should be no secret to anyone who has ever read my blog that I have trust issues. As I've gotten older I've become more open and free in so many ways, but in others I've built up walls too high for anyone to traverse.

This song may not seem like a grief song, but with the Smith kids, it is.

I've found that I can grieve best by trying to continue with my life. I don't want to have tears pried from me, and even if someone did pry them from me it would be tears of anger directed towards them. The correct feelings and thoughts will come in their own due time. I'm not a description in a psychology book, I'm Laura (yes I do realize how very high school punk rawk/teenage angst of me that sounds and I don't give a damn).

My grief comes out of me when I feel frustrated with my romantic situation, or lack thereof. My grief comes out when I need a ride somewhere and I'm too southern-overly concerned with imposing/acting like my Nana and dad to ask for help, and I'm frustrated. My grief will come out when I step on the scale. My grief will come out when the kindergartners wont listen. My grief will come out in it's own due time and way.

It will come out my muscles and in stomach aches. It will come out in music and movies. It will come out when I do the dishes and when I take a shower. It will come out in song and in dance, and sometimes even in tears (crap, I'm starting to sound like a Martina McBride song).

Seriously, Brain?

Soon after writing that last post I realized how wrong I was. Sometimes I let my mind convince itself that it's weaker than it is. Those similarities are just that similarities. I don't think they mean anything. I think a few of the guys I've been attracted to just happen to like alone time...which is a quality I'm attracted to. Go home 1 am blogging, you're drunk*.

*i wasn't drunk, it's a meme

Mind vomit.

Sigh. I think I've figured out something, in part, that is terribly depressing about my brain.

Recently, while talking to a friend I used to be romantically attracted to, I realized some commonalities that the men I tend to be attracted to have. This part didn't really bother me- it just kind of made me laugh. It was thinking out the reasons that I might be attracted to these qualities that worried me.

Brown hair, blue eyes, sure sure.

Similar music and movie tastes, sure sure- makes sense.

Social recluse. Okay, so I'm hesitant to write this, because it will make some things a little to obvious to past and present love interests. Love interests who have no love interest in me. Whatever, it's 1:02 am, here we go.

Social recluses. Men who are a little too comfortable being by themselves. Okay, I'm all for alone time and I want a man who is too. I've joked (but I'm actually pretty serious) about wanting a man who maybe works a lot or doesn't mind his share of alone time. I like alone time and I like my space. I don't think I could handle a man who always wanted to be together. I'd be like, "Hon, go out with yo' friends, ima do me."

But as I listened to my beautiful Adonis-like friend, who I now see I could never be with, I realized the men I've been interested in are a little more than your average kind of hermit. Not leave their bedroom for a week, sure sure. Not leave their bedroom for a month, sure sure. You get the point.

Now most people like a little alone time, but I'm talked serious isolation. And I thought that was odd, that I most of the men I've been really into since high school were like this. I don't know, I guess it makes sense. I had a hard time making friends in high school, and I spent many a night in the closet under the stairs (where our computer was) making Lord of the Rings/Enya slide shows and googling music stuff. Maybe I just want, on some level, a man that I feel I can relate to...even though post high school I became uber social at points.

But I started to wonder. Maybe I want them isolated because I'm afraid to share them. Other people present a danger. They can take my love interest away from me. What if he thinks they're cooler than me? What if he thinks they're prettier than me? What if he thinks they're funnier, wittier, better, smarter, better, chiller, better than me? Maybe it's the competition I'm afraid of. Maybe I'm afraid that basically everyone on the planet is a more desirable companion than me, and maybe I'm attracted to men who have terribly small social circles because then there's less competition.

I facebook stalk them, like everyone else on the planet, and I create competition in my head. That girl he's FB friends with (and met one time in a college class 5 years ago) becomes an ex-girlfriend whom he still has a burning attraction to. It's like old horror movies- your mind always creates a far more chilling story then any fancy visuals ever could.

Your mind knows all of the things you're afraid of, present or past, conscience or sub-conscience. My mind makes all of those girls into Goddess Heras, even if they are his obscure and creepy cousins (no one is a cousin, they're all single and ravenous, and a threat). My mind even makes all of those guy friends a threat- I'm sure he'd much rather hang out with Joe then pitiful me.

I'm so tired of being afraid and insecure. And then I get insecure about being insecure. Men don't like insecure girls. Forever alone...time to go to Betos.

Is unconfidence even a word? What the hell does diffidence mean?! Effing google images.

So what do I do? I don't know. Maybe it's time to work on my confidence or something...Or I could eat more nachos and get more plants. Plants will always love me.

Lessons from my Grandma Patsy

My Grandma Patricia, or "Patsy BAMF" as I like to call her (just now, I just started calling her that now), was a magic lady. Seriously, she was one of my favorite people on this planet. 

We were both Tiger Geminis, and she was a friend and an example to me.

She taught me to be a bad-A. One time at Girls Camp some priesthood leader killed a rattlesnake, so what does Grandma Patsy BAMF do? She cooks the dang snake and feeds it to the girls. Badoosh! Be a bad-A.

Sweatsuits Grandma painted for me and Hillary

She taught me to always create. My grandma was an artist for most of her life. She painted sweaters, canvases, and anything else you'd give her. She took art classes when she got older, and right up until she passed away she was painting. Her hands coiled up from arthritis, but that didn't stop her from creating. Even when we played cards she was scribbling in the margins. I can only hope to create as much as she did. She created a ginormous family, a wonderful legacy, and oodles of art.

She taught me to have fun. My grandma was such a joker. She was always kidding around, laughing and saying the funniest things. Whether she was dressing up, flashing us, or just playing cards- grandma knew how to have fun.

She taught me to love music. Grandma loved music and singing, and even when her pitch went, you could still hear her whistling a tune all the time. 

She taught me to love nature. My grandma loved the outdoors, whether it was on her parents old farm, at the beach, or with her cow, Bessie, grandma loved nature. She might have had some intense right wing beliefs, but that lady was a hippy if I ever knew one. One with nature, magnets, pumpkin seeds and curious natural remedies. She even let her juice sit out and ferment a bit, haha!

She taught me to be faithful. Now I know that they may confuse some of you, seeing as my beliefs have changed a bit this year, but faith isn't necessarily about what you believe- it's about passion and believing in something. She taught me to hear and see spirituality. She taught me to find happiness and believe in good things. She might have believed in different things then I do right now, but she taught me to live what I believe and be true to that. 

She taught me to be yourself and say 'forget the rest.' Everyone wont always like what you say and do in this life, but that's okay. You've got to be yourself and follow your heart. My grandma stood up for what she believed, even when no one around her supported or believed her. She did what she wanted and went out the way she wanted. She lived a full life and I'm sure wherever she is, she's kicking some major toosh.

I know I learned a lot of those things from my mother and father, and a lot of other amazing people in my life. I am a part of everyone I've ever met and everywhere I've ever gone, but dang it, Grandma Patsy BAMF was the seed and I'll miss her. 

Fun facts about Patricia:

- She had a blue ribbon cow as a teenager

-She birthed 10 children

-She eloped when she was 16 and stayed married to the same man until the day she died

-She served 3 LDS missions with her husband, Charles

-She was a kick-A square dancer

-She had indestructible fingernails

-She was born in a log cabin that her father built

-She, like my mother and me, was practically allergic to peppers. They make us super sick!

-She was a Tiger (Chinese Zodiac) Gemini, like me

Umm What Ya Say: Faith and Respect

Since my decision to stop attending the LDS church, several people have asked how I think my father or my pioneer ancestors would feel about my debaucherous new lifestyle. Well, here you go.

In general I can only hope, and assume, that they would still love me and respect me.

When my father decided to join the LDS church his parents were heartbroken. They gave him a small cardboard baby coffin, as if to say, you’re dead to us. They did not attend my parents wedding (they couldn’t), or my parents reception and other wedding festivities. Until my grandparents dying years, they fanned anti-church literature in my father’s face at every visit.

I’m pretty sure that my father just wanted was to live in a way that he thought was right. I think he just felt so strongly that the church was true and, while I’m sure a large part of him wanted his parents to join the church (first principles of the church), he probably just wanted them to love and support his decisions because he felt the church made him happy (and I would certainly say that the church and its accompanying life style did help my father to have a more fulfilling and happy life).

I would hope that in the same way that my father wanted to be loved unconditionally, supported in what he felt was right and in what he felt would make him happy and respected regardless of/for his beliefs, he would afford me just what he wanted so dearly from his loved ones.

I think of my wonderful Uncle Rick Smith- after he read my blog post about my father’s conversion to the LDS church he simply said that the choice my father made was the right choice for him. My uncle knew the church made my father happy, and even though my uncle doesn’t believe in the church, he supported him. I suppose that’s what I’m looking for.

I hold no bitterness towards the church or my loved ones who believe in it so fervently. I don’t seek to tear down the church, or dissuade members from believing. Honestly, I feel uncomfortable when people try to push the church on me (that twinkle in their eye when they think I’m finally returning to my senses), and I wouldn’t want to create that feeling in somebody else who is possibly questioning the church. I think people should pray with a “sincere heart” and all that jazz in regards to their moral code and beliefs, and then make their own choice- AND THEN I think people should love and respect their choice. It’s a personal choice, not up for vote or popular opinion- and so far as I know, even the LDS scriptures and leaders would agree with me here.

My pioneer ancestors crossed the plains in search of a place where they could live and believe as they pleased. The general populace thought they were a strange people and went to horrible lengths to make them renounce what they believed to be true. I can only hope that those pioneers, and most especially Joseph Smith, would respect someone who had different opinions on religion.

My great-great- great-great-great grandmother, Lucy Diantha Morley was fired from her job, pillaged, a driven from her home and comforts to the harsh land of Utah, where she built a BAD-A life believing as she wanted. HECK YES, I still love and respect her. Heck yes, I still feel connected to my faithful ancestors and relatives.  We’re all just trying to do what we feel is best, and live our lives in a way that correlates with our beliefs. Just like my father, I can only hope that Lucy D.M. would love a respect me, regardless of my attendance and belief in her church.

I know it’s hard. Things seem so black and white, and I suppose they are, but that doesn't mean we have to be at odds with one another. I think if we all just take a step back and look at the fundamentals, things could be pretty swell. You want freedom of religion, and so do I. You want to live and believe as you please, and so do I.

I know my father wasn't perfect, but I loved him and I can only assume he would still be proud of me. He would see that I haven’t made any of my decisions lightly. He would see how passionately I have sought answers, and he would love the person I am today. 

P.S. Did anyone catch my Imogen Heap reference?

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I couldn't articulate what I wanted to say, and so- Pinterest.