Woah, sorry. I just fainted. Anyway, here's the music:
Yeah Yeah. Killer video.
I Wanna Be Your Man. More like I want you to be my man.
Railroad Track. Simplicity done correctly.
Shakin'. Thanks for getting my heart pregnant.
She Loves Me. Yes, yes I do.
I can't wait for him to put out more music. SOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD. Really it's all about the music, but it doesn't hurt when the music maker is swoon worthy.
I'm pretty sure I've posted about my fears before, but considering my reaction to some of my fears yesterday I thought I'd give it another go.
There are a lot of things that scare me, I'm human, but most of them are pretty easy to overcome (i.e. heights, deep water, etc.). There are however, a few things that horrify me, and that I feel are not so easily vanquished. I call them the 3 M's.
MEN.
MONEY.
MARRIAGE.
Fear, like 3M tape, holding me down.
These things scare me so much. Like, horrify me. I came home from work yesterday and I was so overwhelmed by these things that I put on my Mogwai mix, zipped myself up in my mummy bag, and Pinterested pictures of attractive men with cats to escape. I never wanted to leave that warm cocoon, and only left it when nature called (more like screamed), and then finally when Jernae came home.
Bob Dylan, with a cat, sigh.
MEN. Shudder. Seriously. I love men and I love spending time with them. A lot of the people I hang out with these days are men. I love the company of men. I love talking to men. I like looking at men and laughing with men and, well I love men...but the vulnerability that they can make me feel? Bleh. Death. I've realized at on the this point in my life that I have a lot of defense mechanisms and walls around me in regards to men (probably the same stuff all the other people on this planet are dealing with- abanodnment, rejection, etc.). Well okay, if they are just friends I can be myself 100%, but introduce the romantic factor- make me vulnerable to hurt, and up go the towers and dug get the moats.
Defense mechanisms. Poot. I am sure that there are more reasons than I currently realize for my defenses, but currently I am dealing with a few that tend to cement me in the eternal friendzone.
1. When flirting with a man I am romantically intersted in I will suddenly feel vulnerable and turn the flirtations into a joke, typically by taking things over the top. I.e. proposing marriage, making a creepy face, like this, talking about my affection for all men, pointing out my cougar tendencies, etc.
2. I go out of my way to make him feel safe. I.e. talk about other men in a romatic* way- so as to let them know I'm not thinking about them in a romantic way, or even if I am, make them feel that they're nothing special
3. Talk about women I think are attractive. Angelina, Jernae, Audrey, etc.
4. Talk about dude stuff. I.e. poop, farts, outdoorsy things, sex, nerd stuff
5. Make jokes. Turn the situation from a potential romantic something, into a funny story that leads to nowhere and distracts men from my swoon.
*When I say romantic, I don't mean red roses or any of that crap, I mean attraction, more than friends, may lead to hand holding, cuddling, kissing, etc.
All of this is about fear. I'm afraid that if I let a guy know how I really feel, I will be hurt, because the few times in my life I have let men know how I really feel...let's just say, it didn't end with smooching.
MONEY. The bane of my exsistence. Okay, well it's not that I don't like having money, that's not the problem. The problem is managing money. I just get so frustrated. I am the worst at following a budget and keeping track of money, and then because I'm not keeping track of my money I get stuck in very uncomfortable financial situations. Honestly right now I make enough money to be sitting pretty- even with my horror of horrors student loans. If only I could learn to manage my money and then actually follow through. I will be doing pretty good with my money, even saving some of it, and then bam! I make a few stupid descions and I'm sunk.
Seriously, nothing in life seems to stress me out more. I mean, the other big M's cause me a constant onslaught of fear and stress, but money troubles bring me to tears with ease. I am horrified about my future because I feel so trapped with my little debts, and my big student loan debt. I think, what man would want me and my bajillion dollars in student loans? I worry that my lack of money savvy will hurt my marriage one day. I think, you're supposed to be who you want to marry, which means I'm going to marry someone who is just as bad with money as I am! Ahhhhh! See I'm already stressing out just thinking about it!
The worst is when I inconvenience someone else with my money problems- that's the killer. It hurts my pride, and it hurts my brain, and I'm sure it hurts my relationships. Having to ask other people to help me out of a situation I undoubtedly caused, aggggggh. Possibly hurting someone else's financial plan with my own money incompetence, arrrrrgggggggggghhhhhh. Uh, you get the point. I need to move on because I'm freaking out.
MARRIAGE. I know I've posted about this enough to last a lifetime, but goodness how it plagues me. It's just kind of ridiculous how on the one hand I can be a baby hungry, crazy wedding idea Pinteresting woman, while on the other I'm COMPLETELY HORRIFIED of marriage. Shudder. Shatner. Shudder. Meeeehhh. I was telling a friend about this and I said that I guess when you find someone who makes you forget how afraid you are, and they feel the same then that's love...or something.
I'm afraid that a year into marriage I will find out my spouse is a stranger. I'm afraid that he'll secretly be a pedophile, sex-addict, abuser, hoity-toity, pussy, gay (not that I'm saying being gay is comprable to pedophilia, but it would suck if you're straight spouse came out post wedding), gambler, etc, etc. I'm afraid that my spouse will decide I'm not who he wanted. I'm afraid of dealing with money and family and then...children! What if I screw them up?! What they get killed or kidnapped or worse?! Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!
Blessed be, I wasn't ever abused, but I still have at least the average amount of baggage that makes people afraid of marriage.
Fear sucks. I want this to be said of me:
I want to overcome the 3M's like a baller. I want to jump off the cliff of M fear into the lake of wedded, man loving, money balanced bliss! I suppose like any fear, I need to make a plan of action. Here goes:
Work on the MONAAAY!
a. Pay tithing
b. Create a budget
c. Follow the budget
d. Pay off immediate debts
e. Save money
Let down my defenses with men
a. Flirt and then don't turn it into a joke
b. Work on believeing that a man could find me romantically interesting
c. Work on getting a hotter bod so men climb my towers* and I don't have to worry about taking the defenses down
*insert Beavis and Butthead style laugh here
Become my best me, but learn to love the me I already am more
a. Continue Gospel studies
b. Read books about empowered people, especially women
c. Facebook less
d. Finish the unfinished things I know I can finish
It's been an interesting year indeed. As Kelsie put it, "The week between Christmas and New Years is like the hangover of the year." In addition to the weight of an endless supply of mucus and sickness holding my body fast to my couch, thoughts of the craziness that was 2012 have been weighing my mind down. Not in a sad way, but in a, "Holy cow, what a journey," way. So here's a post to highlight some of the ups and downs of the year, including some tasty nougats from my journal (I can write all the run-ons, etc. I want, it's my journal and I do what I want!). All quotes are from my journal, unless otherwise cited.
"Well, this year is almost over and I'm glad of it. I'm not trying to sound negative or complain, but it was a tough year and though I'm very grateful for what I have learned and how I've grown, I'm ready for a new year with new adventures and fresh starts." Chapter 1: Friends
Something that stands out in my mind are the friends I've made and lost. I've made some really amazing new friends this year! Friends that I hope to keep for years to come.
LOVE these girls.
Obviously my lady lover Hillary isn't new to the picture, but her man lover husband is, and I love him too!
Connor, and our shared hatred of dogs- that's friendship.
I've also lost some friends, some who came and went, and some who really caught me by surprise when they left me. I was looking through my journal and I saw an entry dated June 10, 2012 that said a lot of my close friends were dating, seeing someone, married, or just gone, and that I felt stranded. I think that maybe it was around that time that I felt I had out to reach out to new people and look for new experiences. Though some of those friends broke off their relationships with the others and wanted to come back to me, I think I never recovered. For so many reasons we fell apart and it's hard to blame anyone. I can't be too angry because I see the situation from many sides and though it sucks, and though I complain and it makes me sad- I get it. I'm just so grateful that God prepared a lot of emotional life cushioning for me. Video justification: I fought the emotional life piranhas and I'm pale and bad-a like Jack White. Well, bad-a in other, music talent lacking ways...
Obviously I don't think it wise to post pictures of those who left...awkward ovaries. It's interesting to me that some of the very things that have filled my mind the most this year were some of the reasons some of my friends left me- questions about the Gospel and what The Savior would have me do, and how He would have me behave.
In losing some of my friends this year, I've realized how important some of my other friendships are to me.
LOVE this whole family, and especially my pre-mortal bunk mate, Kelsipher.
This year my sister and I have become besties!
I miss these ladies! So excited for our 5-year reunion!
Chapter 2: Gospel/Life Studies
I wish I was a good enough writer to even begin to describe some of the thought journeys I've gone on this year. I've thought about that what kind of life God wants me to live. I've thought about how I should spend my time, and how that does and does not define my self worth. I've thought about my role as a woman in the church and in the world. I've thought about what love means, is, and how it happens. Ch.2, a
I've thoroughly enjoyed continuing my studies of the Old Testament, and it has spurred a lot of my thoughts about faith, righteousness, self-righteousness, unrighteous judgment, and more. In addition to my personal study of the Gospel I took an amazing institute class and went to the temple a lot.
My grandmother and I at the St. George temple just after a session
I thought about the point of the Gospel a lot. A LOT A LOT. I just feel like a lot of people miss the point of the Gospel, and I want to make sure I don't miss it in the long run.
What's the point? It's love. I know that sounds cliche and over simplified, but it's the truth. Love shows us that God gives us commandments to help us, because He loves us. Any perceived inequality in the church is, in my opinion, not from God, but rather from us humans. God doesn't love any of His children more or less based on their appearance, ethnicity, gender, etc. This Gospel is best experienced when we focus on the positive and assume the best in others. To further moosh these thoughts in your brains, here's a clip from my journal. Ch.2, b
"One thing I feel like I've begun (just begun) to learn about , is finding balance in the Gospel. On the one hand I want to be obedient to the Lord's specific commands, and on the other, I want to grasp the most important parts of the Gospel. I don't want to be like the Jews of old, obsessing over rules and missing the mark. I want to always be worthy to have the spirit, but I don't want to judge others or myself too harshly."
"I believe the path taken to the Celestial Kingdom will be different for all of us. The Iron Rod isn't one straight and hard pole leading to the Tree of Life- it's an intertwining rope made of endless numbers of vines."
"...don't beat yourself up because it's a different path than you imagined or because it's a different path than someone else."
"Some things are black and white- right and wrong, but most things aren't that clear cut. Only by the spirit can we be led individually, and as families, back to the cleansing blood of the atonement and the unimpeded love and access to the one true and eternal God."
Just one of many miracles this year, when my long lost and beloved scriptures were found!
Ch.2, c
The cherry on top that led to this journal clip was the whole pants to church thing. I do think we should wear our best to church. I do think we have eternal roles based on gender. I do think it's disrespectful to take the focus off of God and try to put it on our own agendas. I do think it's wrong to judge others based on their appearance, but I don't think the way to change hearts is by wearing pants to church.
"Another thing I've begun to learn is that the Gospel is best shared individually and by the spirit. Hearts are not changed with organized protests and open hostility (The man by the SLC Temple shouting, "Jesus wants us to burn this building down!" will never convince me that the Gospel isn't true). More and more people, in and out of the church, will try to change the church and people's hearts, with loud shows and protests. But they will not change hearts, they will only divide people. The path to change is individual testimony. If people want to change hearts they should increase the spirit in their own lives and pray for opportunities to share."
I just wish more people could understand the beautiful nature of the Gospel in regards to gender and roles. I wish people could separate the culture some people in the church have, and the actual Gospel.
I love this quote from Spencer W. Kimball, “And I, God said unto mine Only Begotten, which was with me from the beginning: Let us make man [not a separate man, but a complete man, which is husband and wife] in our image, after our likeness; and it was so.” (Moses 2:26.) What a beautiful partnership! Adam and Eve were married for eternity by the Lord. Such a marriage extends beyond the grave. All peoples should call for this kind of marriage. “And Adam knew Eve his wife; and she conceived, and bare Cain, and said, I have gotten a man from the Lord.” (Gen. 4:1.) “This is the book of the generations of Adam. In the day that God created man, in the likeness of God made he him; “Male and female created he them; and blessed them, and called their name Adam [Mr. and Mrs. Adam, I suppose, or Brother and Sister Adam], in the day when they were created.” (Gen. 5:1–2.) This is a partnership. Then when they had created them in the image of God, to them was given the eternal command, “Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it” (Gen. 1:28), and as they completed this magnificent creation, they looked it over and pronounced it “good, very good” something that isn’t to be improved upon by our modern intellectuals; the male to till the ground, support the family, to give proper leadership; the woman to cooperate, to bear the children, and to rear and teach them. It was “good, very good.”
I love this quote for many reasons, but the number one reason is that is points out something important that a lot of people miss in the scriptures. Man, a complete one, means a male and female bonded in an eternal companionship. All throughout the scriptures when they say that some man or prophet goes off and does things for God, we can assume that his wife was with him. In the early history of the church the men didn't receive revelation and see visions in secret men-meetings! Their wives were with them! Okay, I'm going off on a tangent here and I'm sorry for it, but I just think the union of two people creating one amazing thing, a man, is the most beautiful thing ever. Neither is the man complete without the woman, or woman without the man! It's not about specific roles- woman, you cook and pop out the babies!- it's about working together, in whatever way is best for you as a couple, and creating a perfect union with God! Okay, I'm done. That's just the tip of the iceberg but I need to move on. Whew, next.
Ch.3: Odds and Ends "Another thing I've learned is to always be myself. With men, with friends, with everyone. I think we should strive to be the best we can be at all times, but we should be who we are. After a while facades will fade and our masks have to come off. I need to be who I am and surround myself with people who like me for me and who support me and don't try to change me."
BEE yourself.
"Stop saying, 'When the trials end...' Don't hold onto the promised land in the future. Make the desert a promised land. If you hold onto tomorrow, you'll die of a broken heart today."
A few lyrics from My Star Wars Musical (okay, I've only written the one song...well most of one song):
"Luke, I am your father,
Luke, you are my son.
Leia is your sister,
Good thing you didn't get some."
~
"Jedi's, Jedi's, I'm gonna cut them down.
Jedi's, Jedi's, I hope that they all drown."
~
"Luke, come join the dark side,
it is much more fun.
Luke, come join the dark side,
I secretly love you, son."
There's more, but I don't want these internet fools stealing my rhymes!
"Be where God wants you to be."
"Today the second counselor's wife (who is glorious), Sister Lithgow, was talking about the pioneers. She was saying that she felt that the pioneers did not want us to be sad because of their suffering. She said that she felt that they want us to feel "the joy of when they were released" from their pain. I think it's the same with Dad. He wants me to be happy, and he wants me to know that he experiences the joy of release."
One of the funniest pictures of my Dad.
Chapter 4: Wrap-up
I could keep adding things from my journal, but before I know it I will have put my whole journal in this post and it's already way too long. I think I've said what I wanted to. It's been one hell of a year. I wanted to leave you with Shatner "singing" Rocket Man because I feel like I'm a Rocket Woman. I'm leaving the past behind and it's already looking less like where I am and more like a speck on the other side of my space ship window. Zero hour is here and I'm ready to take off. Stupid "Embedding disabled by request." Here's the LINK. Peace.
This is a blog post I have been meaning to write for some time. It's dear to my heart and influences my life on a daily basis. I will try to express some of the thoughts or feelings my father had in this regard, including some quotes from his personal history, but I know I will fall short. I do hope that this post will in the very least give you a taste of my father's dedication to The Gospel of Jesus Christ.
My father was raised in a devote Southern Baptist home. His mother and father were committed members of their congregation in Georgia and Florida, where my father was born and raised. My father was studying to be a preacher in their church, a vocation that was chosen I wonder, in part because of his physical disabilities.
My father said of his early life, "My mother and father loved us dearly. At one time I would not have said this, but as I have gotten older, I've learned to eat a lot of crow."
My father continued in his personal history, "I believe a story written by an individual about themselves, is generally a little tainted. I will do my best I can to stay within the facts as I know them ..."
When my father was was in the womb his mother contracted Rubella. He said of this, "I was very lucky! In the first two trimesters the fetus can have many different birth anomalies-- such as Spina Bifida, blindness, deafness, total retardation, etc. I do not like the term, "defectives." We are not defective-- we are different. My differences are obvious and not so obvious. I have a congenital Amputation of the right hand, a twisting scoliosis of the lumbar spine, and both right and left feet were affected."
Despite my father's physical limitations he had an abnormally high IQ and always had his nose in a book. The thing that I miss the most about my father was being able to ask him anything about the Gospel and the scriptures. When I started studying the Old Testament I would go back to my dad's man cave or call him and ask him what different things meant in my studies. He always had an answer that would enlighten, calm, and educate me.
My father continued, "My parents were as good as they could be to me and my brothers with the limited knowledge they had back in 1951 about birth-defects in children such as I had...My dear mother. She taught me from day one that I was different, but I was as good as anyone without handicaps of any manner."
"I had a father who taught me to be a man, and that as a man you can do or overcome any obstacle or challenge placed before you. My mother helped soften this fatherly attitude."
My father went on to say that his grandfather, Elisha Morgan Smith, was a Morgan Horse breeder and circuit rider. Elisha also bought and sold tobacco for R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. out of Alabama.
My father said, "Generally it was a fresh cut green-leaf that the company could cure or whatever they did with the silly stuff. He was also a circuit preacher...I found out recently that Grandpa Burson was a circuit preacher. He had several small congregations throughout South Georgia and Northern Florida. His style of preaching, I'm sure, would be somewhat "Hellfire and Brimstone."
My father said that his conversion story was a simple one. It all started when he met a girl, Mary. He knew her in high school as a "goody-two-shoes Catholic," but he respected her for her beliefs. He lost track of her after high school and didn't see her again until her was at university studying x-ray technology.
He said, "When I saw her again, the strangest feeling came over me that I had to see her. I met her again and after a few moments, I asked her out. She hesitated. I had a pretty wild past, and she remembered it. She agreed to go out with me with some stipulations. One, I would not smoke my pipe or cigars. I would not curse- and if I did, I was to take her home immediately. AND, absolutely no "getting out of hand."
Well I guess the date wasn't too bad, because Mary invited him to a party...on a Monday night (Mormons know how sneaky Mary was being...bwahaha). At the party my father was introduced to several of Mary's family members and friends. He was also introduced to two young men dressed in the same clothes- white shirts, dark ties, and slacks.
He said, "They had name tags with Elder as the first name- Elder Slausen and Elder Carpenter. They found that I was looking for a church and having a bad experience."
The missionaries told my dad about modern day prophets, seers, and revelators, and about Joseph Smith. My father said, "It made sense to me. They gave me a Book of Mormon and had marked a few scriptures for me to study. After reading them, I was hooked and I knew I was on the right road to the Lord. From that point on, I was given the lessons and was ready for baptism."
"On July 22, 1971 the ordinances were completed; this happens to be my parents' anniversary. The elders and I were invited to the meal and party. You never turn down food in the Deep South. As we were sitting and pigging out, my little brother, Rick, was cracking up. I was resting my feet on a box in the middle of the table. I read the inscription on the box, "In loving memory of our son, Lew." All this just because I had become a Latter Day Saint."
After my father's passing I asked my mother if he ever slipped up. I asked if he ever relapsed and drank alcohol or smoked, etc., after joining the church. She said that as far as she could recollect, he never had. One time shortly after he joined he took a drink of alcohol without thinking, but other than that he never slipped up.
My Nana and Papa did not support my father's decision to become a Mormon. They did not attend my parents wedding reception (my parents were married in the Oakland Temple in Oakland, California, and they met at BYU, but that's another story for another time). They were not happy about my father being damned, moving to Utah, then marrying a Mormon and moving to California- how surprising.
When my oldest brother, Josh, was born my father said, "All was forgiven! My mom still made comments...(and) dad was still touchy."
"When I had vacation time, we went to Florida to visit my parents. When we got there, the first thing we noticed were several anti-Mormon pamphlets spread about. The biggest one was "Shadow or Fiction." This is the one where the complete temple ceremony and clothing are revealed. The also had the "God Makers." My mother took my wife off to the store and my dad and I sat in the living room talking. It was here that I let it slip that I had a cousin who was a member of the church. Joan and Durwood Foxworthy. I love them dearly."
"When we were in Florida for my mother's funeral, they let it slip that my uncle Jessie has a daughter who is also a member of the Church...It is a small world even if Satan tries to stop you. Joan and Durwood had informed me that her parents and mine spent $365.00 every three months on anti-church classes. The last thing I remember my Dad saying to me was, with his finger in my face, he could never join a church that considered Jesus Christ as their literal brother. In a way he might be right, but not in the way he meant it. We are all sons and daughters of Elohim, and His First-Born Son, Jehovah, is the God of this Earth."
My father concluded his brief life history with his testimony, "I know-- there is no doubt that Joseph Smith was and is a Prophet, as I know that Gordon B. Hinckley is today (he wrote this history while President Hinckley was still the prophet). As in the ancient days, we have Apostles today. I know this is the True Church. Not just in my intellect or my heart, but in my whole being, I know that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior of the world. I believe, as it states in Section 76 of the Doctrine and Covenants, the Olive Branch Section, that there are many kingdoms awaiting us, and that I choose that my family and I go to the Highest Kingdom. This is my testimony..."
My father wasn't perfect and he was very often difficult to live with, but he was an amazing man. When I consider the obstacles placed before him all throughout his life I marvel at the positivity he did have. From his birth doctors were telling him he would die at any time and yet he lived until he was 58 years old. He lived a full life. Even after he had to retire because of his disabilities he tried to serve his community in any way he could.
My father taught me to use humor in any situation. He taught me to be silly and weird. He taught me to be myself, and he always made sure that I knew how highly he thought of me. He taught me the value of good music. So many of my most cherished childhood memories were with him in the car, listening to good music.
Most importantly, my father taught me the value of the Gospel. Despite the negativity he received when he joined the church, he never faltered. My father taught me the Gospel through example. He was always available to help me with my personal religious studies, whether they were studies of our faith, or another. My father died with a firm testimony of Jesus the Christ and left me with the greatest gift a parent can leave for their child. I look forward to the day when I can see him again. I will miss his "nub," but I'm excited for him to run up to me with two hands and two feet. I'm excited to tell him I made it, and that I never faltered either.
I apologize for the length of this post, it sort of got away from me. I intended on only sharing a brief and simple story about how my father found the truth of The Gospel, despite his circumstances. I will wrap it up here though, with a small piece of my testimony. Like my father, I know The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Days Saints is the Savior's true Gospel in modern times, and that it is the one sure path to salvation. I also know that while we will all face many challenges in this mortal life, the Gospel can help us get through those challenges like a champ and like a saint. Amen.
I have a lot of blogging to do, and hopefully what with my facebook fast this week, I can get caught up on it. Get ready for the binge of my binge and purge blogging.
This first one is probably going to be one of least interesting ones.
As much as I love gaudy things, I love simplicity- white with lots of windows
Lately I've had a few friends express an interest in what craftsman style houses looked like.
American Craftsman architecture and design is my favorite.
The thing is I could live in almost any style of house and make it a home and love it- there are so many fun styles of houses, but if I designed my dream house it would likely follow the craftsmen style because it samples from some of the best movements in architecture, including art nouveau, Victorian, and modern.
Think arts and crafts.
Think decorative, but not in a Marie Antoinette way.
Think earthy, woodsy, and colorful (natures colors).
Handcrafted wood, glass/stained glass, metal, etc.
I like this from Wikipedia, "In architecture, reacting to both Victorian architectural opulence and increasingly common mass-produced housing, the style incorporated a visible sturdy structure, of clean lines and natural materials."
Toss in some art deco and I might faint from sheer joy, "Emphasis on the originality of the artist/craftsman led to the later design concepts of the 1930s Art Deco movement."
Victorian + Art Deco + Craftsman = Laura's dream house.
Hello Pacific Northwest, America. AMERICA!
Give me a Wes Anderson house! FAINT.
Hello Eureka, California- the place that molded me into this motha amazing playa you see before you!
Be sure to include a kitten.
Common architectural design features, as listed on Wikipedia:
Low-pitched roof lines, gabled or hipped roof
Deeply overhanging eaves,
Exposed rafters or decorative brackets under eaves
Front porch beneath extension of main roof
Tapered, square columns supporting roof
4-over-1 or 6-over-1 double-hung windows
Frank Lloyd Wright design motifs
Hand-crafted stone or woodwork
Mixed materials throughout structure. HELLO DOLLY.
I have been meaning to post this blog for quite a while, and so I will just get right into it.
A few weeks ago I went to the gym at Weber State to work out, something that I do (or at least try to do) on a regular basis. There was nothing special or different about this day. I wasn't dressed different or anything like that, but what happened was...weird...well, unexpected.
Before my work out I went to the bathroom to freshen up, again, a very normal part of my routine at the gym. I was taking care of business Now, normally I am all about being open and frank about the normal bodily functions in life (see this blog), but lately I've been attempting to be a little more lady like in regards to when and how I talk about bodily functions. However, for the purposes of this blog I must say that I was indeed pooping. It wasn't any sort of smelly atomic bomb situation, it was just an every day, normal sounds and smells, number two.
So, as I was spending some alone time prepping my body for an hour long stationary bike ride, a group of girls came into the bathroom. One or two of them went into the stalls to pee, while the others looked in the mirror- classic girl behavior.
One of the girls then said aloud to one of the girls in the stalls, "Did you just fart?!"
To which one of the other girls in the stall responded with a no. Then all of the other girls in the bathroom started giggling and pointing at my stall, a delightful sight I could see through the cracks of my stall door.
All of the girls were holding their mouths and giggling loudly and escaped the bathroom as quickly as they could.
Good job girls, you caught me juggling smiley face jiggly balls in my underwear while playing the newest Weird Al song- what could be more funny? Oh wait, no, I was just doing something we all do every day, and I was doing it in the appropriate place for such activities. I'm sorry for being a human being? I'm sorry for using a restroom to use...the restroom?
Okay, I'm getting off track here. Actually immaturity wasn't what really upset me. I just kinda laughed along, in my head, and went on my business.
Oh wait! They weren't done. As soon as the pod of peer pressure college team athletes in matching white t-shirts left the bathroom they said things like, "Oh my gosh! What died in there?!" And made sound effects suggesting a sulfuric nuclear attack that killed off half of their team...and all of this in the gym in front of everyone.
But no, let's add a little bit of whipped cream on our butt-head sundae. All of this was on the weight lifting part of the gym, aka the man-side.
Awesome. So when I leave the bathroom everyone (men with rippling muscles in a state of half-dress) who had heard the tale of stink death would know it was me. Thanks a lot ladies, that's just what I want, all of the men in the gym to think I'm a diarrhea bomb...okay, I'm doing it again, getting off track. Like I said, at this point I still wasn't very upset. I'm Laura, I don't care if people know I pooped.
I POOPED.
Okay, we have the sundae and we added some whipped cream , now for the cherry on top. One of the girls apparently rushed out in such a hurry that she forgot to wash her hands, and so she rushed back in with her t-shirt covering the lower half of her face and washed her hands. When she hurried out, consumed by giggles, she shouted, "What died in there?!"
Okay, we're finally to the part where I get upset.
I was sitting there, obviously, and I started thinking. I'm okay. I'm going to strut out in the gym like nobodies business because I don't care.
But then I thought of some of my shy friends. I thought of how they get red in the face when any attention is brought to them. I thought of how they would die of embarrassment if they farted in public or accidentally burped aloud. I thought of myself, about a year ago when I was too scared to go to the bathroom in public restrooms. I was afraid of something like this.
My thoughts continued and I thought of people who slit their wrists for much less. I thought about people struggling to pull themselves through the day. Then I thought about them being in my position. I was going to be okay, but how would it have hurt those who have a hard enough time just getting by. I got angry. I felt like these girls were representing their sports team; they should be examples of good citizens on their campus. They shouldn't pressure each other into being jerks, they should build each other up and be kind to their fellow students.
I realize that we can't go around horrified to speak, lest we send someone over the edge. But I think we have to have a certain amount of awareness and respect for the general public. There's a difference between unintentionally hurting someone and straight up trying to make them feel bad. I can only assume that these girls were just giggling because one of them made a mistake about their friend stinking up a bathroom, and they were innocent in all of this to a point. However, when they left the bathroom, announcing to the whole gym that someone stunk up the bathroom they crossed the line.
I'm not suggesting that this is bullying in the traditional sense, or in other words, a group of girls didn't gather around my stall shouting, "PERIOD! PERIOD! PERIOD!" And toss tampons at me. Nobody shoved me into a locker or stole my lunch money. But I was in a university gym...being bullied by a group of women who are supposed to be leaders (I would suggest any athlete for a school automatically becomes a role model, whether good or bad).
Weird, it was weird.
When I finished (by the way this all happened in a matter of minutes in real life- this story made it sound like I was in there for an hour, haha) I strolled out of that bathroom standing up straight, unashamed...but I'm Laura. I am glad it was me and not someone who was struggling to make friends or who was struggling to be in public situations.
The moral of the story is to be more aware of how your actions might hurt someone. Take a moment to consider your audience. What might their story be? What trials or anxieties could they be facing?
The end. Whew.
Most of the time when I'm at the gym the money channel is on in front of me, and so I watch it. I find it interesting that all of the money experts seem to think Romney should be our new president...just saying. It's like how the cyclists think Lance Armstrong souped up, but the fans think he won all of those Tour de France's on human spirit and grit or something (if you ask me, even if he souped up, it's pretty damn impressive). The point, an argument based on the authority of others isn't the best, but sometimes it's a pretty intelligent place to start.
This is hilarious:
I love children and no matter what i do in this life, I want to help them!
Music means everything. I can't keep a beat to save my life. I am a terrible guitar player. I'm not the best singer. But I LOVE music. When a guy I'm chatting up starts telling about his musical tastes and they're not to my liking he suddenly becomes an UGO. Music is everything. So, here's some good music:
