By their fruits...(and more lessons)

Lesson 2: Joseph Smith

Affected by my parents' opinions (dad left the church by declaring in the middle of his priesthood lesson that "Joseph Smith was full of $#!+"), and things I have heard from friends and others, I have never really had a strong testimony of JS.

I obviously believe his story or I wouldn't be a member of my church, but I feel like I lack the enthusiasm that everyone else seems to have for him. I feel badly about that. It worries me that I may someday cross over to being like my parents, bitter and confused because I don't have all the answers.

Yesterday I slept through my church, so I went up to the Davis student ward. The Sunday school teacher was a recent convert. She was summing up the last few lessons of study which covered Joseph and the restoration of the gospel. She made a list of things that he either helped to establish, or made big changes to, and asked us all whether or not we have been blessed by those things. The Book of Mormon, baptism, the priesthood, temples, etc. I had to say yes to all. She then confessed her weakness in testimony that was caused probably by anti-Mormon literature that she was given before her baptism. Then she said, "Whatever questions I have, whatever I may not understand about him, I know that I have been blessed by the things that he has done. I cannot deny that he was a prophet. And I never will."

That's the statement I have been trying to find ever since my parents left the church.


Lesson 3: My friends are amazing

I learned a lot about a friend yesterday. Some of what I learned I already knew a little about, but now I have more of an inside perspective. I don't want to get into details other than to say that I hope none of my friends would ever fear losing my friendship because they are struggling with anything personal. As it is, I am in awe of your courage and I admire your strength. We all have something to overcome. We can all learn from those who are fighting the most persistent battles. You are inspiring.


Lesson 4: My heart can break over and over again

Ryan has a girlfriend. I ran into him last night after months of avoiding the whole Sacramento area. I've wanted to go back to the firesides for awhile, but not alone. I decided to take Sarah last night. I saw Ryan with a little blonde who he said was always trying to get him, but he had never been interested. She was hanging on his arm and whispering in his ear. That stuck like a dagger in the chest. I ran into Lei and we talked about her breakup with Sal and how I felt so bad that she had to see him all the time and I could avoid seeing Ryan for months.

n: If I had to see that everyday, I would have to move.
l: No, he's not actually dating her, she's just trying to get rid of some guy that's stalking her.

Ahh, relief. Now I could face him. The dagger turned into a puppy.

l: But he does have a girlfriend.

OUCH! Not a puppy, a rusty eggbeater with spikes planted right in my heart. I knew I would have to talk to him, so Sarah and I made our way over. He looked so excited, shook off blondie and hugged me like I was terminal. I didn't want to let go either. Finally we did, and had the basic small talk, how's life, work, etc. Then some chick walks up and asks "so did you get her a ring yet?" Just smile. No, he hasn't. Smile like you mean it, faker.

n: Yeah, Lei told me you have a girlfriend. How's that going?
r: Pretty good, blah blah, dating about 3 months, blah, getting pretty serious for me, but you know I like to move slow.
n: That's great! Good for you!
Someone was turning the eggbeater slowly.

Later, when saying goodbye, he hugged me and said "I love you". Reverse eggbeater. "I love you, too!" I said it so fast, I didn't have time to think about the way I said it. I'm sure it came out half desperate, half sad, but true. I do love him. I've spent 6 or 7 months trying to talk myself out of it and not be the psycho girl who begs a boy to love her, but it hasn't worked. When he said he has wanted to call me, my brain was screaming at myself for not ever calling him. Me and my pride.

Other than a brief exclamation of "I hate that he has a girlfriend. This sucks.", I managed to avoid the topic of Ryan all the way home. My mind, however, was running through some kind of play by play choreographed with the rusty eggbeater which every now and then would get stuck and need a few sharp jolts to start turning again.

As if that isn't bad enough, I got a root canal today. Someone needs to send me presents.

No place like home.

Today was a profound day. Not that the day itself was significant, but the things I learned were. I guess today was a day full of the profound.

Lesson number 1: I need to forgive my mom.

My mom sold our house this week. I knew it was coming, she's been sending boxes of my childhood memories to me for awhile and selling off our family heirlooms on ebay, but the day she announced that it was actually sold I had a total breakdown. Whenever I am asked if I live "at home", I cringe. Of course I live at home. Home is wherever I live. If you mean do I live with my parents, no, but that hasn't been home for a long time. But really, my rented house with come and go roommates doesn't feel much like home either. Nor do the dwellings of any of my family members seeing as we all renters now. I never wanted to move back to Texas, but I did picture someday taking my kids to Grandma's house and showing them my old room. My mom never got to do that. Her parents moved while she was on her mission. That is a touchy subject with her. She felt like they had abandoned her or something. Moved on as though she would never come back. It made me wonder how she felt justified in doing this now. I've been pretty torn because she shouldn't have to live alone in a 5 bedroom house and keep everything up just in case a child decides to come visit, but now I don't know that I'll ever want to visit. That sounds harsh, but mom isn't just moving into an apartment, she's moving in with Bob.

Bob was the big secret that mom always referred to as "my friend". He had no name, no face, and no meaning to us other than mom was always sneaking off to visit some "friend" and trying to drop enough hints to spark our curiosity and get us to ask about him so she could break her silence. We didn't play her game. As a result, we are still trying to catch up on this sudden relationship and are finding out that when she says WE are getting an apartment, she's not talking about her and the voices in her head. She means she is moving in with the man that she left her family for. That sounds harsh too.

It started when mom left the church. It must have felt like quite a relief to be rid of so much responsibility. I hear from Audrey that mom says she was a better person with the church, but it took too much work (something to that effect). But it was a few years later that she up and moved to London and got a taste of real freedom. True, she was there to support her family, but being away from them for so long left its mark. Ever since then she has been shedding her family responsibilities layer by layer. Now she is moving into an apartment on Independence Drive. How appropriate. How complete.

Sitting in church today and listening to the speaker, something he said struck me. He mentioned quitting and dropping out. He was listing things we quit and ways of doing it...dropping out of school, work, adults leaving family duties, etc. Of course it struck a nerve both because I have twice run away from college, but also I've had my mom on my mind. But at the same time the words of a hymn were repeating in my mind "Oh forgive as thou wouldst be e'en forgiven now by Me" and I knew I had to let my anger go. I get so overwhelmed sometimes that I just drop things and it becomes almost impossible to pick them back up. It doesn't make it right, but it is human. So is my mom. She was so responsible for so long, so on top of everything. She had to take care of everyone, five kids and a husband who may as well have been a kid too. I'm a little afraid that she learned how to quit from me. I always told her to relax and let things go. I never really believed that she would.

I feel abandoned and I feel hurt. Why doesn't she want to keep my school pictures or my homemade christmas ornaments or the birthday card I drew for her when I was 4? Why does she want to forget us? I don't know. I think she is making a big mistake, but it is hers to make, just like the many that I have made and will make. So I have to stop being angry with her.

It's really hard. I really miss my old mom.

Lessons 2, 3, and 4 are going to have to wait until tomorrow. It's late and I'm sad and I just want to go to bed.

Good, bad, I'm the girl with the pitchfork

Here's a brief view into the ridiculous way my mind works, and the breakthrough I had tonight in dealing with it.

I had to do nightfeed tonight. That means going back to the park late at night and checking all of the animal enclosures to be sure the animals are staying in and hobos are staying out. Then I feed the elephants, clean a few things and go home. People have asked me before if I get scared being there all alone in the dark looking for people who might have crept in and may be hiding somewhere. I don't usually. I got scared when the huge male lion pounced at me and there was only a little chain-link fence between me and 700 pounds of ferociousness. Otherwise, no, I don't get scared. I get paranoid.

Tonight I was feeding with a pitchfork. This prevents hay getting suck in your hands, all over your clothes, and in your pockets. It is my preferred way of feeding at night. Also, it means I don't have to carry a hook. In any emergency situation, a pitchfork can act as a hook. Actually, it can act as 4 or 5 hooks depending on the type of fork. Anyway, not important. So, I am walking past the wall of bamboo that lines the pathway which we feed the elephants on pitchfork full of hay, when I suddenly my heart skips and I think I may have just seen a face. 'Keep walking. You didn't do a double-take, so if someone is in the bamboo, they don't know that you know they are there. You can turn around to go get more hay and just kind of look out of the corner of your eye to see if you can get a glimpse, but don't react. If there is someone, and they decide to come out, good thing you've got a pitchfork! But maybe they know you've seen them, and you're pretending you didn't, and you've got this pitchfork, so they'll wait 'til your back is turned... Wait a second. If there is someone in the bamboo, why am I going to wait and see what happens? Why would I give them the power to scare me? And if there is no one in the bamboo, it certainly won't matter if I do THIS!'

HIYAUGHHHH!!!! I spun around and stabbed the bamboo as hard as I could.

Turns out there was nobody there. But I felt much better. I think I understand better why Don Quixote fought the windmills. Even if, or especially if, the monster is only in your mind, you have to kill it. The real crazies are the ones who refuse to fight something that isn't real, but make it real by obsessing about it.

All I know is that bamboo is going to think twice before it ever messes with me.

The Best Wedding Ever

I went to my friend Randy's wedding reception yesterday. Little Randy got married. In the Temple. To say I'm proud of him might sound condescending, but I it's not, I just am. Randy and I became friends because our big group of friends kind of fell apart and it was just us left. He is 5 years younger than me, and I kind of fancied setting him up with my little sister when he got back from his mission. He didn't end up going though because of illness, so instead, he stayed and became my best friend. Randy knew me better than anyone else. He probably still does. I relied on him. Unfortunately I took some bad advice (not only from him) and dated his psycho friend, which led to awkwardness and the need for me to distance myself a little. That's when things with Nicole got serious. So I never really got to know her, or the Randy that was dating her. It really sucked for lack of a better way to say it. Anyway, I stopped hanging out with Randy quite a while ago, but luckily, I still got invited to the reception. And oh, what a reception it was!

Tucked away in a little park set between houses (very Notting Hill), you walked in to see lovely table settings, candle light, champagne glasses with Maritnelli's, bouquets of flowers, and...a bouncy house. Little kids and bride and groom jumping about in a giant air-filled fun house in the middle of a wedding reception. I knew the rest would be great, and I wasn't disappointed. I'm sorry to say that I missed the cake cutting which began with bride removing her puffy bridal skirt to reveal white satin capri pants, then moving into a choreographed ninja fight scene set to Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon music with blocks and circling which ended when they simultaneously deposited cake in each other's mouth.

The puffy skirt was back in place when I arrived, and it was time for the toast, and then the Daddy/Bride, Mother/Groom dance. This was to the Cheeseburger song from Veggie-tales. I can't even think of how to explain the fact that this wedding had all of the wonderful silliness that was so fitting of Randy and Nicole, but still kept the feeling of an elegant celebration. Later Bride and Groom played their first 1 on 1 basketball game as a married couple. She won. What I liked best was that they kept playing. They invited other people to join. It wasn't just to be weird, or add one more spectacle, they really wanted to play. So why shouldn't they? It's their wedding.

I loved it. Everything about it. I even loved the handouts they had. The typical jelly belly-filled box with purple ribbon and a plastic blue spider inside.

I miss Randy, but there never has been any question that he really loves Nicole, and after this reception, there can be no doubt that he is and always will be happy with her. They are so perfect for each other it's scary. My branch president's wife told me today that she wishes that every couple could find that kind of happiness. Me too, but if they can't, at least let ME find it.

Congratulations Randy and Nicole! All the best!

Some of us can't even get married ONCE!

Met a guy online again. He has a career, a house, a dog, and green eyes.
We spent the last two weekends together. I took him to work to meet animals, and to my house to meet my roommates. Everyone thinks he's great. I kept thinking, "why does he have to touch me on the small of my back everytime I walk through a door?" and "hey! why didn't he do it that time?!" I don't know if life is actually confusing or if it's just my inner dialog complicating things.
We told eachother our life stories. I told him things I haven't talked about in a long time because I like to pretend they don't exist. He told me things we would both like to pretend didn't exist, but for different reasons.

Here's our conversation:
Me: That's my life story, your turn.
Guy: You aren't judgemental, are you?
My Inner Dialog: HA! I bet he's been married.
Me: No. (I can only use small words when my inner dialog is talking, or I get confused and can't form complete sentences.)
Guy: When I was 21 I met a girl..blah blah blah...we got married.
M.I.D.: SNAP! I was right! Don't make a face... Maybe there was a good reason they split up.
Me: What happened?
Guy: Blah blah, *good reason*
Me: So then what?
Guy: Well, two years later, I met a girl...
M.I.D.: Holy Schnikies. He's gonna say it.
Guy: ...we got married.
Me: *LAUGHTER*
M.I.D.: *MANIACAL LAUGHTER*

I don't even remember much more of the conversaion. I apologized for laughing. He explained the reasons for his second divorce (which didn't sound like reasons at all), and I tried not to look like I wished he would get tired and go home. He told me to take all the time I needed to think about it, but he really wants to go out again. I was pretty much done thinking, but to be fair, I put in an extra day of thinking. Now I am really sure.

How do you call a guy and say "sorry, you seem really great, but I don't want to be anyone's 3rd wife." I've never really been in this position before.

Stupid internet. When, oh when will I learn?