Ministering Angels

Venturing Into The Unknown

2007-03-08T10:56:00.000-05:00

I experienced a first last night. In that I went on a date with a divorced guy. With a kid. The kid didn't come on the date if that's what you are wondering. Just exists. And seems to be adored by his father. Despite my tendency to believe that the divorced deserve to be given just as much a chance as anyone else (there are some very legitimate reasons for it after all) and that the stigma that it sometimes carries is unfair, the whole thing makes me a little wary.

See, in my second hand experience with the matter, divorce has occurred with friends and some family due the infidelity (to spouse and/or faith), or the whole living a whole separate life and being a big fat liar. And it's all been on the male side that these things have occurred. Hence my hesitation. But can I just tell you that it was one of the best (possible the all time best) dates I have ever been on. I don't know why I was shocked that he actually acted like an adult but it was refreshing. The thing that really got me was when we were being seated in the corner of a crowded section on the restaurant. I began to sit down as he grabbed my arm and told me to hold on a sec. He then politely asked if it was at all possible to get the table across the room. Which we did. He apologized to me for being picky and explained that he wanted us to be able to talk and have a little privacy. Something about that small gesture was so impressive.

I don't know what will happen there, but at the very least, I realized something. That there are men out there. Apparently those that I have dated aren't so much of the "man" variety. Perhaps having had the responsibility of being a husband and father makes the difference. I don't know, but his whole demeanor was foreign to me. And appealing. The child thing does worry me as it complicates things and is not what I would ideally envision as the ideal situation, but I think I would be willing to give it a go for the right person. It was so refreshing to fall easily into conversation, and not feel like we had to strain to find things in common or understand each other. Comfortable.

He speaks very kindly of his ex-wife and only said that the divorce happened for good reasons. That's enough for me right now.

Anyone had any experience with this. Dating the divorced, or being divorced yourself and venturing back into the dating world?

Post Valentines Meanderings

2007-02-20T13:04:00.000-05:00

I am maybe the luckiest girl in the world. Wasn't expecting anything for the V-day (which is pretty typical, and which I'm fine with). My dear father however was all sneaky like and had roses sent to my office for me. So sweet.

The thing is, unlike most single people I know, I don't hate the day. Yes, it is a reminder of all utterly single I might be, but in the meantime, I see it as an excuse to express sappy sentiments to those in my life that I do love. And I think its fun. Plus, since I was a little girl, my father has always done something for his daughters on Valentines. I have fond memories of waking up to a red balloon anchored down by a card and candy on a chair next to my bed. The card usually contained some witty and thoughtful verse composed by my father to his daughters. I cherish those memories.

Now, as an adult, and the token single child, Dad still makes a point to spoil me, his little Valentine, each year. So my sentiments towards the day are overwhelmingly positive.

What I don't like about the day: girls who seem to expect something extravagant from their significant other. What's up with that? No wonder most men seem to have a begrudging bitter taste in their mouth regarding these expectations. Keep it sweet and simple I say. The occasional pricey gesture probably would not be turned down, but its also not necessary. Or expected. Not about material things people. About the actual love.

When I spoke to my father later in the day to thank him for the flowers, he related his days experiences to me. My parents had celebrated the night before with a nice dinner and trip to the DI (this is their idea of a fun night) where they split up to look at their separate things. Upon meeting at the front, my father proudly displayed his drill he discovered, and mom, a bag full of different sized drill bits. True love I tell ya.

The next day, the day of St. Valentine himself, Dad cheerfully asked what he describes as the sharp, attractive assistant at work how her valentines was going. She responded nonchalantly, "oh I don't do Valentines Day". My father then related to me this insight "I've found that women that say that, or express disdain for the day really mean that they don't expect anything." (and here I thought we had men fooled) He proceeded to explain how he rushed over to the grocery store, bought her a little "friend valentine" and some candy, expressing what a good addition she was tot he office and delivered it to her desk. She responded with a big smile.

"Good job Dad" I said. His response was the following, "If I could only transport the wisdom I have attained over the years by living amongst all these women to a man half my age, he would be a force to be reckoned with." Indeed daddy. Indeed.

Is it just me?

2007-02-05T12:07:00.000-05:00

I've recently discovered a few things that make me feel not-quite-so-alone-in-the-world.

1) I'm not the only one that guys disappear on. After having proclaimed that they are interested. With no prompting from my side. And with what I assume to be a proper amount of encouragement in response without appearing that I am more into them than I actually am at present. Honestly, most of the time, I'm not heart broken or anything, as I probably wasn't all that interested. Yet. That usually takes time before I'm invested enough. But why disappear without any explanation? Profession of interest and desire to see each other more one night, and then nada. Thats just rude.

2) Men are not the only to disappear. Apparently women do that as well. I admit that after a bad first date, I don't eagerly contact the guy and totally understand if you're just not that into me, doing likewise. But have never expressed interest and then not followed through. A conversation with a guy I once went out with a few times opened my eyes to this fact. WE mutually agreed that it wasn't going to go anywhere and are now good friends. See, adults. It fun to act like one.

3) I am not the only one that makes believe that the guy who disappeared got in a car accident and is in a coma and therefore cannot contact me as he would be dying to do were he in his right mind and all.

mama said there'd be days like this

2007-01-23T10:01:00.000-05:00

It's been quite a while since my last post, a fact I regret a bit, given that the last 10 months of my life have been kind of exciting: I moved across the country, started a new job, acclimated to humidity AND a new singles ward, and made it into a choir that performs at one of the world's most respected concert halls. All while maintaining a healthy and happy long-distance relationship. And without my knowing it, my last post, "point system," told the story of its beginning.

It's kind of funny to think about it now because I wouldn't have believed a year ago, if someone had told me, that we'd be where we are today. Not only because we both now live somewhere we weren't living then (thankfully now in the same different place), but because the perfect fit of our combination was so surprising.

I had always believed my mom when she told me I should find someone who was my best friend. I knew that logic made sense, I saw it in my parents' relationship, but it always made me a little bit cranky when she said it like it was just simple as that. 'Cause I had tried. And tried. And tried. And it never worked.

But then I started hoping that despite my botched attempts, somehow "it" would all work out. I didn't know what "it" was, how I would recognize "it" or how I'd get myself ready for "it," but I began hoping. And I began asking the Lord to help me really seek it, which I'd never really done before.

And I began to believe He really did know how to make me the happiest. It was a tough concept for me to grasp, it really was. So simple in its direct promise, but it seemed impossible to apply it. Be He told me He did, so I knew it was time to believe Him.

And then, somehow, it did work out. He did know (probably still does) what would make me happy and He opened my eyes so I could see it, right there in front of me. It wasn't what I expected, but it is what I needed. And it's really nice. And we're planning on it being nice for a really long time to come.

Turns out, my mom knew what she was talking about.

In the name of love

2006-12-14T13:19:00.000-05:00

During a conversation with my father the other day, he expounded on how he would like to be able to assist me more financially with my current endeavors. He was apologetic that we (my sisters and I) did not have the perfect childhood. Financially speaking. I see it differently.

I promptly advised my father that our upbringing was in fact, perfect. I had a loving father, who despite great skills and education, had to forgo the affluent lifestyle he hoped to provide in the name of personal integrity. He worked hard to support us in everything he did, always looking for new resources, and being let down time and time again by his associates. My mother was our best friend. Fun and functional. Beautiful in all aspects. And talented. They loved each other. And still do. Had their rough moments when the stress of finances set in, but my overwhelming recollection is of the affection they displayed for one another. There wasn't much extra money, if any, but the experience of having to go without, bargain shop, and be creative with our thrifty finds edified us. We are close knit, and better for it.

Most of all, I have had a great example in love. And relationships. My parents get exasperated with each other but still are best friends and constant companions. It is the simple things that are evidence of that to me and I am sure to them.

My mother has always ironed my Dad's shirts for work. At times, circumstances have changed, Mother has gone back to work, and so sometimes Dad would do the ironing for the both of them. While my father was a bishop, she saw to it that food was prepared and ready to go when he was racing to meetings between work and church. He constantly encourages her in her creative pursuits. More recently, while she faced a stressful work environment that was draining the life from her, Dad, despite his own hectic work schedule, insisted on making her breakfast every morning. Usually a shake, with fruit and a base filled with vitamins and minerals. Sometimes, he ran out of ingredients and got creative.

This is where the love abounds:

There are a handful of mornings that the shakes tasted a little "different" and so Mom inquired as to the ingredients. One day, there wasn't the usual selection of frozen fruit or yogurt, and Dad discovered some forgotten frostbitten lime popsicles of my nieces in the back of the freezer and figured that they would make a good substitute. Mom said it was interesting in texture and taste, but not so much as the morning when she found the shake to have a gritty texture and rather bitter unpleasant taste. Apparently the vitamin enriched base that he usually used in the shakes was gone, and in an effort to make sure that his dear wife was properly nourished, Dad instead tossed in some of their multivitamins.

I think it is the sweetest thing ever. And what is even sweeter, is that she drank it.

Yeah, we had it good.

Insecure

2006-12-13T12:14:00.000-05:00

I think it's a given that we all have our little insecurities. From the most beautiful to the homely. Some may be more extreme and crippling than others, but the nature to want what we don't have is all the same. Mostly I like myself. There are some physical things like when I was standing in line for legs, I would have opted for the long sexy legs rather than the long sturdy ones. Granted mine aren't bad, and some have mentioned that they'd prefer mine over their short legs. Then again, I would prefer their thick hair, and had I super thin legs, than I probably would look pretty disproportionate with my curvey body and need to trade that in for more of a waif-ey one.

Last night as I watched a rerun (edited) episode of Sex and the City, I got to thinking. Carrie was writing an article about modelizers, or men that only date models aka unbelievably good looking and wellproportioned women. Usually with no intellect (not that beauty has to equal dumb, but the idea that this is all these women have going for them and the men don't seem to care). I find this to be true quite often. And not at all limited to the unbelievably attractive men, but you're general average men as well. Posing the question that, if mediocre men are only going for the unrealistic stereotype, what hope is there for the average, intelligent, attractive, but real life women?

I realize that not all men are completely shallow in such regards. And that is an additional blessing of the gospel; perspective and priorities. My beef is, there are guys ranging from the very goodlooking to the quirky and cute that have a good grasp on the gospel, are smart, responsible, and yet only seem to be attracted to those that are seem to be at the top of their league physically. Those that appreciate maturity, intellect, and beauty beyond a hard body seem to be, in my experience, the creepy, unbalanced type, who a) scare the begeezes out of me or b) are so extremely caught up in being the perfect peter priesthood that they wouldn't like me anyway, because I am not shocked by all swear words and am the type to be inspired by shows like Sex and the City.

I believe that once in a blue moon do we come across someone well balanced enough that it may actually work, but then the desperation to hang on to that fleeting opportunity sets in and I come off as one of the creepy folk and scare the begeezes out of him.

It's an uphill battle.

The end of the episode was actually refreshing, as the gorgeous man model revealed how vulnerable and alone he feels sometimes, that he really wants what most people want, family and stability. And that he thinks that Carrie's nose (that she hates) is cute. Deep down, we are all the same, with insecurities, faults, and a rockin hard body that is just harder for some of us to find and/or recognize in ourselves.

To be or not to be....

2006-11-08T13:11:00.000-05:00

It's not that I don't have my insecurities, and it's not that I never put up any kind of a front. I think that's human nature to generally want the world to see the best you, or sometimes, what is not even you but what you want to or feel you should be. As for myself, I am generally an open book. I am incredibly diplomatic so I probably put on a little bit of a show on occasion for the sake of getting along, or the comfort of others, but when it comes to my personal life, there is not much that I hide. Even though sometimes I think it would be to my benefit if I did.

Transparent. That's what my mother tells me I am. I think it's fitting. I'm polite, but I like what I like and will let you know without reservation. What I don't like, well, depending on the situation I will be politely silent, or brutally honest. Depends. For the most part I don't try and be what I'm not (which is why the prospect of marketing my own business is terrifying.....I like what I like and don't always expect others too, so you can imagine how it might be difficult). If someone strikes my fancy, or makes me laugh, or I find them interesting, I will talk to them openly.

The issue with all of this is: I'm finding that most men run away from this. If im not interested, I will definitely be guarded in my attention towards the individual because I do not like to give false impressions..... and yet, those are the ones I can't seem to shake. On the other hand, when I am myself and comfortable, despite intense or just mild interest, or just wanting good friends, I find they disappear quickly. Honestly, I don't really understand it. Which is fine. So, I should be intentionally cold to the people I find interesting. Got it.

I watched a movie this weekend, and a line struck me. Not that it's completely profound, but given some recent occurrences it just seemed to hit home. The main character just couldn't seemed to always date the wrong guys and her friend comments that "they are all wrong until you find the right one." Comforting in a way.

It's not that I'm not independent, or that I have to get married NOW. It's human nature to want companionship, and human nature to get impatient and, on occasion, discouraged by the process.

As before mentioned, my parents must sense this as they make such gestures as signing me up for a singles site (because so and so met her husband that way and he's great!) which really is fine. There was this guy who actually wanted to meet me sometime in the next few weeks as he will be in town on business. Yet, I can't seem to get passed the profile that is composed as a letter to his future children, written by himself and his unknown future wife about their manner of meeting and desires for the future. Sweet sentiment. But cart, horse, put them in order.....comes to mind.

This is hard work.

Sincerely, Sarah

2006-11-01T14:38:00.000-05:00

Yes, so I kinda, sorta, really doubt that anyone is still reading this seeing as how there hasn't been a post in well, forever. Nevertheless, I do enjoy the slight ambiguity of being able to vent, ponder, pontificate, and otherwise complain about the adventures of singledom here.

So, to update the status: still single. Check. Dad was concerned enough about this that he took it upon himself to create me an account on a singles site, profile and all. Check. I reluctantly agreed to "try it out" despite my disdain for the whole process (yes I realize there are perfectly decent people on such sites and yes I even know some people that have met great people and gotten married and lived happily ever after which is great, just not my thing). Check. This amounted to receiving numerous creepy emails from men twice my age. Check. And some not quite as creepy which I actually responded to. Which resulted in 3 dates. 2 of which were actually pretty great. 1 of which the guy canceled last minute via email and later explained that it was because he was just too nervous and felt like it was a pity date.....via email (do guys not realize that we have modern resources such as the telephone as well?). Check. To which I ripped him a new one about how I'm sick of guys not asking me out in the first place and people telling me that it's just because they are intimidated(?) and I don't go on pity dates, and he has never really met me so how does he even know if I'm "out of his league" as he claimed, but I along with most girls are more interested in the guys that actually ask them out and follow through with it....(the one thing I like about the internet is that I find myself being much more brutally honest than normal). Check. Guy responded pretty positively and called and apologized and we went out, and it was decent. The other two were surprisingly enjoyable as guy was SUPER attentive, and sweet, and complimentary, and flirty, and treated me like a real date date instead of some random girl. And then disappeared. Broke it off via email....I'm starting to not love email (I'm not sure what he broke off as we had gone out twice, but I guess he was breaking off buying me meals and his inability to keep his hands off me - nothing inappropriate mind you, just very hands on) Check.

This is my beef: HE was the super attentive one. Yes I responded to that, but not nearly as much. HE was physically attentive (which was nice despite my issues with that). So why is it that as soon as I get comfortable with that idea and start to return some of those advances or just accept them a little more that guys run away. I can't seem to figure out if it's just the pursuit, or they are fickle, or insincere. The last one just gets me. I cant stand when people in general are big flirts. Can't be trusted. Maybe I'm the worst at reading people, I don't know. Granted, all guys aren't like that, but it seems as if the ones that are forward enough in the right ways, or rather persistent(?) enough for me to let down my guard enough are the ones either without the best intentions, or with no intentions at all.

It's fine really. It's not like I'm heart broken (although don't tell me that you all don't want to be worshiped by all members of the opposite sex and would take such a response as a slight rejection, but whatever). It's just perplexing is all. Sometimes I would really like to understand how the opposite sex sees me. That would definitely clear things up a little. On one side, I have family, friends, and coworkers telling me that I need to be more forward, flirtatious, etc. And so I make an effort (always room to improve oneself, no?) and when I do, the guys that are around run away. Maybe I go overboard. That's it. It's a well known fact that Sarah has issues with moderation. Which would explain her Diet Coke habit, and why this post JUST WONT END.

Sincerity is important to me. And why people tell me to flirt more. Because I don't believe in misrepresenting myself. My mother says I'm transparent. It's my super power evidently.

Sincerely,

Sarah

Deception

2006-04-19T16:16:00.000-04:00

Alright, I just needed an outlet to get the following off my mind.

How is it some people can be so deceptive? I'm talking about leading double lives. And deceiving those supposedly closest to them, namely their spouse? This occurrence has seemed to be prevalent in the lives surrounding mine. Especially lately. Is it just me? Or have we in general leaned towards this tendency more and more as time goes by?

Not counting the weddings of my immediate family, I have been a bridesmaid 4 times. As of this past weekend, 3 of those weddings have ended (or very soon will be ending) in divorce. And there are additional friends who have experienced pretty much the same thing. For pretty much the same reasons. Some of the specifics may vary, but it all boils down to deception and addiction. Of these three, I knew the spouses very well. In fact was there when the couples met for two of them. I was there during their courtship, helped plan the weddings. I consider myself a good judge of character, generally. And each of them has fooled me as well. It is a sad occurrence, and I have watched those dear to me suffer because of it. Some to rise above it and carve out a wonderful life for themselves, and others have let themselves become defined by it.

The most recent and upsetting one happened this last week, to a cousin very dear to me. A sweet, trusting girl who I love. I actually introduced her to her husband. Helped him pick out the ring. After some 6 years of marriage, she comes to find out that he was never what he seemed. Despite his charismatic personality and sweet and giving nature that won over everyone around him. He was overconfensating for some pretty big demons he had been hiding since way before the wedding. A literal Mark Hacking. I'm just grateful that she is alive and despite their efforts, they were unable to have children in this time.

My heart aches for her. She has been so strong, and at the same time, is broken, betrayed, and somewhat helpless. As these events unfolded this past weekend, her husband happened to come to my front door. I am usually the queen of treating difficult situations diplomaticly. When I saw his face, I blurted out a hello, and couldn't find any other words. On some level I felt betrayed as well. I had accepted him as part of my extended family, and was betrayed for her.

I believe that some in these situations knowingly ignore signs of danger, or naively disregard them. Others go in with there eyes wide open, only to come to horrible realizations much later.

So what triggers this need to put up a false angelic front? Pressure to succeed? For acceptance? Perfection? Material possessions? I discussed this all with my father and he pointed out that things are not as they once were. He and my mother married very young, as many have and still do. He explained that he feels their is more of a risk involved today than even at his time. The world, and the adversary has this grasp on many, distorting their priorities. Even in an effort to do what one knows is correct, this distortion takes a turn that gradually leads to self destruction. A deception even to ones self.

He thanked me for always have such a clear vision of what is important. That I do not measure my self worth by what others may view as successes, but by what I know to be of value. He gives me too much credit, but am thankful that I have been taught these things in my youth. I only pray that those who are victims of such deception can see these things too in dark hours and use such injustice to grow as individuals.

It was ironic, or perhaps divinely planned, that she came to my family's ward on Sunday, as another such woman close to us spoke of agency and how our decisions effect others. She had experienced a terrible episode by her ex-husband in front of their two small children hours before she spoke, and discreetly referenced such challenges in her life. Her words and emotions were composed well. Mine not so much. For the first time in a long time, I wept. My dad leaned over and whispered how brave she was to speak of those things while we couldn't even keep our composure. Afterwards, my cousin and I embraced. She sobbed, as did I. I wish I could take that pain away from her. Why must such people be left to prey on the innocent and trusting?

I'll stop now. Just needed to get this all out in some form. It's choppy and probably base and mellow dramatic. But it helps.

I would walk 500 miles.....

2006-03-13T16:14:00.000-05:00

Yeah, just heard that blessed song by the Proclaimers (that's who sings it right? I don't trust my memory and am obviously too lazy to find out) on the radio. I was suddenly taken back to high school, and the scene (does anyone think of past experiences as if they happened in a movie....or is that just me?) where a wise friend proclaimed she would marry the first man who sang that song to her. Now, listening to the words, it is really sweet. I don't know if I would require him to walk 1,000 miles for me, but the sentiment sure is nice.

Really, is that too much to ask? :)

point system

2006-03-13T11:23:00.000-05:00

I have a friend in my singles ward. We serve in similar areas of the ward and I have a lot of fun with him. We've been out on a couple casual dates, basically just dinner between friends, and yesterday he asked me to dinner this week. I was glad to accept because he's a good friend and a lot of fun. I'm a couple years older than him and but I'm like him as a friend and enjoy hanging out with him.

Anyway, as I was leaving church yesterday, about 45 minutes after our meetings ended, I came out to find him scraping the snow off my car. Call me a sucker for chivalry, but this totally impressed me. On Saturday afternoon it had also snowed. As I was cleaning my car off I remembered a time last year when I was leaving my (at the time) boyfriend's house when it was snowing and he didn't come out into the cold night air to help me clean my car. At the time it didn't bother me, but as I thought about with hindsight, I decided I want to find someone who will do the little things to show me he wants to take care of me.

I think those little things are so important, to give and receive. I'm always sad to hear girls complain about a guy who wants to open their doors, walk them to the door, etc, like the men are somehow taking away their independence or importance by being gentlemen and treating them respectfully. I personally love it when a guy remembers to open my door and does the little things to show me honor and respect. It fosters my respect for him in return. So, while points may not matter in this specific case, my friend totally scored some yesterday afternoon.

SME

2006-03-06T11:34:00.000-05:00

I recently read a book on dating (a fact I don't necessarily feel comfortable sharing with the general public) which was recommended to me by a fellow singleton. I don't often consult "expert" sources about dating for a number of reasons; generally, it's because I feel most problems, personal or otherwise, are best solved by living and applying principles of the gospel. But this book actually had some good insights, so it kind of changed my mind a bit about self-proclaimed dating Subject Matter Experts.

To be honest, I probably fall into the category of "self-proclaimed expert on dating," but I qualify this statement by saying I'm only an expert inasmuch as the questions at hand apply to me and people like me. Further justification for this title is found by stating I don't consider relationships that end by breaking up to be failures. My definition of successful dating: any relationship that helps me learn more about myself, how I relate to others, and most importantly, my relationship with my Father in Heaven.

This isn't to say I think I have it all figured out (I'm definitely far from that point); my repeated chances to learn lessons through dating pretty much prove that for me, over and over again. But I've learned not to resent these "opportunities" because in the last year I've been given the most poignant lesson of my life thus far: the moment I really accept the pain of an experience (stop kicking against the pricks and trying to find a way "out" of it instead of a way "through" it) is the moment I truly accept the power of the Atonement which changes the pain to sweet joy. I've discovered how to let my heart truly change and become ready to receive whatever blessing is in store. The trust that the pain really is a blessing is what propels me to continue trying with the hope that someday I may actually get it right, and it completely prevents any real bitterness from entering my heart (a pretend bitter diatribe every now and then gets to stay, since they never stop being funny).

Just like anyone who finds something that has improved their life, I find myself wanting to share this truth of "trusting pain" with people around me because I really believe it will help them, too. But I don't usually bring it up, due to my fear of coming across as a pompous know-it-all (with no real credentials to speak of as I am, in fact, still single) and I've found that those still struggling to overcome bitterness about dating and being single usually aren't that receptive to solutions to it.

But once in a while I meet someone who wants to hear what I have to say and after they do, they like it, and then I like it because it makes me feel like maybe I know what I'm talking about after all! So while I still don't claim to be an expert on what other people should do in every situation, I think I am getting better at knowing what I should do and that at least makes my life happier. Maybe just one more year's experience will qualify me to be the official Dating Subject Matter Expert for YSA's everywhere! (I'm kidding)

Reunion

2006-03-02T13:56:00.000-05:00

My mission has a reunion coming up. Which I am looking forward to. Not looking forward to the traffic jam that is Provo around this time, but otherwise, I expect to enjoy myself. I have good friends from the mission (I even live with one) and so my usual social anxieties are not an issue. Or weren't. Until my darling roommate declares that she will not be attending, but I have to go. Not only do I have to go, but I have to bring a date. Because I would be pathetic otherwise. Number one, I resent the pathetic remark. And two, I prefer to go to these things solo seeing as unless I am pretty much married (not that i ever had been, but i imagine it being easier that way), it just makes the whole situation awkward for me. And I don't care. I guess it wouldn't be bad with the right person. But goodness. I had nothing but happy anticipations for the evening until she dropped this bombshell that she was leaving for the weekend to avoid such social interactions and leaving me by my lonesome to deal with certain people who I love but can handle just so much of....that will be in town....and possibly staying with yours truly. But I regress. Am I out of it not to give a care about the stigma of showing up stag? Yes, my mission president will ask me if I have been dating, yes, he will ask about my involvement in local singles programs, yes, he will inquire about my flirting habits, and YES he will offer me flirting lessons. Okay, maybe a date wouldn't be such a horrible idea. But preferably a date with a good sense of humor who would enjoy making up relationship stories in order to ward off pressures from my good intentioned mission president. That would be ideal. Why do I feel an obligation to go to these things in the first place?

to kiss or not to kiss

2006-02-27T10:37:00.000-05:00

I think there's a window of opportunity to kissing that if missed can never really be opened again. If kissing happens too early in a relationship there's little chance of it growing to anything more substantial than physicality (and before you post an angry disagreement to that statement let me say, I know there are exceptions; my sister married a NCMO and is still very happy seven years later.), but if it happens too late in the game (or not at all) then the situation just becomes an awkward hybrid of "dating friends" where neither person really knows what they are.

My best friend recently dated a guy with whom everything began perfectly. They had been introduced by a mutual acquaintance and liked each other right away. Everything progressed along the natural course: good-night hug, hand holding, cuddling during a movie, so of course the first kiss seemed imminent. But with the next date came a previously unknown awkwardness between them and the kiss didn't happen. Then through a series of rescheduled dates, business trips, and sporadic text messages the budding relationship was downgraded to "friends."

As girls we applied the "he's just that not into you" theory to the boy's behavior and left it at that. There were bystanders at the time who advocated giving him the benefit of the doubt because he really was legitimately busy and truly hadn't seen his "friend from out of town" in a long time ("out of town" and "long time" being relative in this case as the "friend" actually lives just half an hour away from him and had been "in town" just a few weeks before). But the bylaws of the "he's just not that into you" theory are explicitly clear, specifically because of cases like this, and even if they weren't, the possibilities of a relationship forming from this situation decreased dramatically when the kissing window of opportunity closed with nary a pucker to be had.

So when IS the right time for kissing? Let's be honest, no one knows; it's a different for every couple and you can't really put a timeframe on it. But one thing is for sure: once that window closes it's real hard to open again. The next thing to be sure of is debates and conversations about kissing will certainly live on among single members of the Church until the end of time, or at least until the Millennium (when hopefully we'll be too busy to worry about such trivialities, or we'll be given one last chance to choose before we're assigned eternal companions by random just to finally get on with it already!). So we'll have plenty of time research the question further...which will certainly lead us to a conclusive answer!

It's not what you want that makes you fat, it's what you get

2006-02-23T16:18:00.000-05:00

So remember that. I sure do. Considering my mother has told me that all my life. And it's not so much about physical appearance and weight (lest you think me cruel and insensitive) but not needing everything that I want at this moment. That has been stellar advice that has come up repeatedly throughout my life. Something I recall when I get frustrated because nothing seems to work out according to my time tables. Or does, and then I realize that maybe what I thought I wanted so desperately isn't all it was cracked up to be.

I know this is deep stuff, or at least for the shallow minded such as myself, but I have been reflecting on such things quite a bit as of late. So what do I want right now? To be happy, to get on with school already, to find a new apartment, and find means to purchase a new camera. So I can start taking pictures again.

There was indeed a time when I was restless, (okay still are on occasion) that I wanted to get on with my life in regards to.....stuff. I've learned a lot about going with the flow. And I (gag) believe that everything happens for a purpose. Be it good or bad, intentional or accidental, it is for our growth and understanding.

I occasional falter in this thinking and wish for more. Now. But as my beautiful, witty, and oh so wise mother would say "If wishes were fishes, we'd all have a fry." And ain't it the truth?

obligatory valentine's

2006-02-14T12:28:00.000-05:00

I'm reading Blink: the Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcom Gladwell. It's my current "keep in the car for the random free-time during the day" book and is very good. I just read about the research done on mind-reading through facial expressions (everyone does it), how it's one of our most basic and accurate forms of communication. Among other interesting things about this was research done on how our facial expression can actually create the mood they're expressing, in addition to the mood expressing itself through our face.

So I'm putting it to the test today and creating my best "happiness" face to see if this changes my mood tday, because frankly, I've been dreading Valentine's Day this year. Normally I don't care about it; whether I'm dating someone or not, it's just never been a "holiday" I've bought into. But this year there seems to be something stinging to me about all the happy couples when I'm not currently part of such a couple.

But the happy face is working I think, 'cause I'm not nearly as bitter today as I thought I might be...but that could also be a function of my officemate bringing me a sarcastic valentine with a Reese's peanut butter heart, which I ate for breakfast. And who wouldn't be happy with that kind of start to the day?

So now I'll help my friend buy her new boy a V-Day treat at lunch and maybe stop off at the office down the hal to flirt with the hot, rich guy who offered to take me to San Diego for the weekend to "teach me to surf" (yeah, like I just fell off the boat yesterday). Because it turns out today is really just another day, and isn't so bad after all.

When it comes down to it, even though I'd obviously prefer to be part of a happy couple today, being happily single is better to me right now than dating someone who isn't right for me just because I don't want to be alone. Because if the options around me aren't who I'm looking for, and aren't what I know will make me the happiest, they're not worth exploring further, despite any "electricity" that may exist between me and the options. And it's so nice to have reached the point in my life where I truly feel okay with that.

If you'd be mine, I'd walk the line...

2006-02-13T11:22:00.000-05:00

So I just realized that I start most posts with "So...". So I need to stop that.

So I tend to get a little obsessive about certain things (not like obsessive stalker, no worries, more like I like something and I kinda sorta overdo it). For instance, after seeing the Johnny Cash tribute "I Walk The Line" (in which Joaquin Phoenix was superb) I went and bought the Johnny Cash Gold Collection as well as Johnny's Gospel Collection and have been listening to these pretty much non-stop ever since. And can I just tell you? I heart Johnny Cash. Yes I do. And I save the gospel collection for Sunday listening. I find it inspirational. And could care less if my roommate thinks me strange for doing so.

Anyhow. There is something I suddenly love about his music. My father has always been a fan, but I never paid much attention to it. His music is raw, the subject matter real. Sometimes suprisingly simple, and so real. There is something about it that I love.

I have become particularly fond of the song "I Walk The Line." And I'm sad to say that I think it has everything to do with being alone (relationship-wise) yet again on Valentine's Day. Now before you think me whiny and self pity-ing, let me remind you that it is not so much pathetic as hopeful. I know this sounds sappy and annoyingly like the hopeful optimistic that I am. So hang with here.

I used to get occasionally weepy and pathetic over the matter, but no longer. I'm patient. No sense in getting myself worked up over something that obviously will not change overnight. I have something to do on Valentine's Day (granted it's either a service project, or valentine's party thrown by some delightful Cuban refugees, but I'm stoked all the same.) This year, there is clarity over the matter and like I said, hope for the future.

And at the risk of making you all gag, I will tell you what this has to do with Johnny Cash. The aspiration of someone that will someday walk the line for me and vice versa. I find it very easy to be true....Because you're mine, I walk the line. Or if you'd be mine, I'd walk the line?

You can stop rolling your eyes now.

Happy Valentine's Day!

third date's a charm

2006-02-13T10:14:00.000-05:00

About three years ago my best friend and I decided a new rule was needed in our dating lives--we're no longer allowed to start liking a boy until he has asked us out three times. Sidenote: We define "like" in this sense as getting overly excited, daydreaming, making too much out of nothing, etc. This is by no means encouragement to play hard to get or be insincere. I'm definitely pro-sincerity and believe playing "the game" successfully is done without "playing games." Anyway, we had been noticing an alarming tendency of ours to get too attached early on, without the reality of the relationship backing up such an attachment. And while we are both still single three years after implementing this rule, we have been happier and more successful daters because of it.

My observations of relationships around me have convinced me the tendency to make too much of too little happens in both guys and girls mainly because it's so easy (and kind of fun) to get caught up in the excitedment of meeting someone new--where the otherwise benign details of personality become fascinating when compared with your own corresponding charms. Soon you find yourself believing the foundation of your shared loved for the Shins really is sure enough for a long and fulfilling relationship. Couple that with your similar preferences for asparagus over broccoli and eternity is sure to be just around the corner!

Don't get me wrong by my flippancy, I think the small compatibilities add up to a lot, and I'm all for enjoying the litte things in life and relationships...but time has taught me a little wisdom and self-control early on makes for a more enjoyable experience all around.

Enter the three date rule, where an extra bit of emotional restraint goes a long way. It sounds silly, but it's worked for every girl who has tried it. Sorry guys, I don't know what your solution to this tendency might be...maybe the same rule could apply? You just can't like her until the third date? (Yes, I'm an old-fashioned girl; I think you need to do the initial asking...we can get into that later). I wonder if it works both ways.

lily, my one and only

2006-02-10T19:30:00.000-05:00

So, I'm Lily.

My brother found ministering angels a while back and recommended it to me, mainly because I'm his main link to the lds singles world, bless his married-for-ten-years heart. Actually, he's awesome so following his advice wasn't a huge leap of faith. I liked the blog and saw Sarah's request for help so here I am, excited to be posting my own insights, original or otherwise.

A few facts about me:

27
short and petite
active in church
active in life

I love:
laughing
running
good music
intelligent conversation, any subject
water

So that's me in a nutshell. There'll be more to come!

Pink is my favorite color...

2006-02-10T11:19:00.000-05:00

(Let me premise this by saying that you are in no regards obligated to read the following. This has turned into my own soul searching personal rantings, and I in no way guarantee this will be inspired, enlightening, let alone enjoyable. Enjoy.)

Okay, so pink really isn't my favorite color. I lied. Well, it's not anymore. Once upon a time, I wore nothing but pink frilly girly things. Including leatards. with pink tights. And purple leg warmers. Doing what can only be described as some sort of distorted interpretive dance with my ribbon dancer. Those were the days. I was a die-hard GIRL.

In those days, my favorite form of entertainment was Jem and She-ra. I had the She-ra action figures. My friend Bradley had the He-man ones, and Skeletore's castle. I loved She-ra, but think I kinda missed the boat with that one. Bradley was constantly rescuing She-ra from Skeletore's castle because my She-ra was a damsel in distress. I made up sappy dramatic love songs. Some of which my mother still has scribbled on random pieces of paper. I was a daydreamer, and fantasized of my prince charming. I lived in quite the make-believe world.

Since then, things have changed a bit. Don't get me wrong, I still live in a make-believe world, but am not quite the girly girl that I once was. I now rarely wear pink (despite the fact that it is somehow supposed to make you look attractive to men...something about being vulnerable). I wear a lot of chocolate brown (it's the new black) and navy blues. I don't let myself daydream, because it usually chocks up to ensuing disappointment, and who has the time? I gag at ultra-dramatic sappy love stories. I now see She-ra as an independent woman that I aspire to be (not really) and Jem is my idol (a business woman and rock star?).

It's not that I have lost all my girliness. I still like to look pretty. But am somehow ashamed by that. Should I be? I say no! It is high time I embrace who I am. Yes, I am going out today to find an adult version of my pink leotard and legwarmers (ok, not really). I am just tired of feeling like I need to pretend to not care about these things when really I kinda do. There are at present three (count em) bridal magazines bought at random sitting on my couch with earmarked pages of dresses that are awesome (and before you think me a completely lost cause, I have helped plan lots of weddings and being a wedding planner is my secret ambition....shhh....what's the saying....6 times a bridesmaid? Oh no, it's always, I'm 6X a bridesmaid).

Yeah, so girls of the universe unite!

A humbling experience.....

2006-02-09T14:19:00.000-05:00

So while most days I like to think that I am SuperWoman and in such can conquer the world and don't need no stinkin man to validate my existence, on other's I am proven wrong, well partially anyway.

When one lives as a single woman and grows accustomed to doing things for oneself, one gets to feeling pretty darn independent. Until one realizes that there are some things that one simply cannot do for oneself without significant bodily harm.

Recently, I purchased new furniture, leaving my precious DI couch with no where to go and frankly in the way while cramping the style of my apartment. The couch was planned to be donated to refugee families that needed it, but there remained one obstacle to overcome. A vehicle capable of hauling such an item, I have not. My brother in law sold his truck, and where does that leave me? To top it off, I live at high altitudes that require a precarious, steep, staircase to access the apartment. On several occasions, roommate and I stated that "Heh, we can do this, no problem, and yet it was never done because in the back of our minds, we knew we needed help but are way to proud to admit it.

In true LDS story fashion, something entirely unexpected happened. A mission friend called up for some obscure reason and before hanging up asked, "hey, is there anything you guys need?" So we sheepishly joked, "Not unless you know someone with a truck..."
He said he might, and of course, we never followed up, and the couch sat where it was. This morning, dear boy and friend showed up with a truck and (with what looked like) such ease, made their way through the obstacle course with couch. I stood idly by, helpless.

I know this sounds like a pertty minor thing, but I really am accustomed to doing most everything for myself, and don't like it when I can't.

I felt like such a girl. Not a bad thing. But makes you feel a little vulnerable, which explains why single women get into super independent woman mode.

I was humbled. I still hate asking for help and stuff though. You can't take that away from me.

Enough Said

2006-02-07T11:41:00.000-05:00

Went to FHE last night in an attempt to fulfill my calling.

Bishop took my hands in his (as he usually does)......

Tells me they are freezing......

And starts rubbing them.......

He then tells me that I am just stunning (he tells everyone this)......

And have great blonde hair (has a way of making you feel like a million bucks).....

And that I'm one of those SMART blondes (debatable).......

And just before he walked away.....

He looks deep into my eyes and says......

"You need a man".....

Enough said.

The Unthinkable

2006-02-02T14:24:00.000-05:00

I did it. And I realize it is an inexcusable act. But I'm going to give you excuses all the same.

Yesterday, I actually went online, and designed a wedding ring. Why? Not sure, except for these 2 very valid reasons: 1) I suddenly have a plethora of friends who are either engaged or almost engaged and so rings have become a popular topic of conversation and 2) because while talking about said rings with almost engaged friend, I described what I thought would be the ideal ring and she responded by leaning forward, bracing herself with both hands on the Cafe Rio table standing between us saying "Really? That sounds HID-E-OUS." Gotta love those brutally honest friends. So I really had no choice but to see what a pear shaped diamond (that I saw on a friends solitaire engagement ring that had been passed down from grandparents and loved) on a plain yellow gold band (because I have made that oh-so-difficult transition from silver to gold (which I swore I would never do no longer wear silver). I am a true product of the eighties. Out of curiosity, I have mentioned the idea to a couple friends,sisters, and they agreed that it would be hideous. I had to check it out, because it seemed so pretty in my minds eye. Turns out, they were all 100% correct. But the round cut and plain gold band, CLASS-EY. I promise.

Why the need to divulge this information? I suppose because I felt guilty. Like one of those marriage obsessed girls that have this picture perfect idea in their head and will settle for nothing less. Truth is, I'm in no hurry to marry the wrong person and can definitely wait. And when it comes down to it, I'll like, or learn to live with, whatever ring I may or may not get.

One would hope that the proposer would have the sense to at least get an idea of what I like and completely detest beforehand, but beggars can't be choosers.

Heh...I think I'm getting the black lung, Pop...

2006-02-01T12:24:00.000-05:00

The absolute worst part about being single.....drumroll pah-lease. Having noone there to take care of you while you are sick. To tell you that you're pushing yourself too hard, take a break, take the day off, get some sleep, take some vitamin C, drink this orange juice I freshly squeezed for you, or hot tea, or homemade chicken soup. Okay, in all reality, I can't remember anytime someone freshly squeezed orange juice for me while sick, let alone made homemade chicken soup. Still, my darling mother would tell me to take care of myself and show all kinds of sympathy and remind me when I needed to take care of myself. While I love that my little kitty is all tender and cuddly when I'm not feeling good, (I AM the crazy old cat lady ....in training) she is not physically nor intellectually capable of placing the back of her hand against my cheek and feeling my glands and ask if I've been drinking enough water/getting enough sleep/etc. It's a small thing, but something I long for all the same. Problem being that to this day I need someone to validate my need to take a sick day. I actually call my mom to run the idea past her if noone else has told me to take the day off even if it's pretty obvious that I should. So, here I sit, at my desk, feeling slightly miserable, but sucking it up. Especially since I haven't worked a full day this week due to other car/health/hair butchering issues. So I am drinking tea, orange juice, water, took my multivitamin, and thinking REALLY positive thoughts. Send me good vibes.

Eternal babbling of the oblivious mind

2006-01-26T11:26:00.000-05:00

Okay, so the excitement in my life lately has been reduced to stealing a pizza from FHE and stealing away with a couple friends to watch The Bachelor: Paris. What is so very sad about this is that I profess that I am against the evil that is reality TV and even more so reality dating TV, and yet, I get sucked in. Hypocrite! I know. Partially because I think it hilarious how catty these girls are. (I have watched portions of the Bachelorette and the guys seem way more laid back). And secondly, this Bachelor is HOT. And just to clarify, I am not one to use that word, generally, with the exception of when I wake up and look in the mirror and my crazy morning hair (what do I DO at night exactly?) and tell myself that I look hot. It happens way more than I would like to admit. So this guy is just insanely good looking, which makes the show nice to watch even though I have never been particularly drawn to the incredibly goodlooking. Something unnatural about the whole thing. But then he's just sweet, and down to earth and a camper (and an er doctor, which is all live saving and stuff) and you see that wide jaw and just melt. But no worries, I will never be able to actually be on the show, because I dress different than those girls, and had to deal with all that competition would just give up and go enjoy myself in Paris. Never been the competitive type. But does anyone think that true love can really blossom with the whole world watching? You may not be looking at the camera but I can see that you are way too aware that it is there.

So I had this meeting for my fabulous calling on Sunday and one of the co-chairs had us go around the table, introduce ourselves and state which one of the Disney animated characters we would like to hook up with. Charming. What surprised me is that I immediately knew my answer. A fusion of Hercules and Woody. What that would be? I know not. Why? Dunno. But apparently that's what I am looking for. Wish me all kinds of luck. (I'm thinking of going to Disneyland....anyone game?)

Oh, and the Argentine chef at the cafeteria at work asked me if someone had attended me (in spanish, not so weird sounding). I said yes, but I didn't know what I wanted. He responded with the following: Eh hem: "Nunca te vas a casar asi". Translate it. I dare you. Why must my life revolve around such things? I swear, others think more about my marital status than I do.

It's Alive!

2006-01-13T13:03:00.000-05:00

It being, this blog, and alive being barely. So in a vain attempt to resuscitate the dead which is this blog, I present you with the following quandary.....Plea for assistance.....Anything. And if comments are minimal, I'm giving up. Because that's what I do when things get too hard.

Yes, so this coming Sunday, I have the extreme pleasure of speaking in my lovely singles ward. And I'm excited. And nervous. See I hate speaking in front of people. Doesn't come naturally to me. But I am also a masochist and like making myself do things that I do not like doing (we need not delve into the issues that make up Sarah's psyche at this point, unless you really really really want to.) Really.

And the topic is......none other than living temple covenants in our daily lives. Which I think is phenomenal, but a little bit intimidating. Good thing I have a temple president of a Grandfather to counsel with. He's simply amazing. Hard topic seeing that it's not entirely appropriate speaking of specific temple things over the pulpit, let alone on this humble blog. But Gramps helped out a little with the following:

Dearest gran-pa-pa advised that it is all about obedience. That the more obedient and faithful to those commitments, promises, and covenants we have made with the Lord, that the more we will be blessed, guided, and protected. It is in humbling ourselves to do so that the spirit can more effectively work with us.

He also spoke of the sacred nature of such covenants. Grandpa takes several groups of people to tour ruins in Central and South America as he is somewhat of an authority on such things, and always visits temples that may be in the region of these excursions. Once with a group of people who were not LDS, he stopped at a temple in Mexico and spoke to the busload, explaining briefly the purpose of the temple and inviting the group to present any questions they may have regarding the church. As is want to happen, some asked more specific questions about the temple and why everyone cannot go inside. (I love his answer) My grandfather responded to the woman asking by saying "You're Catholic, correct?" she responded "Yes, why?" "Well, I can spot your Catholic Padre from 100 yards. Why? Because of the habit that he wears as a symbol of the commitment and promises he has made as a member of the clergy. In the temple, we are able to make very sacred and personal promises, and commitments with our Lord and Savior. They are very personal in nature and so it is not something we openly broadcast. Rather than exterior symbols, we use more interior symbols and reminders of what is personal between the Lord and ourselves." He said that the group seemed satisfied with the response and left understanding that the temples are not some secret combination, but a sacred house of the Lord. A concept that they could relate to on a new level. Grandpa is so wise.

In addition, my father and I spoke of how our covenants are decisions made before hand. Instead of waiting until the heat of temptation to decide what we may or may not do, we have already done so and have special promises and the spirit to support us in what might be a more difficult situation.

Anyhow, those are a few random thoughts, but I leave to you, my semi-devoted readers, to offer any further insight (without going to inappropriate measures, am I just asking for trouble here?) as to the importance, impact, and method of living these covenants in our daily lives.

Pain in the Rear-view Mirror

2005-12-16T16:14:00.000-05:00

I got married about six weeks ago. It's customary to ask newlyweds, "so, how's married life?" If I was feeling cheeky, I would answer, "no wonder they say you can't explain sex to a virgin!" But I haven't been feeling cheeky in the last six weeks. Mostly I just feel surprised at how easy the adjustment to being married has been. Amazement and happiness are very non-cheeky emotions, so mostly I just answer, "married life is great" and then I grin while the asker tells me how happy I look.

Yesterday was the six-month anniversary (month-iversary?) of our first date. And I have faced up to the fact that a cliche that sounded so lame six months ago is actually true. I don't remember what life was like before I met Dirk. *poof* Thirty-three years slips away from me like a dream. I remember being single, but in a detached way like trying to remember how hot it was last July during the cold snap that's going on now.

I remember I had a chip on my shoulder about being lonely, six months and two days ago. I could admit I was lonely to people I trusted, but by dang if any married person offered me sympathy, or suggested life would be better if I could get married, I would have bitten his/her head off. I was doing just fine thank-you-very-much and I didn't need a spouse to be happy thank-you-very-much and I was taking advantage of all the opportunities afforded single people thank-you-very-much and God loves his single children as much as he loves his married children thank-you-very-much.

And then I got married. So I don't have to keep my dignity intact about being single anymore. It hurt like an abscessed tooth to be single, and the pain was about that productive, too. I could sure look good for an audience, but I cried myself to sleep at night an awful lot, especially the past couple of years as my biological clock started resisting the snooze button.

I was a bit bemused to realize how Darwinian my misery was, but it was killing me not to pass on my genes. I wanted a Mini-me -- a little person who would have my eyes and whose mannerisms would make my mom laugh because "you used to be just like that!" and her parental curse had been granted; I'd gotten one just like me. I didn't care if it was conceited to want to perpetuate myself, and I should be content with mothering others' kids, I wanted a baby all my own.

Mission story: We were teaching a three-generation family. Grandma was in her late sixties; Daughter was in her mid-forties; and Granddaughter was about five. Grandma refused to progress towards baptism because she had done something so horrible that God could never forgive her. It took a couple of visits before she would confide in us what she had done. As Daughter had approached her forties and it became obvious she wasn't going to marry, Grandma had told her to go get pregnant so she could have someone to take care of her when she got old. Daughter did; hence the existence of Granddaughter.

The story has stuck in the front of my mind all these years because I remember thinking it wasn't such a terrible sin. Yeah, there's the law of chastity and all that, but having a baby was something very practical that just had to be done. There aren't social or governmental systems in place in my mission country to take care of the elderly. Having a child greatly increases your lifespan and quality of life because there's someone responsible for you when you get old, weak and creaky. That mother-daughter pair needed the next generation.

Selfish, isn't it? Here they've gone and deprived a child's spirit of the chance to be born into an intact family. Instead, she'll be raised to take care of her elderly mother and grandmother. She'll never have siblings or a father. But the number of broken households in that country was high, and so she wouldn't have had a good chance of being raised in an intact family anyway. At least she's in a family that needed and wanted her, even though her existence is tormenting her grandmother's soul.

American Mormons can take it on the chin for the law of chastity. If I don't have kids, I've got a dozen nieces and nephews (I've got a lot of siblings), MediCare, and the Adopt-A-Grandparent program to watch out for me. Mother and Grandmother had nothing. I couldn't make myself feel that they'd done something more than slightly wrong, but the Grandma was convinced she was going to hell for telling her daughter to have a baby out of wedlock. Grandma was so strict about having violated the law of chastity by proxy that she couldn't believe God would forgive her.

I don't tell the story to encourage anyone to break the law of chastity; I tell the story to illustrate how strong the drive is to pass on the genes, and how necessary kids are.

On that first date, six months and one day ago, Dirk got himself a second and third date with one comment. He had babysat three nephews and a niece (youngest was 9 months) for two weeks so his brother and sister-in-law could go on vacation, and he'd liked it. Holy cow. Good father material was sitting right across the table from me. I like him for himself now, and I'll be happily married to him even if we have fertility problems and no children. But the first inkling I had that I might want to consider marrying him was on that first date when Dirk let it slip that he could like having kids too.

I'd noticed in my dating life that coming across as baby-hungry was a bad thing. Perhaps it was the glazed looks I got when I started telling niece and nephew stories, or that I'd heard men I wasn't dating dismiss former dates as "baby-hungry" as if that was a turn-off. So I'd quit packing around pictures of my nieces and nephews, and I never mentioned them, other than the fact they existed and I liked them. So when a man started telling niece and nephew stories on the first date, I knew I'd found someone worth finding.

Kiss of Death

2005-11-01T16:59:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure what this post is about. More than anything, I think the subject line should be "Sarah is bored at work and although she should be madly typing information so she can leave in time to make her institute class she is looking for any excuse to not do the before mentioned task excluding that which would involve actual human interaction....Namely with her coworkers, who normally she adores, but she is on one today." Yeah I think that would pretty much sum it up. So Halloween.

A big fan of the holidays am I. And a very festive person as well. Yes. Festive is the word. I was trying to say something about people who get into holidays yesterday and called them patriotic, which obviously is inaccurate, unless of course it was July, then it might be appropriate. But festive. And it's not that I don't like Halloween, but we do have some issues to resolve. Namely, that I am the biggest scaredy cat of all time. Seriously. It takes very little to get me spooked. Like the pull down shades on my bedroom window that like to sponaneously open. I close them at night so that the world won't see through my thin curtains, and lately they have taken to springing open very loudly just as I am falling asleep. And while I know they did it all by their lonesome, I am also convinced that it is only a side effect of the scary creature looking very much like a dementor from the Harry Potter movies trying to open my window. Irrational, I know, but I never said I was rational.

So, my roommate and I decided to put forth the effort to be more social. Or at least to be present in situations where others are social. We stopped by the institute's Halloween party after seeing a movie on Saturday night and stayed a whole 10 minutes. While making our quick rounds and stepping inside a lively gym, I looked back at the door and this big black curtainy looking thing was blocking one side of the doors. I thought it merely decorative until this cloaked arm reaches toward me with a very un human hand. I ran. Like a girl. A little one. I started to tell my roommate the funny story how I ran and got scared and ha ha, until I looked behind me, and the thing....A Dementor, was inside the gym now and gliding...I swear...Towards me. It must of stood 9 feet tall, or at least it seemed to. I ran yet again, darting in and out of dancers to the opposite side with scary dementor from my nightmares gliding after me. I escaped out the other door and my heart was pounding. Pounding.

See what happens when I try to put myself out there? Dementors chase me. And for all you Dementors out there...If you want a date with me, here's a little tip. 1) Don't chase me because I will run away. Fast. 2) Lose the scary kiss of death attitude, and the cloak. I do like men taller than myself, so if those are lifts you are hiding under those black robes, sorry honey. Besides, you are very very scary.

You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water...Laurence J. Peter

2005-10-27T16:24:00.000-04:00

Honestly....what's with the staring? Perhaps my childhood was so engulfed by girls and girly ways that this is something that I just. can't. grasp. I am the first to admit that I don't understand men. I blame it on the fact that I have lots of sisters, no brothers, and was the biggest homebody ever growing up. My parents thought I didn't have any friends. Which isn't true. I just didn't care about going out on a Friday night. And so I wasn't all that active in my formative dating years. Looking back, I completely sabotaged opportunities to date. Not purposely. It was just my ignorance. What? You want to go get something to eat? And you want me to come? Why?

Anyhow. The staring. Not that I turn every guys head, but their is a sufficient amount of staring to warrant a pattern. I think I have mentioned this before. Over the years, I have learned that this can indicate possible interest, and so I *sigh* make eye contact, smile, etc, etc. And they continue to stare. Sometimes I will even approach them and introduce myself, have a decent getting to know you conversation, even flirt a tad. And then they go back to the staring and pretending that they have never spoken to me before. Is this just all in my head?

What's more is that the starer is more often than not much older than myself (which I kinda understand....creepy, but understandable) or married. Take today for instance. Some men came into my office to fix the over head speakers. One of them was young, attractive, and stared like crazy. I didn't mind so much seeing that I mentioned that he was attractive before. I didn't throw myself at him or anything. But smiled when we made eye contact. Took it as a compliment, etc. Went about my work, he continued his....with the speakers and the staring. And then I saw it. He turns to reach for something with his left hand, and there it is. Un mistakable. A wedding ring. This is a far too common occurrence.

Let me just tell you, I am fully sympathetic to the fact that guys do this. Some may even say it is their nature. And even when spoken for and committed to someone else, they are human and notice other women. But sometimes it is so incessant that I have to wonder.

And while I have always been vaguely aware of and frustrated by this all stare-no action behavior, I wasted not my time considering it. Until this past Sunday. A good friend accompanied me to my ward. And let me premise this by explaining that she is quite the looker. Just a plain attractive person. Slightly better figure than myself as well. I received quite the education walking a few steps behind her down the hall. EVERY guy had their eyes glued to her. I'm talking multiple 180's here. It was blatant. And everyone. I've never seen anything like it. To their credit, a few actually spoke actual words to us. Which was new to me.

So I have been painfully aware of this male tendency ever since, and have noticed a great phenomenon. Maybe I am behind the times, but it seems that all the staring seems to be pointed in the direction of the girls with overprocessed hair, layers of makeup.....the clothes, everything screaming high maintenance. Even from guys that openly profess that they either don't find that attractive or are not looking for that type of girl. And I'm no earthy, all natural girl either. My roommate would probably consider me high maintenance. I would say moderate....so these girls are the real deal. And the men stand and stare, some with gaping mouths, none of them blinking, a few of them drooling.

Color me perplexed.

Where have all the cowboys gone?

2005-10-13T16:39:00.000-04:00

I know, I know, it's pathetic that I have fallen to such a cliche-ey cheesy song to describe my angst. But it's how I feel at the moment, so run with me on this one.

While making a very concerted effort to be uber productive today, resulting in reading a bunch of random blogs, I recalled something that was said to me circa April 2004-ish. I was living in my hometown in the good old Nevadan desert and speaking to my bishop about my decision to move to Utah for a time. Now, my explanation for leaving had everything to do with education and independence and getting out of the rut that returning from a mission had thrown me into (and I fully embraced for that matter). Bishop's response was the following:

"You know Sarah, I remember my father telling me something when I was a young man.....
'Boy ( because that is what he called me) Boy, if you're going to shoot a deer, don't go to the desert, go to the mountains'."

"I'm glad your leaving the desert sister, because you'll find a lot more deer in those mountains."

Now, let's first address the issue that I wasn't moving to fill my dance card. And I wasn't some caging girl in date desperation either. Yes, I was a little frustrated with the 'menu' items where I was, but my motivation for moving had nothing to do with the 'game' to be had on the other side. In fact just the opposite. While I have progressed in recent years, the idea of dating anyone terrified me at the time.

Secondly, though I find the analogy slightly amusing, it saddens me to have the whole dating process reduced to a quest after......meat.

So back to the cowboys....yes, they may herd cattle, but I think that's as far as the involvement with livestock should go. All I want is a good old fashioned cowboy who does not like country music, can rough it and yet appreciate my quirky obsessions dealing with a wide range of intellectual stuff. Yes, stuff that is intellectual. And big words. Even if I do use them out of context. Big whoop.

And the mere suggestion that I want a cowboy who acts slightly older than 14 and has interests expanding past that of video games should have you feeling my forehead...and it must be hot, not because of my undeniable good looks that I may or may not possess (it's up for debate) but because I grew up in a hick town that succeeded in swearing me off of anything that slightly resembled a cowboy for the remainder of my life.

So today I was speaking to one of my patients ( I shouldn't say 'my' as my work is nothing clinical in nature, but they are after all patients) who had a baby 6 weeks ago. While I held her baby she questioned why I didn't have any of my own. I explained that there was something or someone that needed to come first and she started laying into me about how I can't just go for the "guapo" ones, because it's more important that they are good than guapo. Like I never hear this. And why does everyone think that this is my problem. #1 my dating 'pool' is very shallow and not very crowded. #2 Either it's there or it isn't. Yes, I can stick it out casually to see if something develops eventually, but I'm not going to pursue it if there is nothing there. Even if he is a Steston man.

Color me frustrated. And yes, I am fully aware that it just might be entirely my own fault.

Back by not so popular demand....

2005-10-06T16:30:00.000-04:00

So, it looks like we've had a little truancy problem here. Happens. Don't blame me. And do you expect me to maintain all by my lonesome? I have a life (sort of...Depends on weather or not my 9-5 work schedule and evenings centered around running and TV programs such as Lost would be considered a life). So really, I have nothing particularly intriguing to share, and hereby claim myself innocent of any boredom that is ensued by the following content of this post.

Okay. I work with a lot of Spanish speaking patients. That's all I'm saying. Because apparently there should some measure of discretion in regards to revealing information about your personal life. I don't fully understand this idea as I really have nothing to hide, but for the sake of assuming that I am a normal functioning adult in the real world.....I work with a lot of Spanish speaking patients. Pregnant ones. Okay. That's all I'm saying.

The other day, the 2 year old daughter of one of these Spanish speaking patients points to a picture on my office wall of my nieces and asks if they are my babies. (Okay imagine her as being incredibly cute and saying this all in Spanish...Makes it much more interesting.) I reply no, she continues:

cute little Hispanic girl: "Tienes bebes"....do you have babies?
me: "No"....no.
cute little hispanic girl: "Por que?"....why?
me: "Porque necessito esposo primero".....because I need a husband first.
cute little hispanic girl: "Por que"....why?
me: "Porque"....because.

Okay so maybe you had to be there.

So also at work, there is this cafeteria (that's all the information I'm disclosing, I swear.) And there is this Argentinean chef there. I happened to recognize his accent one day and talked to him about his homeland.....which has induced conversations like this:

Argentinean: "Que quieres hoy?".....what would you like today?
me: "Quiero el...salmon? y como se dice...carrots? Zanaorias?" .....salmon and carrots (in short)
Argentinean: "di lo asi...zan-a-or-ias.".....say it like this zan-a-or-ias.
me: "Zan-a-or-ias"
Argentinean: "Suena como...suena sexy".....sounds like...sexy.

So how exactly am I supposed to respond to that, (with others waiting in line behind me) besides turning unavoidably red and muttering "gracias" and running away.

My co-worker made the observation that "Tisk, the old guys always be flirtin with Sarah."

The thing is it's true. There's this stipulation that one must be 35+, possibly married, and usually a tad bit creepy in order to flirt with Sarah. The upside being that she occasionally gets free drinks at various seedy restaurant establishments...and nearly always at hole-in-the-wall Mexican ones. But that's the Spanish I be speaking to them. I guess one might say that I be workin' it. Is that a bad thing to take advantage of? C'mon. A girls got to get attention where she can find it.

*some incidents and commentary in the above post may be slightly exaggerated in the interest of....well....interest.

*the author of this post promises to post again with possibly more interesting material. But no promises will be made at this juncture.

It would be nice to think that since I was 14, times have changed. Relationships have become more sophisticated...

2005-08-30T12:30:00.000-04:00

...Females less cruel. Skins thicker. Insects more developed. -Rob Gordan, High Fidelity.

I have recently fallen victim to unjust flack in regards to my dealing with those of the opposite gender. So yeah. There's this guy. (This is all to be read in your most valley girl of accents, so don't disappoint.) And we've never really met. It's the whole he's in my sister's ward far far away where there are not many single LDS prospects and sister thinks of poor Single Sarah every time she sees him...so it's destined to be, right? Not so much.

We've written and even talked, and while I was copecetic to the idea at first, I have come to the realization that we are unbelievably incapatible. He seems to have much going for him, but is way too letter of the law for this gray areaed girl. I mean, he complained about his bishop recommending the PG-13 rated Saints and Soldiers. Bless his little heart. And seems determined to make something happen with me, from several thousand miles away. Not seeing it. ANYWAY. Boy will be in the area this weekend for major family things, wants to drive 2 hours out of his way to take me out. While I am flattered, despite the fact that he's never seen me in person, I don't want him to waste precious family time on lil uninterested me. Sounds fair no? Apparently not.

Why is it that I am getting scorn from all sides? Am I really as cruel as they say? Why is it that I should just "give him a chance"? I think that more cruel. I am all about sincerity, and try to avoid expressing more interest than I feel. Which is why I have way backed off on the emails, along with other correspondence. And today will let him know that he is better off dedicating this trip to the fam. I don't want to be one of THOSE GIRLS guys complain about but apparently I'm screwed either way. I either reject him before there is really anything to reject, or I go out on a date...which indicates the possibility of love, and then sit back and watch the ensuing disappointment/heartbreak. Which sounds more humane? What's the kosher protocol here? And why is it that the more I ignore him, the more persistent he gets?

I thought about just letting him know that I avoid PG-13's as well because I much prefer an R rating and wait while he slowly backs away humming I Am A Child of God with his index fingers formed in an X in the air shielding him from my apparent airborne evil.

Is it so terrible that I find his "righteousness" and extreme dedication to missionary work a turnoff? I require someone more balanced. And am apparently going to hell.

You're not gonna believe this

2005-08-17T16:34:00.000-04:00

Because I'm still slightly in shock myself. I've gone and gotten myself engaged (with the cooperation of a tall, dark and handsome man). I'm 33 years old and haven't had a boyfriend in 17 years (yeah, so my last sweetie was when I was 16). I've dated, but haven't had any emotional commitments. Then I run into this amazing man who not only wants to be my friend, sweetie, and fiance, he wants to be my husband. He fits me like a puzzle piece, and the whole world is brighter when he's around. That's all the gushing I'm going to do, honest.

Weird. Not him, just the situation. Okay, yeah, he's a bit weird too. For example, he isn't telling his mom about our engagement for nearly a week because he thinks it will be funny to see her try to kill him for holding out like that. I was on the phone to my mom within 45 minutes of the proposal.

We met online. How appropriate for a blogger. I was keeping the Mormon forum at nauvoo.com updated on my computer dating adventures when Dirk (my fiance) signed up at my same computer dating site and announced that he would love to meet someone as forward as I am. Well, I wasn't going to ignore a pickup line like that! So I bugged him until he asked me out. He was quite shy, and from his behavior on our first couple of dates, I would not have guessed he was interested in me. But he kept making comments on this blog about how awesome he thought I was. As I stated, I don't ignore lines like that. So we discovered that we mutually liked each other. The rest, as they say, is history.

You know what the strangest part is? I love him. I want him around. I want to plan a future with him. I'm willing to work out any issues or problems that come up. I don't want to be alone again. It's so strange to spend 33 years becoming independent, only to see it evaporate in a few months. Maybe I was never as independent as I thought I was.

Which brings us to the business part of this post. Ministering Angels could use another permablogger to replace me. I still have lots of thoughts about being single - that much life experience doesn't evaporate - but I've always been annoyed by married folk trying to talk to me about what it's like to be single so I won't inflict my opinions on you, although I'll definitely be around as a commenter. Send an email to ministeringangels at gmail dot com if you're interested.

To be student, or merely to be single.....

2005-08-16T13:26:00.000-04:00

That is the question. So I may be changing wards. This decision was made yesterday. In the bathroom. As my roommate and I prepared for work. We love our ward. Really, it's freaking fantastic. That's our problem. We attend a young single adult ward. Where the average single is 25+ and involved in their careers. There is no dealing with the meat market, because there aren't any guys in our ward. Okay a few, but nobody dates anyhow. It's comfortable. I go to church, feel enlightened. Never make a comment as is usually my nature because the ward is chuck full of highly educated people, and I get intimidated. I leave. Have a few friends. But that's it. And why I love the ward.

So we think that a student ward may force us to be a little more social (we have no friends). And we might not be lost in the sea of the other slightly older return sister missionaries with a little more experience up their sleeves.

I'm dreading it.

Any thoughts? Counsel? YSA wards verus University wards? Pros? Cons? GO!

"How well do you and roller skates get along?" and other amusing pick up lines

2005-08-16T12:34:00.000-04:00

Yes, I actually got that one. Two points for creativity at the very least. Got to admire a guy (or gal, but not so much in my case, I prefer the guys) who can ask you out or try to create a relationship out of nothing with a little imagination. At least if you crash and burn it makes for a great story. Other's I have received in the past:

"Your parents must have been terrorists because you are the bomb!" (Preceding an invitation to the most frequented strip club in Vegas. I had to decline on that one despite the invitation inducing silent giggles for several days.)

Or there was the cop. A friend of a friend. Friend called Cop regarding a question I had on a traffic citation that I forgot to take care of (long story) and would soon turn into a warrant for my arrest. (I have a dangerous side. Really.) Cop responded by asking friend if I was cute. Friend responded "Very" (kind friend) and Cop said "Well tell her that if she doesn't go out with me......I'll arrest her." Heh.

I really think these are great, but in my experience, the good ones always seem to come from the creepiest of creeps. For example, another friend actually dated Cop for sometime, and he ended up being the biggest of all losers. Not to mention a jerk. And a serious drunkard. So I have become somewhat wary of some invitations. If not all. Let's face it. Who asks me out anymore? If it actually happens, something fishy must be afoot.

That's sad. Don't let that be a deterrent to any of you creative brave souls out there. My sister's marriage is a product of such pick up lines. Her husband upon meeting her for the first time, "I'm going for broke, I'm madly in love with you." Quoting one of the best movies of all time.

At any rate, here comes the call for any and all pickup lines and invitations possibly romantic in nature that are somewhat interesting. (Note: "Do you want to hang out?" Does not count).

AND.....Let's get some feedback on these. Did any of them possibly end well if and when accepted, or are they doomed to be amusing but forever scary sentencing one to duck into the nearest alley if ever the asker were to cross paths with you again?

Singles' Blogcall

2005-08-14T00:34:00.000-04:00

I've been off on a lovely vacation for the last week, and in tonight's hurried blog checkup, I came across this post by a fellow Single Mormon Female. There are some great thoughts in the post and comments--and if you're looking for another Single's MoBlog to add to your sidebar, this is one of my favorites. Other singles' blogs I check obsessively areheathergirl and, of course, celibate.

Got any favorites of your own to share?

For time and all eternity, as fast as we can

2005-08-05T16:13:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I went to the temple sealing of a former roommate (Jane Doe). She met her husband (John Doe) online in May. They talked by phone a few times, then met in person. Ten days after meeting in person, he proposed. She accepted. Three and a half months after discovering his existence, she married him for time and all eternity.

This sort of story happens all the time - at BYU with kids under 23. These two don't fit the profile. Jane is 27, and is an RM with a masters' degree and a stable career. John is 30, also an RM with two college degrees, and plans to head to law school. Also, when Jane and I were roommates, we had more than one conversation about hormone-crazed RMs who married within weeks of meeting a cute girl. Jane and I agreed that quickie relationships like that were disasters waiting to happen (barring the occasional success story like a couple I knew who met and married within five weeks and were still happily married after 40 years). THEN SHE WENT AND DID IT!

I'm scratching my head and trying to figure out what happened to her. Any ideas?

DC Follow Up: Nausea-Inducing Email

2005-08-04T20:15:00.000-04:00

This email was sent to a ward listserv in D.C. in response to the newspaper story about the D.C. LDS singles ward which we discussed here.

It's worth reading the whole email, but only if you have low blood pressure.

Sitting down? Here goes:

i thought this article TOTALLY SUCKED, and futhermore, it just instills the ideas that may or may nor pre-exist in people's minds in the lds and non-lds culture. it's messed up and stupid, get over the stereotypes and move ON already! if you're not freakin married by 33 then IT'S YOUR FAULT, PERIOD. If you didn't make eternal marriage your focus -oh well, you suffer, too bad.. blah blah... don't go swearing and winning that you are not married because nearly EVERY ONE ON EARTH COULD BE MARRIED IF THEY REALLY REALLY PURSUED IT AND CARED AND PUT FORTH A STRONG EFFORT! too many people in the NOVA and DC area focus too much on their stupid careers and collegiate accomplishments....

what did Richard G. Scott come to talk about about a year or so ago (SPECIFICALLY TARGETTED TO THE DC SINGLES)?.. Eternal Marriage needs to be your #1 focus after your mission (for the fella's) and your #1 focus alongside college (for the ladies).. ---if you heed that counsel there is no way you'll be 30 and over and not married (except for a rare few people who had huge remarkable things that excuse them from that -such as serving your country)! most ladies who are 33 and not married are doing 2 things wrong.. 1) they are completely focusing on everything BUT finding a guy, asking guys out, flirting, looking good for the fellas, whatever it takes to get a chicken boy to notice them and ask 'em out AND/OR 2) they are fat or overweight because they don't make an effort to exercise. shoot i could be 33, not married and fat VERY EASILY, but i KNOW i have to get off my butt, and when i'm not in the office or in a class, or at church activities, go running, be active, do some freakin sit-ups, keep myself healthy, NOT GIVE INTO the "cookies, cookies, brownies, browines, and oreo's oreo's, oh and ice cream ice cream" at EVERY SINGLE FLIPPLIN LDS EVENT! just say no. it'll become a habit and as you eat more healthy, cookies won't be appealing anymore... get over your bad habits, control
them, MAKE yourself pretty for men ... heck, i would rather have a guy who's fit and takes care of himself and has a testimony, then some guy who is supposedly keeping 'all' the commandments, but some how forgets the word of wisdom and is weighing in at 335. C'MON FOLKS... get real! nobody wants to marry someone who they are not physcially attracted to... (perhaps some will, but not many) .. - if you are not attractive, old, and not married CHANGE YOUR PHYSICAL APPEARANCE to become as beautiful as your INSIDE APPEARANCE... PERIOD! If my bishop of my single's ward can run in his first marathon in his 40's then there is NO EXCUSE for anyone else to not be physically active.

THERE YA GO! i'm done. that article sucked, just like the movie "single's ward" which portrays things that needa be fixed as being "cool, normal, and okay" being 33 and not married isn't even normal as a non-LDS person... i am a recruiter for my job and make calls ALL AROUND THE COUNTRY all the time and TONS of men and women around 21-26 are married (some even have kids) -and, yeah, THEY ARE NOT LDS. it is NOT so abnormal to be 22 and happily married w/ kids as mormon culture potrays it to be -in the world outside of mormon culture. -and, mormons out of ALL PEOPLE have AMPLE opportunities to find equal companions on the same page w/ the same goals to be happily married too. ROCK ON TO ALL YOU YOUNG MARRIED COUPLES, AND PROPS TO EVERYONE IN THEIR MID-LATE TWENTIES WHO ARE GETTING HAPPILY HITCHED IN THEIR MATURE PRIME.

anyways... i hope somebody woke up and got a clue from this.. no more wining from people over 30 -there is no excuse (no offense).

-M.H.

Amazing, huh? I didn't really know people thought this silliness.

Wedding Receptions and Timbuktu: Run, Singles, Run!

2005-08-04T07:34:00.000-04:00

I am a Slate addict. Just can't get enough.

This week, the agoraphobic middle-aged Cynthia Barnes is exploring Mali: you know, land of Timbuktu, camel treks through the Sahara, and one of the poorest populations in the world. On attending a wedding in this mostly-Muslim country, she writes:

"There have been a couple of times when I've endured the hell that is a nonalcoholic wedding reception, and they were colorless and constipated affairs."

Ha! I haven't made it to Mali yet, but I have managed to endure dozens of nonalchoholic wedding receptions. If you're a typical Mormon, and went through millions of roommates at BYU, you probably have too. Although "constipated" may be true, I find "colorless" rarely is.

One of the most exciting parts of a Mormon wedding is, of course, being single and fending off inquiries about marital status from strangers and family alike. "So, when will it be your turn?" "Why isn't it you getting married?" and "I have the greatest nephew/old roommate/neighbor's sister's best friend's brother: can't I set you two up?" (Actually, I like this last one. Call me a masochist, but I think blind dates are great.)

Some people ask this question because they really care and don't know how else to express it. Some people ask this question because they don't really care and they're being lazy. Some people ask this question because they're socially inept. What do you say to them?

I mean, what do you, specifically, say to them? I'm not terribly smooth, and so I usually try for a self-deprecating, "Well, the boys just don't want me." People who know me well play it off as a joke, and it embarasses the people too lazy to think of any cliche-free conversation starters. (The socially inept keep forging ahead. "Oh, honey, you're not that bad! I had a friend twenty times uglier/smellier/stupider than you, and she still managed to get married." At this point I find it best to shove my mouth full of after-dinner mints to stop myself from yelling an ancient Bedouin warcry, leaping the table, and throttling the dipstick. By the time I'm done chewing, they've usually moved on to speculating about other guests' marital hangups. Or they offer to set me up with their neighbor's sister's best friend's brother, at which point I swallow my pride and my mints, and graciously accept.)

I have a friend who has started answering the wedding questions with, "I'm lesbian." Another friend starts sobbing wildly about ex-boyfriends. A third friend goes to funerals, tracks down the elderly relatives who ambushed her at weddings, and says, "So when's it going to be your turn?"

OK, I made that last one up. But I think it would be pretty funny.

What are your real (or made-up) responses to the wedding questions?

And next time you go to a Mormon wedding reception, just think of it as expanding your cultural boundaries. Imagine yourself in Timbuktu.

DC Singles! Is This You?

2005-08-02T09:47:00.000-04:00

I am late to work again but I wanted to post this story, published over the weekend in a freebie D.C. paper. It's all about single Mormons in D.C., and how they cope in a church that focuses so much on being married. Apparently the reporters went out of their way to take quotes out of context and make people sound much angrier than they were, but I suppose that's only normal.

Anyway. Thought you might be interested.

Single? Don't tell your coworkers!

2005-07-25T08:24:00.000-04:00

Fox news has an article today about a single 31-year-old in Utah whose co-workers decided it was time he got married--so they put up a billboard soliciting dates. The billboard, pictures of the victim, and his secretly-videotaped reaction can all be seen at www.datelance.com.

Poor Lance ("Utah's most eligible bachelor") is clearly Mormon. He's a returned missionary, "a menace to society," and when he sees the billboard for the first time, his reaction is a Napoleon Dynamitish "Oh my gosh!"

I think my reaction would have been a little stronger. Like a punch in the nose to my interfering coworkers.

Could this happen anywhere but in Utah?

What would you do to your friends if they pulled something like this?

And how did they get Lance to pose for all those dorky pictures?

Why Single Can Equal Fantastic

2005-07-21T22:07:00.000-04:00

Clearly, Anonymous and I are on the same page, because I couldn't wait to get home from work today to start a post about the perks of singledom.

Anon spent a week in Paris on a last-minute whim. There were no babysitters to enlist, no spousal work schedules to coordinate, no feelings of guilt to haunt her. (Or him. Or it.)

Today I feel like glorying in my singleness because I'm also going on a spontaneous, marvelous trip. Ok, so the Delaware beach isn't quite on par with Paris, but being able to just pick up and go is really cool.

Other things I love about being single:

Staying up late reading, without anyone knowing how irresponsible I am.
Having a clean room when I feel like it; having a cluttered room when I feel like it.
Not feeling responsible for anyone else's happiness.
Having sole control of my budget.
Indulging in guilt-free spontaneity, like yesterday's splurge on two gorgeous pair of shoes.

The main theme seems to be that being single allows me to be very very selfish when I feel like it. Of course, there are times when I ache for the responsibility of caring for children and husband. There are times when being carefree and ever-flexible is stifling.

But today, I am thrilled to be getting ready for the beach.

Your turn! What do you love about being single? Or miss about being single?

Let the gloating begin.

So, What's New?

2005-07-19T20:12:00.000-04:00

I was catching up with people recently, and I noticed that we all seemed to have the same conversation:

Them: "So, what's new?"
Me: "The job's great, I love where I live, and I'm involved in some fun hobbies."
Them: [Waits silently]
Me: "I've been promoted twice, I'm buying a house, and I ran three marathons last week."
Them: [Waits silently]
Me: "I visited Mars yesterday, I've running for Congress, and I recently found the cure for cancer."
Them: [Waits silently]
Me: "OK, fine. You win. No, I'm not dating anybody!"
Them: "Oh, isn't that too bad."

Friends, family--it's all the same. They listen politely to my updates, but what they're really waiting to hear about is my love life.

I'm guilty of this, too. In fact, "so, what's new?" in my conversations with single friends often seems to be code for "any new dating prospects?" or "how's that relationship going?"

Of course I want to know what my cousins, old roommates, and visiting teachers are up to. But when did dating become the only category of news that matters? When did it trump all other aspects of life? When did whole existences get reduced to the stark binary of dating or not dating?

I'm worried about this because I'm scared of internalizing the message that the rest of my life (you know: career, friends, interests, church) is just detritus orbiting around the central, massive fact of my singleness. If I buy into that cosmology and remain single, then I will be hollow and bitter; if I buy into that cosmology and get married, then I will be just as empty and without sense of self. Neither option is really appealing to me. I'd rather be pursuing things I love, developing character, and connecting with people, no matter my dating or marital status.

By making dating the unspoken focus of all catching-up chit-chat, we reinforce other cultural messages shouting that singleness looms larger than all other areas of life. It's also a lazy way to interact with people.

Yes, dating is a big part of the single life. But it's not the only part. And thank goodness for that! I can't control much of my dating life, but I can sure control other areas of my life. So, sometimes, ask me about the places I'm travelling to, ask me about my hardest projects at work, ask me about my beautiful car. Let the dating question fade from the foreground, and look at me.

I'll try and return the favor.

Unpacking the baggage of the past

2005-07-16T00:50:00.000-04:00

There weren't really any red flags until I met him in person. We'd met on an Internet site. I'll go out with just about anyone once, so I gave him my phone number and told him to call. He did. And he talked. Wow, did he talk. I don't think he drew a breath in over an hour. But far be it from me to hold chattiness against a person. I can talk the ears off a person myself. So we set up a first date.

Then the red flags went up. I already knew he was divorced and had several children that lived in a different state with their mom. That's all I wanted to know for a first date. But I got the whole story of how they met, their marriage, the divorce, and a summary of the high points of the divorce decree. That ended any chance for a second date.

See, the first date is all about me. Really. In a first date, I'm making a whole bunch of decisions and judgments, and one of the biggest is if he's emotionally available for a relationship. Someone who has to describe his past relationship in detail to a comparative stranger is still too emotionally connected to that relationship to be thinking about me. Or if he is thinking about me, he's comparing me to her, which is even worse than not thinking about me at all.

Too much information about a past failed relationship makes the first date more like a therapy session than a date. If you're still that emotionally tied to the break-up, you're on the rebound and you shouldn't be dating.

Of course I want to know about his romantic past eventually, but not until I've decided I care about him enough to want to know his history. The past isn't important unless there's a chance for a future.

But that's just me, and I freely admit to being self-centered. What do you think? When do you want to hear the details that answer the question "why is a nice person like you not married?" Because we've all got a story, whether we tell it or not.

My week pretending to be "Mom"

2005-07-15T20:43:00.000-04:00

Ew, just a second. The baby just spewed.

Okay, baby wiped up, toy rinsed off, spit-up sponged off my shorts, and carpet vigorously scrubbed with a burp cloth. I'm typing this with my 6-month-old niece on my lap, and my 3-year-old nephew asleep on the couch behind me. Baby has a fascination with whapping the keyboard with the toys I'm using to try and distract. Given her preference, she'd probably suck on the keyboard. My 7-year-old niece disappeared on her bike about an hour ago, last seen with a neighbor kid. I'm assuming she's fine, but I ought to go track her down in a minute, just to check.

I've been watching the munchkins every day this week while Mom and Dad work. Typically, dad is home with the kids and mom works full-time. This week, dad is out of town on a job, and mom can't get time off. I've tended them a lot, so this hasn't been entirely new. However, the constancy of it is new. Do you have any idea how much patience it takes to take care of kids all day every day? It's a whole different thing than just watching them for the evening - where you act as a jungle gym until you can put them to bed and then read until the folks get home. Nope, this has required a routine, discipline, and an attitude adjustment. The attitude adjustment is realizing that these kids are the reason I'm here; they're not just a distraction keeping me from reading my book or the Internet. Therefore, I can't think of them as an intrusion. Important paradigm shift.

I have discovered that 3-yr-olds actually go slower when encouraged to hurry up. It is best to give them instructions, then wait for them to process it and do it at their own speed. I think I understand more what God was thinking when he said that he "watched those things which [he] had ordered until they obeyed." Abraham 4:18. God did not tell them to hurry up. And really, does it matter if it takes 45 minutes to eat half a bowl of dry cereal and drink an inch of milk? I mean, that just means starting the get-dressed-stress that much earlier, so why rush things?

Hearing a scream of pain from the little boy who just took a headfirst dive down the cement steps into the garage is a good sound - because it means he didn't knock himself unconscious. Fortunately, popsicles can cure even a bump on the head. He prefers grape.

I have discovered that babies are amazingly cute in the morning, even if you would rather be sleeping. Nope, you just can't resent a happy giggly baby who falls over onto your face because you tried to sit her up next to you in bed with some toys while you caught a few extra winks. She has a round bottom, and not much experience with balance, so she tips over fairly often. She can also projectile vomit strained carrots clear over the edge of her high chair. It's too bad she's a Mormon; she could probably do amazing things with chewing tobacco, given the chance.

And even if the 7-year-old wakes up the baby from her nap after you told her repeatedly to be quiet, it's impossible to stay mad at her after she apologizes that she just made this "the worst day ever." Really, it wasn't that bad.

I think the most startling realization of the week was that taking care of kids isn't boring. Babysitting is boring because you're just biding time until the parents come home. But actually contributing to raising a child (enforcing the rules, supervising summer homework, quizzing the toddler on whether the ball is blue or red, planning lunch) isn't boring at all - it can be frustrating, rewarding, and just downright cute, but it just isn't boring.

Book Review: "Reading the Women of the Bible," by Tikva Frymer-Kensky

2005-07-12T12:07:00.000-04:00

When Tamar dresses up as a prostitute to seduce her father-in-law, Judah (Genesis 38), she was striking out to save herself from a polite prison. Tamar's story had always faintly repulsed me, until the author explained her motives. Tamar had married Judah's oldest son. When her husband died, Tamar was given to the second son so that he could father a child to carry on his brother's line. After God struck the second son dead, Judah sent Tamar away. Eventually, Tamar realized that Judah's failure to provide a husband for her, or to completely release her from his family, would leave her dependent and alone for the rest of her life. Tamar could not force Judah to act, so she acted in the only way she could, by trickery, to secure her own future by producing an heir (p. 264 et seq).

Tikva Frymer-Kensky, a Jewish professor of the Hebrew Bible at the Divinity School at the University of Chicago, introduces the reader to the women of the Old Testament, explaining the culture and customs that defined the existence of these women.

The introduction to the book caught me, because it immediately called to mind the way Mormon women interact with authority in our own patriarchal society. About Hebrew society, Frymer-Kensky states:

The role of women is clearly subordinate, but the Hebrew Bible does not "explain" or justify this subordination by portraying women as different or inferior. The stories do not reflect any differences in goals and desires between men and women. Nor do they point out any strategies or methods used by women that are different from those used by men who are not in positions of authority. There are no personality traits or psychological characteristics that are unique to women, and the familiar Western notions of "feminine wiles," "the battle between the sexes," "sisterly solidarity," and "sex as weapon" are all absent, as are any discussions of the nature of women. There are also no negative statements and stereotypes about women, no gynophobic ("woman-fearing") discourse. . . .
The Bible's lack of ideas about female otherness does not make it a feminist paradise any more than the presence of memorable women does. Women were still socially disadvantaged and excluded from public power. But the Bible does not add insult to this disadvantage, does not claim that women need to be controlled because they are wild, or need to be led because they are foolish, or need to be directed because they are passive, or any of the other justifications for male domination that have been prevalent in Western culture." Introduction xv-xvi.

Interesting, isn't it? Women are subordinate, but there is no attempt to justify their subordinate position. It's simply the way things are. This is quite different from the questioning and theorizing that goes on in the Bloggernacle about the respective roles of men and women. Anyone who has tried to figure out why women are subordinate to male authority in the Mormon Church quickly discovers that the explanation is a tangled mess, and eventually falls back on faith and a claim that God hasn't changed it, so it must be right.

So what happens if we look at a society full of subordinate, yet not inferior women, without trying to justify and explain the subordination of women and the power of men? One aspect of Biblical society became clear immediately. The men, who have the authority, have a duty to protect the women, who are vulnerable. Indeed, the Bible uses stories about injustices against women to measure the civilization level in the Bible, for a civilization that cannot protect the vulnerable is not civilized at all. Against that backdrop, the story of the violent death of the concubine in Judges 19 becomes a harsh condemnation of Israelite society, illustrating the need for a king to restore social order and justice. (One realization necessary to understanding the Bible is that God does not approve all of the behavior portrayed therein.)

Another factor in a patriarchal society is that when women are officially silenced, they resort to other means to achieve results. So when Rebekah tricks her blind, elderly husband into bestowing the birthright blessing on Jacob instead of Esau, she has cleverly found a way to reach the right result. Today we are uncomfortable with her actions because we are not accustomed to a society in which a wife and husband would have a communications failure of such magnitude. But Rebekah was doing what she thought she had to do, and God blessed the outcome, without condemning or endorsing Rebekah's methods.

Fortunately, Mormon women do not have to work 'behind the scenes' to such an extent, but women's voices are absent from much official discourse and policymaking. To the extent women's voices are being officially heard in the Church, it is because the men have been persuaded that there is no reason to silence us, and have seen that our input is valuable. Thus, female influence in Mormon society is due to a softening of the patriarchy (which has plenty of room for women), obviating the need for trickery or manipulation.

I very much appreciated the de-sexualization of many of the Biblical stories involving women. According to Frymer-Kensky, after the Jews were conquered by the Greeks, the ensuing Hellenization of Israelite society contributed to the sexualizing of many Biblical stories. However, the text does not bear out these erotic assumptions. For example, Delilah simply asks Sampson the secret of his great strength, rather than seducing him (pp. 77-84). And the great sin at Ba'al-Pe'or was not sexual transgression with foreign women, but eating meat that had been sacrificed to idols (pp. 215-224) (Numbers 25). Sexual overtones have soaked out of our saturated society and into so many stories; it was a relief to hear someone say, "this story has nothing to do with sex."

Frymer-Tensky's reasoning does not read freedoms or power into the text that are not there. She does not argue that women had any more power or influence than the text will support. Given the society she was studying, and her realistic assessment of women's vulnerability, I found it surprising that she appeared to think sexual freedom for women was a positive. She puzzles about why a society would prize virginity in unmarried women (pp. 183-185). Outside of chastity being a commandment, one reason came immediately to my mind. Placing value on virginity compelled the men to protect an unmarried woman from sexual exploitation. In such a male-dominated society, the protection of men would be the only protection available. Given the young age at which girls were married, sexual freedom was simply not an advantage from the girl's point of view. Instead, if no value were placed on virginity, men would be free to sexually exploit any woman. Valuing virginity and fidelity protected women from seduction and rape. A woman's sexual freedom is only an advantage in a society advanced enough to recognize the woman's right to say no.

And Julie M. Smith at Times and Seasons will enjoy the author's explanation that the Shunamite woman who befriends Elisha is quite possibly a daughter of Zelophehad (see pp. 64-73).

I highly recommend this book. I do wish the author had included analyses of the stories of Eve, Miriam and Esther. The exclusion of Eve and Miriam was deliberate. The author explained that Eve and Miriam are so powerful that their stories overshadow the stories of other women, and so she left them out. I wish she hadn't. But there is enough here that any complaints about exclusions sound whiney, so I won't complain.

"Reading the Women of the Bible: A New Interpretation of Their Stories," by Tikva Frymer-Kensky, (Schocken Books 2002).

Grieving for Ghosts

2005-07-07T14:36:00.000-04:00

When mom was pregnant with my older brother, she thought he was going to be a girl. They decided to name 'her' Diana. He surprised them by being a boy. When mom was pregnant with me, she thought I would be a boy. They decided to name me Matthew. I surprised them by being a girl.

My older brother grew up and married a woman named Diana. I thought that was a neat coincidence. So I borrowed the idea and named my future husband "Matthew". It seemed more personal than calling him "Mr. Right" all the time. I didn't spend much time wondering what Matthew looked like, but I had a pretty good idea what his personality would be like.

I had imaginary friends as a kid. Matthew wasn't an imaginary friend. He was more of a promise. I tucked him away in the back of my mind, and occasionally took him out as a treat. "When Matthew and I get together, he can humor me by taking ballroom dance lessons, and I'll go cheer for him when he enters the demolition derby." "I wish I could talk to Matthew about how much to invest in our 401(k)." "Won't it be nice when Matthew is around to change the furnace filter so I don't have to do it?"

One day, I realized that Matthew wasn't coming. Or, if he did come, it would be an entirely different Matthew from the one I had gotten to know. He would be older, probably divorced, most likely a father to children by another woman. He won't belong exclusively to me because he would already have belonged to someone else. The relationship I had promised myself had disappeared a little each year, and was now gone entirely.

The realization set off a misty grieving process. 'Misty' because there was really nothing to grieve. I hadn't lost anything; at least nothing that anyone else could see. Just daydreams, and memories of daydreams that turned out to be self-delusion, not a promise.

But it did feel like grief. The emotions of a loss were all there - denial, anger, feeling betrayed. But there was no focal point for those feelings. Should I direct them at God? myself? the Church? Matthew? society? all the men who didn't marry me? Grieving is frustrating when you aren't sure what to grieve.

Misty grieving is a solitary process. Trying to talk about my phantom loss brings admonitions against wallowing in self-pity. Yes, there is some self-pity, but there is also honest grief at losing something I had cherished for my entire adult life. Granted, no one else had known of Matthew's existence, but he had been important to me.

Even admitting that I felt a loss when I confronted the possibility of being single was a taboo subject. "You can't lose faith," kind people admonished, "I knew somebody who was [insert age], and she married a wonderful man!" But the Matthew I knew from my twenties isn't coming, no matter how much faith I have.

So, with or without permission, I'm grieving the death of a hope and expectation. I understand that the final stages of grief are acceptance and peace. I am eager to get there. I hope it is sooner rather than later, because this is an uncomfortable process.

But I think I will always miss Matthew.

I quit! I'm so happy!

2005-06-30T23:03:00.000-04:00

I spent the afternoon going to different offices and bidding various attorneys a fond farewell. This is my third attempt to quit my job, and this time it's actually going to stick.

I made a terrible mistake when I decided to go to law school. Not that I think law school is a mistake in general, but for me it was a mistake. See, I never really wanted to practice law. I was bright enough to go to law school, so I wanted to go so I could say I went. Then I would get married, have kids, never practice law, and people would talk about how noble I was to give up a promising career to care for a family. I was so self-sacrificing that Reader's Digest should have done an article on me in their "Heroes for Today" section. (eyes roll here)

Then life called my bluff. I finished law school, and through a miraculous series of coincidences landed a job at one of the best law firms in town. After about three or four years of billing hours, I looked around my law firm (which is awesome), at the people I worked with (who are ethical lawyers and topnotch people), at the projects on my desk (which were quite interesting), and thought, "I can't do this for the next thirty years." It took me another year and a half to adjust to the idea of changing careers. Lo, and it came to pass that I adjusted to the idea, yea verily, even I did embrace the idea.

Now I'm going to go get a teaching certificate and teach high school English. My advice to you all - don't get a degree for a job you don't want.

In hindsight, I can clearly see the signs that portended my doom as a lawyer. Here are a few:

1. When the firm decided to get polo shirts with the firm logo, everyone, including the kids in the copy room, ordered conservative colors like hunter green, oatmeal, and navy blue. I ordered bright mango.

2. When I heard lawyers brag about billing twenty hours in one day, I did not feel envy. Instead, I felt an urge to introduce them to the 12-Step Program for Workaholics.

3. In the six years I practiced law, I kept my vow to never use the word "indicated".

4. I can't find the courthouse.

5. I was embarrassed by my grossly bloated salary and was even more uncomfortable at getting a raise.

6. When a senior partner encouraged me to do client development by inviting clients to Jazz games, I told him there was no way I was asking a middle-aged married man to a basketball game where I would have to ask him what color our team's jerseys were.

7. I feel entitled to paid vacations.

8. Nate Oman's posts at Times and Seasons go over my head.

9. When potential clients call and ask if I can find slippery tax loopholes for them, I give them a lecture about how they ought to pony up and pay the tax, because it's worth something to be an American and I don't feel one bit bad if that privilege hits them in the wallet once in a while.

10. It weirds me out when people follow my advice.

You're So Vain: Chapter 2

2005-06-29T11:17:00.000-04:00

So I started commenting on the original post and was typing way too much (as usual) and figured it might warrant it's own thread.

Comments were made to the respect that there are tons of opportunities to go outside of ourselves and our own lives. I agree, but where's the time to do it? It's not that I won't try, and might actually do these things, but I seriously struggle in the time department. Granted I could give up the pathetic addiction my roommate and I share for the WB's Summerland (my head is hanging in shame, and if Johnny and Eva would just get back together I could find closure and move on). Does anyone else have this problem? I beat myself up because I missed the temple one week, and then for missing my friends bridal shower the next so I can actually go to the temple. And as for my Monday night date with the tv? I'm either there or drag myself to FHE. (And besides, the temple is closed that night, I am totally justified). I try to fulfill my calling, visit teach, work at the bakery in support of my roommate's calling, attend the mid week activity, babysit my nieces so their parents can go out, scrub the mildew off my poorly ventilated bathroom's ceiling with bleach, make several trips to Home Depot for my various home improvement projects and do them, keep up with the dishes, laundry, pay the bills, buy groceries, go to traffic school, attend the temple, read scriptures, work out for an hour a day, get together a mess of transcripts to actually apply for school and finish in my new major, oh and then there's work, but that only takes up 8, 9 hours a day. Tops. And that's this week.

So, my theory is the following:
Singles sometimes have less time due to the fact that they are expected to have all the time in the world and no one with whom to split responsibilities and stresses. I don't pretend that having a family to support is easy simply because there are two, but there is a division of duties. I for one try so hard to do everything I am supposed to do that I neglect things such as advancing my education, and having this social life that everyone seems to think is so dang important. Still, I don't want anyone going to Home Depot without me. It's fun, and *confessional* there are attractive members of the male gender. Honest to goodness. See, I'm social.

Elder Wirthlin spoke a while ago of instead of adding new things constantly, to take away the unnecessary aspects of our lives in order to focus on the more important. We think that as Latter Day Saints we have to do everything (at least I do) and such is not the case. I suppose it would do me good to clean house so to speak. Does anyone else suffer from this plight?

Are Singles' Wards Worth It?

2005-06-28T22:00:00.000-04:00

This Sunday as I was sitting in my gargantuan YSA ward, I started to feel. . . cloyed. The dating arsenal was being brandished with a vengeance; the covert reconnaissance operations and carefully orchestrated strategic maneouvers made me claustrophobic.

There is so much display! display! display! in a singles' ward. This display includes wearing the right outfit (trendy and sexy, but still mostly pure), sitting next to the right people (seats in Sunday School matter the most), and--if you're fast enough to beat the herd to the pulpit on a Fast Sunday--saying the right things in your testimony (making a joke, acknowledging a minor fault and summing up with cheerful platitudes). In fact, the whole mess sometimes feels like a zoo. The animals are out a-courtin', wearing their best plumage and calling their best mating calls, and the pheremone stink is horrendous.

You know what else makes it zoo-like? All the YSAs are corralled away from LDS families, kept in a carefully controlled environment until they get married and are ready to be released into the wild. The zookeepers are kind, of course, and you can always leave whenever you want--but there won't be anyone like you outside, and you'll get a lot of stares.

Singles' wards have definite advantages. Obviously the biggest is social. There are activities with other single LDS folk ad infinitum, and, the bishop hopes, lots of intra-ward dating. Another advantage is that the sacrament is passed in absolute silence. Also, Relief Society lessons aren't always about diapers and curfews.

Still, YSA wards have some serious drawbacks. One is that many singles end up feeling isolated and broken, fundamentally lesser than the rest of church members. This is part of what makes the transition to family wards so difficult after turning 30. Family wards aren't used to incorporating single members, so they often end up being patronized or ignored.

Another drawback is that YSA wards generally tend to have many extremely talented and energetic members, and have vastly fewer needs to fill than family wards. So you end up creating fake callings (like the "Social Commitee" of my ward) and staffing them with exceptional people, just to make sure everyone has a calling. In the rest of the stake's wards, though, these social commitee members could be making desperately-needed contributions. In YSA wards, they just twiddle their thumbs.

Another benefit to disbanding YSA wards is that singles would finally have an easy way to develop relationships with marrieds. The current gulf between a 26-year-old who is married and a 26-year-old who is not is very deep in the church. There could be more mutual support, discussion, and even friendship between these two groups. That could go a long way to counteract the tendency to reduce identity to "married" and "single."

Church leaders often go out of their way to break up ward homogeneity. Boundaries are frequently redrawn to include greater economic variety, for example. So why are young singles the only church members given their own entirely separate organizations? (Langage groups are the exception, but that division seems to be a matter of practicality.) Of course, there is the hope that if we're all thrown together for a decade or so, most of us will get married. This works for many people. But if all singles were incorporated into family wards, you would still have singles finding each other--through stake and regional activities, as well as informal networking--and socializing. You might even have more socializing; a standard dating practice is to avoid members of your own ward ("Don't Dirty the Water Hole"). Alternatively, it could be argued that having 15-20 singles per family ward instead of 200 in a YSA ward would increase meaningful interaction between the single men and women and lead to more, and better-suited, relationships.

If YSA wards were disbanded, singles would benefit from increased opportunities to serve, interaction with families, and feeling like fully participating and fully enfranchised members of the church. As it is, we sometimes feel like teenagers kept in a holding pen until we either pass the marriage test or are declared with "Defective -- Over Thirty" and thrown out of the zoo anyway.

So, what's your take on this? Would you like to see church policy move towards treating young singles like their married counterparts? How would this hurt or benefit family wards, or singles themselves? Does anyone know how or when or why singles' wards developed in the first place?

While you think those things through, I'll be planning my outfit for next Sunday. After all, it's never too early to prune that plumage.

You're So Vain: You probably think this blog is about you

2005-06-28T11:40:00.000-04:00

Don't you? Come on now. Don't deny it. We all have a little vanity in there somewhere. Some of us spend a fourth of the day looking in the mirror, other's relish in knowing more than others and writing oh-so-profound comments on several blogs addressing countless issues everyday. You know who you are. And I enjoy your comments. As for myself, is it really that bad that I enjoy seeing my name at the top of this post? A sense of pride wells up inside, and while it's not quite my name in lights and the post, let's face it, is really not all that good, I get my jollies seeing how many comments I can get in response. *Hint hint* Feed my ego Seymour.

Point being, we are all vain, self-centered, self-involved, and altogether selfish at some time and being single only exaggerates the matter. It's the natural man pulling us down baby. Damn the man. I recall returning from the mission and falling into a depression because I wasn't helping others on a daily basis. It was all about me. I received calls and visits because I was home from the mission. I spoke in church and people came to see who? Me. I then proceeded to decide what I was going to do with my life. Working to make money for me. I under no means am trying to paint myself as a saint. Cuz I'm not. Am I the only one who has dealt with this dilemma?

I didn't want to work, study, anything, because I felt I was being selfish. I eventually mellowed and realized that some self interest was required to obtain the salvation that I taught while in Canada. But I still feel like it's the Sarah Show everyday all day with temporary interruptions in programming while I visit teach or babysitt my nieces. I do not have a husband or children to demand my focus and service on a daily basis. I work all day, and then go home and workout to improve my health if I have the energy. I cook for myself, run errands for myself and spend money on myself.

The only semi-consistent break I get from myself is taking care of my cat. Like coaxing her down from the roof this morning after she got out and went exploring. Throw all the old maid comments you want my way, but I understand how single old women end up with their thirteen cats and the neighbor kids telling spooky stories about how she killed her husband and buried him under the floor boards. My lil Gidget is someone to take care of, discipline, love and gives some love and affection back. I adore the fact that she follows me around, either attacking my legs or taking a catnap on my feet while I brush my teeth. She is excited when I get home and purrs and rubs up against me incessantly. Now if I could only get a man to do that. See I what I'm telling you? It's all about my needs.

I think it's dangerous in the fact that we become so accustomed to taking care of ourselves, that when a potential mate comes along, we sometimes have trouble shifting the attention to them. I for one think it would be refreshing taking care of someone else for a change. Sure it may get old in 10 years. But I'm talking about my needs. Now. Me, me, me, me, me.

And whoever can tell me how many times "I" and "me" are in there gets the bonus prize.

Self-Image and Being Single

2005-06-24T19:24:00.000-04:00

A couple of years ago, I took a ride on an emotional roller coaster. The theme park was the Mormon church, and I was given the ticket for free because I was single. The married folk got to work really hard to get a ticket through the tunnel of love and stairway to heaven.

I'd been so good my whole life, and I had never pictured life without marriage. After all, a woman's role as wife and mother is the most Godlike thing she can do in mortality. God wants us all to be more like him. Of course I would get married.

Then I didn't.

God is perfect, and the Church is true, so if I'm single, then it must be my fault. Had I done something wrong? Was I a terrible person who shouldn't inflict herself on a spouse and pass on distorted genes to children? My friend who slept around as a teenager ended up with a temple marriage. Did I have a hidden flaw that made me less worthy of such a blessing than her? Why wouldn't God tell me what my flaw was so I could repent?

Yeah, I got weird. Talking to Mormons didn't really help, because priesthood leaders and everyone else who meant well insisted that God loved me anyway, I hadn't failed at anything, and the Church needed me anyway. Whatever. You can't spend 30 years teaching me one thing, then conveniently change "what women should do with their lives" just to make me feel better. Eventually, I got weird enough about being single that my mom suggested I talk to a therapist. I pointed out that all of my self-image problems were directly related to the disconnect between my religious beliefs and my single status, and the therapist would probably try to cure me by getting me to give up my religion. That flummoxed mom and she didn't suggest therapy anymore.

An anonymous commenter (under Singles Panic Syndrome) mentioned that s/he has several single friends who are in therapy to help them cope with severe doubts about their self-worth, doubts that are connected to being single in a married church. Self-image problems created by being single are related to the idea that obedience brings blessings. Because temple marriage is the greatest blessing in this life or the life to come, it would follow that one must be extremely righteous to merit such a blessing. When it doesn't happen, it's easy to wonder whether you're more wicked than you thought you were, or if you're simply dirt and God doesn't trust you with a spouse and kids.

Being single or married is not related to righteousness. It's more of a social miracle than a religious miracle. I don't understand. If marriage is so important for our spiritual growth, why doesn't God help more? If the family is under attack, why do so many singles who would love to be spouses and parents remain single? That's like going to war and leaving the volunteers at home to do paperwork rather than putting them on the front lines. I don't know the answers.

I'm not weird about being single anymore, but I can't point to the reason I quit thinking that being single was related to my righteousness. That idea just gradually faded out. For better or worse, it took a lot of other ideas with it as I quit trying to "earn" the blessing of temple marriage.

Elder Richard G. Scott spoke in General Conference in April, 2001 about living the Ideal Life. Of course, the Ideal Life involves a spouse and kids, who are all active in the Church. He said that if you can't live the Ideal Life, live as close to it as you can.

I had a list of requirements for the Ideal Life, compiled over a lifetime of listening to talks and observing Mormon culture, that I tried to live as well as I could. The Ideal Mormon Woman, besides having a husband and kids, also does her visiting teaching, never turns down a calling, gets up by 8:00 a.m. even on weekends, listens to all eight hours of General Conference and attends Women's Conference the weekend before, wears nylons to Church, stays through all of sacrament meeting even when the talks are lame, publicly bears her testimony regularly, gives eloquent prayers, goes to enrichment meeting, doesn't have sexual urges while single, reads scriptures daily, has a spiritual experience every time she prays, dresses like a sister missionary, goes to the temple often, never wants to wear a tanktop, doesn't let polygamy bother her, shops at Deseret Book, knows the names of the RS General Presidency, and so on and so forth.

I don't strive to be Ideal anymore. Now when I do those things on the Ideal list, it's because I want to, rather than because I think God is going to eventually capitulate and agree that I am now righteous enough to get married. I was probably more righteous, as the Mormon Church measures righteousness, back before I came to terms with being single. But giving up the idea that I was going to receive all of the priesthood ordinances in mortality took some of my drive to live the Ideal Life with it. I'm relying on the grace of God instead of my own anxious efforts. Oh well. I'll take imperfection over depression any day.

"Okay, we're going out. Its a date, its a scam. Whatever, whatever" John Cusak as Lloyd Dobler

2005-06-22T11:33:00.000-04:00

LLOYD: I'm gonna take Diane Court out again.
COREY: Well thats unlikely.
LLOYD: Is the movies a good second date, you know? As a date?
COREY: Well you never had a first date.
LLOYD: Yes we did. I sat across from her at a mall. We ate together. We ate. That's eating. Sharing an important physical event.
COREY: That's not even a scam.
LLOYD: What's a scam?
COREY: Going out as friends.
DC: No its not. Scam is lusting.
LLOYD & COREY: Then what's a date?

DC: Date is a prearrangement. With a possibility for love.
COREY: Then what's love?

Name that movie and we will be friends for life. Possibly. But it illustrates two very important points before I get started here: 1) That there is a difference between 'a date' and other semi related activities, and 2) that despite whatever might be conveyed in the lines below, I feel for the nervous and painful responsibility of being the asker outer.

The following is an excerpt from a recent discussion I had with a longtime married man. It stemmed from Elder Oak's CES Fireside address last month and his very specific mention of the necessary change in the dating patterns of the LDS single.

"Don't tell me that men and women are equally responsible for initiating courtship. Have you ever been hunting? So tell me, when have you seen the doe nosing around the buck? It's always the other way around. It's nature!"

While I don't negate that it is perfectly okay for women to ask men out, (don't expect to see me in that role anytime soon. I blame it on my old-fashioned values, but really I am just flirtaciously challenged) I do presume that generally it lies within the man's role. I know, *cringe*. I don't deny that I accept the male gender as the ideal provider and such. Not at all implying that I can't take care of myself, but I wouldn't turn down good help. After all good help is so hard to find nowadays.

I understand that some of us are more aggressive than others, and ideally we would all pair up accordingly and balance each other out. However.....I do find some merit in Elder Oak's admonishment to the single men that they need to be asking women out on dates. In the same above referenced conversation my sister noted that her husband had been adamant when he asked her out, that they were going out on a DATE. Very John Cusak-esque. My bro-in-law abhorred the thought that nobody had the guts to call it what it was ( I know, major generalizations here, but hang with me). My sister on the other hand, a modest and brilliant model attending BYU after a stint working in France and Germany, found it refreshing to find a guy that had the *you know whats* to ask her out for real. Perhaps she was spoiled being a tall blonde prancing around these European men unabashedly offering catcalls and dates in any variety of languages. She states that she saw in him at first a slightly goofy man who would be a good husband and father, a provider who wasn't afraid to go after what he wanted in life. And he is.

So while I realize that I can't sit back and wait for that man to come to my rescue, I would like to go out on a date once in while and have great respect for the guys that actually do date. Quite the contrast to younger years when I find the frequent daters cocky and need I mention "players". Poor souls, they just can't win.

Am I alone is this desire to be swept off my feet while reserving the freedom to be as independent as I want at any given moment? I feel I am such a contradiction at times. Still I have learned to embrace it while attempting to spare the rest of society the brunt of my contradictory sprees.

In review, going back to the dialouge above: a 'date' requires prearrangment and is personified by the possibilty of love. Which can be preceded by friendship and a roaring good time, and somtimes end there. So fear not potentional date initiators.

And please tell me I am not a completely lost cause and some poor soul will have the guts to put of with me for all eternity if not one evening. I mean really, I am a moderately intellegent RM with a moderately good sense of humor and dare I say moderately attractive? Most people don't cringe upon meeting me. Maybe it's this plague I've been caring around.

Patriarchal Blessing Addition?

2005-06-20T18:35:00.000-04:00

The worst part about dating--besides, you know, rejection, awkwardness, and disappointment--is uncertainty.

I love my life, but I still get panicky when I think about unknown months or years or decades until I meet a man I want to marry. And it's the unknown part that kills me. I'm positive that if my patriarchal blessing said, "Laura, you will be married at age 45," or 52 or 29 or 102, my singleness and I would be much better friends. It's the not knowing that is so hard.

It's a tricky balance, trying to simultaneously excel in my career and keep myself open to starting a family. It's hard logistically to make time to socialize, learn skillz that will help me as a wife and mother (you know, like nunchuck skillz), and still do all the things a professional single women needs to take care of.

Even harder than juggling two very different potential life tracks, though, is keeping myself emotionally available to both options. It seems impossible to commit my energies to my future as a single professional and also commit emotional resources to my future as a married SAHM.

If I knew I were getting married at age 45, though, it would be a lot simpler to wholeheartedly embrace my single life now, and look forward to my eventual married life. Really, think about it. Wouldn't that solve a lot of problems?

I suppose the truth is that we all know we'll get married eventually. I'm not an expert on post-mortem nuptials, but it's probably safe to assume that I'll be married in the next 100 years or so. That should, no doubt, be more comforting to me than it is.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I ought to be living my single life more fully regardless of whether I get married next year or in 3 decades or not until after I die. It's a hard thing to do, though. Which is why I think adding a standard paragraph about marriage date to patriarchal blessings would be a great idea. Heck, if we also got a short list of best possible marriage partners--complete with addresses and phone numbers--dating would be really simple, as well as much cheaper.

So, what do you think? Are there benefits to uncertainty in dating and singlehood? Or should I take that course in becoming a psychic after all?

Single men, the poor darlings

2005-06-20T17:44:00.000-04:00

"Sisters, sadly, some of you will not marry in this life. To you we say that we love you, we need you, the work you do and the service you offer lightens the burdens of those around you. Please know that our Heavenly Father is mindful of you, and that all the blessings of exaltation will be yours if you continue faithful to your covenants. To the single men, we would remind you that an unmarried man over 25 is a menace to society, so go get married."

I made that up, but it sounds familiar, doesn't it?

After I got over feeling smug because Church leaders love me while they think all the men who haven't married me are slackers, I started wondering why single men don't get nearly as much love and encouragement as the single sisters.

I came up with the following reasons:

1. The Brethren think men are in charge of initiating a relationship. (I think that's a bit odd, given all the talk about how the husband and the wife are equal partners in marriage who should work together. If that's true, shouldn't they be equal partners in initiating the relationship?)

2. If a man dared to suggest that the women needed to shape up, he would be eaten alive.

3. Single men have a harder time living the law of chastity than single women, and so need to get browbeaten into a legitimate sexual relationship before they sin.

Those were the only politically polite reasons I could think of.

Or maybe, by encouraging women to be faithful and subtly discouraging men, the Brethren ensure a surplus of women in the Celestial Kingdom for post-mortal polygamy. Ooh, that's a diabolical plot. I can't see that as a reason, though. It's just not nice.

So what do you think? Why do single women get all sorts of nice things said about them, while single men typically have to endure scoldings?

A Cowpie for Johnny Lingo

2005-06-17T17:29:00.000-04:00

I cringed at the display set up next to the wedding guestbook. A small case with twelve tiny Holsteins in it stood next to a gold-bordered sign that proclaimed in calligraphy, "Jill is my twelve-cow wife." Good for her; she beat Mahana by fifty percent.

In the movie, Johnny Lingo, the richest, most handsome man on the island returns to marry the ugliest, shyest woman on the island. Mahana is so socially backward that she spends her days hiding in a tree, while the villagers yell, "Mahana you ugly!" But Johnny Lingo knows the true Mahana. He pays her father eight cows for permission to marry her, more for her than any groom has ever paid for a bride. He treats her like a queen. Under his love, Mahana blossoms into a beautiful gracious woman.

For those who identified with Johnny Lingo, the story has a good moral. Treat others well because they will respond to your treatment and become who you expect them to be.

But for those of us who identified with Mahana, the moral is crippling. Someone must rescue you from the tree and treat you like you're beautiful before you'll be able to change.

I bet if Johnny Lingo had never showed up, Mahana would have gotten herself down from the tree. She would have decided she was a beautiful gracious woman, and because she believed that, people would treat her like one. She would have done it without Johnny Lingo and his smelly cows.

I got myself down from the tree without a Johnny Lingo. Of course, since I had to do it myself, I've got a chip on my shoulder about the whole situation. If Johnny Lingo ever does show up, he'd better start off with an apology for neglecting me, or I'm likely to tell him he can pack it in and go marry a chimp, because I found out I don't need him to rescue me, thank you very much.

But then again, if a not-so-rich, not-so-handsome man shows up, I might go a little easier on him. He can give me a cow, I'll give him a cow, we'll call it even and get on with the business of living.

Single's Panic Syndrome

2005-06-16T20:27:00.000-04:00

Much of the time I move happily enough from work to play to church. Life is good; I am happy with myself and the things I'm doing. Then, all of a sudden, BLAM! Single's Panic Syndrome hits me in the face.

My most recent episode was triggered by hearing that my recently ex-ed fiance is getting married, and not to me. I instantly went from merry Laura to despairing Laura, dissolving into a welter of insecurities and Ben & Jerry's.

You too may suffer from Single's Panic Syndrome (SPS) if you have 8 or more of the following symptoms:

You resent happy couples.
You feel broken because you don't date as much as you want.
You are sure that the solution to every problem--car troubles, bad roommates, unfulfilling job--is having a boy/girlfriend.
You are suspicious of other people, believing they either treat you kindly out of pity for your singleness, or that they treat you unkindly out of contempt for your singleness.
You view people not as individuals but only in terms of their relationships; your world turns into a couples vs singles battles.
You are certain that you would enjoy things more if you were in a relationship.
You think the things you're involved in are simply a way to bide time, rather than activities that are valuable in itself.
You become paranoid about the way people view you.
You have dating desperation, throwing yourself at any and every guy, without evaluating them or your compatibility together.
You mistrust all wo/men.
You constantly compare yourself with people who are in relationships.
You feel like you can't pursue personal growth, goals, or interests because you are single.

For me, SPS comes and goes. I am especially vulnerable when something happens to make me feel insecure: starting a new job, having a miserable date, gaining 5 pounds, making a mistake. My instinct at these times is to blame all my painful emotions--fear, loneliness, uncertainty, disappointment--on being single. When I'm in the throes of SPS, I really truly believe that being single is the cause of all the unhappiness in my life. Blaming singleness for normal human pain also becomes a way for me to avoid dealing with my feelings or the situation directly.

With SPS, singleness becomes a crutch, an excuse to put off personal growth or to let me avoid looking at things I need to change. "But I'm single!" I wail. "How can I possibly be expected to be happy/work towards goals/reach out to others/feel peace/be excited about my future while I'm single?"

The other tendency is for me to use that crutch to beat other people with-I distrust their motives, resent them, and basically try to make them responsible for my pain.

All the negative emotions that come with SPS, though, are a part of all human life. No one--married, dating, or single--lives entirely free from disappointment, self-doubt, frustration, and loneliness.

I want to make it clear that I think SPS is a different issue than the long process of facing a life without children or husband. LDS single adults come to peace with that (temporary) future in their own way and in their own timing. I don't know anyone who finds that an easy or quick or simple thing to do, especially in a church where we are constantly reminded of God's intense interest in families.

However, God is even more interested in individuals. And I am certain that He does not want me to depend on relationships for all my feelings of validation, fulfillment, and self-worth.

My recent bout of SPS is going into remission, for which I am very glad. I'm going to try to understand myself better, serve others more meaningfully, follow my dreams more passionately and listen to God more carefully so that I stay disease-free--at least for a while.

And in the meantime, I've got a freezer full of Ben & Jerry's. Cherry Garcia, anyone?

Introductory Navel-Gazing

2005-06-15T00:06:00.000-04:00

I'm your typical angst-ridden, bewildered, over-educated, Happy Valley dwelling, self-pitying, faithful, single Mormon woman whose biological alarm clock is refusing the snooze button. A lifetime Mormon, I've run the gamut of Mormon single experiences -- Young Single Adult wards, blind dates, tri-stake dances, LDS matchmaking websites, annual chastity lectures by the bishopric, the Set-A-Date program (hey, if it can work to meet someone to baptize, it should've worked to meet someone to marry), aging out of the YSA ward, fasting and prayer, the culture shock of a family ward, and responding to people who wonder how someone as cute as I am could possibly still be single.

Being single at 33 is a shock. I never questioned the truth that marriage and motherhood is the state in which a woman reaches closest to her divine potential. I believed that I was headed for a husband in the bishopric and eight kids. (With an ambition like that, God should have granted it just to punish me for my pride in thinking I could handle it.)

Somewhere, I must have taken a wrong turn. I never intended to actually have a career. If I had, I would have thought twice about getting a law degree. I don't have the personality to be a lawyer, and I've known that from way back. But I figured I'd only have to work until the kids were born, then I'd stay home and take care of them. Instead, I landed a dream job at a fancy Salt Lake law firm.

I kept granting God continuances. Okay, God, I'll finish my college degree, then I'll meet my husband. Hmm, a B.A. Okay, I'll start law school, then I'll meet my husband. Hmm, first year done. Okay, I'll finish law school, then I'll meet my husband. Hmm, a J.D. Okay, I'll find a job, then I'll meet my husband. Hmm, my one year anniversary at work. Okay, I'll finish this vitally important project at work which is, of course, the reason I'm not married yet because no one else could handle this, then I'll meet my husband. Hmm, a settlement. Okay, death.

Ah, denial. Cheaper than therapy.

Denial about being single is actually a show of faith. Really. James tells us that you have to be convinced you'll get what you ask for (a husband and kids). To think that you won't get it would be letting your faith waver, and then you've jinxed yourself and you definitely won't get it. See James 1:6-7.

I finally jinxed myself and thought, "so what if I don't get married?" Bad reaction, very bad reaction -- anger, depression, confusion, self-pity, betrayal, discouragement, hopelessness and desperation. I wondered if I had any worth at all as a woman. Was this my fault or God's fault? Because this can't have been intended as the ideal situation.

I see other singles who are happily Mormon, and wonder how to be like them. I have a sneaking suspicion about those single folk who are happily Mormon. I think they've been where I am now, wandering through their own dark night of the soul. I've been in the dark long enough that I think I caught a glimpse of daybreak. But I could be wrong - it might just be a firefly.

Comment Policy

2005-05-13T22:02:00.000-04:00

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