Atê

Gliese 581 g aka "Zarmina's World"

2010-10-01T11:13:00.000-07:00

One day when we tell the story of our lives we may refer to this time as "the year they discovered Gliese 581 g." It's the planet that orbits in the sweet spot of a red giant with temperatures that could support life. It could have an atmosphere, it might have water, it might have bacteria, it might have a whole ecosystem. We can't tell from this distance. The astonishing part is that it's tidally locked to its sun so that the same side of the planet always faces it, and part of the world is always left in shadow. The part that gets the direct sunlight is too hot and the shadow portion is too cold but there's a ring that in perpetual twilight and the temperature is perfect for human life.

I'm not terribly surprised; we've found planets with potentially livable conditions before. Alpha Centauri comes readily to mind. What surprises me is that no one seems terribly excited. We have found a new world--one that might support life. Our grandchildren may see the space ship built for its' exploration. Our great grandchildren may colonize it. It could be the beginning of our spread from one single rock floating alone in space to a series of connected worlds.

Mankind abhors a vacuum even more than space does. The thought of a life-supporting planet, unexplored and empty of humans, is intolerable. We must seek out fresh frontiers to save our civilization from stagnation. And in the long run, it’s essential for the survival of our species; not even our sun can last forever. Our travel beyond this solar system is inevitable; the only other option is extinction.

I think that the lack of enthusiasm for space exploration is borne from the myth that traveling beyond our solar system is a pipe dream—something so far beyond our grasp that humanity might not live to see it. True, we’re not there yet. We have mastered the theories necessary, but the application is too expensive.

There are many factors holding us back, but they are temporary. We cannot help but explore, eventually we will leave Earth and streak across the galaxy in the mad frenzy of animal released from a cage. How I envy those who will live to see it. If we had the craft now, ready to leave for a planet just barely prepared for human life, I know I would be on it.

Is enough really enough Judy?

2010-09-29T06:26:00.000-07:00

In my wanderings I found this website.

http://slightlywarped.com/crapfactory/curiosities/2010/stupid_answers.htm

For those of you not quite curious enough to click on the link (and it is a massive time waster) I’ll summarize. The work sheet asks a question, the student gives an intentionally wrong answer and the poor teacher throws his or her hands up in frustration. Some answers are born out of

Boredom.....

Or laziness...

A funny acknowledgment of ignorance...

Or they couldn’t pass up a good joke...

But sometimes I sense defiance

I want you to notice that on the bottom left the paper says “lesson 3- Feelings.” Someone gave little Judy a homework assignment designed to help her identify human emotion. Imagine if your boss or professor gave you a similar assignment—it’s a bit insulting isn’t it? Who wants to discuss emotions with their boss?

But there’s more to it than that. It’s not simply when the topic is ridiculous. There’s a problem with format. It’s either a or b. And while it’s true that many questions have only one correct answer, the questions are presented as drills rather than puzzles. Puzzles are fun, that’s why I like algebra. Drills however are deadly dull.

And then there’s the worksheet itself. A worksheet is entirely impersonal. You wonder if the teacher is consciously grading a person’s paper or if the teacher is simply entering in the percentage of correct questions into a column that happens to be labeled by a human name. I can see how it’s tempting to a student to demand acknowledgement through doodles—to force a genuine interaction rather than giving an expected answer.

I only did this once in my whole life. When I was a college student I took a psychological statistics course. At the end of each statistic’s problem was the additional question “how would you explain this to someone who has no knowledge of statistics?” I found myself writing the same paragraph word for word over and over in response to this question. So once I copied down my stock explanation I added “then I would publicly flog whoever asked me so many statistics questions when they had no prior knowledge of the subject.” That’s probably not an exact quote, but it involved flogging.

Soon after, the professor sent an e-mail asking the students to stop writing smart-alec responses to the question. He used public flogging as an example of an inappropriate answer. He said that explaining the concept was valuable and it ensured comprehension. Of course he was right. And I felt bad that I might have offended him. I felt worse the next year when I found out that my new roommate was the TA who graded that paper.

'Cause that ain't a metaphor

2010-09-28T06:28:00.000-07:00

In my dream, Shane and I were on the BYU football team. We were second and third string, and I was the only girl, my position was "third tackle," yeah, I know it's a made up position. My job was to jump in front of the running back so he had to move suddenly and get tackled by someone else. I was advised not to tackle anyone since I was much smaller and I'd only hurt myself.

When we went to play Wyoming, a lot of the BYU players brought their wives and they visited the wives of the Wyoming players like they were all old friends. They were all well-dressed, thin, tan and blond. When I showed up in workout clothes one of them exclaimed "Oh, you must be a dancer." I assured her that I was not a dancer but a member of the prestigious BYU football team with an important team meeting to attend. The women laughed and invited me into their homes where they told me about their football playing husbands and asked me about my husband's football career. No one believed that I was on the team.

Eventually I started enjoying myself with them but I still had an important pre-game meeting to attend. I left the women and told them that I had to go talk with my husband. I made it to the meeting just in time, but no one seemed to care that I was there. The men were polite but they mostly ignored me because they had a big game to think about. I was an unimportant player who wouldn’t even step foot on the field. It was obviously a waste of the team’s resources to transport me to games. I wondered why I was so anxious to leave the women’s house for a game I was so clearly incompetent in.

When I woke up I didn’t know which group was better. With the football wives we could afford to talk all day about our husbands and children—but we never had anything to say about selves. With the team itself, there was no hostility but I was only in the way; I wasn’t even any good at the game so there was no point in demanding that they acknowledge me. I had neither the heart to be complacent nor the skill to be successful.

Strangers on the Phone

2010-09-16T07:47:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't already know, I'm a receptionist for multiple companies; it’s what you would call an "answering service." My job is to direct the calls and screen out telemarketers. Every now and then I encounter a client with a problem so unusual that I have no idea what to do with them. Just today, I took a call for a lawyer’s office. It went something like this:

Her: do you deal with agents?

Me: I believe so

Her: good, because someone told me that Mel Gibson is my brother. I had never thought about it (digresses into Mel Gibson's family history.) It's neat to think that a celebrity might be your brother.

(Pause)

(Pause)

(Pause)

Me: if Mel Gibson is your brother, perhaps your parents might have mentioned it?

Her: (laughs) well I don't know. I just want to ask him if he knows anyone by the name of Wilson*

Me: ma'am, I think you're being scammed.

Her: oh really?

Me: it's like when you get an e-mail saying that you are the only living relative of a rich man in Nigeria.

Her: (laughs) well I don't know about that. By the way, are there any genetic testing places in San Francisco?

Lawyers often get the strangest calls, a few moments ago a man called for a family practice lawyer. I asked him what the call was regarding and this is his verbatim answer:

"my estranged wife...I'm a truck driver with high blood pressure...my wife brought me medicine from her job and now I'm having heart palpitations...I think she might be trying to kill me...she might have life insurance policy on me..I don't know”

In the end I had to tell him that we don't handle that kind of case. It made me wonder who does handle that kind of case.

I couldn't make this up. What's even more disturbing is that it happens regularly, and the most troubling bit is that I hardly notice it anymore. The last time I was truly shocked was when a lady called a fertility clinic and wanted to "donate her embryo." I assumed that she really meant "donate my eggs" so I prepare to transfer her to one of the fertility specialists. Then the woman continues "It's about two months along." A light bulb clicks for me and I change my approach "Oh, you must have us confused with an adoption agency" I say. "No," she replies "I want to donate my embryo."

How do you explain to a woman that once she's conceived a child there's no way to get rid of it without an abortion or actually giving birth? She was thoroughly convinced that we could simply cut her open, remove the still--forming cluster of life from her body and transplant it into an expectant mother-to-be. I had nothing to say, just as I had nothing to say to the woman who thought that her brother might be a celebrity and the man with the potentially murderous spouse. A stranger's voice over the phone is not enough to persuade someone that the world does not work the way they believed it did.

*Name has been changed

Since January...

2010-09-15T12:14:00.000-07:00

I refuse to apologize for the eight month lapse in posting. People who apologize for a lack of posting have terribly dull blogs, not even their own mothers bother to read them.

Some of you have asked, and yes there is more to the novel I posted last time. If you’re interested in being a beta reader let me know.

Now down to the serious business of letting you know what I’ve been up to. For your convenience I have prepared a time line

· January: Find employment at a home for two mentally handicapped men.

· February: 1 year anniversary, go to a cabin in Cedar. Both of us sick.

· March: Night shifts and changing diapers is starting to wear on me, take another job offer

· April: Working at an answering service, grateful for steady employment.

· May: Springtime!

· June: Shane and I both get accepted in George Mason University in Washington D.C. He’ll study Industrial Organizational Psychology, I’ll Study Counseling and Development.

Also Disney land! My first trip in my whole life! Not overrated at all! Four consecutive exclamation marks!

· July: In a fit of responsibility I decide to defer classes for a year and earn some money until I become a Virginia resident and qualify for lower tuition. I hit the “pause button” on life. Time to pack up and move to DC

· August: After a cross country journey... Utah Sunset Shane Driving A fair in Kansas Liberty Jail The Parthenon

and a brief stay with my folks I arrive in a strange green land. Shane spends his evenings assembling IKEA furniture while I try to make a meal in our tiny kitchen. I flew back to Utah to watch my brother get married/sealed in the temple. I am so proud of him and I’m glad to have another sister.

And now I’m well established in DC. I kept my old job at the answering service and now I’m working from home. It’s convenient, but on the other hand I have no incentive to ever leave my house and I seldom meet new people. I’m making friends in the ward and I have adventures on the weekends. I’ve already toured Gettysburg, the holocaust museum, 4 presidential monuments (seriously, the monolith is waaay taller than it looks on TV) and 3 war memorials. Also, I went camping. The end.

A little something I'm working on.

2010-01-20T16:58:00.000-08:00

She was very sorry about breaking her promise—not sorry enough to stop bashing the young gentleman’s face with the coat rack—but still, very sorry indeed. The long bronze tool had a satisfying heaviness, almost as satisfying as the dull thud it made on contact. It was a masterpiece of a coat rack.
Bludgeoning wasn’t Tenae’s method of choice; normally she preferred a subtler method since she was a bit on the petite side and heavy blunt weapons are better suited for heavy blunt men. But she had promised her mother to come unarmed, so she had to make do with what was available. She had also promised to behave. Fifty percent accuracy, she would have to live with that.
She realized that the man was no longer grunting, he had fallen unconscious while she had let her mind wander. She cursed herself for her inattentiveness. Just a few months away from The Island and I’ve gone soft. She felt a twinge of remorse when she thought about The Island. She shook it off and checked the young man’s pulse. Tenae placed the coat rack neatly upright and meticulously rearranged the coats. She left the body in the closet, but she left the door open so someone would find him soon. She had been very noisy at the end; it was a surprise that no one had come to investigate yet. What she didn’t know was that while Sir. Chaucy was a bit too well loved by the ladies he was less than popular with the gentlemen—no one was in a hurry to rush to his aid.
Quietly she left the bedroom, cursing herself for entering it in the first place. In retrospect she realized that she should’ve known better than to blindly trust someone just because she didn’t sense a physical threat. She was quickly learning that other assets—reputation, money, and allies—were vulnerable to attack as well. She wouldn’t be so careless in the future. She passed through the hallway scarcely more noticeable than a shadow and paused quickly to check her hair. It had taken half an hour for her maid to arrange and now it was a mess. Granted, it wouldn’t have taken so long if Tenae hadn’t insisted on sharpening her throwing knives during the process. But still, she was a little miffed at Sir Chaucy for mussing her hair.
She held her head high and descended gracefully down the stairs; she had become very good at descending in the past few months. Her mother greeted her at the foot of the stairs with a frozen smile.
“Jaquelevieve” she mother addressed her, Tenae winced at the name “I heard a strange noise upstairs, I hope you’re alright.”
Tenae stifled a grimace and returned the smile. “Of course I am mother. But Sir Chaucy is a bit indisposed; perhaps we should send someone to look after him.”
Tenae could almost feel the tension building in her mother, though her exterior remained unruffled. “I don’t think that will be necessary” said her mother “doubtless the servants are already attending to him, but I think it is time that you and I went home. I feel a headache coming on.”
The carriage ride home was silent. But as soon as Tenae walked through the front gate her mother invited her for a walk in the garden. Her mother, the formidable Mrs. Rosyleanna Ov’Levark, loved these garden walks. She felt it was coarse to disagree in public or in front of servants. The garden was large, private and had long, long trails for long, long “discussions.” Tenae hated every flower and shrub.
The girl examined her options. She found eight plausible routes of escapes, the best was also the simplest: turn around, run to the stables, steal a horse, earn her wages on a ship, return to The Island and never respond to her mother’s letters. She knew her mother would never follow her there—her mother couldn’t even bear the mention of her father’s name, much less his presence. But Tenae wouldn’t leave; she still had much training to complete.
“I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself.” Mrs. Ov’Levark said “first tell me what you did to Sir Chaucy”
“He’s still alive, just missing a few teeth. I had to use the coat rack; you wouldn’t let me bring as much as a stun dart. All this unpleasantness could have been avoided if I could have just gotten a little of that paralysis juice into his bloodstream.”
“Paralysis juice? I taught you better than that.”
“ A combination of jalafruit and the pollen from filie’s wort. Mashed together until it’s liquid, dip your darts in it and it’s the best tranquilizer I’ve ever found.”
“It’s called lullaby syrup. You’re supposed to give small amounts to children who won’t go to sleep. I’m very disappointed that you would use this knowledge on something so inappropriate.”
Good thought Tenae, she’s distracted, maybe we can avoid this discussion after all.
But her mother wasn’t so easily sidetracked. “Back to the matter at hand. Why did you feel it was necessary to assault our host’s son?”
“In all fairness he threw the first punch.”
“Did you do anything to provoke that?”
“I did try to strangle him with the curtains.”
Her mother simply stared.
“Unfortunately the curtains were made out of a thin gauzy fabric, entirely unsuitable for the job.”
Her mother’s eyes bore into her, demanding more information.
Tenae sighed and launched into her explanation in earnest. “I was trying to strangle him because he was getting ready to tackle me. It may or may not have something to do with the way I tossed him off the bed when he leaned forward, placed his hand where his hand should not be and tried to kiss me. He had his tongue sticking out and everything mother, it was horrible.”
Mrs. Ov’Levark’s face did not indicate any sympathy. “Let’s go back to the part where you tossed him off the bed, what were you doing in the bedroom?”
“Oh” shrugged Tenae, this detail seemed irrelevant to her “I was staring out the window in the parlor and he approached me. We talked about the weather, and swords, and horses, he seemed like a really nice gentleman. So when he suggested that we go upstairs and enjoy the view from his room I thought it would be more interesting than the boring party.”
Her mother took a deep breath and counted to thirty. Tenae fiddled with her dress, it was tied much too tightly. Finally her mother broke the silence “he asked you to go upstairs and enjoy the view from his room?” She said slowly.
“Yes.” This much seemed obvious.
“What exactly did you expect would happen upstairs?”
“I thought we’d enjoy the view and keep talking about swords and horses, I don’t know why he thought he could kiss me just because I followed him upstairs.”
It was at that moment that Mrs. Ov’Levark realized that her daughter knew nothing about men. Somehow her daughter had managed to grow up entirely surrounded by men, training with men, and sharing quarters with men and still be entirely clueless about how to interact with them in society. She sat down on the side of the trail and laughed hopelessly.

I'm a Bad Person

2009-12-12T22:47:00.001-08:00

Part I.

It's ten o'clock on a Saturday night. I'm on a date in Salt Lake. My husband answers his phone. It's someone from the ward--she wants me to re-do the Christmas program for Sunday morning. She is greatly distressed because I did not include the names of all the singers, pianists, flute players and other star performers.

I explained that the ward program has a finite space and cannot accommodate the names of everyone who participates. She explained that in the meeting with her committee they had discussed the correct spellings and importance of every name. I told her that I would take care of it, thank you, goodbye. I wasn't technically rude, but I was a bit terse.

After my sweet husband (who sensed my anger) corrected my egregious oversight, I sent the following e-mail:

Hey ladies,

I finished the program with the names of all your performers in it. We had plenty of space, it's just a bit messy looking. Sorry if I was a little terse on the phone, I was on a date in Salt Lake. In the future you can just e-mail me, I normally check my inbox on Sunday morning for any last minute changes to the directory--I'm sure that you'd rather not have to call me late on a Saturday night.

Thanks for being so prompt every week with the ward music info.

Laura

Was it petty? Yes. But not nearly as petty as I wanted it to be. I also wanted to highlight the names of all the performers, them set them in bold, 16 point font, and "Broadway" type. Shane drew the line--he pointed out that a sacrament meeting is not the forum for my sarcasm.

Why am I so upset? I shouldn't be. The girl meant no harm, she just wanted to be sure that everyone who worked hard was publicly acknowledged. She probably thought that my oversight was glaring enough to justify her calling me late on a Saturday night just to tell me that I'm wrong. In her defense she even told me that she hates to make a big deal about this kind of thing. I simply hate having my date interrupted so that someone I've never met can imply that I am inconsiderate.

Part II.

This is just the straw that broke the camel's back. I don't belong in this ward. I have not had such a hard time fitting in anywhere since high school. I normally make friends quickly. It's different here. I start up a conversation and as soon as I leave the safe "Where are you from? What are you studying?" questions, everything falls apart.

No one is unkind, but no one recipricates my overtures of friendship. For months I tried really hard to participate in the community, help out, and make friends. Now I find myself less and less active. Shane has to coax me into Relief Society every week. I loved Relief Society in my old wards--they were my favorite part.

I don't know what else to try. I go to the meetings and activities, I smile, try to make conversation, and restrict any comments that may alienate these girls. No success. I think that I might leave the married student ward and go to the family ward. Afterall, I'm not really a student anymore. Maybe it will help, or maybe the problem isn't the ward--it's me.

A Few Firsts

2009-12-03T18:34:00.000-08:00

Today was the first time that my husband Shane was colder than I was--ever. Winters haven't been so daunting since he bought me my enormous coat. It's like a ski coat that goes down to my knees.

Also, I have never been busier at any time in my life. I've been extremely busy for days. This is my last semester, I'm looking for a job, and I have graduate school applications. Yet, it's not so bad. I'm slowly but surely accomplishing things ahead of schedule. I'll be ok.

I wish you all the best, but I really should go. Come Christmas Caroling with me this Sunday at Cove retirement home 7 PM.

Sunshine

2009-11-21T12:32:00.000-08:00

Provo DJs think they're clever. On the way home from watching Citizen Kane for my film class I turned on the radio and heard "Iiiiii'm gonna soak up the suuun." I looked out the window and saw the pale gray sky, oppressively low and particularly dense. "Really?" I asked the DJ. He had no answer so I changed the station. I only get four radio stations since someone broke the antenna. Everyone else was playing commercials. I cam back to the song.

In retrospect maybe the DJ was trying to be funny. Maybe it was chosen in Cinncinati or some equally distant city and then the music was canned and bradcast nationwide regardless of local preference. All I know is that this is a dreary day to be doing homework.

In the Spirit of Thanksgiving

2009-11-18T19:37:00.000-08:00

Explanation: This list is in order of what occurs to me first, NOT most thankful to least thankful

My husband, Shane. When he does his hair he looks like James Bond, or at least what James Bond should look like.
God, the atonement and His love.
My parents and siblings (especially my brother in Iraq)
Shane's family, not only are they nice but they feed me too!
Excellent friends, I mean really top-notch people. I feel good about myself just being around them.

Interjection: have you ever noticed that the big things that people are grateful for are almost the same universally? Everyone is grateful for family. Those that believe in God are extremely grateful for him. Friends are always on the list. I think that when it comes down to it, people are most grateful for relationships. Relationships with God, Family and Friends. Everything else fades.

My country, not only does it come with a lot of perks (education, clean water etc.) but I still believe that we're built on the ideals we learned in elementary school. I still believe that our nation is worth defending and supporting.
Pets both past and future.
My apartment, I love the paint, I love the big windows, I love the kitchen, it's a happy place to live
Going to school at BYU, the campus is lovely, the classes are above average and the extracurriculars are cool and mostly free.
Books, it's amazing that we have a way to preserve thought long after the thinker is dead.
My health, I can do anything I need to. I am in good enough physical shape that with enough training I could run marathons, climb mountains (I mean higher than the ones I've already climbed), and bench press my own weight. There are no impediments other than my own laziness.

Conclusion: of course there's more, there's always more things to be grateful for. I could go into detail and say that I'm grateful for things like zipcodes and belly button lint--and yes, the little things do make me happy--but I think I have the big things covered. I am richly blessed, I hope that you find yourself with as many reasons to rejoice.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tuwid8_O8dk

Death-Stories of Distant Ancestors

2009-11-11T17:02:00.000-08:00

The following is most likely inaccurate. These are stories I vaguely remember hearing from people who were not alive when these events transpired. Mom, Dad, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is how I remember the death-stories of distant ancestors.

Diabetes runs in my family. I don't have it yet, but one of these days I'm going to eat one too many cookies and my foot will loose circulation and fall off. A distant Great-Aunt of mine (or something like that) also had diabetes. She was an elderly woman living all alone. One night she fell into a diabetic coma and died. A friend of hers reports that the last thing my Great Aunt said was "I'm going to eat these sweet potatoes even if it kills me." I like her, she sounds spunky.

I once walked out into the snow after a hot and sweaty basketball game. My father told me that I needed to put on a jacket no matter how warm I felt. He said that I had a colonial ancestor who died from the cold after hours of dancing and working up a sweat at a party. I like to imagine that she was both athletic and smokin' hot.

I have a Native American ancestor name Anna Moriah Pocahontas Lee Dye. One year she had a terrible ear infection. Back in the day people cured ear infections by pouring warm oil or wax into the ear canal. The wax was too warm for her and it caused permanent damage and led to her insanity. She died in an asylum, beaten to death by the staff. I wish I knew more about her.

This story is not about the death of my ancestor--it's about who my ancestor killed. In the early days of America, my ancestors lived in the frontier (which back then was like, Ohio or something.) They had constant skirmishes with the Indians over land. The father of the house (John Woodson) died in the Powhattan Uprising on April 18th, 1644, the wife (Sara Woodson) saw this from inside their home. She and a visitor named Lignon hid the children and defended the home. Lignong killed five men with a gun. Meanwhile 2 more indians came through the chimney. Sara scalded one to death with a pot of boiling water and brained the other man with a cast-iron skillet. He died instantly. I think she understood the value of never doing a half-hearted job.

My mother once defended our home with a skillet, but that's another story. She gave me a cast iron skillet and a note with that story on it when I got married. I expect to carry on the family tradition. Not just the tradition of handing down skillets, but the traditions of how they lived. I picture my ancestors as a rought bunch, the sort of people who would kill you if you needed killin' and feed you if you needed feedin'. I think that they lived independantly, aggressively, and didn't have the luxury of cowardice.

Why did we Kill the Women's Research Institute?

2009-11-04T16:04:00.000-08:00

The BYU administration displayed extreme disregard for Women's Studies when they "reorganized" the minor and eliminated the Women's Research Institute altogether. They have wisely remained quiet on the the matter with only a barely publicized press release--aparently they how how unpopular this action is. By removing this insitute and keeping it quiet they are essentially saying to the students "We don't care about research related to women, we don't care about academinc interests concerning gender, and we hope that the majority of students won't figure out what we've done." To the world BYU administrators are saying "Yes, we are every bit as conservative as you believe us to be; please continue to see us as old fashioned, patriarchial and oppressive." Keeping the minor and cutting the funding for research is exactly the sort of condescending pat on the head that we don't need.

To view the press release go to:
http://news.byu.edu/archive09-Oct-womens.aspx

To write your own letter to the editor go to:

http://universe.byu.edu/letters

Secrets

2009-10-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

I have a personal dictionary in which I keep my private definitions. Under "secrets" I have written the following:

"Try not to have any--you're terrible at keeping them to yourself."

I've never been good with secrets. I try to buy Christmas presents at the last minute simply because I can't stand the suspense.

Within the past month I have accidentally revealed to an interested third party that the gentleman in question was interested in someone else (what? I thought everyone knew that. Oh, he only told me? Well, that changes things then.) I'm still living that one down. I am all too aware of another male/female intrigue. I wish I knew nothing about it; I am afraid that at any moment details will come spewing out of my mouth simply because I wasn't thinking. (actually I'm a little flattered to be even a spectator in this intrigue, but I'mafraid to touch this one with a ten foot pole.) Last of all I have a present for Shane. All that he knows is that I found a coupon for something that is normally expensive. Ok, ok, I also told him how much it cost, I also told him when he'll get it, I may have mentioned that it's an activity that takes an hour. It's just that once I start, the words just keep spilling out.

To be fair, I do keep secrets very well as long as people are 100 % clear that the information is strictly confidential. I've had people tell me about unwed pregnancies, anorexia, pornography addictions and other potentially toxic information and that was easy to keep to myself. I just hope that this skill carries over into therapy--I'll be a terrible counselor if I come home everyday and say "you'll never believe what Mrs. Dixon told me."

2009-10-07T19:40:00.000-07:00

I vaguely remember that dating was hard. I remember the grudinging obedience with which I filled my once-a-month dating quota imposed by the bishop. I remember the frequent trips I made to the bathroom to make the minutes fly faster; I would do anything to avoid further conversation with the man I left at the table. I remember the botched relationships; the nights I stayed awake regretting my actions and belatedly realizing that I was accidentally a jerk.

But I also remember the hope. There was always the possibility: this time will be different, this time I'll have fun, this time I won't say something I'll regret. And I remember finally meeting someone. It had all the excitement and promise of the beginning of a great adventure.

But already I've distanced myself from that time. When my friends tell me about their current romantic predicaments I find myself thinking "Why don't they just get married? It seems to be the intelligent thing to do, it's more fun than being single and they don't have to endure dating." I forget that many of them really are trying to find someone. Nearly everyone wants someone, whether to marry or simply spend time with, no one intends to be alone.

I realize that a successful relationship is largely a matter of luck. I'm very zen in that respect. All you can do is prepare and wait. It's like trying to domesticate a stray cat. Maybe you have a specific cat in mind, or maybe you just want a cat in general. Either way all you can do is open the door and a can of tuna. And even if you do get the cat to come in it might leave or you may find that you don't really like that specific cat. A thousand things can go wrong.

It is miraculous that anyone manages to find anyone. People only get together through God and by force of sheer willpower. When it works, it's the single most important thing you will ever have. When it doesn't, it feels like another empty adventure. The most infuriating part is that all one can do is wait. The good news is that most people (especially Mormons) get married eventualy--if for no other reason than to avoid the social leprosy that comes when you hit 30. The better news is that, like it or not, if you make it to the celestial kingdom you're gonna get hitched. I suggest you find one now and call dibs so you can avoid being the fifth wife.

Domesticity

2009-09-17T20:19:00.000-07:00

Every now and then I worry that a matronly relief society president will show up and take away my wife card. I'm really much better at being a student than I am at doing the traditional "wifey" things. But now I have nothing to fear. I am firmly established as a domestic goddess for I have painted my apartment. Ok sure Shane and Chris helped with the manual labor part but I actually made grown up decisions concerning shininess and color. This is what passes for exciting in my life.

I also bought some flowers--not usual Laura behavior. Sure I didn't have a vase to put them in but it's the thought that counts.

But I worry that even this might not be enough. I went to relief society enrichment tonight while I was among the few who were truly proficient at sewing beanbags I realized that I had nothing to say to all the older, married, mothers/expecting mothers. I just have no common experiences to draw from. But I did try--you have to give me credit for that.

One of the ladies said "My baby looks so much like his father; he's just a little Mike."

To which I replied, "Babies typically look more like their fathers than their mothers when they're born."

And the conversation died there. What I didn't say was that I read this in an article about evolutionary psychology in which it explained that this was an adaptive skill. The more a baby looks like it's father the more likely it is to not be killed by said father who may question the paternity of the infant. But you just can't say that to a new mother who looks so sweet and happy--this information has no relevance to her because I've met her husband and he just isn't the type to commit infanticide.

Junior High Math

2009-08-18T19:01:00.000-07:00

Once again the universe bows to my will. I decreed that I would be cured of mono by the 17th of August and it was so. Now I must stop coddling myself, go forth and conquer. However my 8 week hibernation has left me weak and flabby, ergo the new exercise routine.

I'm mentally working out by studying for the GRE. All I have learned thus far is that I am incapable of doing junior high level math. I envision smart alec eight graders giggling as they condescend to explain how to multiply square roots with different bases.

I don't deny that math is useful. But I must confess, the fact that I never learned the multiplication tables hasn't hurt me in any way since I was fourteen. I've lived a rich fulfilling life free of the metric system and my quest for inner peace continues unhindered by my ignorance of quadratic equations.

There must be some practical application for math in my life. Other than doing calculations in my head instead of using a calculator I can't think of any. Yet I envy math people. They get paid significantly more than I will. I know I could master it if I really applied myself but I know I won't bother. I avoid the subject because I'm embarrassingly inept. And few things are more uncomfortable than feeling unintelligent.

http://xkcd.com/589/
relevant link

Retraction

2009-07-28T13:01:00.000-07:00

I take it back. Yesterday the doctor looked me in the eye and told me "you tested positive for pregnancy." One hour later it turned out to be a false alarm and I was never pregnant in the first place but still...that was an hour of sheer blind terror. I kept thinking "oh please no, not me, not now, anyone but me, I still have so much to do." Based on my reaction I think I can safely assume that I do NOT want kids anytime soon. My apologies for misinforming the general public.

http://xkcd.com/616/

Pioneer day...A Review

2009-07-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

I did everything on the to do list except say something too liberal. This side of Shane's family is less political so instead I listened to Shane's grandfather tell us about the three girlfriends he had right before his mission (before he met Shane's grandmother of course.) I guess the skills with the ladies runs in the family.

My body hates me, I got very little sleep. But it also hates me because my uterus feels especially vacant after seeing all the small children running around. I have the baby names picked out, I know a lot about fetal development and I've studied what parenting techniques are least likely to land the kid in therapy. I'm as emotionally prepared as I'm gonna get. But it's just the wrong time in my life, there's still graduate school, we have no money, I'm only twenty and why rush it? Still... Ian Scott Henriksen and Azure Karin Henriksen... Just saying it makes me want to hold something small and warm next to my heart. I find this urge a little disturbing.

Pioneer Day...A Forcast

2009-07-23T19:29:00.001-07:00

Apparently this is a big deal; they've canceled school and everything. I never really connected to pioneer stories in sacrament meeting--probably because my anscestors were a bit more *ahem* colorful. Shane and I are going down to Hinkley for the weekend to be with his HUGE extended family. I predict the following:

I will eat copious amount of saturated fat (it's a family gathering, it's unavoidable)
I will point at small children and say "how cute"
I will say something that the older people will consider radically liberal but they will be too polite to tell me so.
I will attend the rodeo and wonder how I grew up in the same country and have such a different culture.
I will attend a small town parade and fight the children for candy
I will get sunburned
I will hug people I have never met
I will wish that I had close extended family's like Shane.
I will remember who my extended family consists of and be grateful for the distance (in some cases but not all of course.)
I will enjoy myself

This should be an adventure. Wish me luck, last time I went Shane and I had just barely got together, now I'm "the wife." As the future mother of his children the family has a vested interest in me. If I don't perform well they might sack me and find a better wife for Shane.

I like to move it move it.

2009-07-15T19:02:00.000-07:00

Nearly everything I own is in a box--I love that feeling. I love picking up everything I own, giving half of it to DI, unpacking someplace new and making the space even better than my last apartment. I love moving into new wards where my jokes are still fresh, I get the attention of being the "new kid" and nobody knows what I bore my testimony about while high on painkillers. And I won't miss the cockroaches either.

Unfortunately I own stuff; wedding presents I haven't unpacked, mismatched furniture relatives donated, electronics, and I can't throw any of it away.

Conversation with my husband:
Me: I haven't used this laptop in months, it's so old it takes ten minutes to start up, we should donate it. (I envision this happy pile of junk I can eliminate from my life)
Shane: It's still good, we should keep it until we can sell it. (My happy junk pile gets smaller and my pile of junk I have to carry around with me gets bigger.)
Me: I don't know it's in really bad shape...
Shane: We could get some money out of it, while you're at it weren't you going to sell your wedding dress too?

Apparently it is not permissible for one to simply discard a wedding dress when one is done with it. Deep down I know he's right. We should keep the things that we can sell or use again some day in the distant future. It just makes me feel so...heavy. I liked having just enough stuff to fill the back of a truck (or car I can always throw more stuff away.) I liked knowing that if I had to I could pack and unpack within a day. Now I have a microwave and a computer desk and I'm afraid that I will never escape them.

Fruit Flavoring

2009-07-07T12:12:00.000-07:00

My tomato soup tastes nothing like a tomato. I wish my husband hadn't thrown away the can so I could examine what it does taste like. Cambell's have you betrayed my trust and stuffed your products with high-fructose corn syrup? And I'm part of the problem, I love orange soda but whenever I buy a real orange I let it sit for days and hope that Shane eats it so I don't have to--oranges are a lot of juicy sticky work. I love strawberry flavored anything but I never eat strawberries straight, the taste is a little too...something. Could it be that I just don't like unprocessed food? Coorporate America, you've won, you have me; at long last you have conditioned human tastebuds to hate real food. Now I'll just sit back and wait for the obese zombie apocalypse.

Daisy

2009-06-29T08:49:00.000-07:00

My Dad isn't one to do things halfway. In our last house he build himself a forge out of cinderblocks and his grandfather's bellows--he made me a pretty sweet knife, you should see it sometime. He just got his pilot's liscence and is flying around from one state to another dropping off my sister at her friend's house. I think he plans to build his own plane when he gets the time. All in all my Dad is pretty hardcore, I think Darth Vader is his ultimate hero, so when he got a dog he went all out.

We found Daisy in a cage when she was I'd guess 2 years old. My uncle in West Virginia has tons of dogs that he keeps penned up and Daisy was in there looking far too wild to be a pet. She's around 75% timber wolf and 25% german shepherd. She hit it off with Dad right away and he pulled a favor and got her from his brother. Mom took a bit longer to warm up to the idea. We drove cross country to Nebraska with her in the van with 5 kids. She looked miserable. We spent the time trying to come up with cooler names for her, "Daisy" seemed a bit too girly. But she answered to it so it stuck.

She was a holy terror in the house. Whenever we left her alone to go to church we'd come back to find all the cushions pulled off the couch, the potted tree pulled out and dragged across the carpet, magazines chewed, etc. We tried leaving her outside tied to a post. She chewed through the rope, she chewed through the chain. She was an escape artist--perhaps artist isn't the right word, if one of the kids had the door open just a bit she'd force her way past and run out the door. She was impossible to house train and she'd yank your arm off if you tried to take her on a walk. But it was her wildness that I loved, I felt like had a stronger spirit than most dogs.

She was always classy. Wolves are very classy people. But she got mellower as the years went on. She would still growl at strangers and put on a show of trying to escape so she could fight the other dogs but she didn't try to destroy the house or run away anymore. But she still wasn't like other dogs. She didn't beg for food so much as look at you until you felt that she deserved the food for being so patient. She was never much of a barker, more of a growler, and every morning when Dad yelled "come for the prayer" to get us up out of bed she'd howl--she was definitely a wolf.

They're putting her to sleep today. It's time, we've had her for 13 years and she's in a lot of pain. If there is a God and a heaven then she will be there. Somewhere in that part of the brain where I store my personal views on religion I feel that there should be a sealing ceremony for the family dog. A family isn't celestial without one.

Daisy, you're a good girl.

Ahhhhhh-dol-screaming fiery pain-lescence

2009-06-27T13:31:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a great deal about the teenage years-mine specifically. I'm taking an adolescent development class from my grad student/mentor/all around nice guy. And his style of teaching involves a great deal of class discussion and talking about what the subject means to us. So far I've managed to dodge the touchy subjects but one girl has already cried in class and I'm certain she won't be the last.

He asked us to write down what our adolescences were like; I wrote: tense, spiritual, isolating and confusing. He gave us fifteen minutes to answer and that was all I put, I didn't feel like expounding in an academic setting. I only like to share the funny things, like how I cut class all the time and still made the honor roll and how I was the singer/lyricist in a garage band. No one needs to know that when I cut class I just read a book, and my garage band only had one pathetic excuse of a performance.

During class discussion I was surprised at how many people said that they had an easy adolescence and were close to their parents. I'll have to ask them how they managed that. I did what I wanted and defended my position like a human rights attorney. I remember making the logical decision to steal my parent's car and pick up a drunk friend and just take the punishment afterwards--to me it made sense to potentially save a life in exchange for a few months of being grounded. I knew my parents would never just let me go so I decided that theft was my only option. I never had to actually do it but I was prepared to do what I thought was right regardless of the consequences. Now that I have easy access to a car and my parents don't make the rules it seems silly but I was always making decisions that I thought were ethical that inevitably ticked off someone else.

And I avoided my family because 65% of my interactions with them ended in some form of punishment, guilt or hurt feelings and I didn't know how to stop. Everything that I did seemed logical to me, but I didn't know how to play the game, suck up to the people in charge, make friends and say "yes sir" "no sir" "whatever you say sir." In a way I'm disappointed that I've learned so well since then.

I used to care a lot about doing what's right. I wouldn't submit to unethical treatment, I got very upset about the West's lack of involvement in preventing genocide, I was fiercely loyal to the people I loved and I was so passionate about the church. Now I'm friends with my parents, now when someone says something I disagree with I smile and nod, I still have my faith but I feel no need to defend it or spread it.

I didn't want to talk about my adolescence in class because when I think of that time it makes me feel vulnerable and immature. I don't have those problems anymore. I've exchanged my passion for comfort.

That's what you get for kissing boys

2009-06-23T18:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday they confirmed it that it was indeed mono. I looked heavenward, sighed and laughed. I think I scared the doctor, perhaps she thought I was a little manic. It just seems that of course this would happen. I'm a senior at a major university where swapping spit is the favorite pastime. Fate had to catch up with me.

It could be worse. It could have happened during the Fall semester when I'll be super busy. It could have happened when I get pregnant. I could have happened when I'm a busy mom and my husband is gone at work all day. Really I'm kind of lucky that this is happening during an easy semester, when my husband is home most of the day to help me, with no kids to worry about and no cold weather to avoid. The irony is that the day I was diagnosed I got a great job offer. It might kill me but I'll take it.

In class I told the teacher that I had mono and some students overheard and eyed me warily. I felt a little bad for going to class and endangering everyone's health. I told them that they would only get sick if I spit on them and I promised not to do that. I also need to avoid breathing on anyone's face. Later, someone tapped me on the shoulder and was about to hug me. I warned her "You probably shouldn't touch me--I have mono." She didn't speak to me after that. I hope I'm not being inconsiderate by going to class; but really I think I'll be fine. Maybe I should carry around a little bell and announce my presence by saying "Unclean, unclean!" whenever I walk into a room.

Death by Vacation

2009-06-20T10:16:00.000-07:00

Finals are completed, I've exhausted all the job leads I have, The house is pretty clean and finally I can relax. And yet why do I find myself staring at my empty to-do list with a sense of longing? I wish I would suddenly remember something very important and fulfilling that I had to do like: "Oh shoot, I forgot to turn on the laser defenses to keep Dr. Bad Guy contained in his lab. Now I have to go defeat him with my Sonic Boom powers and then spend the rest of the day cleaning up his toxic goo." Heck I'd be happy just to remember "Dangit, I needed to read a chapter of a stimulating textbook related to a subject I actually care about. To the bat cave!"

The truth is that I don't handle boredom well. My Dad once told me that my Grandfather died of retirement. I think I can understand that. When you have nothing to do all day there's no reason to get out of bed. The world can become a giant mass of nothingness and that nothingness grows until it threatens to consume all your passions and joys MWAHAHA!!! I need to become better at using my free time constructively. I need to take walks, write a book, read a book, do some yoga...anything. I played some tennis and I've spent some time with friends recently. But if I am not careful this vacation will kill me.

Why I Do the Things I Do

2009-06-16T13:28:00.000-07:00

I love to go to Tucanos...sure the food is good but I love it because I'm strangely attracted to men that bring me large slabs of meat.

I never cook asian food...I can't afford that many spices.

I can't sleep with the closet door open...maybe I don't want my subconscious to know that I'm messy.

The music I listen to is cooler than I actually am...I like it a lot but I'm also hoping it will rub off on me.

Anorexics scare me...not only is their intense self-hatred a little daunting but I feel like they think I'm fat.

I seldom have a point to my stories...sometimes when I talk I get a little nervous when I realize that people are actually listening and I wasn't saying anything...

I over use ellipses...my thoughts trail off, why shouldn't my writing reflect this?

I don't understand adolescence...if it's just a phase why does it last for nearly a decade and why are the bodily changes permanent?

I don't understand romance novels...even if I wanted to marry a perfect guy who always says the right thing wouldn't he be married to the perfect girl who always says the right thing? Wouldn't they be kind of boring people?

I frequently chastise female fictional characters...I really think they should be marrying the nice guy who has a job, emotional stability and the family's approval rather than running off with the mysterious, nomadic guy who in all probability will end up as a drunk bum no matter how idealistic they are.

I get mad at my phone...I'm always happy to hear from you, but the phone has some nerve to wake me up at 10AM.

I judge my blog entertainment value based on the number of comments I receive...hint hint.

Newsy Little Update

2009-06-13T17:04:00.000-07:00

I hiked Timpanogas mountain with a pulled hip muscle. I felt it for days but the view was lovely. I finished my tennis course; basically I'm a pro now. And there's only 3 pages and one test standing between me and the end of the semester.
I went to Las Vegas to see my brother in law Chris' graduation (I wish I was confident in my apostrophe usage.) Way to go Chris, he'll join us at BYU soon. While I was there I bumped into my highschool boyfriend. I was mortified. I told the family that he was a close friend from high school and I felt wierd all day after that. He's a good guy but he brought out the small, pathetic, and mediocre side of me--dating him is my greatest embarassment.
It was great to see Shane's family, and eat tons of food. I hope that one day I can have a family like theirs, they're so close and they like eachother too! The next morning we went to the temple, it was nice having all of us there together, but I think I broke the blow dryers.
On the way home I learned that Daisy was in the hospital, she's getting old and not doing so well. Daisy is the family wolf-dog, we've had her since I was eleven I think. I think she might die, if not now then I still think I won't get to ever see her again. I don't plan on going home for Christmas and she probably won't even last that long. I sobbed in the car, right in front of Shane and his sister Shelley. I don't normally do that but I've always treated Daisy as more than just a dog, and she always seemed to understand. It's a very significant death in the family and I think Dad's taking it pretty hard. I'll miss her. I don't want to write anymore.

Random Phobias

2009-05-26T18:32:00.000-07:00

I have bug bombed the house multiple times. I have pestered the landlord until he sent over an exterminator. I mop my floors with bleach and I go trigger happy with the amonia spray when I wipe down my counters. And still they live.
I find them in my closet, in my bath tub, on my clean dishes, under my bed and in various places where they have no business being. I want to cry every time I see one because one represents one hundred I haven't killed yet. After one crawled on my hand while I was cleaning today I snapped. I wanted to make a sandwich today but all I could picture were bugs crawling over my food. So I skipped breakfast and lunch. I waited until I went on campus and ordered a sub. Tonight I'm buying some styrofoam dishes and utensils. I'm tired of eating off things they've crawled on. If I use those and eat things straight out of their sealed container I should be fine.
I only plan on doing this until July when I move to an upstairs remodeled apartment I already have picked out. Still I'm afraid of becoming the crazy lady who cleans obsessively and sanitizes everything twice before using it. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. Normally I eat things off the floor and I really do believe that what doesn't kill you will likely improve your immune system. But for now I just can't stand the idea of those sticky little legs scuttling across the rim of my cup right where I put my lips.

Evolution...why are we still arguing?

2009-05-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

I think I'm going to Hell. I have two strikes against me: I'm Mormon and I LOVE evolution. Fundamentalist Christians could damn me for the first one alone, but with a combo like that even some Mormons would break out the pitch forks. In class today we had a pretty basic run down and as always the teacher opened the topic to debate. What is there to debate? It's a psychology class, we study empirical data and empirically it makes sense. If it was a religion class I could understand this but in a science class we study science. Besides, it's not like I haven't had this discussion in EVERY biology, psychology and ancient scripture class.
The discussion normally begins with the teacher telling us what we learned in high school presenting it as if it's not common knowledge. They act tentative but you know that they know that evolution makes sense. Most of the comments in the class come from those who accept (even if they don't fully understand) natural selection etc. An occasional creationist will say something and we all try not to offend them, bless their hearts. The discussions at BYU invariably end with most of the class taking the middle road and saying "God created man, probably through evolution though we don't know how to reconcile that with the Adam and Eve story in Genesis."
What I don't understand is why Mormons of all people should get so riled up about it. We believe in a God who loves all of His children and allows those who grew up in ignorance to learn truth after this life and return to Him. We believe in a God who uses reason and logic. We believe in a God who encourages us to find our own answers and seek after knowledge. So do we believe in a God who would damn His children for suggesting a plausible method whereby He created them? It makes no sense. The only "threat" this theory poses is when people use it as an excuse to disbelieve God entirely. And frankly, people always have reasons for that.
The 1991 Gallup poll (sorry I couldn't find anything more recent) indicated that 9% said man evolved without God's direct intervention, while 47% believed that God created man within the last 10,000 years. And like myself 40% believed that man had evolved over millions of years without but that God had a hand in the guiding process. (Root-Bernstein, Robert S. ( Sept 1995).Darwin's Rib. Discover. 41.)

Today I saw a video of small children singing a song about how evil evolution is. I can't help but think of the movie "Jesus Camp." It's that sort of narrow minded environment that produces the KKK, backwards hillbilly's and other extremes. I could be wrong about all this, but let's keep our options open--it's a really fun science.

God is Punishing me

2009-05-12T15:11:00.000-07:00

I was having a day o'doom yesterday, some medical problems popped up and I realized that I have no insurance but if I don't see a doctor it may result in evil. Luckily my parents bailed me out of that but I still can't see a doctor until Friday. So while I was pondering my potential death/paralysis/pregnancy I bumped a car.
The car was a bright yellow mustang, you could tell that someone loved this auto. I stepped out to examine and I couldn't tell if that scratch had been there before, it looked fairly minor. I was in a big rush because I had only 1 hour to study and take a test before my job interview. I found out that the test was 100 questions long; I took it in 40 minutes. I bombed it. When I went back to my car I saw a little yellow paint on my bumper--I was definitely responsible for the scratch. I justified it in my head--I can't afford to pay, it looks like they have money, it's only a little scratch maybe they won't notice etc. And I drove away
I went to the job interview, it was the one I had been so excited about--I would be working with the developmentally disabled in seminary and institute. It sounded great. When I arrived they told me that they don't couldn't actually pay me money; they could only give me class credit. I'm convinced that this is a direct result of dodging responsibility for the car. Karma is a jerk. I feel like anytime I get away with something it's always temporary. I'm going to be reborn as a moose.

Last night I dreamed that I stole money from the church.

Maybe a job WITH a lightsaber?

2009-05-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

So on the one hand I could get a job. For the past few months I've been sending in sporadic applications. Lately I've gotten serious and sent in 1.5 applications per day. No response. From anyone. So in reality I fail.

On the other hand I've rediscovered a childhood love: Star Wars Knight of the Old Republic!!! I played it when I was younger on my brother's computer but I never got to finish it. Now I can do so. So in my fantasy world I get to run around killing things, solving mysteries, finding ancient artifacts, hitting on a Republic Soldier who I'll probably hook up with later (as soon as he gets over his dead wife) and trying to convince my Jedi "master" to stay on the light side. How hard can it be? Don't listen to the half machine sith villians. Seriously, when you join the dark side you get ugly and no one likes an ugly jedi. Add an obnoxious Twi'lek teen, an exiled wookie, a couple droids, a mercenray and a crazy old renegade jedi who gives me romantic advice and it's basically a perfect set up.

Did I mention that I kill things?

Get a job? Play Star Wars? I think it's a no-brainer, especially I'm much more sucessful in the game.

For your perusal I've attached a few classic Star Wars Spin offs.

(yo mama)
http://video.yahoo.com/watch/3150121/8930769

(lava)
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2k11j_star-wars-parody_fun

Mmmm

2009-04-22T11:19:00.001-07:00

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

Mmmm

2009-04-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

I woke up early and actually felt good about it. I made myself look decent and cleaned the house BEFORE noon. In an hour or so Shane will be done with finals so his stress vibes will stop disrupting my vacation. It's impolite to study while your spouse/roommate is trying to relax. It throws off my chi.

So with all my extra time I've decided to start writing again. I decided in the second grade that I was going to be a writer and while I've always had other goals this one has been the hardest to shake.
What is need is a concrete goal: publish something.
And a time schedule: eventually.

So I'm trying some fantasy since it's the stuff I grew up on. The plot feels a little cliche but most fantasy is--I'm going to focus on character development and try not to feel self conscious about the magic swords, epic battles and spell casting. I guess I never really outgrew it.

Finals

2009-04-16T23:29:00.000-07:00

Yeah it's past midnight and I still haven't convinced myself to make dinner yet. Ive accomplished 7/9ths of the things on my to-do-list today so I think I'm off the hook, especially since dinner wasn't on the list. Shane's looking over my shoulder making remarkably unhelpful remarks about my self-preservation instinct. Yeah, well I was smart enough to marry a man who has sandwich making skills; I didn't factor in how selfish he is. Why won't you make me a delicious sandwich? Reading the scriptures can wait.

Speaking of things that can wait: finals. I've completed 1 final (and it's technically still a reading day, or at least it was half an hour ago) and I have 5 more to go. They seem manageable. I'm not terribly worried so I'm actually in a good position to make cookies for anyone who is terribly worried. So if you're afraid of losing your scholarship I'm a terrible study buddy but I give good hugs and make delicious cookies.

Oh yeah, food...

Before I leave, in keeping with my new tradition I'm posting a cool link.

http://www.watchtheguild.com/

Easter!!!

2009-04-13T12:38:00.000-07:00

We drove down to St. George. Shelly slept in the backseat while I read a Terry Pratchett book out loud to Shane. The sunlight and shadow made parts of the road bright as noon and other parts of the road looked like a home to hyenas--you must never go there Simba.
While in St. George we:

ATE
played tons of board games
went repelling down a mountain (yes, I went too, I'm so hardcore)
slept for 10 hours straight
searched for our hidden Easter baskets (thanks for finding mine for me boys)
Did an egg hunt
went to church
ATE MORE
said goodbye
headed home

In summary I love being around Shane's family. They still have small people banging around the house. Real homes are much nicer than apartment. In grown up houses people paint their walls, they decorate, they have gadgets and appliances and enough cups to go around. When I have friends over I make couples share cups. Most importantly it was nice to relax with people you love.

And since I love everyone who read my blog, here's a video for your perusal

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoyeQD9ztAE

Retraction

2009-03-19T15:56:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I was a touch dramatic; just a little. One of my C classes goes so far as to drop my lowest test grade, the other C class is on the borderline and easy to fix. I can live with a 3.7, especially if I do well on the GRE. I'm not going to Boston or Harvard etc. Even if I don't go to a graduate school I will be ok, I can feed my family with a bachelor's degree. People do it all the time.

The sun is shining, the grass is green and midterms are officially over. I have nothing but a few measly papers between me and finals. It feels great. I think I'll catch up on my other homework, clean the house and bake something delicious. Maybe I'll have an actual life now. Or maybe I'll blog more. either or.

Letting Go of the Future

2009-03-18T10:46:00.000-07:00

*disclaimer: depressing, may be unsuitable for those on mood-stabilizing medication, those with a history of heart failure or pregnant or nursing mothers.*

I failed. I got busy and cocky and caught up in another test and I got a 69% on a test in an easy class. I checked my grades online and I currently have two C's. I've never had a C at BYU. A C will keep me from graduate school. I only have a 3.6 GPA and the BYU program barely lets you slip in with a 3.7. If you have a 3.7 in a decent psychology graduate school you don't talk about it and change the subject whenever the question in raised. You hang your head in shame and hide the secret from your loved ones.

I checked with the online grade calculator--It is technically impossible for me to graduate with a respectable 3.8. I'll be lucky to get a 3.7.

Why is my life so defined by numbers? Why do they have the power over my future? If I can't manipulate the numbers and force them to go higher I will lose the life I've pushed myself towards for years. I had a plan. I was going to go to a good school, get my masters, do some private counseling, help people, work part time while I have children, and have a generally comfortable an fulfilling life.

Now I'm married and I won't go to grad school and I'll stay at home and have lots of good mormon babies. If Shane loses his job I can't aspire to be more than a secretary or some sort of office aide--I can't even type quickly! If my family ever depends on my income alone we will live in a trailor park with vinyl siding and cinderblocks on the tires.

Lasso

2009-03-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

Marriage
Pro:

I've never smiled so much
Snuggles!
Husbands are actually pretty tidy, I was expecting more male disgustingness and a lack of personal hygiene--thus far it has not manifested itself. Maybe boys are people too.
Someone to listen
Someone to hug
He tries everyday to make me happy
My best friend is perpetually available
My best friend is stuck with me
My best friend does indeed watch Saturday morning cartoons with me in his pajamas
I have a source of spontaneous compliments
He bought me Civilization IV and plays tag team with me
He'll hug me no matter how crazy I get
If I burst out into song he'll join
I love him

Con:

I have to get a job
It requires a level of maturity I do not posses
I may not go to graduate school, but still let's see what happens after I send in the applications
worry about getting pregnant
I feel like I have to work harder than ever before to keep up with him, I feel guilty for slacking because it's not just hurting me
Have to change my last name
I will spend the rest of my life explaining how to spell my last name
It messes with my perception of myself as an academic and career-driven individual, I may actually have to have children now. I'm a little embarrassed about cooking him dinner.

I'd say the pros vastly outweigh the cons--and this isn't even close to being an exhaustive list. The advice that I'm giving is that people should invest in a lasso. Stalk someone for a few days to determine compatability and if it's a match rope that sucker and drag 'em to the altar. I don't think that marriage works because you two are just so perfect for eachother; I think that's something you have to grow into. I think that marriage works because you are both trying your darndest to make the other person happy.

Now wish me luck, I'm off to study ancient christianity.

2009-02-04T20:19:00.000-08:00

http://xkcd.com/151/

Rush write:
Children's stories are harder than they look. Children are harder than they look. Who's idea are they? It seems like a lot of spit and drool and cuteness with very little productivity. What sort of culture allows a 25 period of maturation before contributing to society in a less than 100 year life span? The group liked my children's book. They said it reminded them of Monty Python but it was a little too surreal. They wanted an explanation for the fire-breathing deer.

I don't know what to do with depressed people. I have to do a case study with a depressed husband and a concerned and nagging wife. I always leave depressed people alone and hope that they either
A. Get better on their own
B. or with the help of people who aren't me
C. Don't get better at all
D. Seek help from me.
I only want to involve myself if they seek option D. And even then I can't do anything but listen and occassionally and carefully confront logical fallicies and contradictory or self destructive thought processes. Props for rational emotive therapy.

Single people have drama. I think I miss that. I hear them "does he like me?" "and then he kissed me but he hasn't called me back." "he doesn't even notice me." "his new girlfriend is such a slut." "he gave me herpes." No actually I don't think I'll miss the drama. *disclaimer: I do not have herpes*

I miss summer. Winter is a time of freezing. I freeze too. It was 45 degrees outside today and my heart thawed. The children were wandering around without coats and ducks were attacking eachother in the pond; we can expect ducklings soon.

Google ranks the importance of my page: 8/10. flattering but what a useless icon on my internet.

What's the point of having a fiance if you don't get to see him? Most days I see him around 10PM to midnight. Many days I can get some time during the day but there's always the knowledge that we have homework that NEEDS to be done and all the time together takes time from work. I oculd write my social psychology journal. I could write my lds family paper. I could study for my test. I won't. I'll do it during the day when I have energy and my head isn't so fuzzy and oppressively foggy. I have time. The papers are short the test looks easy. I'm so focused on getting married and the homework looks like a waste of time.

I was going to make dinner for Shane. He was supposed to be home now. It's a good thing he almost always stays a little later after work. I haven't started yet. He has a lot to do. Much mroe than I have to do and he seldom seems overwhelmed. How does he do it?

I also hate it when girls use "it's that time of the month" as an excuse. It's bad enough that guys ask "is it that time?" Girls use it to justify crazyness. Guys use it to excuse themselves for percieving girls as irrational. Let's not fuel the myth. Studies indicate that the crazyness is mostly expectations. If a doctor tells you to expect PMS then you get PMS and all the crankyness. If that doctors tells you that it's not "your time of the month" then you'll act normally even if it is that time. Pack up the red tent; we're moving out.

So Marriage yah?

2009-01-27T10:56:00.000-08:00

Being engaged isn't much fun. I wanted to elope. Shane was not supportive. My brother eloped. My parents eloped. All of my grandparents eloped. No divorces. No problem.
Now I have to make lots of decisions. I have to take care of little details like changing utilities and I'm perpetually worried that I'm forgetting something. I want to be married. I'm not so crazy about the wedding part. It's supposed to be "my special day." Forget that. It's a day I have to make special for other people. To be fair Shane's family is doing most of the work so I don't really have an excuse for being so stressed out.
But there's a cool aspect to all of this. I get to move in with my best friend. We can chill on Fridays order pizza and watch Avatar and the Office until it's Saturday morning. (yes my comma key is broken) Also I will inherit his computer and a car. I can tackle him for saying the wrong thing and I won't have to worry if it's inappropriate. I won't have to go over to "his place" and he won't have to come to mine. Eventually we can get a dog; maybe kids too but what I really want is a puppy. Mostly it means that I get to keep Shane--I want the opportunity to always love him.

Mason Dixon Line

2009-01-26T15:06:00.000-08:00

I don't much care for the civil war. States rights always seemed silly to me since I don't have a home state. I was born in Florida moved to Ohio, then Nebraska then West Virginia and now Utah. I barely remember Ohio. Nebraska's a little fuzzy; but West Virginia I spent 6 whole years in. I saw a lot of rebel wannabes and I viewed them with utter disdain. The flew the rebel flag, drove harleys, ate roadkill and never left their hometown. I considered myself better educated, less racist, more cosmopolitan and more hygienic. Besides, WV never left the union, it's not a southern state right?

Today I looked up the Mason Dixon line and lo and behold WV is right below it. it was a crushing blow to my self concept. I'm an Airforce girl. I'm not a southerner. If WV is southern then I've lived 8 years in the south. 7 years in the Midwest and 4 years in the North. ( I think my count is a little off but whatever.) Take into account that Mom's family is clearly southern and Dad's family is from WV! What if I am southern? I haven't examined all of the ramifications but I may have to devise a new answer when people ask me where I'm from.

Narnia

2008-12-29T20:43:00.000-08:00

I bought The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe movie for Dad and Mom bought him Prince Caspian. So we've watched them both recently and I borrowed the books from my sister, I haven't read them since I was a kid so it's a nice refresher for me. There's Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy the four siblings/kings and queens of Narnia. Then there's the obvious lion Christ figure Aslan. I hope this is ringing some bells.

I didn't terribly like the series when I was a kid, probably because my Dad had me watch a terrible BBC production of the books...that's the sort of thing to turn kids away from the classics. I especially hated Edmund. He was a whining, lying traitor who didn't do much and I thought he didn't really earn his position as King of Narnia, he barely escaped his fate as guilty captive.

At the time I was very young. I was very much like Edmund. I wasn't well liked in my family and I had an instinct for saying and doing the wrong thing and starting trouble for no particular reason. I fantasized about leaving my family and going somewhere extremely far away where they couldn't punish me anymore; I was in elementary school and I desperately wished for a place where I was liked despite my annoying nature. The White Witch offered Edmund a place like that and threw in the bonus of bossing around his siblings, why would he say no? Especially when they already disliked him? I hated Edmund because he was everything I refused to recognize in myself.

Unlike Edmund I'd never done anything seriously wrong. I was always in trouble and I felt constantly guilty but I'd never felt a real need for the Atonement. It wasn't until I got older that I messed up enough to really feel true shame. I had no excuses, not even an explanation. It was a total failure to do the right thing. I'd never understood that because previously my mistakes had been well meaning at best or just thoughtless at worst. But at that time I felt despair and need.

Previously I felt pretty smug. Having never really messed up I could wonder why people were so stupid. Why would Edmund betray everyone? I identified more with Peter, he's a nice guy, works hard, wins a battle goes home happy. I could understand forgiving people like Edmund, but putting him on an equal status as if he'd never really fallen seemed a little much. I thought that God was pretty harsh: if you mess up then you're not a good person anymore and there's no way you're forgiven until I finish punishing you. Experience taught me that the universe operated like that and C.S. Lewis was sweet but wrong.

Now I'm older. I don't live in the world of parents, teachers, time outs, and writing passive-aggressive sentences ("I am a disobedient child, I am wrong when I disobey. In the future I will obey and be a good person." Yeah, I still had to write that sort of thing when I was 16--I grew up thinking I was a bad person in a world created by a God of wrath.) The universe is kinder than grown-ups had scared me into believing. Like Edmund I've done things that were intentionally wrong, continued on that path and took my time before regret and realization put me back on track. Like Edmund I've needed someone to step in for me and pay for my mistakes. Edmund became a king without earning it. I'm living a happy life I don't deserve and couldn't possibly pay for. I'm grateful for the blessings that have come for free. I didn't think anything was free. But then again I didn't believe I was worth dying for either. Thank you.

Victory?

2008-12-28T19:37:00.000-08:00

Well I'm home for Christmas. I was bored silly with my roommates gone so I was really psyched to go see my family, roast some chestnuts over an open fire etc. My parents moved so I got to see the house in Alabama for the first time. My parent are excited to see me and we're trying to squeeze in lots of time together before I go home. My brother was in town for a while and I'm always glad to have him nearby. My sisters are too cool to be seen with me the uber-mormon but they grunt at me occasionally which is all I can ask for. Granmom is in town and buying me clothes and educating me on a variety of subjects.

That's the thing, all of my same-age relatives want nothing to do with me so I hang out with older relatives to break up the monotony of reading Elizabeth the First's biography (dang she got around.) Hanging out with older relatives has taught me that I am wrong on virtually every subject. Illegal immigration, civil rights, my marriage expectations...I have managed to be incorrect in all these areas and more. Then I went to church with my family and in Sunday school the class discussed good and evil. Younger people were silent and older people educated the congregation. The older generations seems to believe that homosexuals are a force of satan intentionally destroying all that normal decent people deem sacred...I think that's a little extreme.

I'm less conservative than previous generations. My opinions are are attributed to youth, ignorance, lack of experience and idealism. My opinions are also part of the destructive downward spiral of society that will eventually hearald in the apocolypse. The only solace that I have is that as I and my generation get older more and more of the decision makers will share my views. That is until I get old and my ideas are placed by younger flashier opinions. I guess I'll enjoy my day in the sun for as long as it lasts.

Engaged!

2008-11-17T16:44:00.000-08:00

So most of you already know that Shane and I became engaged on Saturday the 15th. He is awesome. The ring is awesome. The way he asked me is awesome.

I was on a date with Laken and Sanita my roommates from the summer, after we got dressed up and went out to dinner we went to a park to take roommate pictures. I suspected nothing. Laken remembers that her camera is in the car so they go back to get it and send me ahead to find a good spot. I see candles on the sidewalk and think to myself that someone died and the candles are a memorial and then I see Shane sitting on a park table. I thought he was taking a walk at night but then I saw the rose in his hand and I finally realized what was happening.
"Fancy meeting you here." He greets me.
"Uh-huh" I answer as he hands me a blanket.
"So you know that game 'she loves me, she loves me not'?" he asks while pulling off the rose petals.
I sit in bewilderment until he pulls off the last petal, in the center of the rose was the ring. his sister sewed it in. He pulls it out and gets down on one knee. And the rest is history.

We're planning to get married February the 16th on President's Day in the Las Vegas temple. That date is still subject to change. We'll have a reception in Provo after we get back from our honeymoon. I'm thrilled and I hope to see you there.

First real post

2008-11-13T15:28:00.001-08:00

My life revolves around my planner. If you ask me what I did yesterday I can't answer you immediately without first verifying it with that little book. Judging by my planner the only things I have done recently are go to school, do homework, be a research assistant, be a teacher assistant and fail at the job search. However if I flip the page backwards I can see that I had two dates scheduled with Shane, I took him to the Preference dance and I attempted swing all night. That was as always an adventure. On Saturday I took him to the Chorus show, it was a night of British flags, tiaras, Disney princesses and veils mysteriously appearing into the hands of women who have no pockets. This weekend looks equally promising.

On another note I didn't go to school on Tuesday. I wasn't deathly ill but I wasn't feeling well either. A thousand things were due so I stayed home and got the majority of them done. Aside from that I haven't skipped a day of class so I don't feel too bad.

Intro

2008-11-13T14:59:00.000-08:00

I assume that you know me if you're reading my blog. If not you're a creeper. This isn't meant to be an informed opinion or even a rant on anything. I don't flatter myself by believing that I'm that entertaining. This is just an update on my life; I'll start by introducing myself.

I am: Laura, a junior psychology major at BYU, LDS, a fan of standup comedy, a dabbler in martial arts (and crafts), that girl who sits near the front of the class and raises her hand too often, stunning, and dating Shane.

That just about covers it. Also I'm not going to be cryptic. Atê, the name of my blog, is the goddess of "Delusion, Blind Folly and Rash Action." I found it appropriate.