Thoughts on My Former Life

Washington DC Temple - Mormons get married here.

When I was a child, like all children, I believed everything my parents and most other adults told me. But, unlike most of my friends, I was being raised by Mormon converts. My father converted to Mormonism in the late 1960s after his commanding officer in Viet-Nam noticed that he wasn’t attending church services on Sundays and invited my father to join him – he was baptized there. My mother converted in 1972 after her brother and sister-in-law joined and encouraged her to do the same. My parents met at a church dance when my dad was stationed at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina, they got married seven months later.

I remember getting into arguments with my non-Mormon friends about religion. I was convinced that I was right and they were wrong, and this spilled over into most aspects of my life. I wasn’t taught to believe the church was true, I was taught that it was true – to know the truth. Therein lies the difference. I believe that I’m going to live to see tomorrow, but I know it. As with anything I’ve since learned that I can’t really know anything. Everything changes, and what was true yesterday may not be true tomorrow. Perhaps I’m being cynical, but I’m rarely disappointed.

With all the hubbub surrounding Mitt Romney and Jon Huntsman’s presidential bids, it’s shed an interesting light on the Mormon experience. I personally don’t concern myself with the religious affiliation of those running for any office, because it doesn’t matter to me. However, I do see this as an opportunity for the Mormon church to do more than the “I’m a Mormon” campaign. Being Mormon means more than believing that a prophet is currently alive and can literally speak for God, more than the beliefs is the culture.

Mormons go to church each Sunday and refer to one another as “brother” and “sister.” They are taught that the second coming of Christ cannot happen until all the spirits waiting in heaven have received bodies here on Earth, hence their large families and the church’s former policies against contraception (they now leave family planning to couples to decide over prayer as large families began to drain the church welfare system). They believe that men and women have equal, but different roles, and those “different” roles are what lead outsiders (and insiders) to think that the role of the woman is to remain supplicant to the man. If you have questions, it’s best not to ask them because only those who aren’t devoted to the Church, and to God could question it, and you don’t want other members to talk about your wavering faith. Though, if you do ask a question that doesn’t have an answer you’ll probably be told that the answer has yet to be revealed to a modern day prophet and that God will reveal that knowledge when the time is right.

In yesterday’s Washington Post Carrie Sheffield wrote about her experience within the church and out of it. And I can agree with everything she has to say. Though, unlike her I started questioning the church in middle school. When boys and girls turn 12, they graduate from Primary – essentially a time each Sunday for children to sing fun songs about god – to the Young Men or young Women’s organizations. There we’re taught about our roles within the church and society and how we can be good members of the church within those roles. This is to say, I was told that women should go to college, to get an education “just in case” anything should happen to my future husband that would require me to work outside the home. And that my first responsibility was to my husband and then my children, and that I should only grow up to work outside the home if absolutely necessary.

That wasn’t the life I had envisioned for my future. My parents allowed me to develop a slight obsession with Frank Lloyd Wright, and I wanted to be an Architect. If my mom could do it all, why couldn’t I? Why shouldn’t I? I’ve never been very receptive to being told what to do if I can’t see it directly benefiting me. I like making my own decision and not having ridiculous rules set in place for me to follow. In the summertime I liked wearing shorts, but once I hit puberty suddenly everything was too short. “Modesty” is defined as wearing clothing that isn’t “revealing” – shirts must completely cover your back and stomach no matter how you move, skirts and pants must cover the knee, and shirts must cover the shoulder – all of this is to prepare you for temple marriage and the “special underwear” you will one day wear. That’s fine, but it’s presented as a choice, but nothing in Mormonism is really a choice.

Your choice is to do what you’re “supposed to do” or not be a member in good standing, which goes on your church record and will affect what callings (job) you may have at church and ultimately if you’ll get into Heaven. It is often said that you should “be in the world, but not of the world.” Though many have taken that to an extreme as to ostracize those who do not believe, and do not act the same way you do. Members of the church are more than happy to welcome you into the fold, but as soon as you question something, or express a difference in opinion, those friends you’ve made can be gone. Because if you’re choice to live life in such a way that makes you happy, is not the prescribed method for happiness as proclaimed by the church – it is wrong.

If you leave, or “fall away,” you have to be prepared to not have those friends anymore. The beliefs of the church aren’t so different from other Christian faiths, but the culture is among the most uniform and extreme. It’s not enough to share the same basic beliefs if you don’t practice them in the same way. And if you come to the realization that it’s all bull pucky, well, they will mourn your loss and discuss it in the hallway as though you took up heroin and need to go to rehab. Because how could anyone not be happy living the way that they do?

It does seem appealing, and I understand that living that way works for a lot of people. But it didn’t make me happy. Leaving the Church was like having a boulder lifted off my back. The anxiety, the depression, the consistency of never being good enough – that was gone. I still feel these things from time to time, but not because I feel inadequate trying to reach some ideal that’s been decided for me, I feel that way because I know who I want to be and I haven’t reached become her yet.  

Procreation Starts With Prayer

I spent the first eighteen years of my life learning about marriage and what a woman's role within those sacred confines means. My brother served a mission for the Mormon church and got married less than a year after he returned, as the Church encourages all Return Missionaries (RMs) to do. This was, and to my parents still very much is the ideal.

Recently I was discussing sleeping-bags with my dad, and he offered to buy me a new one. But I am very picky about these things and told him that I wanted a specific one, one that cost about three hundred dollars. His response was, "well I want you go marry a Return Missionary." This has become his response to my expressing most any desire. As the cliche goes, "it's nice to want things," and he and I want very different things for me.

My mother is more passive about it. She will call me and tell me about a former friend or acquaintance who is getting married, AND they're getting married in the temple, or they're having a baby with the person they married in the temple, or even "so-and-so has started dating someone, they are Mormon." That is great for them. I am so happy that someone else has found something that makes them happy, and that they found someone else who is also made happy by that same thing, but I'm not interested in being sent pictures from their weddings, or of their babies. 

One of my best friends from childhood got married almost two years ago. A girl I grew up with had her first kid about a month ago, with her RM husband. Another former friend got married last month and my ex-best friend is getting married next week. This means that they will all be procreating the entire time I'm busy avoiding responsibility, so for at least the next decade of our lives. Don't get me wrong, I like babies, but few that aren't related to me, and I imagine, if I'm not keen on their parents, their chances dwindle significantly.


Mom: "You know So-and-so's baby is due..."

Me: "That's great, but I really don't care."

Mom: "Well, I just thought you'd want to know."

Me: "Nope!"

Mom: "But you were close growing up."

Me: "No. We weren't. Mom, I am not interested in hearing about her or anyone else' wedding plans, dating lives, or pregnancies. They aren't a part of my life anymore for a reason."

Mom: "I can see now is not a good time, I'll let you go."

Me: "Thank God."

This did not stop my mom from sending me a picture message from a reception a week later.

End Times: The Rapture

FUN!

Tomorrow, or today depending on where you are in the world, bodys and/or spirits are supposedly ascending up to heaven to hang out with Jesus for The Rapture. I'm pretty stoked about this. I mean, I spent the first eightteen years of my life going to church every week, my summers going to multiple Mormon camps, high school getting up early to attend a religious class before school every day and youth events multiple evenings each week. All of this is to say, that when I let that one dude put his hand up my shirt that one time when I was fifteen, started drinking alcoholic beverages and dancing around naked on friends' roofs, I'm pretty sure that I gave up, what obviously would have been a free pass to heaven. Though, I do bake people things and I think that should count for something.

Though, since I'm not going to be ascending to heaven anytime in the next thirty-six hours, I am really looking forward to several things, but mostly the end of people screaming at me in public places or passing out propaganda. Guys, Mormons train their youth to be missionaries from a very young age, and I have had to knock on strangers doors bringing them the good news under the umbrella of a "Youth Activity." Why anyone willingly does this is beyond me.

When we're left behind, there won't be anyone to tell us to turn our music down, or that out outfit shows too much skin, however, there will be pundits and politicians. I know Glenn Beck thinks he's getting into heaven, but I'm pretty sure he'll still be here, so will Palin, and O'Reilly, I'm pretty bummed out about it. In fact, just thinking about it makes me wish that I had not had any fun ever, but then I also never watch Fox news so I think I'm good. And by good, I mean, I don't watch Fox news, so I'm totally getting into Heaven.

Bad Influence

When my friend, E moved to DC a couple months ago she kept talking about meeting new people because she had "burned so many bridges" in Richmond. E and I have known each other since high school, but were equally annoyed by each other then. It wasn't until I moved to Richmond to attend VCU that she and I became friends. After a bunch of haphazard encounters we finally started hanging out on purpose.

A few weeks ago we were exchanging stories of our childhoods. She told me about how making friends was a game to her as a child, she would go places determined to make as many friends as she could and fully aware that she would never see these other children again. It didn't bother her, she just figured she'd make new friends later.

I was the exact opposite. I had a few very good friends at any one time. My kindergarten best friend was a girl named Kimberly who would get upset with me daily, usually at lunch or recess, and tell me that we weren't friends anymore. And every day as we stepped on the bus she would ask if we could be friends again. Of course we could, I had never considered us not to be friends anyway. I'm still this way. I could list the number of people I've had legitaimate falling-outs with on one hand.

E doesn't disregard her friends, quite the opposite, and I think this is why we're friends, she just doesn't allow herself to deal with other people's problems and projections. That's not to say that she isn't there for her friends in their time of need, she is, but she also isn't going to let you go on about things that don't matter for weeks on end. It's healthier.

I have only recently been okay with letting go of relationships. I don't do it well, and I tend to hold on for far too long. My, now ex-best friend, and I had not had a decent conversation for months. The last of which she had told me about the possibility of her getting engaged. Then I was supposed to visit her and things fell through, and then I saw her briefly at church of Christmas but she insisted that she was busy the entire time she was home, and it wasn't until after New Year's when we finally had it out, via G-Chat. Seriously.

The Ex-bff is still a practicing Mormon. She has never been particularly good at communicating her feelings, she's always taken the passive route whereas I take everything head on. We grew up together. We sang duets almost annually at church Christmas parties and planned youth activities together because we didn't trust (like) anyone else's judgment in where the balloons should be placed for youth dances, or what songs should be put in the Mormon-camp song book. We never had that much in common, but we complimented each other well and enjoyed making fun on the same people. She was really the only reason I went to church in high school, and she was fully aware of that.

It wasn't until we had this G-Chat conversation that I realized how much she disapproved of my life. It came out of nowhere, we hadn't talked, what did she know? She explained that she had tried to be subtle before, I had no recollection of this. She said that I was "self-destructive" and "let people walk all over me." She was the first one I told after I had sex for the first time, but I never expected her to go out and do the same. I never expected her to do any of the things I did.

She recently got engaged. He was, is, her first kiss. And from what my mother has told me, she has quite grad school. I haven't talked to her about it. She made it very clear that she had no interest in having me be a part of her life anymore, which hurt, a lot - I cried all day that day, and then it was over. I haven't talked to her about the engagement, but part of me can't help but think about all of her ambition. I don't think it just went away, I just can't believe that she gave up going to the best school in the country for her program to get married. But then, we don't really know each other anymore. Apparently she's changed just as much as I have.

E had a similar experience around the same time and we both decided that we were part of people's resolutions to rid their lives of "negative" influences. Good riddance. Thankfully E and I negatively influence each other regularly.

On Being Christlike

My sister April and I are very similar in a lot of ways and quite opposite in others (politics, for example). Last night she came over and while we were downloading CD's to my computer to put on her ipod because her computer's disc drive is broken, we were Facebook stalking people(that we totally don't make fun of). YOU KNOW YOU DO IT TOO.

We are totally going to hell.

Anyway, upon seeing one picture:

(Someone thought that they were being creative. They thought wrong.)

Me: Do you see that?
April: The window treatment?
Me: Yes.
April: It's terrible.
Me: That's what they did at some church activity about living within your means.
April: Yeah, and the other roommates are too busy trying to be Christlike to tell them how bad it is.

We have given up on trying to be Christlike, I mean my sister is a Republican. And Christ was totally a Socialist (Hello bread and fish parable!). I'm a Libertarian, so I'm like halfassing the whole Christlike thing.

I apparently made one of my youth leaders cry after commenting on her dress. Another leader told me about it later. I would feel bad, but she totally dresses better now. Though, I have since learned to be more tactful. I think. I'm probably in denial about that.

the most important thing besides breakfast

I used to not understand why all my friends were down with hanging out with their families for long periods of time. I do now. I may still be the youngest and the butt of most jokes, but they really are all we've got. And it was wonderful seeing them yesterday. Ella's so tall, and loud and rambuncious. Archer is so quiet and timid, they are complete foils of each other.

Yesterday we all went to church, all of us. And because I forgot the dress I was going to wear I wore a hot pink Calvin Klein number that my mom "thought (I'd) like, but if you don't I can wear it" - it was a size too big and I looked like a giant Easter egg. I like hot pink, but not that much hot pink in one place, on one person.

Being at church is strange, there are so man new people and the old ones always ask about things they shouldn't. I just don't get it. I got asked if I was still going to church, and I'm not even going to walk around it, I'm not, but why would someone ask that when they know what the answer is and ruin a completely good conversation? The siblings, spouses and I left after the first hour to "help the Easter Bunny."

We played scrabble, team scrabble, except I'm not married nor do I have a boyfriend, so I was by myself. And I lost horribly, thank you Z, Q and J.

My parents came home with the grandkids about half an hour after we hid the eggs. Ella is very competitive and Archer isn't usually, but with some encouragement he caught up and even did the bragging song and dance when he found eggs that Ella had missed.

Dinner was relatively short, but fantastic. My mom told us how grateful she was to have all of us home and it was. It was really great. I see April and her husband Steven fairly often because they live in Richmond, too. But my brothers, hardly ever. Steven (my brother) is a pilot and he and his wife Lessa and their daughter Ella live in Arizona. I see Lessa and Ella more often than I see him because of his crazy work schedule. My other brother Joseph and his wife Laiene live in San Sebastain, Spain. I probably see them both twice a year, but hardly ever are they here together.

After dinner we sang April 'Happy Birthday' (her birthday was this past week) and played Loaded Questions. Have I mentioned that my family is big on board games? Because we are. I don't understand why people don't play them more often. When I get my apartment the eight-year-old in me is going to beg everyone that walks through my door to play Sorry!

BOO!

There has been a "preacher" on the Compass for the past couple of days. I'm used to the Evangelists coming to campus, passing stuff out, standing somewhere with their megaphone and telling me and everyone within a fifty-foot radius that we need to repent, but this guy is different. He not only goes on about how we need to be repentant, but he also goes off about how evil everyone else is. He literally said that we're spawn of the devil and unless we repent we're going to hell.

Now, boys and girls, I am by no means religious, but I do like to know what I'm talking about and respect everyone's right to worship, who, how, and what they please. I have read the Bible (GASP!) and I know for a fact that it does not say that we are spawn from the devil. I get irritated when I hear people that are so ignorant. I mean fine, you think I'm going to hell because I don't go around yelling at people to repent, but if you're going to yell at me please know what you're yelling about. And if you want me to stop and listen, please know that yelling is not the way to go about getting anything accomplished ever.

Monday he spent all day going on a tirade about how evil homosexuals are. I still do not understand this. I mean sure, the Bible does talk about how sodomy is wrong, but it does not explicitly say that having those feelings are wrong. It says that acting on those feelings is wrong. There is a huge difference. And besides there are so many twisted, ridiculous things in the Old Testament, it amazes me that anyone can go through and pick out one thing that they find particularly sinful and ignore the rest. And I find it infuriating that Evangelicals have decided that it's okay for them to condemn others to hell while contradicting everything they claim they believe, claim that they live, by doing so.

Yesterday there were some Mormon missionaries also at the compass. They were standing on the opposite side talking with a small group of students while the preacher was going on about how evil they were. At one point saying that Joseph Smith worshiped the devil and that Mormons are racist. There were also cops standing to the side, I suppose making sure that nothing got out of hand.

I went up to missionaries and asked why the cops were there and if anything had happened. They said no, and introduced themselves. I apologized for them having to hear all that stuff, and one invited me to come to church on Sunday. Cute.

I make a point of not mentioning my upbringing to people, especially if I know someone is Mormon. I can't stand knowing that in their head they're trying to figure out how, or hoping that I'll "come back to the fold." And while I have my reasons for not going to church anymore, and all sorts of problems with organized religion, I can't stand seeing anyone patronize another's beliefs. And as much as I feel silly believing in God and Jesus, it's something that I can't shake. It seems that people do compare it to beliving in Santa and the toothfairy, and I understand that, I do. It's just that I've never wanted proof. I suppose if I did expect for something big, I wouldn't believe either, and I understand why the majority of the people that I know and associate with don't believe. And that's fine, but it's something that I prefer to not talk about.

Religion and belief systems are so personal and everyone is so affected by them, I just feel it's better to only share when asked. Nothing turns me off like someone trying to convince me to think like they do. Beliefs are simply that, they don't need proof, they aren't based on knowledge, they're feelings that you or I are comfortable with. And as far as I'm concerned, as long as we're all trying to be the best we can, none of that other stuff really matters.

stupid sleeves

Last night I was looking at pictures that one of my old roommates from mormon-camp (EFY) had posted. They were of her sister's wedding.

My current roommate, Jessica, was also raised in the Mormon Church, and we both hate typical Mormon fashion. In the pictures were dresses that looked just how they always look, boring. They all had the exact same shape, despite different body types, and the same horrible sleeves* and of course dreadful neckline.

If you have ever been to any sort of formal event where you are surrounded mostly by mormons you will notice that they are all dressed in a very similar way. I mean, guys are typically required to wear a suit of some kind for a formal situation, and girls, a dress. But dresses typically have more personality, I'm not saying that they can't be modest, I just don't understand why they all have to use the exact same pattern.

Looking at these you will see what I'm talking about. I mean really, couldn't they at least make some with long sleeves? or three-quarter length (though, one would have to be very careful with those because they are very easy to screw up in formal wear). **

I'm not even going to get into prom dresses, except the colors are horrible.

*Sleeves are required to cover the shoulders at all times. That's fine, whatever. But when I see girls wearing a shirt under a sundress, I really wonder why they didn't choose the cuter option of wearing a cardigan. Not to mention that capped sleeves really get old after awhile, and because of the way they are situated on any garment they usually aren't flattering because most people don't have toned upper-arms.

**As Ben pointed out that site does. But you will notice that their version of long sleeves is very similar to that of a wizard, and are overall hideous. My point in that specific link was to point out how similar all of the dresses are. Of course someone could argue that all wedding dresses look similar because they are formal and white, but these just don't have any personality.

reason #98792 why I hate going to church

I would have posted this on Sunday, but Verizon decided to screw over everyone who has Earthlink, Thanks Verizon!

Setting: couch in the foyer at church, during Sunday School hour - Me, Elizabeth and Scott (mostly ragging on his sister - one of our favorite activites, we know we're going to hell)

Crazy Lady with a Baby with a ridiculous name: Why aren't you in Sunday school?
Us: Why aren't you?
CL: ...because I've got a baby.
Us: so?
CL: You don't...Why do you even come?
Us: (blank stares)
Me: ...because I have to, and it makes my parents happy.
Scott: To set the example for my younger siblings.
CL: Why don't you give it (the church) a chance? Elizabeth this isn't directed at you.
Me and Scott: We have, for eighteen years?
CL: but have you really?
M&S: Yes.
Me: It's different for you, you weren't raised in the church.
CL: So, you're giving up after eighteen years?
M&S: sure.
CL: So, what if God said that he was giving up on you after eighteen years? (her face turns to a sneer and she walks off)

We proceed to talk about how ridiculous that whole thing was. Seriously, Scott and I are really great kids by normal people standards aka, people that are happy their kids aren't doing drugs or getting knocked up, etc.

Scott and I both work two jobs, go to school, and somehow manage to find some downtime - though mine is usually spent in DC. Neither of us are into parties, at least not the typical high school type, we're pretty responsible overall.

It drives me absolutely batty that that woman feels that it is her right, as some "youth leader" to be such a jerk. I love that she automatically assumed that we've given up on God. And who is she to make that assumption, or think that we owe her and explanation?

For the record, if you haven't gather thus far from this site, I do believe in God (and Jesus) and am just not a fan of organized religion.

It amazes me how hypocritical the women (not all of them) at church are. This is someone who has heard stuff from her daughters, and that's just stupid gossip.

Stereotypical "Jack Mormons" leave the church after getting caught up in those high school parties I mentioned earlier, the enjoy getting drunk, getting high, and knocking up some girl, or if they are a girl - they get knocked up, or addicted to something, etc. Scott and I do not fit that stereotype at all.

One day these gossip queen's (even Scott's mom gossips about him, rather than forming a healthy relationship with him, not that she could have one because she's pretty much fucked that up for good, or at least the nest five years) will practice what they preach...or not, probably never, but despite my dislike for them, I will not go out of my way to corrupt their kids. For that they should be appreciative, not that I'd really "corrupt" them, I'd simply make them normal, you know, help them deal with being a kid, let them know that it's okay to question, that it's okay to feel all kinds of feelings, that it's alright to disagree with your parents - but your life will be so much better if you don't yell at them, learn to keep your cool - all the things that I've had to figure out on my own. God Bless them, they'll need it.

My Dad is crazy: 1

My dad "hired" two guys on the street to clean the gutters for him. They're juniors and play basketball at out end of the court just about everyday.

They cleaned the gutter over our porch the other day and the one at the top of our house today.

I'm sitting inside with the windows open and can hear this dialog outside:

Dad: Hey Joseph, is there a church that your family attends regularly?
Joe: Yeah, every Sunday.
D: How would you like to attend the Church Of Jesus Christ? It's close by.
J: Oh, we're Christian. I think my parents like the church we go to.
D: But this one is just down the road, on the corner of Springwoods and Old Bridge...
J: I don't mind the one we go to either.
D: Well, why aren't you revolting? Isn't that what teenager are supposed to do.

That's when I stopped listening.

The Guilt Trip that lasts a lifetime

Just a moment ago, well now it's been about half an hour, my Dad came upstairs while I was busy facebooking (that is so a verb) my friend Theresa about how much I hate a certain teacher and said in passing, "So, you've been lying to us?" I know what I'm about to say sounds bad, and that I'm a cruel person and want my parents to suffer, blahblahblah, but I smirked. Because I knew exactly what he was talking about. Seminary. (that mormon class that I've gone to most school days for the past four years)

I don't hate anything more than getting up earlier than I have to on a school day. I don't have to be at school until 8:30! I should be able to go to be every night at midnight and get a full eight hours of sleep. BUT, NO! I have had my sleep interrupted every day at approximately 5:40 AM by my dad. Seriously, is that really necessary? He opens my door (one would think he would knock after a certain incident a few years ago, how does he know that last night wasn't the night that i started to sleep nekid? how does he know if I've got my knickers on?), turns on the light, let's Emmy out (the dog), leaves my door open, proceeds to walk by my door about 23984729 times saying, "TIME TO GET UP!" OR "TIME FOR SEMINARY!", each time a little louder, a slight aggitation in his voice, until i get up - go to the bathroom and proceed to pretend that I'm relieving myself when really I'm catching a few more Z's.

And everyday, I leave. I might go, I might not. The 'rents don't know. They just assume such, because, where else do i have to go? Nowhere. And they would be right. I don't go anywhere, except maybe Panera for the occasionaly bagel, or the gym, but mostly I just drive and listen to my music - and make sure I'm back by seven.

I've been pretending to go to avoid the argument. I'm not generally a passive person, in fact I'm quite the opposite, but when it comes to things religious, no matter how trivial, I just assume avoid it completely to keep the peace. And, eventually they will find out, be disappointed and feel that they have failed and that there is nothing they can do anymore. In layman's terms, I've won my battle.

So, going back to my dad's comment. I didn't lie. I simply left every morning. They were the one's assuming that i was going to seminary, I never actually said, "I'm going to seminary." But then, of course those that feel the need to be technical will point out that this was a "white lie," a lie by omission, that I did this with the intention of being deceitful. They would be right, but I've never been one to stick to technicalities.

Here's the deal about this whole Mormon Thing, as I call it. I don't hate the Church. I don't hate the people (well, not most of them anyway) I simply have a difference of opinion, and wish to leave it at that. I've tried explaining myself to everyone, multiple times, but it's useless and it's a waste of everyone's time. I just wish that my parents wouldn't down themselves so much or feel that they've somehow failed me as a parent because I didn't end up how I was supposed to.

Unfortunately, my parents will make me feel guilty about this for the rest of my life. For example, "You'll be the first Pittman not to graduate from seminary." I will also be the first Pittman to function a bit better because I will be waking up at least an hour later and therefore putting myself in a better mood for many, many, days in the near and distant future. I will also be sick less. I will also be putting this precious time to good use, for things such as sleep, catching some Z's, catching more Z's, occasionally waking up that early anyway to do homework, eating breakfast, sleeping, and getting enough sleep. (One would think that my dad would understand how important sleep is considering his admiration for it)

My parents don't say or do things directly to make their kids feel bad. Ever. And anyone who knows my family should know. My parents go out of their way. They ask us to read the scriptures, even those of us who haven't been to church in ten years, when it's obvious we don't want to be there. Or they'll ask us to say the prayer when our friends are over. Or ask us to help them with the dinner they're making for that family in the ward whose mother is sick, and isn't it so nice that our church has that type of community? that we know we can rely on one another? isn't it great? Well, Mom, no It's not because I don't know her, or her husband...he's the tall guy with the brown hair that he...or her kids, nor do I care. I'm sorry, but I DON'T KNOW THEM! Why aren't they're friends helping them? we are their friends... no, no we're not. I am not thier friend. I didn't even know who they were until today...

And it goes on for awhile like that.

I really wish that I went to one of those churches where everyone magically appears for an hour and then launches out the front door as soon as the service was over. Instead, everyone knows who I am, that I'm a Pittman, that I did not go to mutual this past week, or to the dance last night. They know everything, and for awhile, I was okay with it, I know how to deal, but really, should I have to? Should I have to do something just to maintain the peace? Should I have to pretend to like people I can't stand? Should I have to make friendly conversation with someone who likes my dress, and thinks I'm pretty, but is thinking "what a skank" in their heads? I know this by the looks I receive, by the hushed comments relayed as I pass a group of gossips - gossips who believe in being kind, and non-judgemental, and are just so humbled - bullshit.

I hate having people that I don't want or choose to know, know who I am, who I'm related to, where I live, etc. I didn't invite these people into my life, and somehow they feel it's their right to ask me what grades i got on my report card, or mention that Johnny told them that "Amanda sleeps in seminary."

Mind you, because of my upbringing I have my closest friends, some church-going, and some not, others just go for the food.

I hope that when I have kids of my own, I'll remember this, and I won't (to quote a church hymn) "force the human mind."

And so, Amanda the last hope, has done it once again, she's disappointed the people that love her most. But for the record, she didn't do it on purpose and she does feel bad that they're hurt and she hopes that one day they'll stop beating themselves up about it.

Happy Endings

so i'm listening to Samson by regina spektor, and christina and i have talked about it before, but the more i listen to it, the more i think about how god has a plan for us, and while that may be true, what if we don't want it, what if we want something different? what if Samson didn't want the power he was given? what if he really loved delilah? what if he fell to the natural man, and knew it, and was okay with it? what's so wrong with the man god created anyway? i think i'm doing alright. and i'm okay with being "rebellious," and the bible not mentioning me, because right now, i have books in mind that i will be mentioned in that people will want to read. they may not be written by prophets, but whose to say that i'm not a prophet, making predictions based on my intuition, i'm very much a prophet of my life. and right now that's so important, because no one else can really be right about me if not me. and one day the world'll read about me and they'll realize that this, this ridiculous perception they have about what they're doing here, may be right if they believe it's right for them, and if they question it, then it's not, and that's okay. because in the end everything is okay, it's always okay, there's always an end, and even tragedies have happy endings.

samson - regina spektor

I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed
And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light
Your hair was long when we first met

[ Samson lyrics found on http://www.completealbumlyrics.com ]
Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed
Oh I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
and kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light
and he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

Samson went back to bed
not much hair left on his head
Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed
Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one
And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall