A Return to Form - Part 2

When I said "shortly," I wasn't kidding. This section of my story is less... fluffy. And it is certain to piss everyone off.

*cracks knuckles* Let's do this thing...

***
Alex was born early on a Saturday morning. We didn't leave the hospital until Wednesday afternoon-almost-evening. We stayed at the hospital until Alex was discharged. I had already been released, but they let us stay in a room while Alex was monitored. Tuesday is when I got the email that I'd been let go from my job.

I think I knew it was coming, but I didn't want to believe it when I thought about it. I thought I was just being paranoid or thinking up too many worst-case scenarios. But the fact of the matter is that the website I used to write for was getting hammered over the past few months. Traffic was down a lot and it was a struggle to get readers on the site. My posts in particular were not bringing in the readers like they'd done before. I couldn't begin to tell you why. Of course, my ability to write click-baity titles and attractive Facebook teases was never great to start with. And I'm not particularly good at writing posts revolving around celebrity gossip, which seemed to be the biggest draw on the site. Well, I could write them. Anyone can take to their keyboard and plunk out words in a certain order.

But here's the dirty secret about writing - if you-the-writer isn't interested in the topic, it's near impossible to make your readers interested in it. I'm sure some writers can BS their way through sincerity, but that was never a talent I cultivated in myself. For me, writing has always been about talking about things I'm interested in. Nobody else could give a flying flea fart about a topic, but I would write the hell out of it. That happened frequently with this job. I would get all worked up over certain posts and spend a lot of time carefully putting together my arguments and researching the information. But it seemed the more work I put into those posts, the fewer people would actually read them - according to Google Analytics, anyway. When a post that I worked hard on fell flatter than a pancake, someone else would have to quickly post something involving boobs to resurrect the numbers for the hour. Such incidents didn't do much for my confidence in myself as a writer.

The dumb thing is that the people who did read it would leave thoughtful and complimentary feedback about what I'd written. So I knew that what I was putting out was quality stuff. But the audience for quality commentary regarding politics and culture were few and far between. Let's face it - our nation is full of immature frat boys and girls (in fact, I would hazard to say that the female commenters on the website were more vulgar and hateful than the males. That's another subject I'll want to cover later).

So, yes - there were certain aspects of pop culture that I was good at, but clearly our audience was not interested in the latest swat of censorship on college campuses or stupidity coming from the "political message first, story and characters never" movement in much of entertainment these days. But a story about Kim Kardashian's boobs? Yep. That generated traffic like nobody's business.

That, and the fact that people are just sick of politics. I can't blame them, either. The utter tantrum that political junkies have been throwing... well, you've probably seen it. It's been ridiculous. It's like, yes my preferred candidate has lost before and I've felt like it was the end of the world. But the current strife been going on for so long and the rest of us are all "Seriously? Get over it. You told us to get over it and shoved your win in our faces. Grow up already."

The stupid thing is that I don't particularly even like how things turned out. Then again, the candidate(s) I liked lost in the primaries and I was pissed about the choices we had. As much of a political junkie as I can be, 2016 was the year I became disillusioned with it all. And I couldn't even say anything because I had to stick with the image of the site that I was working for. But I actually registered as an independent and voted third party last year. And you all can chew me out for my actions all you like and proclaim that it's my fault that *insert event that you are convinced will utterly destroy the universe, or at least our own galaxy* -

Sorry if the bad language offends you. But you can behold my field and see that it is so very barren. And I am waaaaaay past any idiotic guilt trips you want to send me on. Trust me. I've seen EVERYTHING. None of it has convinced me that I should regret my actions. If I have a regret, it's that I may have contributed to the discontent and division in the world today.

Then again, that was happening just fine with or without my egging it on.

It's an off-year politically. People who aren't constantly strung out on anger and rage at the "other side" (whatever the hell that's supposed to mean) are working and living their normal lives. They aren't interested in scoring cheap points on Twitter or coming up with pithy retorts to some idiotic argument that no one except some troll holed up in a basement somewhere cares about. You don't win points by winning internet arguments. Maybe there is some value in arguing with strangers online, but I've never found it. I just say what I have to say and leave it at that. Let the lemmings in the comment section duke it out amongst themselves (everyone needs a hobby).

***
Phew - lemme tell you how I really feel.

It probably goes without saying that I was very upset about this development (postpartum hormones didn't help matters at the time). And I can say with confidence that I'd never seen Jared that angry about anything (one of the best things about my husband is how rationally he handles crises. He is certainly the level-headed one of our marriage and I adore him for it). At first, he did reach out to some of his writer friends asking if they knew of any political websites hiring or if they could connect us with people willing to at least talk to me about writing for them.

But here's the thing: I was (and am) burned out on politics. It happens from time to time and I eventually get back into it - but this time feels different. Now that I've had time to think about it, I actually see that getting laid off was a blessing in disguise. I didn't like the person I was becoming while I spent so much time in the political fray. Sure, I still have many of the same opinions that I did before. But I also learned a lot about myself, the people that I thought I agreed with, and the whole messy business of writing polemics. Also, 2016 is the year that I lost respect for people that I used to admire (nobody who has a prayer of reading this post, I'm certain). It's like I realized how I and people like me had been used by The Powers That Be to keep their power and, you know, I really don't like it. That is something I want to cover at a later date. Trust me, I have so many thoughts to write out. And it is likely to make a lot of people mad. Many that I generally agree with, I'm sure.

One thing's for sure - you don't retire from the political war without someone crying about how you're a traitor and should be drawn and quartered. Again, please see my earlier gif of Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.

So, that's where I am in life. And where I think my next round of blog posts is going to be about. Because I have had so much to think about and I want to get it written out. Not just written out - because I could keep this private and to myself. But I want it out there. I know that few people of consequence are going ever see this and that's fine. This is purely for my benefit, as well as anyone who may stumble on it.

I'm not interested in traditional political arguments. I'm actually going back to work for the library system I was working for when Jared and I met. I've only been out of the game for a few years and they were happy to take me back. As crazy as working with the public can be, I'm actually looking forward to it. I'll be a substitute librarian and that will afford me flexible hours and I really only need to work part-time. I will likely meet people of every stripe and creed and that's great. Some of them may be hyped up on politics and that's fine. But I'm leaving it aside for the foreseeable future. Anyone who tries to get me back into that mess will be ignored. I don't think that I'll get a ton of commenters on this blog (I've never had many), but I'm saying this right now. My blog, my house, my rules.

Take your guilt trips elsewhere. I'm done. I've got an infant child to care for and a life that's far too important to be dealing with petty political squabbles that never, ever change.

A Return to Form - Part 1

"We will live by our own rules, for that is the best form of all!" - Captain Killian Jones, Once Upon a Time episode 3.05 "Good Form"

I think this blog is going to make another transition. Up until now, it's been mostly a review blog - reviews of TV and movies that I want to talk about (Side Note: Jared is also going to be using this for some homework he has this semester, which you might have already seen). But when I started this, the title "cj's notebook" was chosen deliberately. Lowercase initials because I think type in all caps is ugly as crap. But "notebook" because when I write in my hard copy notebooks, anything and everything goes in them. Story ideas, random thoughts, things I want to remember, tirades about things that irritate me, funny things that make me laugh, and more thoughtful moments when something hits me in the squishy, gooey center.

I've decided I want this blog to have more of that squishy gooey-ness. And maybe some more real-life moments. Good and bad. And what better time than after I officially become a mom.

Yes, the timing of this is no coincidence. I mentioned some time ago that I was expecting a baby. Well, Tiny made his grand appearance roughly seven weeks ago -

Yes, he has a Baby Groot.

Needless to say, life has changed dramatically. That's one of the biggest "Well, duh" statements I could make. Even people who don't have kids of their own recognize this. I knew things were going to change. What I didn't expect was how drastically things were going to change. And not all in good ways. But from opposition comes self-reflection, and that's the story I'm going to tell.

I'm just going to say it: If you don't want to hear my childbirth story, you probably want to turn back right now. I'll try to soften the gory details, but to appreciate this experience I have to share as much as I can. Sorry if that upsets you.

Tiny's due date was August 3. August 3rd came... and then it went. A week later, my doctor had planned to induce me no later than a week overdue. The night of August 10, I was admitted to the hospital and they induced labor. The plan was to have the baby on the 11th. But - after the gloriousness of Saint Epidural (I'm telling you, epidurals are God's gift to women) - I slept for most of the 11th. They even had to increase the medication because labor wasn't progressing as it should. At one point, having a C-section was seriously discussed and that made me want to crawl into a hole somewhere (well, I would have if I'd had use of my legs).

By midnight on the 12th, I was ready to push. Which I did for about 3-4 hours. And still nothing. By the time my doctor was called in, I'd been in labor for more than 30 hours. My doctor gave us a few options to try before I would have to be prepped for a C-section. We tried one and at 5:24 am on August 12, Alex was born.

And the boy was BIG. Ten pounds, fourteen ounces. Which explained why he had such a hard time being born. Also, when he was finally born, his exit from the womb caused me some severe injuries and bleeding. (This is the squicky part, FYI.) I lost a liter of blood, my blood pressure dropped like a rock, I turned pale, and I had to be put on oxygen. The stupid thing about this part? I was still drugged up like crazy, so I couldn't feel anything. I had no clue that I was in so much trouble. All I wanted was to see my baby and make sure he was okay.

Well, depends on how you define "okay." Because his breathing was really fast and his blood sugar was really low. He needed to eat, but he couldn't take anything by mouth because there was a risk that he would inhale it and choke. I got to hold him for about an hour before they whisked him off to the nursery to be checked out. Which is where he stayed for several days afterwards. He was on oxygen and an IV and a bunch of other sensors the likes of which I'd seen in the NICU after my triplet nieces were born back in May. While Alex was not in the NICU, he did have to be continuously monitored because of the rough delivery. Poor kid's face was swollen, he had bruises from the delivery, and jaundice set in pretty quick.

But I didn't know that immediately. I was left with an oxygen mask on my face, exhausted, and with nurses scrambling around me back and forth (NOTE: I have to say that all of the nurses that worked with me and Alex while we were in the hospital were amazing. Not only were they professional and caring, but they went out of their way to make sure I felt like a human being. Given how long we ended up staying in the hospital, I can't overstate how much I appreciated everything they did for us.) It was a few hours before I got to see Alex. And I was a wreck. Once they removed the epidural tube-thingy and the drugs started to wear off, I could feel how much pain I was in. I could barely walk the five feet from my bed to the bathroom in the recovery room. Just standing up nearly wiped me out. The first time I went to see Alex in the nursery, I had to be taken in a wheelchair.

It kind of sucked.

Also, we couldn't have a lot of visitors. Because Alex was in the nursery, only his parents and grandparents were allowed to see him. Aunts, uncles, cousins, friends - nope. None of them could see him in the hospital. Which stunk because a lot of people (family, mostly) were texting and calling wondering when they could come visit. Keep in mind, *I* still hadn't seen my baby for more than an hour when these texts were coming in. Not that I was mad about people wanting to visit. I was actually happy to hear from family. But it was just frustrating that I didn't know what to tell everybody. Heaven knew I could have used some outside company. But it didn't seem fair to let people come see us when they couldn't see the baby. Let's be real here: That's why they would have wanted to come at all.

To recap: While none of these problems were life-threatening or even particularly serious, it certainly wasn't what we'd planned on happening. The entire time I was pregnant with Alex, everything went normal. My doctor wasn't worried about anything, every little complaint I had about morning sickness and other discomforts were expected, even going past my due date was anticipated (first time moms often go over). We even had an idea that Alex would be a bigger-than-average baby. Just didn't realize how big he'd be or how hard of a time he'd have being born because of it. He's in the 100th percentile for everything - weight, length, head size. Meaning he's bigger than other babies his age. We joke that he could have walked out of the hospital, that I'd given birth to a toddler. But he's a "toddler" that's still a seven-week-old baby.

Of course, we love this kid like there is no tomorrow. I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. You might have heard something along the lines of becoming a mother means letting your heart wander around outside your body. I can attest that is an accurate way of putting things. It's amazing and joyous and nerve-wracking and frightening all at the same time. There are times I hate having to put Alex down in his crib or in his bouncy chair because I don't want him to be too far away from me, even if all I'm doing is cleaning the house or going to the bathroom or something equally mundane and necessary and not that far away. But it feels like I'm taking a trip to the Himalayas. It sounds ridiculous - but maybe it's not so ridiculous to other moms.

Which is why this next bit is kind of... I don't know how to describe it. Maybe I should just tell the story and let it stand on its own.

***

Actually, this is getting pretty long-winded. So, I'm going to post this and do a Part 2 shortly. Look forward to it!

New Titles and Old Favorites (And Eternal Lessons)

So... you know how I do that whole "Year End Playlist" thing every year? How I spend the year collecting songs that I think exemplify the things that happened to me or songs that ended up meaning something as the year goes on? I've been working on 2015's throughout the year (like I did for 2014) and there have been some terrific additions to the playlist (some that I've already cut just because I changed my mind).

But I think this is going to be the definitive entry for this year's creation -




Though in all truthiness, I haven't decided if I want that one or The Piano Guys version (I might just pull a "Let It Go" from last year and do both. Hey - it's my playlist. I can do what I want with it! Besides, my Scottish heritage is kind of in love with this rendition) -



And not because I feel like I've got anything to prove to anyone (other than myself, I suppose. But that's a constant battle). Maybe it's just where I am in life - super-awesome job that I love, super-awesome fiance that I love (oh yeah - forgot to mention that. I'm engaged! For real! February's the big day!), and I'm just 200% happier than I was a year ago.

The best part is finally feeling like all that pain and turmoil that I had to slog through for so long was actually, in fact, worth it. People kept telling me that there was something I had to learn and that's why I was going through the things I went through. Why I kept hearing "no" over and over again when there were things that I desperately wanted - when I felt like I must have screwed up something big and there was no way I could salvage anything from my life and make it into anything worthwhile.

But I kept working at it and kept doing what I was already doing. I filled my life with the best possible things I could at the time. I went to the temple, I served in my church callings (that calling with the teen girls in drug rehab was probably most fulfilling calling I've ever had. And I include my mission in that statement), I did my absolute damn best at work, I relished my hobbies - and I was slowly able to let go of the rejection and disappointment that I thought was going to be my trademark for the rest of my life.

And - wonder of wonders - look what happened! The two things that I'd been hoping and praying for actually freaking happened (well - two out of three. My closet still doesn't open into a portal to Narnia) - I was offered a job by two ladies whom I've admired since I discovered their blog and I was finally able to do something I'd only dreamed about since middle school. And the guy that I liked since pretty much the first time I met him (and had a ridiculous schoolgirl crush on that I never thought would amount to anything) asked me out and now I've got a ring on my finger and we're planning a wedding for after the new year. Like - seriously! How in the world does this stuff even happen? To some dorky little nobody like me? I'm the glorified gopher girl - good things don't happen to me!

Except when they do. And that's when I look up at God and say "This whole time. This. Whole. Stinking. Time. You knew EXACTLY what you were doing."

(I'm still pulling out minor details from years ago that led to these big things. It's ridiculous how this stuff happens. That'll teach me to think - even for one second - that I've been left alone to my own devices.)

I'm not going to pretend it was easy. I'm also not going to act like I had this monstrous pile of suffering either. This is what I do know - I hit my version of rock bottom and I had to claw my way back to the top. And, truly, I could have gotten back up here and still been without a full-time job and single as the day is long. But I had come to a point where I wasn't going to be angry at the world/God/myself anymore. What was the purpose of being angry, really?

Maybe that's the lesson here. And it's something I'll have to reach back for when tough times come again (I'm not stupid enough to think that it's smooth sailing from here on out). But for now - I'm going to enjoy my victory and my joy. I'm going to celebrate the fact that I didn't let the hard things run me over completely.

I've still got a lot of fight left in me.

Time For a Pointless Update On My Life

*walks in, looks around, blows dust off the desk, cracks knuckles, sits down*

No, little blog. I have not forgotten you. I just have a day job that, by the time I'm done wrestling the alligators and gremlins of the political sphere of the internet, the last thing I want to do is compile a list of snarky-yet-entertaining thoughts for my personal blog. Even though I probably should because it would help keep me sane and feeling less like I want to take a baseball bat to a china shop.

Anyway - where was I? Oh yes - life and such.

When last we left our intrepid heroine, she'd just turned the "dreaded" 3-0 (actually, it was a lot less painful than I was led to believe. It was quite the fun little weekend, really). Summertime was in full swing, though you wouldn't know it since the Utah weather decided it wanted to be like Seattle, except with less ocean and more insufferable hipsters (I'm convinced our local hipsters are even worse than those in the Pacific Northwest because they feel like they have something to prove). There were also whisperings of a summer wedding for her younger brother, which inevitably made her retreat from some family interactions - mostly because weddings give her hives (heaven knows how neurotic she'd become if she ever had to plan one for myself. Two words: Las Vegas). And certain relatives can't keep their freaking mouths shut about such things (remember what I said about baseball bats and china shops? It's rather therapeutic. Or I imagine it would be).

But the Payson Temple open house and subsequent dedication was nice. Still have plans to go do a session there at some point.

Interesting story about the first time I drove through Payson after they started building the temple. It was November and I was heading home for Thanksgiving. It was dark by then, but as I drove by the temple site, I could faintly make out the steel structure that had already been constructed. And you know the thing that struck me the most? How close the temple was to the freeway! I mean, you drive up and down I-15 and all the temples you see are cleeeeeeeear in the heck out in the foothills or in the middle of a traffic-choked city. Even the Jordan River Temple, which is the next closest, seems to be far away and so very distant. But Payson - it's right behind Wal-Mart! In fact, you get off the freeway, hang a right at the baseball field and you're there in less than a minute. And maybe it's just the cogs in my brain working the way they do, but I felt like that was an appropriate metaphor - that the temple isn't this far-and-distant place that only the righteous and super-good get to attain and only after you've jumped through a series of uber-complicated hoops and consulted every map and GPS known to humanity to find the place. But rather, the temple is something that anyone can attain, if they have a mind to do so.

I dunno - I like that the Payson Temple isn't hidden away far back on some obscure mountain goat trail (looking at you, Draper and Bountiful), but that it's right there bordering on someone's hayfield that's right next to the main thoroughfare through town. Maybe it's the hayfield, but the rural setting is balm to this farm girl's soul.

It's strange - but while it's been quite a few years since I actually lived in Delta/Callao and there's no reason to believe that's going to change anytime soon, visiting the Payson Temple felt a lot like going home. I don't live in that district and I'm not anticipating that happening - but it just felt right, somehow. The only other temple I've ever felt "at home" like that is in the Salt Lake Temple.

This could TOTALLY be an Ensign cover photo, if I had a mind to submit it.

Same with an impromptu day trip I took to Logan with my folks for some business dealings. Part of me wished we hadn't been in such a hurry - I would have liked to have taken a lap around the Utah State University campus for old time's sake. Or even cruised up the hill to the Logan Temple, just to take some pictures. But the drive through Sardine Canyon was enough - it was a damn pretty day when we went up there. One day I'll probably snap and drive up there myself for kicks and giggles (I've done that and gone to Park City more than once lately).

My niece and nephew remain the cutest creatures on the freaking planet and I'll still fight anybody who contends otherwise.

Podcasting continues with the Five(ish) Fangirls. We recently celebrated our one-year anniversary
with no signs of slowing down. And the way I prattle on about any given topic - even something I have ZERO clue about - I think it's going to stay that way for the foreseeable future.

My yearly tradition of compiling a playlist of music to tell the story of my year is in full swing. While the year is only half over and I'm certain this will change between now and Christmas, I have a pretty good list of tunes that I think represent how the year's gone so far -

1. Skye Boat Song (Main Title Theme from Outlander) - Bear McCreary
2. Feels Like Today - Rascal Flatts
3. Bulletproof Picasso - Train
4. I Really Like You - Carly Rae Jepsen (blame Castle for this one)
5. Roundtable Rival - Lindsey Stirling
6. Shake It Off - Taylor Swift (in my line of work, this has become my theme song)
7. Immortals - Fall Out Boy (Big Hero 6 cemented that one on this list)
8. The Words - Christina Perri
9. Fast Car - Christian Kane
10. Breathe - Michelle Branch
11. For The First Time In Forever - Kristen Bell and Idina Menzel (from Frozen)
12. Come Sail Away - Styx
13. Spaceman - The Killers
14. Walk in the Sun - McFly
15. This Is Your Life - The Killers (will have to do some rearranging with this)
16. The Adventure Begins - Howard Shore (from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey)
17. No Light, No Light - Florence and the Machine
18. More Than a Feeling - Boston

Like I said - not the final product, but it works for now.

I Also have tentative ideas for Librarian in the TARDIS, Part 2: Vortex Boogaloo, only because it's been so long since I've seriously reviewed anything Doctor Who related for myself and I remember how much FUN that whole project was. And do I really need a 50th Anniversary for an excuse to write about Who? Nope - don't think so! I'd have to think of a new structure to it - maybe just Big Finish and spin-offs? Not sure yet (Don't hold me to it, though. I mean, my Goodreads challenge is slowly falling apart and I even shortened it to 75 books this year).

That's probably all for now (well - as much as I want to post on my blog, anyway). Short, sweet, random, serious, and silly. Like you've come to expect anything else from me.

Rhett Butler Marries Scarlett O'Hara and Other Unfortunate Truths

The following post is merely meant to be instructive in how my brain works. I'm not trying to make a point or get attention or garner pity. In fact, if this does attract pity from anyone, I will delete this blog and run off to live in a hermitage in the Himalayas.

(Okay - maybe I won't go that far. But I will rage at said-purveyors-of-pity with a tortured "YOU COMPLETELY MISSED THE POINT, ASSBRAIN!!" shouted out into the stratosphere. It's how I siphon off my rage ^_^)

~*~begin stream of consciousness~*~

About eleven years ago, I was a lowly staff writer for The Snowdrift, the student-run newspaper at Snow College in Ephraim, Utah. Near the end of the spring semester, one of the opinion columnists who was about to graduate wrote a column in which his only goal was to be an ass. The column was more or less a stream-of-consciousness of every controversial and mean-spirited thing he could think of. I don't remember everything he wrote in that column - it was pretty disjointed - but I do remember that he called every female student at Snow fat and ugly. I also remember him saying afterwards that nobody read the paper unless there was something controversial, and this experiment proved him right.

Indeed it did. After his column was printed, it seemed like every woman (and a good handful of the men) at Snow wrote in to complain. The opinion section of the next issue had to carve out a good chunk of space to devote to these responses. I'd say he achieved his goal. People were reading the paper and talking about it. He got their attention, even if it was negative attention. And he wasn't apologetic in the slightest.

Why am I bringing this up? To make mention of the fact that you don't get noticed unless you do something incredibly stupid - or if you do something that could be perceived as incredibly stupid.

This is why I thought of the episode with the newspaper. Yesterday I was looking for a birthday present for my nephew (who turns one in a little over a week) and I happened to notice this adorable piece of baby couture -

I laughed, snapped a picture for Instagram and captioned it with that if my niece was still a little baby, I would totally buy this for her! (and if they had a version with camo and tractors, maybe I'd get one for my nephew. Hey, a little advertising never hurts.)

After I posted the picture and the caption, that obscenely annoying Stupid Desperate Voice in my head said "OMG -YOU IDIOT! You don't post stuff like that on social media! What if some guy sees it and writes you off as some pathetic old maid who's too desperate for a date and then he won't ask you out!"

To which I replied - "Dear Stupid Desperate Voice - I haven't been on a date since the first Hobbit movie came out. I don't think a picture of a onesie on a clearance rack at WalMart is going to affect that too much. And even if it does - it's a hell of a lot more attention than I've attracted in the last three years! I'll take anything at this point!"

(Yes, I have conversations with my mind chatter. I'm probably certifiably insane. But I somehow manage to function in the normal world).

This got me to thinking about how my attitudes and outlooks on dating have changed. It's been on my mind a lot lately. Ever since we had that idiotic "Dating Box" lesson at church a few weeks ago (it's some high school hold-over that these kids have that lit the fire under the boys' asses to ask girls out to prom or something) - I've decided that I'm taking on the Dowager Countess Violet (you know - Maggie Smith's character on Downton Abbey) outlook on this aspect of life. I've been in the game so long and am so tired of it that I might as well say whatever comes to my mind about it. Just like when your grandparents saw rude and offensive things and nobody bats an eye because Grandma's just crazy like that. That's what I'm going to do. Actually - I've already been doing it.

Some time ago, I was at a church activity for my Young Single Adult ward (which is an LDS congregation made up of single people ages 18-31. I'll be 30 in a little over a month, so I've got one foot in the grave as far as the YSA's are concerned).  At that activity, there was a guy that was about my age and he was completely surrounded by 20-22 year olds, just giggling and flirting with him like he was the last piece of meat at the buffet. I stood back and watched the scene unfold, like I had hundreds of times before, shaking my head at the idiocy on display.

After a while, we chanced to be at the Rice Krispy treat table at the same time. We introduced ourselves to each other and asked the typical "Where do you live?" "Are you working or going to school?" "Where do you work/What are you studying?" etc. Somewhere in the conversation his age came up and the comment just fell out of my mouth - "Ah - that explains the gaggle of fangirls you had earlier." He asked me to elaborate and I said "You're older, good-looking, have a good job, you're new(ish) in the ward - it's like throwing a bucket of blood in shark-infested waters!" He laughed and I threw out my Countless Violet comparison as a joke. Later that night, Stupid Desperate Voice came through and said "Oh, good job you idiot. He probably thinks you're a complete bitch for saying those things!" And my next thought was - "If he does, let him! That was damn hilarious!"

Here is my point - too many single women look at being single as a total hardship. Even when they're looking for things to be happy about, it's more akin to Scarlett O'Hara looking out at her family's plantation that has been made desolate by war and devastation and proclaiming through gritted teeth as she shakes her fist to the heavens - "I'LL NEVER BE HUNGRY AGAIN!!!!!"



Does anybody remember this movie in its entirety? Do you remember Scarlett O'Hara. She was a complete and total bitch. I defy you to find me a protagonist in any medium of fiction who is more heinous, awful, selfish, bratty, and whiny than her. She is patently unlikable and you're almost rooting for her to keel over dead at ANY point during the movie. And yet - she is the one who wins Rhett Butler - who is arguably every red-blooded female's dream guy (him or Mr. Darcy - take your pick), while all this time that wretched whore is pining after that complete and utter twit Ashley. So, I guess it helps to be the "Mean Girl" because guys like that? I have no freaking idea -  don't ask me to explain the male psyche. Actually - don't ask me to explain the female psyche either, because and they're just as batshit insane.

So, we've got all these young women claiming that they don't need a man and they don't need marriage and they're defiantly yelling out into the world that they ARE LOVED, DAMMIT! But really, they're just saying that to diffuse the stigma (or whatever) of being single. They are DETERMINED to feel loved and valued no matter what!

It's hilariously sad to watch.

These are just my observations and musings on my generations' modes and methods and attitudes of dating. They're asinine and completely ridiculous, but it's what I have to work with. I'm not bitter or resentful at all. On the contrary - I'm happy to make jokes at their desperation and insanity. I'm not going to close with scripture or any kind of motivational speechifying, because I think we get enough of that and it's not like it helps. And I'm not here to help anybody. I'm here to point and laugh at it all. Because I have reached the point in my dating process that everything is either going to be hilarious or it's going to be depressing. And I've had enough of depressing. Everything is so serious nowadays that I'm going to take my utter discouragement and make a joke out of it. You get attention by making fat jokes. Scarlett O'Hara is a bitch, but she still wins the hot guy in the end. I may be loved in the metaphoric sense, but it doesn't do me a damn lick of good in any other quantifiable ways.

And I've made peace with that.

Time for Reflection: A Quick(ish) Update

It's been so long since I've really had anything to write about here. But I'm feeling a bit reflective tonight - and I thought of a few things that I need to make mention of before I find myself having gone a month without a blog post.

A lot of things have changed in the past month - yet, they have stayed the same. First off, I got a new job and it's one that I am all at once excited and terrified about. I imagine that it would be the same for anyone who dreamt of doing something most of their life, never actually believing that it would ever happen, then it does and they're afraid of either screwing it up or that they won't live up to expectations (which is kind of the same thing - yet somehow different). My new job is writing for a political commentary blog. I've never made a huge deal out of my political views publicly - mostly because I never felt qualified enough to make concise arguments, but also because I tend to be friends with people who disagree with me politically. I have no idea why this happened - it just does (my mom asked me once why I studied such liberal subjects in college and I didn't have a good answer for her then either - I feel I can enjoy writing and literature and geek culture as a conservative just as well as anyone with liberal politics. I know there are people who would faint dead away at the mere thought of such things, but I somehow still manage to sleep well at night).

Recently, I saw in the newspaper a feature on the annual Sterling Scholars competition coming up. If you don't know, Sterling Scholars is where high school seniors in Utah are chosen to represent their schools in several different academic fields. They put together a portfolio of their achievements in that subject and compete with other students across the state for who was the best student in that subject. When I was a senior, I represented my tiny high school as the English Sterling Scholar (we were so small and we'd all chosen our favorite fields anyway that it was a foregone conclusion). I worked my butt off to put together a really good portfolio - but I lost out to someone from a bigger school. I had no illusions I would actually win - but still, it hurts to lose. Fast forward twelve years later - and I am actually working as a writer. Like, hundreds of thousands of people are seeing my writing online and I am getting paid for it. I honestly don't know how many people who study English in college or become the English Sterling Scholar or whatever other accolade you can get actually go into what they study. If I've learned anything about life, it's that plans very rarely go the way you're led to believe that they will. Random opportunities present themselves at strange times and you just have to take them, whether you're ready to tackle them or not, and you hope and pray that you learn as you go (which, not to brag or anything, I'm actually quite adept at doing. I may kick and scream against the learning curve a little bit, but I will certainly learn).

Which brings me into Awkward Transition #1 - what else I've been doing in the interim. I'm still keeping a toehold in the library scene. I don't think I could give it up entirely, plus it gives me a reason to get out of the house from time to time. And I would never say no to the little bit of extra income I can get by working some night and weekend shifts every now and again. Truth be told, I would miss it if I were to give it up entirely. I won't be able to do much (if any) committee work, but I'm okay with that. It's my book geek-out place and I need that. I no longer hold any illusions that I will ever get a full-time job at the library (I've been given too many "No"s to believe that anymore - plus, my outing as one of those right-wing nuts probably precludes me from ever having a hope of that again. I've made my peace with that, though), but as a side project - it brings me life.

Of course, I'm still going strong on The Five(ish) Fangirls Podcast. Again, another much-needed outlet. All of my fellow co-hosts have become some of my very best friends (and this is without ever having met them face-to-face. Welcome to the internet age, people). I'm constantly amazed how we came into each other's lives and the random ways that we connected and just how well we click with one another. It's more than just talking about Doctor Who or Marvel or Once Upon a Time or whatever else we discuss on any given week - we're involved in each other's lives and we're interested in what we're doing on a personal level (none of that makes it onto the public podcast - but you know what I mean). Even just sending Facebook messages or whatever - it's kind of cool that we can do that. Again - not something I ever imagined I would be part of, and yet here I am.

It goes without saying that I'm still diving into all my fandoms and finding new ones. I have been seriously remiss in not coming onto my blog to fangirl over The Librarians, which is my new favorite show that I am stupidly in love with (and has led me onto other new obsessions). I need to do a big long overview/lovefest over here because it sooooo deserves to be loved on as often as possible and by as many people as can/will do it. And they just got renewed for a second season, which makes me as happy as a gaggle of 25+ YSA girls with a new guy in the ward who just turned 30 (and if you need any of that metaphor explained - see me after class. I admit, it's kind of an inside joke).

That's all I've got for now. Hopefully I'll still be able to find time for weekly Once Upon a Time reviews when that starts up again (I let Sailor Moon Crystal get away from me, for which I feel bad because I'm still very much enjoying it). But I'll be back because I really need this outlet - whether or not anyone reads it at all.

Falling Into Place

"Please I pray you, hear it now, for I would lay rest the grace in my tongue and speak plainly. Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words." - Geoffrey Chaucer from A Knight's Tale

I live at the base of a really huge mountain on the east side of Salt Lake City. The foothills are a beautiful place to live - even in the wintertime when a bobsled is a more useful mode of transportation than a rickety four-door sedan. And when I take the time to get outside and really look at my surroundings, I find that nature and nature's God have a lot to teach me.

For reasons to complex and harrowing to go into now, 2014 has been full of a lot of anxiety and anger for me. Frustrations with my career and family things and bad memories that I thought I'd gotten over a long time ago have blended together to create a volatile reaction of guilt and a sense of failure in my mind. But I have been blessed with tender mercies and wonderful experiences - things that nobody else would look twice at - things that had to have been meant specifically for me and my situation. It further proves to me that God knows my mind better than I know it myself and that He is indeed looking out for me.

Oh my giddy aunt - did I just start talking about God? Well... yeah. I did. I know that my beliefs are unique in the world and not everybody understands them (hell, there are times I don't understand some of my beliefs, even though I could never imagine going against them - so don't even try). But these sacred things have pulled me through so many awful moments and I would be an ungrateful liar if I pretended it was anybody else doing this. I don't expect my experiences to mean squat to other people - you have to have your own experiences with the Divine for it to make sense to you (yeah, I hear the scoffers laughing at me right now. Go ahead and yuk it up. I'm used to it). But I felt the need to share some things here.


Tonight was particularly bad for me. But this time, I just said "Screw it, I'm going for a walk." And I did. I threw my iPod in my ears and started hiking up the hill. And when I say "up," I mean I went entirely uphill. On purpose. I was going as far uphill as I could stand because I was tired of hurting emotionally and mentally - I might as well hurt physically too. And, damn, did that walk hurt (I'm woefully out of shape and my body is going to hate me in the morning). Funny thing is - I got as far as the front doors of the church building in my neighborhood before I finally called it quits. I sat on the steps outside the building for a while and looked out over the valley. The sunset over the Great Salt Lake was amazing - the lights in the cities below looked so calm and peaceful - the woods around me felt like another world entirely (I swear, I could have fallen sideways into Narnia if I wanted to). I finally just broke down and cried right there in front of the doors (nobody was around, thank goodness) - I cried about everything I felt like I was missing, I cried about feeling alone and abandoned, I cried about how I didn't know how to fix any of it. After some time of this, I started to remember all the lines and quotes from the stories that I love - too many to list specifically, but everything about how hope is the most important thing, that bad things don't spoil the good things that have happened to us, that great adventures being with small moments, trusting in things not seen which are true, remembering people who've left and the impact they made whether for good or ill, and a whole slew of things I've been learning since I was a little girl - both in religious texts and in my favorite fictional novels. All of it combined to serve as an answer to prayer.

Maybe I'm over-stepping my bounds in sharing something like this - but there are so many sides of me that seem to contradict each other. Things I believe that, on the surface, shouldn't make sense that one person believes all those same things (at least, that's what all the pundits in the news, on Twitter, and Tumblr tell me when they're trying to choke the life out of each other). But those things are vital parts of me and someday I'll understand why these things are the way they are. I know there's a huge debate going on surrounding my faith about why God sees fit to do things the way He does. I don't have an answer to satisfy the mainstream low-information social justice mobs. I wish I did, so then people would stop saying horrible things about each other and stop fighting about it. I wish I knew for certain why bad things happen. I wish I knew how to stop bad people from doing bad things. But I don't. And if I let myself get swallowed up in wondering how to fix it, I will go crazy. It's going to get so much worse before it starts getting better. All I can hold onto is the knowledge that God does love His children - that I have felt that love personally - that there is a plan and all things are in His hands. Someday, we will know the truth of all things, but it is not this day. And for now... that's enough for me. My job is to follow what God asks of me the very best that I can. I know I'm going to mess it up again and again. But that's how I'm going to learn. That's what I'm here to do. That's how I'm going to get stronger and more resilient. Just like if I kept hiking up the mountain every day, I would be able to run all the way to the top eventually (purely metaphorical - let's not get hasty here).

I'm not here to change or fix anybody else. I'm here to change myself.

"We’re getting stronger now
Find things they never found
They might be bigger
But we’re faster and never scared
You can walk away, say we don’t need this
But there’s something in your eyes
Says we can beat this."
- "Change" by Taylor Swift

Depression (Economic) And Why It Sucks

"I would lay rest the grace in my tongue and speak plainly." - Geoffrey Chaucer "A Knight's Tale"

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats." - H.L. Mencken as quoted by Ace of Spades HQ (check the banner)

I try to keep this blog free of conflict and contention - and bringing up anything remotely political is a good way to shoot that all to hell.  But when things connected with politics bring strife and heartache to your own doorstep, it's hard to keep your mouth shut, no matter how many people tell you to keep it to yourself.

Well, my friends - I am tired of keeping it to myself.   What good are words if I can't use them to point at something and say "Hey, there's something wrong here! What the hell?"  If you're having a good day and wish to continue in that vein, please be on your merry way.  I'll let you know when I have a movie or book review to geek out over. 

Here it goes.

I warned you.

*clears throat*

This economy is shit.  Pure and utter shit.

I don't know this because of anything on the news or what some talking head on TV told me.  I know this because today I spent over $80 on basic grocery needs at Wal-Mart.  Basic grocery needs for one person - AT THE FREAKING WAL-MART - cost over $80.  Things like bread, milk, orange juice, sausage, cereal, yogurt, frozen pizzas, spaghetti noodles, eggs, peanut butter, jam, butter, shampoo, soap, tampons, toothpaste - you want I should go on?  And I'm not buying the expensive brand-name crap - this is the Great Value El-Cheapo Soviet Commissary stuff.  Nothing is under $2.00.  Wait - a container of yogurt was 58 cents (Whoo-hoo - what a sale).  Every time I put something in my cart, I was on the verge of tears.  And I saw moms with their young children grocery shopping and all I could think was that I cannot imagine what it must be like shopping for a family.

It got even better - I spent $50 filling up my gas tank.  Last year, I rarely spent over $30 a fill-up.  I don't go very many places - work, errands and home.  Again - moms carting their kiddles to school and soccer and piano lessons and every where else they go.  I don't know how they do it, but God bless them.

I would not be so tender about this if my job situation were more secure.  Tomorrow is the last day for a while that I will have regular work shifts every day.  I'm a substitute librarian - I only work if someone else takes a day off.  Right now, work has all the shifts posted to the end of the year so managers can plan schedules for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  And where I was getting 30-40 hours a week in the summer - now I'm doing good if I get barely 20 hours a week.  I've applied for so many jobs, but everything is the same - I'm over-qualified for some jobs because of my MLS and I don't have enough experience for other jobs because they found someone else from out-of-state that's been in the game for 20-30 years already.  And why take a chance on some young gun when they can get someone already tested and proven?

I understand all this very well.  Hell, I never spent a moment in a business class (wish I had) and I get it.  I would do the same if I was running a business and needed to hire someone.  I hate that I understand how this all works because it would be a hell of a lot easier to sit here and whine how the system is so unfair and I never get what I want and what I wants is a pony, Daddy, and I wants it RIGHT NOW, DAMMIT!!

(Actually, I'd ask for a pink unicorn. The kind that craps golden ice cream).

I am nearly 28 years old.  I should be well into my career by now, paying off my student loans, living in my own place, with a nice car and insurance and with a healthy nest egg.  I shouldn't be scraping by and living paycheck-to-paycheck, praying for someone to come down with the plague or something just so I can get a measly 4-hour work shift (and I don't want to wish misfortune on anyone - maybe just that someone's kid has an orthodontist appointment).  I shouldn't be worried that I can't make rent or that I'll have to resort to moving back in with my parents because living in the big city didn't work out for me.  I don't want to be that person - that person looks lazy and unmotivated when I am anything but.

They told me I could go to college and be whatever I wanted.  Well, if I had advice for my 17-year-old self right now, it would be to screw college.  Everyone goes to college and everyone has a degree and they aren't worth the paper they're printed on.  Get a job as a secretary and save your money.  Better yet - go to a trade school and become a diesel mechanic.  Or some kind of warehouse worker.  Or a truck driver.  It's hard, back-breaking work, but you'd probably be in shape and out of debt.  Maybe you'd even find a nice boy to marry.  Don't get into these useless art fields.  You can read and write on your days off.  Libraries and English departments are luxuries anyway - work in a field that a functioning economy can't do without.  Maybe if you didn't have that stupid literary bullshit from Creative Writing 101 tainting your brain, you could have actually finished your novel and possibly even self-published it and made a little bit of extra money on the side.  Yeah, you got straight-A's in high school, but life isn't high school and it isn't college.  Life doesn't give a damn how smart you are - it's how well you get the job done.  And you can't show that on the Dean's List.

(Amazing what you learn from life... after the fact).

I could also go into how this recession (aw hell, call a spade a spade - we're in a depression. As far as I'm concerned, you get two years to fix it before it becomes a depression) affected my family very pointedly.  But that is not my story to tell (not without clearing it first and I don't think I'd get clearance anyway).  All I can tell is that I never wanted to be living hand-to-mouth in my late-20s.  These past five years (minus the 18 months I spent on a church mission - but you're poor as a missionary anyway) have been sheer and utter hell.  This is not life, this is not living.  If something doesn't shape up soon - I have no idea what I'm going to do.  I don't want to be dependent on anyone but myself.  My goal has always been to be self-sufficient and that is exactly the opposite of what's been happening.

Perhaps I should feel blessed that I'm not one of those mothers with two or three kids around her grocery cart, wondering how she's going to afford lunches to send to school, never mind clothes and a house payment.  Right now, those women are my heroes - the ones who are making it work in this economy.  Even the ones who are trying their hardest and coming up short.  For what's been heaped upon them these past five years or so - they deserve a medal.

I will say this - when your #1 priority for women is making sure they have free birth control or abortions, your priorities suck balls.  How about making sure women have good jobs where they can afford to pay the rent, buy groceries, maintain a decent car and maybe have a little extra for a rainy-day fund or maybe a bit of a weekend movie splurge or something?  Quit playing this bullshit game with "women's issues" and stop with this "Vote with your lady parts" crap.  You know - I spent four years in Lit Theory wherein we discussed feminist theory and other assorted horse manure and the one thing feminists carped about was against anything remotely resembling the objectification of women or the infantilization of women.  Well, I'm a woman and I'm tired of being treated like I'm too stupid or too shallow to care about anything other than what's going on in my - ahem - "Lady Parts."  Honestly - I don't think my lady parts are going to matter too much if I can't afford to buy food to nourish them.  And the rest of my body as well, come to think of it.

Nothing else is going to matter if basic needs are not met - that's what this boils down to.  Books, movies, TV shows, geekdom in general will not matter if I'm too worried about how I'm going to afford a tank of gas to get to the store or if I'm going to have to default on a student loan and shoot my credit all to hell (without your credit, you basically have nothing in this world).  I don't want to lay down and let Sugar Daddy government take care of me, either - not when there are people more in need of it than I am.  This sounds horrible and I don't mean for it to be, but I can think of little else more awful or humiliating than to have to be dependent on someone else.  I would rather be a help to people who really need it than to have to be a burden.  Doesn't matter if it comes from my parents or my church or a government program - I've worked hard in my life and I want to earn what I get.

But lately - it's felt like I've worked and worked and worked and earned less and less and less.

I don't want to be whiny here.  But this isn't normal - I know it isn't normal.  I almost think this has to be a bad dream or a terrible joke and I'll wake up or get to the punchline, give a nervous laugh and get on with my life.  But it's none of those things and I'm not the only one that's noticed.  I'd like to hope that by writing this up, it can be a comfort - let someone else in a similar situation know that there is another person that knows how much this sucks and they aren't the only one sitting in the driveway crying over a half as many groceries as usual and a depleted bank account on payday and wondering how they're going to make it to the next paycheck.  Even a single person with no one else to support can feel it.  This particular single person is sick of it.

When is it going to get better?

This post is likely going to piss more than a few people off - maybe even some among my friends.  But these are my words and I own them.  I'm tired of censoring myself just because something I have to say might make someone else a teensy-bit uncomfortable.  Lord knows I've been in many uncomfortable conversations and haven't said a word.  I've extended plenty of polite courtesies to people I don't agree with and I'm asking for the same.  Even if I don't get it - well, I'm used to it.  After being told for 27.5 years that you're an idiot because you believe X, Y and Z, your skin tends to thicken up quite a bit.

For the next few days...

I'm going to be in and out with very little internet access (I can check stuff on my phone, but it's hard to post much unless I'm really, really, REALLY patient - yeah, right. Best I can do is a Facebook status update). I have a good friend whose brother-in-law passed away this morning and I have plenty of family Christmas hoopla to attend to AND I'm working on a business deal with my dad (I'm getting some more legal responsibility with regards to our family business, so this is a wild roller coaster ride that I'll have to fill you in on when it's all done). And, of course, it all had to happen THIS week... -_-'

So, I'm not ignoring internet life - just some things have to take a backseat for now. I was lucky enough to steal a few moments on the aforementioned friend's computer for a bit to post an update. But I'll be back soon (I just found out that my parents have wireless internet - YAY!!) In the meantime, keep fighting the good fight, y'all ^_^