books.

i grew up reading.  i remember being six years old and bored, pestering my mother about what i could do.  she took me into the living room, pulled a bobbsey twins novel off the bookshelf, and suggested i read.  so i did.  and i never looked back.

the living room in our house was a treasure trove of books.  novels, poetry, short stories, encyclopedias, dictionaries, art books, books on how things worked, volumes of fiction for children.  you think of a kind of book, and you could probably find it in there.  i thought it was normal to have a full wall of books in a room, to have books in every room of the house.  i didn't realize that some people relegate the few books they have to the closet or only buy books as decorating pieces.  for me, books were a way of living lives i couldn't otherwise access.

and now--now i'm a bit of a book whore, to borrow a phrase from an old professor.  i love just about any kind of book.  fiction, non-fiction, poetry, prose, biographies, essays, history.  i love the feel of a book--the heft of its weight in my hand.  i love the smell of books that you only find in a space filled to the brim with texts.  and i love the look of books on a shelf; there was one particular aisle in the BYU library that i especially loved because most of the spines were red.

but most of all, i love losing myself in a book.  which makes my current task more pleasure than task, since it requires reading and reading and then reading some more (in preparation for my exams).  last week, it was a text about relationships between women, don quixote, and community.  this week, it is the origins of the novel and a novel in verse.  and next week will bring more.  this is a life i could get used to.


{photo by john }

mosaic

a few months ago, my friend jana posted a photo mosaic meme that i loved.  and then a few days ago another friend posted hers.  and i remembered that i hadn't posted mine yet.  so i spent a few minutes this afternoon and made my own photo mosaic.  i think it's lovely.

 

1. Amelias Flower, 2. Goat Cheese Making 101, 3. Descanso dos arreios, 4. Walking on Glass - Pismo Beach, California, 5. Self Portrait, reflected. San Miguel de Allende, 6. a new school year, 7. April Showers, 8. October kitchen windowsill, 9. White flock, 10. Yellow ribbon, 11. Olé !, 12. Untitled

if you want to play, here's how:

type your answer to each of the questions below into a flickr search. using only the first page, choose your favorite image, then copy and paste each of the URL’s into the mosaic maker (3 columns, 4 rows). leave a comment if you play, so i can have a peek.

The questions:

1. what is your first name? (amelia)
2. what is your favorite food? (cheese)
3. what high school did you attend? (estancia)
4. what is your favorite color? (red)
5. who is your celebrity crush? (johnny depp)
6. favorite drink? (dr. pepper)
7. dream vacation? (european tour)
8. favorite dessert? (pumpkin pie)
9. what do you want to be when you grow up? (happy)
10. what do you love most in life? (peace)
11. one word to describe you. (passionate)
12. your flickr name. (laughtear)

buzzed.

yesterday i was called 'sir' for the first time in a long time.  which is not at all surprising, since, at the moment, i look like this:  

a friend gave me a fresh buzz on tuesday.  buzzing my hair started as a form of silent protest, but continues beyond the election because i like it.  i like the $60/haircut it saves me (that's nearly $200 in savings in the last five months).  but mostly i like the way it feels and looks.

there's an honesty in buzzing my hair off.  on some level, i'm saying, 'what you see is what you get.  and you know what?  i like what you see; i'm not going to try to hide it.'  that's incredibly liberating for me.  after starting college, having perfect hair became, for me, a means of compensating for my face.  when i have hair of any length, i get a bit obsessive with making sure it looks just right.  and that it doesn't get mussed over the course of the day.  buzzing it off means i couldn't worry about my hair's perfection if i want to.

of course, i do wonder if buzzing my hair isn't just another way of making sure people don't notice my face.  i am noticed when i buzz my hair.  some of that notice makes me laugh.  like when i get called sir.  or when a sweet old lady in the temple asked me if i was glad my hair was growing back in; and then, when she noticed my confusion, added, "or is it just a cool, easy style for summer?'  i laugh about such notice.  i kind of enjoy messing with people's perceptions about gender.

but the notice i get isn't all comic.  both this week and the last time i buzzed it (about two months ago), i have noticed more men looking at me than usual (this could be a factor of my noticing their attention more; but j(wh) trained me to recognize flirtatious interest so i don't think it's that).  some of the looks are questioning.  buzzed-head-as-oddity.  but some of them are flirtatious--as if a woman with the confidence to buzz her hair is sexually intriguing.

i don't really know what to ultimately make of the increased notice--whether it's just curiosity or whether it's attraction; whether it's only focused on my (lack of) hair or focused on my face; whether it's really about depriving myself of a hiding place or making that hiding place even better.  what i do know is that i like the way i feel when i buzz my hair.  i think i'll keep doing it.  at least for now.

open.

nearly ten years ago i graduated from BYU and moved to virginia to get a masters degree at UVA. i remember sitting in the welcome meeting for new graduate students and feeling a bit of culture shock. the most memorable catalyst for that culture shock was the DGS (director of graduate studies), a very hip man who taught african american studies and late 20th century pop culture--a man with long hair (a definite no-no at the Y) and colorful language (another no-no). i think he had a goatee, too. i wonder if he had a beard card signed by his medical provider...

that first semester at UVA was full of all kinds of new experiences. my first party, by which is meant a lot of people getting together to drink and talk with loud music playing in the background. my first wine & cheese gathering. my first outing to a bar for drinks. my first attempts at explaining mormon peculiarities to drunk people. my first whiff of pot. my first taste of thai food, vegetarian food, and cooked spinach. my first cocktail party (at which i was dubbed the 'mormon alice cooper' for reasons that remain entirely unclear to me).

i embraced every new experience that presented itself so long as it didn't require that i do something that contradicted my own standards. i made a very conscious choice that i would welcome any advance of friendship. for the first time in my life i lived far away from family (only two hours from my oldest brother, but without a car that was a fairly insurmountable distance). i was starting a new educational venture. and i knew that if i didn't build a supportive network for myself in charlottesville i would be miserable.

i didn't end up miserable. i ended up so happy that i wanted to never leave. i made wonderful friends at church. and i made wonderful friends at school. some of my friends from virginia remain among my dearest friends. i wouldn't trade the experiences we shared for anything.

once in a while, when i've described my experiences in charlottesville to other mormons, they've been surprised that i would go out to a bar on a friday night as a regular social activity. or that i would go to what was essentially a slightly grown up version of a kegger. that i wouldn't immediately leave a party when i smelled marijuana. that i laughed about the cross-dressing that i witnessed at a "shock your mom" party (one of the funniest nights ever) rather than being horrified. that when my boyfriend in virginia said 'f*** you' to me, i usually laughed at him because it was never said in anger but rather as part of a teasing that helped make our relationship happy.

i don't want to simply condemn people who would have refused to participate in such activities. i know that different people have different tolerance levels for different things. i respect that. but i think that a lot of people also create their own offense by focusing on something they consider unacceptable rather than looking past it. in my mind, it's far better to hear someone swear without it ruining my day or foreclosing the possibility of knowing that person, and the happiness that friendship with them might bring, than to try to shut myself off from all sources of behavior i deem inappropriate for myself.

what it boils down to for me is this: i want to know and love my world. all of it, not just that part that fits my preconceived notion of good. and focusing on the things i do not like so much that i fail to see wonderful new things or old things in new ways--well, that strikes me as the best way to refuse to know and love my world. and it seems to me that when we're so tuned in to potential sources of offense, we actually grant them much more control of our minds and spirits than they would have if instead we let them roll off our backs and instead we looked for the beautiful.

good.
i am thinking about that proverb again. specifically about 'withhold[ing] not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it. say not unto thy neighbour, go, and come again, and to morrow i will give; when thou hast it by thee.' and i'm thinking about it in light of my own circumstances. what good i have to give those to whom it is due (and this includes both others and myself). what good i have it in my power to do. what i have to give. what it means to lead a 'good' life.

and i've realized that in many ways i have thought about this incompletely. what does it mean to live a good life--not just one full of goodness, but one that deserves the epithet 'good'? in many ways, i've envisioned the 'good' life as something that originates outside myself in some set of ideals. some of those ideals are very traditional. marriage. children. a home with a garden. building a sanctuary for those i love. others of my ideals are very reformist liberal. social equity. various versions of activism (though i generally espouse the variety that involves my purchasing power and my lifestyle, more than the variety that involves shouting in the street). progressive politics. while they all reflect my own beliefs, i think of all of them as greater than myself--as something larger and more beautiful than i am alone. and because they are superlative, they're difficult to realize. that difficulty is exacerbated by the fact that those two different sources of ideals--the traditional and the progressive liberal--often seem to conflict. what does it mean, for instance, to want both a career (one centrally focused on feminism and liberal social ideals) and a traditional home life? i realize these desires don't necessarily conflict, but sometimes they feel like they do.

and then there is doing good. so often, i think about doing good in prescribed ways. to do good is to give to others of my material means. or to do acts of charity. i feel enormous responsibility to relieve suffering--a responsibility so enormous that i could never fulfill it. because there seems so very little i can do to help the children of haiti or AIDS orphans in africa or the dislocated people of sudan. because locked in my rather sterile suburban existence, the good i do often seems limited to providing christmas for a local family through my singles program or simple, spontaneous acts like thanking someone who holds a door for me or helping clean up a mess i didn't cause. i recognize and espouse the necessity of spontaneity in doing good. but when i think about it in the abstract, doing good generally is about fulfilling some external dictum. forgive. comfort. mourn. relieve. love.

it occurs to me that i almost invariably approach the question of what it means to do good by first considering what others need and then applying the appropriate dictum. someone's spouse dies; mourn. someone is in pain; comfort. someone hurt me; forgive. now, i don't think this is a wrong approach to doing good. i think it's absolutely vital that we go out of our way to be aware of the suffering around us--both locally and distantly--and to then do everything in our power to aid those who suffer. and the external ideals that give rise to my vision of the 'good' life are important and beautiful. but today, as i re-read my post on confidence (i needed the pep-talk, even if it was self-authored), i got to thinking about this state of affairs.

a great deal of my current depression and paralysis arises out of an almost inescapable awareness that my life does not match the 'good' life i envision. i'm not married. i don't have children. and when i'm brutally honest with myself, i acknowledge that it's entirely possible (and perhaps entirely likely) that i'll never marry or have children (though i'm pretty adamant about adopting if i remain single). i don't have my own place to live and sometimes despair of being able to have my own home surrounded by beautiful growing things. every morning i start my day with a dose of npr. and while i can't imagine not doing so, the news sometimes leaves me feeling utterly incapable of doing anything meaningful to advance the causes of social equity. while i occasionally refuse shopping bags because i don't want to cause waste and walk because i don't want to waste gas and throw my cans and bottles into the recycling bin, i'm shamefully wasteful and as consumerist as the next american. the discrepancy between my reality and the external ideals i adhere to occasionally strikes me as so great that i become paralyzed: incapable of making the ideals real but loving them and believing in them so much that i cannot simply ignore them, i end up doing nothing. nothing but berate myself for my failure, that is.

in the last several years, this has been most pronounced in my academic career. in part this manifests itself in the clash between perfectionism and grand ideas on the one hand and deadlines and practical expectations on the other. like the paper i wrote last february--the one i had to write so i could return to school full time. a friend read it for me and commented that the ideas were the makings of a dissertation, not a seminar paper. and he was right. half my battle was pursuing ideas and connections on such a large scale that i couldn't make them fit the parameters of the assignment. and the other half was that nothing i wrote seemed good enough. the reality of the paper just didn't match the elusive vision in my head of what i wanted to say. and as a result i stewed and stewed and stewed and drove myself (and others) a bit batty. in the end, i wrote the damn paper. and in the end, it was good enough.

my academic paralysis has also resulted from the apparent clash of ideals i mentioned earlier. intellectually i understand that pursuing my degree and my career does not shut off the possibility of marriage and motherhood. in fact, given my passion for what i do and my commitment to education and gender equity, i'm more likely to attract the kind of man i'd be interested in marrying if i continue my education than if i did not. but with nearly 32 years of mormon religious education under my belt, there's an undeniably real undercurrent in my psyche that suggests that the more educated i become, the less likely i am to marry and, by extension, have children. i know that's wrong. and i reject as deeply flawed every understanding of mormon teaching that suggests that women should not seek fulfillment as individuals or that they should stifle their own passions and drives in order to marry (these understandings are generally not overt, but rather culturally implied). in my opinion, a woman stifling herself in such a way is nothing short of a recipe for disaster. but the years of lessons and talks and blessings have successfully induced me to believe in the ideal of marriage and family as the 'good' life so thoroughly that it continues to govern my subconscious in spite of the beliefs and ideals i more consciously espouse. and then there's the reality that being a liberal or a feminist or an intellectual single mormon woman drastically reduces the pool of potential mormon spouses. being all three sometimes feels like a death sentence where marrying a mormon is concerned...

combine this state of affairs with the fact that my current commitments (grad school, church callings, family obligations, trying to have something of a social life) make it nearly impossible to do good in the prescribed ways that meet general needs (service as relief work, either locally or globally), and i not only feel paralyzed but selfish and thoughtless, too. and before i know it, i seem not only to fail at leading a 'good' life, but also at doing good. my life ends up feeling insular and isolated. and it doesn't even compensate by at least fitting the mold of the 'good' life as premised on external ideals.

as i re-read the words of proverbs 3 today, a very simple realization struck me--one of those recognitions that is so simple that it almost shouldn't have to be articulated. if revelation is action--is moving forward into the terrifying void of an untried and unfamiliar life path, to paraphrase my previous post--and that action should take the shape of 'withhold[ing] not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it,' then what good must i do? what action must i take? what is in the power of my hand to do? recognizing need and suffering in others and alleviating it is certainly part of that action. but i don't think that good is exclusively reactionary in nature. i think it's also (and perhaps primarily) constructive and active in nature. it's using the gifts i've been given. all of them, not just those that will fulfill a prescription for the 'good' life. it's letting my passion for learning and teaching flourish. it's challenging my students' foundational premises so that they think and see the world in new ways. it's seizing the opportunities life presents and making them my own, complete with my own bizarre combination of apparently incongruous ideals and commitments.

in short, i think actively doing good requires being myself. doing what i do. thinking what i think. letting the 'good' life and good actions come from within as i reach towards the external ideals i love. seems rather simple, doesn't it. but it hit me pretty hard this afternoon. i don't want to jettison the external ideals i love and strive to realize. but i need to allow my own passions and abilities and ideas to combine with those external ideals in a process that results in a sum that is truly greater than its parts.

infiltrated.
four years ago when i started my phd program, i couldn't listen to music and work. anything other than classical music distracted me. it got in my head. made me want to listen to the words, which kept me from capturing the words i was reading. its beat became an incessant, demanding irritant that made it nearly impossible to concentrate.

and now--now i can't imagine working without music. i'm sitting in the library grading papers right now. listening to the brazilian girls. and as i was typing a comment on the last paper i graded, i realized i was typing in time to the music. which made me realize the extent to which music has infiltrated my life. it's rhythms and language and energy coloring my world in ways music never has before. i'll never know it the way some of my friends do. i'll always carry with me the near-silence of my childhood and teen years (no television til i was 14; no real radio listening til i was 16). but that silence shapes and informs my listening as much as my friends' knowledge shapes theirs, and not just in negative ways.

thanks go to my friends (you know who you are) who have pushed me (gently and sometimes not so gently) towards infusing my life with music. i find myself dancing often. sometimes just inside. sometimes literally. and the old men in the library can look at me funny all they want as i do so, sitting in my chair bopping to the music while i work. at least i'm not giving in to the compulsion to sing out loud...

five.
questions from caroline, who in turn got her questions from jana.

1. who are your two favorite authors--one prose, one poetry, and why?
ah. the favorite author question which always stymies me. i can't definitively name favorites, but i'll give you two from my larger group of favorites. poetry: emily dickinson. she's always up there. because she packs a lot into a small package. because she's irreverently spiritual. because she has a slant approach to truth. prose: i really truly do not know. so i'll just say arundhati roy cause i'm looking forward to reading the god of small things again. it's a gorgeous, disturbing novel that completely entranced me on my first reading and about which i have written twice and about which i will undoubtedly write again. a fascinating examination of boundaries and identity in relationship to love.

2. what were the saddest and happiest moments of your day (friday, when caroline sent these)?
saddest: that's tough cause friday was all in all a very good day. maybe getting home from the arcade fire concert at 1 in the morning and realizing that i couldn't hear them live again. i quickly decided i should go to their show in l.a. next month. that's a pretty rare day for me; i usually have much sadder moments brought on by my own ineptitude or by the news. happiest: well, there was the post-concert euphoria that stayed with me all day. but a single moment? probably while i was looking at matisse's 'the black shawl (lorette vii)' because i had one of those moments when image and reality came together in a provocative way.

3. what is your favorite thing to do on a saturday?
getting out in the world to discover something new, whether it's a museum or other cultural event or a restaurant or a mountain trail. and preferably done in company with good friends.

4. if you were a congresswoman, what is the first thing you would try to accomplish?
well, there are a million things i'd like to see change. but highest priority in my mind is addressing international crises--first and foremost the situation in darfur. i don't know exactly what steps i'd take, but there are a few. divestment of any and all government funds invested in corporations that do business with the sudanese government. imposition of sanctions against the sudanese government. a more powerful mandate for the african union and greater u.n. involvement. there's a start.

5. what's your favorite flower?
another impossible question. there are just way too many. but i'm going with the predictable: roses. but not for the predictable reasons. i like hot house roses, but i prefer the more chaotic beauty of roses on bushes. there's just something so profligate in their beauty. that said, i have yet to meet a flower i didn't love.

{if you want five questions of your own, leave me a comment telling me so. you should include either an email address so i can send you questions. or you can leave a link to your blog and i'll post questions in a comment.}

ideal/idol.
as a teenager, i decided that when i grew up i wanted to be the mother of a large family. i planned the rest of my education based on that decision. i had my life mapped out. after high school, i would attend brigham young university where i would certainly find and marry my future husband. i would begin a major in secondary education, which would enable me to work in a profession compatible with mothering children--but only if life circumstances forced me to work. and i was prepared to drop out of college so my future husband could pursue his career plans as necessary. i would not put off having children for pecuniary reasons. i would be a wonderful wife and mother.

my plans didn't work out exactly as i envisioned them. right in the middle of my undergraduate education, the spirit prompted me that i should more seriously pursue my education--including a graduate education--in order to allow me to teach. i knew teaching was a gift from god and that were i not to teach, i would be failing him. i'm 31 now. i'm unmarried and have no children. i finished my undergraduate degree. and i continued to earn a master's degree. i am currently working on a PhD. i still want to marry and have children--more than i want anything else. i will not give up on that vision for myself. but my life is very different from what i envisioned it would be.

in the april 2007 ensign, shauna bird dunn shares her own teenage vision of her future life and how that life radically changed. after having spent years planning a high-power corporate career, she felt prompted to turn down a dream job in favor of a job that would allow her to have children. ultimately she left work altogether to become a stay-home mom. i respect dunn for her decisions. they were clearly very difficult decisions to make. and she made them in keeping with personal revelation about god's plan for her.

that said, i was troubled by her article. dunn creates a fairly stark opposition between the life she envisioned as the "leader of a large corporation" and her actual life as a stay-home mom. she writes: "i have stayed up many nights to comfort a sick or frightened child instead of staying up preparing a presentation for the board of directors; worn clothes covered in peanut butter smears instead of power suits; cleaned my home each day instead of enjoyed a penthouse view from my office; bandaged 'owies' and encouraged piano practice instead of handing out performance reviews; and enjoyed hugs and kisses instead of stock options as my compensation plan." dunn also describes her dreams of working as a high-powered corporate leader in terms of "wearing power suits to my penthouse office, dazzling my co-workers and employees with my expertise, and cashing paychecks that truly reflected my value."

the message is clear: being a stay-home mom is rewarding in very real, deeply human ways. it is full of love and compassion and kindness. it is selfless. pursuing the high power career with its "unbelievable benefits" is actually about shallow considerations like clothing, how high up the building one's office is situated, wowing other people, and making lots and lots of money; it is not about true fulfillment, passion, or serving others.

part of the problem here is that dunn is clearly discussing labor in a very capitalist system, a system in which money and power are the measure of all that is worthy. and she compares it to labor (the labor of mothering full time) that is not recognized in terms of money or power within our capitalist society. she is participating in a conception of 'work' that fails to recognize that leading which is done for money should be similar in kind to leading that is done for christ. in other words, leaders in the workplace should be servant leaders every bit as much as leaders in the church or the family. but i digress; servant-leaders in the workplace is a topic for a different post.

the thing that really bothers me about dunn's article is that she portrays women who want to work as supremely shallow. they are motivated by money. or by clothes. or by power. or by prestige. they are not motivated by passion. they are not trying to use god-given abilities and talents--talents that they will lose if they do not use them. they are the demonized other to the stay-home mother.

i want to give a voice to those women who pursue a career not because they want money or prestige or to be one of the boys; but because they are driven to do a certain work. because they know that if they do not do that work, they will fail god. because that work will allow them to be co-creators with god. i want to work not because i'll see my name in lights or have multiple publications or be able to append three degrees to my name when i sign letters; i want to work because i think teaching will let me do god's work in ways that nothing else will allow, not even motherhood. i want to work because teaching will give voice to passions and ideas that, if they remain bottled up inside me, will otherwise explode.

and i want to be a wife and a mother. the difference between dunn and i was she actually had a choice about following her teenage vision of a life. i have not had that choice. my opening paragraphs are not simply a subtle parody of dunn's opening paragraphs; they are an accurate statement of my dream for myself when i was a teenager. my life has unfolded in such a way that i have never had the opportunity to make the choices that would allow me to marry and have children. instead, i have had to grapple with the darkness of not being able to make that choice. but, like dunn, i have learned that "i am happiest when i follow the lord's plan for my life rather than my own personal plans."

dunn's article illustrates the great faith it takes some women to give up work and instead become a stay-home mother. i honor that faith. but this decision is idealized to such an extent that it is often idolized in the church. my decision, which mirrors in inverse dunn's decision, also required a great deal of faith. the decision to continue pursuing the work and education the spirit prompted me to pursue was a decision premised on faith--faith that doing so would not foreclose the opportunity to marry and bear children; faith that i have the capacity to do the work i feel prompted to do (believing this is an ongoing battle for me); faith that i can navigate the sometimes troubled waters of being a mormon, a feminist, and an intellectual. accepting the fact that my righteous desire for marriage and family may never be fulfilled, and finding the strength to build a life for myself alone, has required more faith than i realized i had.

dunn's almost-glib dismissal of women who work in favor of women who mother conceals the passion and spiritual commitments that inform some women's commitment to work. and the idealization/idolization of stay-home motherhood her article represents ignores the reality of so many women in the church--those who are single, whether with or without children; those who must work for financial reaons; those who cannot have children; and many others. it is time to celebrate motherhood and marriage without doing so at the expense of real women whose lives do not, and often cannot, conform to an ideal/idol.

{this was cross-posted on Exponent II.}

attention.
just wanted to call your attention to that new link at the top of my sidebar. time to work a little change in my life. and while what i like may tell you a lot about who i am, i think what i do will tell you every bit as much (of course, those two things are often the same).

beauty.
a reflection on female beauty. in two parts.

being beautiful. growing up i thought i was ugly. i was very thin, with knobby knees and generally funny looking legs. my lips were very full and i hated my smile. my hair was first straight as a stick and blah in color and then, after puberty, thick and so wavy i didn't have any idea how to manage it. my face was long and seemed totally uninteresting. my only good point was that i was naturally thin, though that had the downside of meaning i was also naturally without much in the way of curves.

when i was 17, my conviction of my own ugliness cracked for the first time. i broke my arm, and in the emergency room they taped a fashion magazine around my arm as a splint. when the doctor cut it off, he told me i was lucky--the models like the one on the cover of that magazine usually had to inject their lips with collagen, but my lips were naturally full the way they wanted theirs to be. that doctor was simply trying to distract me from the pain of a broken bone. but his casual comment shed a whole new light on my own perception of myself. it had never occurred to me that one of my most hated features could actually be considered beautiful.

in spite of that momentary flash of insight, i was 22 or 23 before i ever thought of myself as attractive. and it took a couple more years to believe i was beautiful, and that only happened in moments. and it only happened after cutting all of my hair off, rejecting many beauty conventions (including wearing make up daily), and refusing to dress myself according to trends unless i liked them for themselves and unless i liked them on myself. i'm very comfortable with my appearance now. physically, i think that i am generally a plain woman who is sometimes pretty and occasionally beautiful. i know how to dress myself. i know how to use make up and i wear it when i feel like it. i love the silver that has been showing up in my dark brown hair for a long time now. most importantly, i've learned that my beauty comes from my mind and my soul and my laughter.

in large part, i have my mother to thank for both my childhood/teenage opinion of my own beauty (this is not a criticism of my mother) and for my current acceptance of my own body and beauty. my mother never stressed being "in style," though she likes pretty clothes and bought us pretty clothes. she was not tapped into trends and didn't shop for particular brands or in certain stores in order to ensure that we were dressed stylishly. she didn't interfere in our own particular tastes. and she herself aged with grace and beauty. i also have my father to thank, because he always made it abundantly clear that he found my mother beautiful and sexy--not in spite of, but because of her gorgeous grey hair and her curvy body which bore seven children. my parents' honesty about physical beauty and their lack of concern for the beauty myths promoted in our society made my own open attitude about beauty--both my own and others'--possible.

selling beauty. this morning, 'day to day' aired a story about dove's new 'pro-age' ad campaign. photos taken by annie liebowitz of women over 50 posing nude. no air-brushing. with the tagline "beauty has no age limit." the ads use a variety of women--mostly white, but a couple of african-americans and at least one who looks mediterranean. and all of them beautiful, though not all of them beautiful in necessarily conventional ways. some are immaculately toned and fit. others are not. all of them show the marks of age in one form or another--grey hair, wrinkles, age spots. and they are not professional models.

part of me is bothered by this. advertising and marketing can get under my skin. i recognize that the majority of the women in this campaign are toned in a way that the majority of american women are not, whether they are over 50 or not. and a photographer of annie liebowitz's caliber can capture beauty in a subject that many people would have a hard time seeing in the live subject. dove is still selling a myth of beauty in some ways. and that is deeply troubling.

but another part of me loves this campaign. i think it's wonderful that dove is not touching up the photos. and it's so very vital to send the message that age is not the enemy of beauty. that beauty is not about matching some platonic ideal of the female form and face. that one needn't tuck and lift and snip and squeeze in order to be beautiful. and the fact of the matter is that in american society, beauty is bought and sold. not just the products that we use to make ourselves beautiful, but the idea of beauty. more than anything else, it is magazines and television and films that provide us with our ideas of beauty. if dove can sell an idea of beauty that is more realistic than the idea sold on the runways of new york, london, and milan; if they can create an ideal that embraces age and experience rather than pre-pubescent blankness; if they can show a beauty that is real rather than imagined, i'm all for it.

(r)evolution.
tonight my mom brought on a blast of reminiscence. she's been gathering up some of my sister's old things and shipping them out to her in NY where jeni now lives with her husband and daughters. and as she was sorting, she found an old craft project that jeni and i had both done. we grew up painting plaster things--christmas ornaments, plaques, figurines. we loved going to the plaster shop that was a couple miles from our house. my mom would load us all up in our big old passenger van and we'd be off to wander through the shop, contemplating the difficult dilemma of which thing we wanted to paint this time. i remember this particular project. i must have been ten or eleven. and i just knew it was the finest bit of plaster painting i had ever done. and i remember secretly feeling sorry for jeni cause hers wasn't as beautiful as mine.

if there's any single object that could represent me and all of my hopes and dreams as a little girl--and a not so little girl--this is probably it. pink. and flowery. in a big poofy skirt. with a baby. and those books--the complete works of l.m. montgomery, purchased one at a time on my weekly excursions to the bookstore--were some of my favorite reading as a pre-teen and on through my first couple of years at byu. and of course i painted the object myself. because everyone knows that a good woman can make all kinds of things from scratch or craft in myriad ways.

those of you who know me now but didn't know me, say, twelve years ago are probably a little bit stunned. but it's the truth. i was the poster child of conservative mormon femininity. well, maybe with a couple of minor exceptions. i did love backpacking, after all. but that kind of fits in with pioneer trekking or something. and i was really into school and books (not just those by l.m. montgomery) and had a career path in mind. but everything, including the unfeminine backpacking and the career path, had a spin to it that pointed in one direction--wife and mother. at home, of course. i think the family i envisioned at that point in time was 8 kids. and a husband, of course. and i wasn't sure if i would finish my bachelor's or not.

obviously my life didn't work out the way i envisioned it when i packed my bags and moved to the Y at age 17. i now have far more education than i ever dreamed of. i'm more committed to a career than i would have found acceptable then. and almost every political or social opinion i have now--imagine the reverse and ascribe those positions to my 17-year-old self. gun control? hell no! (except i wouldn't have said "hell.") environmentalism? that's for fruity liberals. america fighting a war to "preserve freedom" and "promote democracy" in the middle-east? strike up the patriotic band!! feminism? that's a naughty word...

clearly i wasn't an entirely foreign being to who i am now. i valued education. i loved reading. i loved art and culture. i have always been a thinker, committed to examination and evaluation. i simply had not had much opportunity--or a reason--to examine the opinions that had been instilled in me by my parents and the other adults in my life. my platform in high school was that i was mormon and mormons believe "X."

i'm still a mormon. and i still believe most of what mormons believe, at least when we're talking about doctrinal beliefs. i've long since jettisoned much of the mormon cultural fluff that i accepted as a kid. and i have byu to thank for it. i went away to college knowing exactly what made me different from everyone around me. and what made me different was my mormonness. after two years of absolute fun (with occasional academic work) and a summer of dating a baptist, i found myself lost in all that mormonness swarming across byu's campus. and it forced me to examine my beliefs and make them my own. it wasn't a short process. but it helped me figure out what i think rather than what mormons think. and it taught me the value of ongoing re-examination. the person i am now would have probably chosen almost any university other than byu. but i wouldn't change it for the world. if i hadn't gone to the Y, i may have been a pink-flowery-clothing-wearing mother of eight by now.

pig.
do you have strange verbal compulsions? or am i the only one? and i'm not talking about tourette's. (aside: if i had to be afflicted with a neurological disorder, i think i might choose tourette's. i could then swear with impunity.)

for a long time, i couldn't hiccup without saying "hiccup" immediately after the hiccup ended. i don't know why. it's totally bizarre and completely inexplicable from any logical or rational perspective. i don't do it as much anymore, but once in a while it pops out and then the people i'm with look at me like i've just done something wacky and i can't figure out why. because, you know--when you hiccup, you say hiccup. it's just what you do.

my favorite of my verbal habits has to do with pigs (but not mini ones). you all know that fantastic scene in the princess bride when wesley, the dread pirate roberts, lies completely incapacitated on a bed describing to prince humperdinck what it means to fight to the pain. and when that manly man the prince attempts to call his bluff, wesley replies, "it's possible . . . pig." it is impossible--literally impossible--for me to hear someone make the statement "it's possible" without thinking "pig." and i almost always utter that "pig" before i think about whether or not i should. so if i randomly call you "pig" someday, take a moment and think back over the conversation. and you'll know whether i'm actually calling you a pig, or whether i just can't control myself in response to some statement of possibility.

needs.
i've decided that since i use google to find everything else, i should also use it to discover what exactly i need. because i clearly haven't been able to figure it out on my own and google is like the 21st century version of a seer. so, with thanks to marigold who inspired this and my last post, google tells me that i need the following:

• amelia needs you!
• amelia needs to turn her attention to regaining her husband's love
• amelia needs 3-4 hours of exercise daily
• amelia needs a haircut and a real job
• amelia needs to rise to the challenge
• amelia needs help
• amelia needs to pray for getting her horrible grades up
• amelia needs him
• amelia needs constant support and encouragement and this can be achieved with outside help and financial aid in the form of regular donations or a monthly debit order
• amelia needs attention to details
• amelia needs to get to the library
• amelia needs a desk that meets her work needs
• amelia is really a princess, and in order to break the spell she is under, she needs a kiss before two cycles of the moon pass
• amelia needs someone who is understanding, intelligent and likes planning ahead like she does
• amelia needs to learn impulse control
• amelia needs a good nap

and

• amelia doesn't need "big assets"

i also discovered another amelia in the blogosphere who has done this precise search. i didn't steal all of her amelia needs; i only used the ones that my own google search turned up.

now i think i should feel slightly disturbed. the entries in color are so accurate that i couldn't have stated them better myself. i made one gray because it's essentially accurate--i could certainly use a kiss within the next two moon cycles--but the princess and spell parts can only be interpreted metaphorically.

and you? do you have needs?

fantasy.
if i were a paper doll, i'd look like this. well, i might not be wearing earrings. cause i only wear them occasionally. and it's only about a 30% chance i'll be wearing my glasses. and the puppy is a figment of my imagination for now, but i'd have one if i could. the slightly funky style and the spiky short hair--that's pretty accurate. and i suppose i should be honest and say that my thighs are a smidgeon larger than hers. but you know, if i can't fantasize about having perfect legs when envisioning my paper doll self, when can i?

if you too would like a lovely way to completely waste time on the internet, go build yourself a doll. maybe one of these times i'll build myself a fantasy man to go with that fantasy dog and those fantasy legs.

struggle.
it has been a dark few months. dark with flashes of light. because god is good and because no matter how dark things get—and they have gotten rather dark at moments—i can’t help seeing some of the beauties and graces god gives me regularly. but i have been turning away from those moments, back into a landscape of despair and discouragement and self-disgust. i have struggled to do anything worth while. i have woken almost every morning wondering what it is i live for, what reason i have to do what i have to do. if i didn’t have unavoidable obligations, i don’t honestly know where i would be right now. the impulse to run, to hide, to avoid everything, to just go away has been strong. and i have done so in some ways. i have turned my back on so many things that i treasure. on myself and the gifts i have always loved. on my friends and family on occasion. on my education and my goals. on my understanding of the gospel and my relationship with god. faced by the pain that i had come to associate with these things, i simply turned away.

last week i broke. after saying the same things over and over for months, after having lambasted myself as lazy for not changing when i knew what i needed to change, after having felt anger and hatred for myself for not having the strength to take the simple actions i needed to take in order to help myself, i finally realized that i could not do this. this wasn’t a new realization. i’ve been realizing exactly that for a long time. but i have always rejected it. i’ve always adamantly insisted that if only i would get up earlier or work harder or eat better or some combination of the three or any number of other practical solutions, then i would feel better and i would be able to move on. but last week i came face to face with the realization that i. can. not. help. myself.

it was a strange moment. full of grief. and full of grace. it left me weeping at my own inadequacy—past and present. but it also left me turning to god. so bereft of any hope that i could save myself that i was forced to turn to him and put myself into his hands. i had been so full of despair and afraid of life that day that i didn’t even trust myself to do that little—to actually say to god, “i trust thee. please help.” so i sought help in taking even that small step by going to talk to an ecclesiastical leader who is also an old friend.

as we talked and as we turned to the scriptures for insight and guidance, a beautiful thing happened. he kept turning to passages that spoke to me. that summoned up some principle or truth that has long been dear to me, that i have studied. and i felt the threads of my life twine and knit together. abstract lines of thought and study became urgently real in my moment of need. i left that night trusting god as i never have before. since then, my soul has known peace.

i know that things will not be simple. i know that i will still struggle, that i will still have some of the same problems i have had for the last two or three years. but i also know that i now have hope. that life looks beautiful again. that i see opportunities. that i recognize gifts. that i love myself again. and with that knowledge and that outlook—with god’s assurance and care—i can face the struggle.

101 things to do.
so as i was browsing the web (as i am wont to do), i ran across a meme on another blog. the object: identify 101 things i want to do in the next 1001 days. and it seemed like a fun way to identify and do all kinds of things i'd like to do, from simple activities to traveling to accomplishing major goals. i start tomorrow, march 28, 2007, and hope to finish by christmas eve 2009. activities in progress are in italics. activities accomplished are crossed out. and when i write about them, i'll link my entry.

{note: i dated this a year ago so i could link it in my sidebar without it showing up in the body of my blog. it may be an awkward way of accomplishing my goal, but what can i say...i'm only somewhat technologically savvy.}

1. gain a reading ability in spanish; i.e., pass my minor language exam

2. visit a cultural site once a month. some possibilities: the getty, the getty villa, the new moma (NYC), moca (LA), the norton simon, the museum of jurassic technologies, the art institute of chicago, cabazon’s highway dinosaurs, the legion of honor (san francisco), hollyhock house, etc., etc.

• april 2007: the norton simon in pasadena
• may 2007: the greek theatre in griffith park in l.a. i'm looking forward to more trips there and exploring the park much more extensively.
• july 2007: the WACK! feminist art exhibit at the geffen contemporary. a fascinating exhibit. i particularly enjoyed discovering judy chicago's work.
• august 2007: a month that brought plenty of culture. the highlights included trips to falling water (which was so incredible), the hyde collection (a small but wonderful art collection near my sister's house), and (finally) a visit to the isabella stewart gardner museum (where i saw one of my favorite sargents).
• september 2007: an afternoon immersed in poetry. perhaps not the typical cultural experience, but beautiful nonetheless.
• october 2007: oh which one to choose? i think i'll just say the whole weekend of october 26 - 28. great food. great music. great city. great company.
  
• november 2007: seeing wicked with my mom, sister, and two nieces; in l.a. the night before thanksgiving. katiana's first theater experience ever, which she positively loved.
• december 2008: my first ever excursion to see a comedy show of any variety--j(wh)'s sister performing as part of dance magic, dance! in l.a. so fun.
  

3. visit falling water. i suppose i should tell shaun this is on the agenda for my next trip to d.c. update: this is in the works. jeni and i are heading down to see shaun and alice this month and plan a stop at falling waters while en route home. final update: shaun and two of his boys, A and W, and i went to visit falling water in august. so incredible.

4. swim in the ocean. this is a bigger deal than you think, since i *never* actually swim at the beach. brrrrr!

5. climb mt. whitney. hopefully as part of the john muir trail. but maybe all by itself.

6. road trip up the west coast. update 11/07: i made a road trip north through california, but what i mean by this is driving up the coast, not just traveling north through california.

7. pass my PhD qualifying exams. update 1/08: this would be easier if i actually finished building my lists.

8. be able to run three miles without stopping.

9. travel to a foreign country. maybe even more than once. on another continent, if possible.

10. read the bible, book of mormon, doctrine & covenants, and pearl of great price. a challenge, since i tend to study scriptures with a cross-reference approach rather than a read-straight-through approach. (0/4)

11. go to mexico! having lived within three hours of the border most of my life, you’d think i’d have done this by now. i haven’t.

12. pot an herb garden and use it for cooking.

13. save up for a new camera and, once i have it, use it often.

14. write more letters. real letters. that go through the mail.

15. pay off credit card debt. now that is a worthy goal.

16. go to a concert at least once a quarter. and not a classical one. rock. folk. blues. jazz. in other words, work on making up for a long stretch of music oblivion.

• Q1 (april - june 2007): the arcade fire at spreckels theater, san diego. wow. just wow. the arcade fire, take two, at the greek, los angeles.
  
• Q2 (july - september 2007): a beautiful evening taking in band of horses, andrew bird, and the decemberists at the hollywood bowl, los angeles. stephen stills at the house of blues, los angeles. a synaesthetic evening with ryan adams at the wilshire in los angeles.
• Q3 (october - december 2007): the bridge school benefit concert, where i saw neil young, my morning jacket, regina spektor, and tom waits (among others). and regina spektor on halloween.
  

17. go to a classical concert at least once a quarter. disney hall. segerstrom hall. and definitely something outdoors once in a while.

18. write a children’s book. just cause i think it would be interesting to try.

19. de-junk. positively herculean. update 8/07: i dug out my study and my bedroom in advance of 20 family members coming to town to visit. the job isn't done, but i've made a good start. update 1/08: yeah. all the work done in the summer? reversed. and now i need to start again.

20. finish at least three chapters of my dissertation. more if possible. (0/3)

21. present a paper at a conference. more than once.

22. write something every single day. no matter what it is. just something.

23. date someone. (this list of lofty goals needed some comic relief.) update 1/08: i am stunned--delightfully stunned--to report that this is happening.

24. read a book for the sheer pleasure of reading it at least once a quarter. (when you read for a living, you have to plan in pleasure reading.)

25. go for a walk—outside (malls, museums, libraries, and other buildings don’t count)—once a week. (36/145)

26. apply for a job. and hopefully have an interview at MLA set up.

27. learn how to play chess. re-learn backgammon and checkers. (0/3)

28. learn 4 new pieces on the piano. (0/4)

29. finish reading the complete novels of jane austen, the juvenilia, and susan. (i only need to read sense & sensibility to finish the novels.) (0/3)

30. go stargazing. maybe in joshua tree. maybe with shaun again.

31. see the desert in bloom. hopefully one of the next two winters will be wetter than this one has been.

32. try a food i've never eaten before once a month. or one i've always said i disliked. (11/33)

• galia · guava · taro root (with black sticky rice and coconut) · apricots (white ones, to be exact) · corn tortillas (always have said i didn't like them; got enchiladas with corn tortillas last week and loved them; it might help that they were made fresh at the stand where i got them) · tamarind--a bit spicy, a bit sweet · soup dumplings · mushrooms · ramen · kuromame (at least i think that's what they're called; japanese sweet black beans) · pho
  

33. spend an afternoon people watching.

34. hike the north to south lake loop and see the beauty of evolution valley for myself.

35. hike at least one new trail each summer. (0/3)

36. shave my head. i've been saying for a long time i want to do it. maybe to celebrate passing exams? or maybe just for the hell of it sometime.

37. kayak on the bay.

38. go to the beach once a month. i love the ocean (though i don't particularly love swimming in it or sunbathing on the beach), but i rarely go to the beach. time to take advantage of being so close. (2/33)

39. watch the godfather. probably the whole series, though i'm aware that the third one is supposed to not be so great. and it's my best friend's favorite movie, so it's about time i watched it.

40. take a bookbinding class. i have no idea how plausible this is, but i really want to learn how to hand make books.

41. read jesus the christ. it's been on my list for a long time. and my parents bought me a lovely leather bound edition for my birthday last year. time to read.

42. make at least one leper bandage each month. my life is busy and it's hard to find time to do humanitarian service the way i would like to. but i can crochet while watching tv or movies, and i will watch tv and movies. (2/33)

43. lose a few pounds. at least ten. maybe 15. not because i think i'm fat. my body is fine. but half my clothes don't fit and i can't afford to buy new ones. so lose weight it is. i wonder if there's a cheese, bread, and fruit diet...

44. read the constitution, complete with all amendments. i've read bits of it, but never the whole thing.

45. donate blood. for some reason i've never done this. i don't even know my blood type.

46. learn my blood type.

47. read shakespeare. not all of it, cause i won't have that kind of reading time on my hands what with exams and all. but some. my shakespearean ignorance is kind of embarrassing (though i usually laugh at it).

48. go christmas caroling. every year i want to do this, and i never do. if you're interested, let me know. update 12/07: i didn't go caroling this year, but i did go to a christmas party that was all about singing carols.

49. participate in hearts and hands. i really should take advantage of service opportunities when they're given me.

50. read 365 ways to change the world. do what i can based on its ideas. or based on the accompanying website.

51. listen to a completely new band at least once a week (and trust me--my ignorance and seymour's tutelage make this possible; and to define completely new: meaning a band i've never consciously listened to, even if i've heard their stuff on the radio or something). (10/145)

• the who · architecture in helsinki · a band of bees · band of horses · bjork · peter, bjorn & john · solomon burke · feist · a girl called eddy · electrelane
  

52. write a "this i believe" essay and submit it to NPR's series.

53. run a 5K for charity.

54. try that fabulous pizza place RAF has recommended.

55. go parasailing. i've always thought it sounds fun. though i'll say up front that if cost is prohibitive, this one's going to be struck from the list.

56. attend the los angeles times festival of books. April 28, 2007

57. extend a micro-loan (or multiple loans) through kiva or some similar organization.

58. take measures to preserve my sanity through the upcoming 2008 presidential campaign; i.e., get cable tv so i can watch the daily show. {mid-may 2007. i didn't get cable, but my brother did. complete with dvr or tivo or whatever so i can record my shows. i'm in love with john stewart. and i'm finally enjoying house.}

59. wash my car. {april 16, 07; of course i really should do it more than once.} laugh all you want, but if you could see my car you'd realize that i don't get around to this very often. and which leads me to...

60. clean out my trunk. what a disaster! of course, one never knows when one will need a guide to the university's study abroad opportunities or a comprehensive anthology of literary criticism...

61. go to the austin city limits festival. their line up this year is incredible. i'd love to go this year, but i'm not sure i'll be able to swing it. we'll have to see.

62. go to a cinespia screening at the hollywood forever cemetery. i've been wanting to do this ever since a former roommate told me about it. films projected on the side of the mausoleum. they tried to show night of the living dead there a few years ago, but the cemetery clientele objected. well, their living relatives did anyway...

63. visit san luis obispo. i keep hearing how gorgeous it is. and i've heard there's a fantastic bookstore there. i obviously need to go. plus nicole and i have been wanting to take another jaunt up the coast. it's time. update 11/07: i made a detour to SLO on my recent roadtrip, but it doesn't quite count.

64. take a roadtrip without a destination. just get on the road and drive. until i see something that makes me want to stop.

65. see wilco in concert. before the end of the summer. that means either going to austin city limits or arranging my summer travels so i can be back in l.a. for their show at the greek on august 29. update: i managed to get tickets for the august show at the greek, which determined my summer travel schedule. i'm counting down the days... update 9/07: saw wilco at the greek. incredible.

continued january 2008

66. improve my swing dancing, something i only started doing a month ago (november 2007) and i'd like to be a whole lot more confident.

67. see big sur. i've been wanting to for years. time to do it.

68. finally visit the museum of jurassic technology. i keep making half-hearted plans to do it, but i haven't managed it yet.

69. move into my own place again. it's been good to be at home. but it's time to be on my own again.

70. go biking at least three times a week. work my way up to the long rides my dad and j(wh) do. maybe even a century ride--have to see how much i fall in love with it.

71. participate in a political protest. maybe on the 5th anniversary of the war this march.

{to be continued}

toothache.
i'm feeling alone tonight. maybe it's sitting in a cafe with my headphones on, seeing people together while i'm locked into my insular mode of work and music drowning out the sounds of the life around me. maybe it's that my teeth hurt because i desperately need to go to the dentist and that reminds me of russel banks' book Affliction in which the protagonist experiences a toothache that gets worse and worse as his life falls into ruin, culminating in a scene in which he wrenches the tooth from his jaw with pliers immediately before his sanity snaps altogether. i can't see the movie just because of that scene. maybe it's that i have so much work to do, and all of that work always reminds me of the fact that i'm working for nothing because i don't count as something myself--i only count as something if i'm embedded in family and i'm not.

so i ply myself with mindless diversions. not working. not thinking. not connecting. all the while presenting a mask of happiness good enough to deceive almost anyone.

i need a moment of grace. a seagull flying low down high street and hanging a left onto congress.

falling with style.
this round of grad school has been an exercise in sheer determination in the face of what always seem like utterly insurmountable odds. i find myself fighting constantly for breath; trying to scrape together enough thoughts on a similar topic to call it a paper or a presentation. fighting my conviction that i don't have what it takes. battling all the cognitive dissonance i experience with some regularity as a result of my bizarre mental-emotional constellation of feminism, mormonism, intellectualism, and the never-absent need for marriage. i invariably end up a crying mess at more than one moment each quarter. and then i think that i just can't do it and i don't know why i ever tried and i should quit. but i keep coming back. either i am a masochist or i am really driven. when i'm enjoying my studies as much as i have been recently, i know i'm doing it because i love the thinking and the teaching and the exploring ideas. i love seeing my students work through ideas and i love thinking new things because of what they said. but when i'm stressed to the breaking point and i'm lonely and i realize that there is no way humanly possible to complete all my work, i collapse into a weepy mess--something that happens unfortunately often in front of other people.

regardless of my mental state, school seems like an exercise in survival. i've begun to reach a point where i realize that this is just the way it is and that it means nothing about my own abilities. grad school just kind of stinks, to put it oh-so-eloquently. today as i walked home from teaching a lesson which mercifully went well, given the fact that i hadn't really thought about it until immediately before teaching it, i called my little sister to say hi. and as i was explaining to her how my week has been (and it's been hellish), i thought of that scene in toy story where buzz "flies" and woody responds, "that's not flying ... that's falling with style!" it occurred to me that grad school is exactly that. it's not flying. it's falling--with style. taking the jump off some high point and hoping that as you fall you find ideas and thoughts and works and projects that give you enough bounce to make it look like you're flying, even though in reality all you're doing is plummeting down, drawn by the inexorable pull of gravity.

maybe, if i fall with enough style, i'll make it through and even end up with a job some day. here's to being stylish.

and you thought you knew me...
i got this from dora and while i don't always do these things, her very first answer made me laugh hard enough that i decided i owed her. with no further ado...

four jobs i've had in my life
sticker-putter-onner for a make-up company
secretary x3
events planner, designer, marketing, editor, stepper-up-to-the plate
warper of young, impressionable minds (teacher)

four movies i can watch over and over
a room with a view (make me melt, george)
dirty rotten scoundrels
emma (i'm in love with Mr. Knightley)
13 conversations about one thing (leaves me wondering every time)

four places i have lived
palace court (study abroad in london)
hooville (or charlottesville to the uninitiated; america's eden)
beantown (boston)
a bubble (provo)

four tv shows i love to watch
law & order (of any stripe)
arrested development (curse fox!)
the office (a newly acquired taste)
the daily show/the colbert report

four places i have been on vacation
the hiltons (not the hotels; the lakes--in the high sierras)
charleston, sc
paris (france, not idaho)
new york city (a regular destination of mine)

four of my favorite dishes
chicken saag (indian)
chicken mango curry (thai)
sweet sticky rice (thai)
steak & potatoes with a side of asparagus (at sullivan's)

four websites i visit daily besides blogs
google.com
uci.edu
ldslinkup.com
wikipedia.org

four places i would rather be right now
wandering through new york city
deep in conversation with a friend
entranced by a stage production of one of my favorite plays
with my sisters and mom; location doesn't really matter

four bloggers i am tagging
brookewill
and that's it, cause all my friends are also all the bloggers i know and they've been tagged.

charity: a reflection in three parts.


christmas. at some point just before christmas, my mom told me that my dad had invited two women from their ward to join us for christmas eve. my immediate response was to be peeved. i like my holidays quiet. i don't want to entertain a bunch of people and feel obliged to talk to them if i don't feel like it. i hate small talk with strangers. i don't like trying to find something i have in common with them to talk about. and i made it known to my mom that i wished we could just have a quiet holiday.

but my dad had already made the invitation. and one of the women had agreed. and the other one called on christmas eve to tell us she was rearranging other plans so she could come and be with us. needless to say, i was not pleased.

but once something can't be changed i'm not one to be all snotty about it. so i set to work and helped my mom prepare all kinds of food and set the table pretty and fold the napkins like lotus flowers. and the two women came and one of them was a bit dour and the other one was a bit effervescent. and i was a bit sulky.

until i stopped worrying about how they were ruining my christmas and instead let myself realize how happy they were to be with us. these two beautiful women who didn't have families to be with that night. rather than having a christmas eve i had to suffer through, i ended up enjoying myself and the laughter these two women brought with them into our home.


resolution. i don't often make new year's resolutions. i'm not very good at keeping them. but this year i have made one. i am something of a thinker. and i have been trained by my graduate programs to think by taking other people's thoughts apart. breaking ideas down into component parts to see if they work. what results often sounds negative. because it leads me to point out the ways in which another person's work is inadequate or wrong. this is in part a necessary evil. to make one's way in the world of academia, it's vital to find an opening. some niche that you can make your own. and that can only happen when you show that everyone else has failed to see things your way (which is, of course, the correct way).

but i don't like the fact that this response leaves others feeling like i'm always trying to show them how their thoughts are lacking, how they are weak. it makes it sound like i'm condescending and i don't like being condescending.

i still want to think critically. and i still want to recognize the ways in which an idea may not be sufficient. but i want to read more generously. i want to go with someone in their thoughts and their argument, try to understand it. find the ways in which their thoughts fit with mine, areas where they overlap, places at which there is a gap between them. and try to adjust my own thinking to incorporate the good of theirs while maintaining the good of mine. it is time for more intellectual charity in my life.


god & i. i have been thinking lately about how i have dealt with the fact that i am not where i think i should be. i think i should be married. with a baby. or maybe even two. of course, that's fairly irrational given that i've never even had a legitimate opportunity to marry (i don't count the time a guy i knew showed up at my house and told me god wanted me to marry him as legitimate). but i still haven't let the irrationality of my expectation prevent me from being angry at god for not giving me what i think i deserve. i have tried not to be angry. because i'm pretty sure getting angry at god doesn't accomplish a whole lot. at least nothing positive. it has certainly worked to undermine my happiness.

a couple of weeks ago i was talking to a friend about this issue. not about my anger. more about the fact that i have essentially reached the conclusion that i will most likely never marry. and i got a little weepy (as i'm prone to do). he looked at me and asked me if my being married is a good thing. the answer seemed so obvious that i looked at him funny and then answered yes. his reply was simple: then pray for it. because we have been told that when we ask god in faith for something which is good, he will give it to us.

i wasn't convinced it was that easy and left the conversation a bit skeptical. but i've been thinking about it. about this idea that if we exercise faith and ask god for good things, he will give them to us. that our faith truly is a tool that we can use to bring about good in the world. and i've thought about how i have responded to this particular problem in my life. i certainly have not responded with faith. i have responded with anger and anguish. and with fear. but not with much faith. and it occurs to me that i have not been charitable to god. i have not loved him and believed in his goodness--not where i am concerned. it is time for a more simple faith. trust that god does love me and will provide for me. a more pure love of god--not for what i think he can do for me (that love transforming to anger when he doesn't deliver), but for his essential goodness and mercy and love.