Labels

I don't like them. At all.

I'm not going to be all "holier-than-thou" and say I never apply them, because I totally do. I'm working on it though.

One label I am constantly dodging, and admittedly omit until asked, is the fact that I'm Mormon. I don't like other Mormons to know I'm Mormon because frankly, they're disappointed when I don't meet their expectations of Mormon-ness. This is fine. Our church is about a personal relationship with God and I know that He loves me and my Mormon-ness.

I omit that I'm Mormon to those who are not because most of them have horror stories or super-creepy-all-too-personal questions that, frankly, are inappropriate and uncomfortable or loaded in nature. I'd rather people get to know me as the good person I'm trying to be and accept me for my values and how I practice those values as opposed to labeling me with a scarlet "M" that they are unwilling to see past. (And let me note, this is not everyone. My practice of omitting until asked began because of a choice few who were ass-hats.)

However, I have found peace in this practice, YEA, even joy :D No, really. I figure if someone really wants to know, they'll ask. And, it's usually the right kind of person, who already knows me, that asks and my Mormon-ness does not seem weird at that point. Allowing myself to live beyond a label - Mormon - has allowed me develop my life and path in a broader spectrum. I'm not confined to a certain attitude or word. I'm entitled to find useful purposes for doctrine and to think beyond the fact that "I'm Mormon so I can't." Doing this has also allowed me to question on a deeper and more meaningful level because in so many ways, Mormons can't or aren't allowed to question, but someone striving to live the doctrine of the L.D.S. church, or someone striving to live life to the fullest in any other context, can question and not be judged or condemned for doing so.

I felt the same relief from label-stress when I gave up on deciding to be Republican or Democrat.

That's one label I've been ditching.

However, in my particular case, I don't think labels would be completely useless. In light of a series of unfortunate incidents in the past six months, I think I SHOULD come with this label:

"Attention MOST men who are married or in serious/committed relationships and find themselves unhappy - you WlLL BE attracted to me. Don't worry, this is standard operating procedure. Just keep your thoughts and hands and phone numbers to yourselves. Single men who are looking for love - you WILL NOT be attracted to me. If you wish to be, get married or get serious and then wait to see if you find yourselves unhappy."

Count Your Many Blessings

Proceed with caution. Super Mormony post ahead :D

Many of you are familiar with Mormon culture, and if you are not, well, most Mormons try really hard to be happy. We have this little hymn that goes, "When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed / and you are discouraged thinking all is lost... Count your many blessings / name them one by one / and it will surprise you what the Lord hath done."

Normally, I'd take issue with antiquated advice given 150 years ago in the form of a happy go lucky song, but I really enjoy this hymn... mostly because it reminds me that I'm a complainer who should stop complaining and that, in fact, I am very, very blessed. 

While there are many blessings I can count, there are four I'd like to concentrate on right now. One. Amazingly supportive family and friends. This past week has - make yourself ready for an antiquated Mormon phrase - made manifest to me that I am loved and worthy of being so. Sometimes I lose sight of that and become very hard on myself. My parents and brother made being at home wonderful and splendid over Christmas. Joe reminds me that I'm neat and belong in grad school. Chel reminds me that being a friend and having a friend is awesome. Rae helps me reevaluate myself and understand beautiful concepts. And these things are the very few qualities I can share that begin to show their depth. 

This past week, I had a conversation with an old/new friend, Deb. After a while of talking, she told me that she had put my name on the temple prayer roll, simply because she felt impressed to do so. (The prayer roll is specific to temples because it means that a name is written on a piece of paper and every hour for one week, those names are prayed for.) I can't remember the last time I was so aware of a friend in need when that friend didn't know he or she needed said help in the first place.

Coming back to Flag was super hard for me because my old friend depression started making rounds. Nothing to be concerned about as it has only been slight insomnia and a general laziness - I am now aware and fixing the problem. Woot. Anyways. Since my name has been on the prayer roll, I have not been thinking about it at all actually.... until tonight when I realized that being here has been an incredibly easy transition, my classes are going well, the class that I teach has been going amazingly well, and I've been really happy and active. Friends here have supported me and been extra wonderful this week and I know this is not a coincidence. I have had heavenly help and that is exactly what I need in order to be here and be emotionally and mentally healthy.

This brings me to my second point. I am thankful for temples and the power they bring to this Earth. I'm receiving my endowment in March and I cannot wait to be challenged on a new spiritual level.

Third. I am thankful for the blessings of knowledge, education, and the blessings of being exactly where I need to be.

Lastly. Tonight, I'm really thankful for movies. Yes. Films. My weekend starts tomorrow, Thursday, at 11:30 and I'm cuddling up in my awesome bed and watching some flicks.

Mormony post out!

A Personal Yet Public Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Please help me to be ready for a man like this: amazing link taking you to an extraordinary post.

Mormons & Semantics

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in SUU's food court talking with a few of my favorite people. Of course, the reason they are some of my favorites is because they are geeks who think about language as much as I do. I don't remember the exact flow and meanderings of the conversation, but I said/thought, "Oh. Wow. The Church is actually worried about semantics."

A comforting thought to me personally, indeed. 

My mom has been attending church with me recently and as we were sitting through a mundane high councilor speak about flying or something, my mom leaned over and asked, "What do you think of this?"

She held in her had a ward directory and was pointing to the title of the column, which read "Head of House and Spouse."

My immediate response was, "Yeah. That's not the doctrine of the Church." My second reaction was indignation for three reasons. 

One. As I recalled at the time, "The Family: A Proclamation to the World" definitely sets forth criteria for equality in marriage - in my mind, this includes labels. 

Two. There are many single parent families in the Church where a mother or father may be a head of the house with no spouse. 

Three. My brother is listed by himself on that sheet. Who, oh who, would a ward member contact in our house if my brother is neither head of house or spouse? I can already feel the anxious confusion of literal-minded ward member needing to contact someone in our home.

(Here I shall digress for a moment, but hopefully, I will come full circle.) My habit, as much as I hate to admit it, is to let things I get worked up about go without much of a mention. If I'm really upset or annoyed, I try to calm down... and usually by the time I do, I decide not to say anything so that I can spare feelings. 

But with my mom by my side and my semester of feminist studies, I decided to say something. (Alas, I did have to say something to an old white guy, but a very kind one at that :D.) I used my sweetest voice possible and mustered as much Christlike love as I possibly could and spoke to a member of the bishopric. 

Though I know he didn't really see the problem, he took time to listen. Though the wording of ward lists may not change today, some day it will change as either people grow or members of a certain generation move on to the next adventure (morbid? Yes. But it's true.) I don't know if anything will change,  but I felt, for the first time in a while, like an effective member of the Church. Nothing has been accomplished in this particular denomination without asking questions or trying to move forward in understanding - and for that, I am grateful. 

Now. My last little semantic thought for the day/ridiculously early morning hour. I re-read "The Family" a few minutes ago and I AM struck by the extraordinarily thoughtful nature of the wording. I don't understand all of the contents and I am learning about others, but much thought was put into this document. 

Unlike scripture, women are actively referred to in this text. Every time man is mentioned, so is woman - and this makes my heart happy. The authors specifically state, "...fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners."

There it is - equal. I know that not everything can be divided into clear cut groups, but men and women are meant to be equals in life because God's Plan identifies requirements for eternal life as such. 

Now. As much as I'd love to say I have no questions about the document, one thing remains and this is where I will leave you, dear reader. When setting forth the criteria for the roles men and women play, the authors state, "By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children."

I understand that there are different responsibilities to be had in life and that personalities and genetic hard wiring play a vital role in that (and I am in no way advocating that mothers be "required" to stay home while fathers bring home the bacon - the authors later recommend prayerful consideration of such matters and decisions.) 

My question resides in the use of one word - preside. If we are supposed to be equals, what does "preside" mean?

Does it mean that a father needs to understand that the best way for a mother to nurture her children is not to be home all day? Does it mean that mothers are not equal in the presidency of the home? Or, is there something I'm missing?

No Longer on the Cusp of an Anxiety Attack

I know. Yay me!!! Right? Life is beginning to even out and I know longer have t

he feeling that suddenly life will implode.

Okay. Long time since my last post. But now I know why C.

 Joe was flustered for much of the past two years. Grad school is tough. I want to cry a lot. I want my mommy and a blankie and the amount of coke slurpees I ingest on a weekly basis has increased since that fateful day I found the Maverick in West Flag.

Here's a quick update on life, as I'm sure in future posts I'll return to those rants you all know and love so well.

Since being in Flagstaff, I've turned into quite the party trick. And no, not that way. I'm quite the Mormon enigma in the English department. Here's a list of things that have been said to me:

"You're Mormon?! But... you seem so sane."

"You're Mormon?! But you dress normal... and you're cute."

"I knew this Mormon once. Yeah... he/she was awful/terrible/judgmental." (To which I responded, "Yeah. Me too.")

"Are you Irish? Oh no. You can't be Irish. You're Mormon."

"Yeah. One time, on Wikipedia, my brother changed all the L.D.S. entries to read L.S.D." (Admittedly, I chuckled at this one, and then used it to show that Wikipedia is NOT a credible source.)

"So how many sister wives do you have?"

"All Mormons do is spawn, Spawn, SPAWN!" (This last one being said in front of my entire Sex, Politics, and Reproduction class. Everyone, including my professor, started laughing. Then it was pointed out that I was Mormon. It was worse than the time I was asked if Mormons have horns.)

Besides all of these comments, and the others like it, stem from ignorance, they have been opportunities for me to stand up for myself and reaffirm my faith. I've been struggling with my membership in the church for about the past year, and it's nice to finally know that I do believe, otherwise, I wouldn't say anything at all. 

I would also like to point out that these thoughtless, unlearned comments are of the minority. Most of my friends, which is why they are labeled thus, are curious and supportive and wonderful. I go out to the bars to socialize and dance, and they buy me drinks in the form of cranberry juice. They understand my informed decisions just like I understand theirs. 

So, here's the part where I break the flow and do a quick rapid fire. 

I haven't liked living in Flag. I have not liked going to school. I miss home and my family. 

I went home this past weekend for the first time in two months. I almost cried when I got to Cedar. Through conversations with wonderful people, I realized that I could either wallow in my pity, or I could do something about it. 

I got back to Flag on Monday, which was my 23rd birthday. I felt refreshed and recharged and ready to apply myself with a new fervor. I only have three semesters left after this one, so I might as well make them worth it. 

When I went out with some friends Monday night to celebrate my exit from my mother's womb, for the first real time since moving here, I felt loved. There's a lovely group of ladies in my program and we lunch every Friday after class. A few of them came out to dinner and it was great. Since I returned, I realized I have not made a wrong decision. I made a decision that put me in a challenging, new position and I must act and adapt instead of react and whine.

The point is this: we may not be in the best of circumstances, but this is it, so why not smile and decide to be happy?

Anyways. Parting shots:

Listen to Explosions in the Sky. The song "Your Hand in Mine" might just change your life.

Spending a birthday at the Dinosaur Museum in Lehi is a fantastic way to celebrate life.

Being a teacher is the best job EVER! Especially when a student tells you you're kick-ass.

I think I like being Mormon.

Kissing is awesome!

Frisco Street Grill is my new, favorite restaurant. Come visit! I'll take you there.

Raft down the Grand Canyon. It's phenomenal. 

Who's Long Tim?

Well, I've been gone for a while; it's true, check the dates. The past month or so, I haven't been able to articulate my thoughts on my experiences well enough to merit a post, but I'm feelin' some clarity tonight. First, the Top Ten Things I Did Whilst in Europe:

10. Met Alan Moore

9. Rode the Tube around London

8. Saw Avenue Q - quite literally the funniest musical EVER!

7. Stumbled upon my first Da Vinci painting

6. Got my very own hotel room in Paris three blocks from Notre Dame

5. Tried every new food I possibly could

4. Found out about standardized health care

3. Learned that taking days for myself and sightseeing without anyone else is a great thing to do

2. Went to Evensong at Westminster Abbey

1. I freaking went to Europe, and that is awesome!

Second. I live in Flagstaff now. Crazy, right? Oh, nay nay. Crazy, my friend, is having keys to my office and having a weekly schedule that includes teaching English 1050 Monday through Thursday at 10:20 in Room 216. Crazy is paying $600 dollars a semester for my Master's degree.

The point is, I love being here. I'm totally out of my comfort zone, but I have found my people who do not take the place of my other people, but help me to deal with living in a new state. I'm in the right spot in my life - geographically, chronologically, emotionally, intellectually, and academically - but that's not saying I won't continue to try to improve.

The one thing, dear analytical reader, that is missing from my list is spirituality. This past year has been a difficult for my membership in the church, but I haven't ever doubted that my membership is right and a good thing; I've just had questions, and frankly, I've gotten lazy.

I've come to the realization, once again, that life is totally about balance and I've let certain aspects of my life get out balance, most of which has been my connection with God and spirituality. I was trying to distance myself from the things I don't like about going to church or interacting with members of the church, and I began to turn my back on God.

But, my relationship with God, Jesus Christ, and the Spirit, and my membership in the church has nothing to do with nuisances of church culture or other members. I've learned, through many sources, that I must be Sarah La Rue and that my religious affiliations are through The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, that my intellectual pursuits help me understand the world and humanity better and more compassionately, that I am an English teacher who loves comic books, Batman, and graphic novels, that I am, always have been, and always been an intellectual and a feminist, and that how I must live is through a balanced existence of all that I am.

A Question of Polygamy

I must apologize if you are not familiar with the L.D.S church and are reading this post. If you would like to know about any of the jargon I use and do not explain, visit www.lds.org. I'm not trying to convert you, merely give you a place that will better explain Mormon vocabulary.

Are you prepared for a lengthy blog containing personal information, religious questions, and lots of talk about polygamy? Really? Okay.

I have questions. Lots of questions. In fact, one of the facets of my personality is my puppy-like curiosity pertaining to all things. Lately, I've had lots of questions about The Church. The Mormon Church. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. My questions are either stemming from or coinciding with a time in my life where it was been very difficult for me to attend church and church functions. Many of my questions are definitely stemming from my feminism and my intellect. I've reached the point where I know that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ like my feminism, my intellect, and my curiosity - no one will ever convince me of anything different.

That said, knowing that I am loved and appreciated from on high does not answer the questions that I have. Instead, I have more confidence in asking them. Of all my questions, which I will not go into here because this will be long already, I want to know about polygamy (the practice of one spouse having more than one spouse, but for Mormons, the male having multiple wives), and here's what I already know (feel free to correct me if I am wrong, which I might be... because, hey, I'm human - that whole perfection thing that's promised is coming, I'm sure).

• Polygamy was a practice used both in the Old and New Testaments, and is still used in some religions in the world today.
• Polygamy was practiced in the L.D.S. church from about 1880 to 1910 and was instituted, via revelation from God, by Joseph Smith the Prophet.
• Polygamy in the L.D.S. church was a calling. Not every member practiced polygamy.
• One of the "reasons" for polygamy is said to be that there were more women than men at the time it was instituted. I have been told, by an Institute teacher, that this is absolutely false and that Church records show that there were actually more men than women at the time.
• The practice of polygamy was stopped because it was revealed so, but also because Utah needed to become a state and the government would not allow that event to occur until Mormons no longer practiced polygamy.
• The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints no longer practices polygamy.

Now. With all of that, I have many questions, most of which will not ever be answered in this lifetime - shaking fist for eternal perspective. Here are a few of my questions.

• If Joseph Smith was in turmoil because of this principle, why was the succeeding prophet, Brigham Young, so eager to practice it?
• Will polygamy once again become a practice on this earth for members of The Church? In the millennium maybe?
• Will there be polygamy in heaven, specifically, the Celestial Kingdom?
• How can people practice this? And I mean ever.
  
• Could I ever practice this?

Okay. So, I'm not going to understand the Joseph vs. Brigham situation. They were people with unique personalities. I've been told that polygamy will never be a commandment on this earth again, but let's face it, a boy goes into the woods to ask a simple question and wabam! you've got the restored gospel.

So, where does my anxiety stem from? And believe me, I've been on the verge of an anxiety attack at the over-pondering of sharing my husband with another woman, even if she was Mary herself. My anxiety stems from having to share what is most sacred and trustworthy with another woman or multiple wives. And it's more than just the union of sex. It's that there are two of us and I want my husband to be for me. I don't want him to romantically love another woman, share his thoughts as he would with me, or be sealed for time and all eternity to two of us when there is one of him. That's it. I don't want to share. Sharing is caring, and in this arena, I am care free. Selfish? Eek. Maybe. Justifiable? I don't think you'll find many people who disagree with me.

Being sealed to both my husband and another one of his wives scares the ever-livin' out of me.

To make this more complicated - what if I die and my husband marries and is sealed to someone else? (In the L.D.S. church, men can be sealed to more than one woman while a woman can only be sealed to one man - a serious question for another blog.) Or, what if he dies first and is sealed to someone else? What then? Am I totally left out of that decision because the flippin' veil is in the friggin' way?

I've seriously wrestled with these questions for years. And my heart has NEVER felt an ounce of peace, even when I pray about it. The "it'll all work out beyond the veil" stock-answer does not suffice for me here and we Mormons avoid talking about polygamy at all costs, except when to make fun of the F.L.D.S. church and the polygamists at Wal-Mart. We talk about polygamy like we talk about the fact that black men could not hold the priesthood until the 70's.

But, I finally have an answer. After years of questioning, I got my answer. Agency. Agency can never be taken away from us, by God or man, unless we give it away ourselves. No matter if it's here or there, we will always have agency - God made sure of it. If I choose not to be in a polygamous marriage, I don't have to be. If my husband doesn't want to be sealed to anyone more than me, he doesn't have to be.

I cannot adequately explain how my soul feels relief at this moment, but I feel a renewed light in myself, a light that hasn't been there for a while and that makes all the difference for me today, and for my years of questioning.

If you would like to read the article I read, here is the link. Pages 151-52 are what I concentrated on.

I hope this helps. I hope it helps me more in the future and with how I am finding my path to heaven.

A Shot to the Heart

“Mormons should be glad Scientology came along and made them the second weirdest religion.” - Bill Maher

I came across this little gem when reading

When Supervising a Class

I cannot attribute my break in blogging to anything but laziness. It seems that the less I have to do in life, the more I feel the need to be apathetic. 

I don't have any pearls of wisdom or comic book rage-engendering experiences to relate, but here are a few things.

• I get to meet Alan Moore on July 12th when I'm in London. Hurray!
• I really like soccer, coke slurpees, and driving past sage brush in the evening with my car windows down singing just as loud as I can.
• Father's Day was good. I love my daddy. And my mommy..... and my brother.
• Last week, a conversation went like this. 
  

I was eating mandarin oranges out of a small can. 

Enter boss-lady (and not Julie Simon). "Wow. You're going to lose so much weight when you stop working here."

Me: "Excuse me?" (And the kind of excuse me that left me with my mouth agape full of an orange slice and not the ghetto kind.)

Boss-lady, "You eat all the time."

One. No, actually, I don't eat all the time. I snack periodically through the day on pretzels, oranges, apples, and water. Two. Do I have that much weight to lose to constitute a "so" being used as an adjective to my weight? No. I don't. I'm fluffy. See "Kung Fu Panda" and you'll understand why I feel this way. Three. I still don't know why she said that. WTF?

• I really liked "Kung Fu Panda." I identified with a lot of the characters, but mostly Po.
• Crafty people are neat and I wish I could be one.
• I hate my job.
• I'm so excited to go to Europe, cut off all of my hair, and move to Flagstaff. I'm trying to find reasons to be excited about life today, but there's a lot of reasons to be excited about life in a few weeks. (I don't think that it will take me long to be excited about everyday :D)
• I love these women. I don't always agree with them, but they make me feel better about life and my church membership.  
• I want to marry a superhero, mostly Batman.
• Pushy, authority-seeking people bother me. Why don't they just pee on a fire hydrant? It'd be more effective.
• I'm addicted to Lost and I'm not ashamed.
• Read Watchmen. You'll understand The Incredibles on a whole new level. It's mind-blowing. Really.
• You're a neat person. Thanks for reading my blog.

Find a Happy Place

Sometimes, being happy is a battle for me. I imagine myself as a stanch fighter in some kind of war, like the war at the beginning of "The Lord of the Rings" movie, fighting against the powers that would make me unhappy, because the key to happiness lies just on the other side of the opposing army. A weird picture to be sure, but that's what happens when you're a dork with an overactive, visual imagination.

Last February 14th, I was realized I had depression. Two days later, I was diagnosed with severe depression and severe anxiety. Writing, or saying, this on paper or out loud is not difficult when I share my experience with a trusted few. I knew that I would inevitably share this particular trial with many. And for some reason, I feel the need to share tonight.

The two months prior to that fateful day, and the three months after, were the hardest in my life. I have never known despair to that extent. I felt hopeless, helpless, miserable, and empty. I had nothing to give; I could only take.

But, and this is a big but, because I knew sadness to that depth, I knew that I could also experience happiness to that degree, and more. 

There is a stigma in many cultures, particularly in the Utah culture, that the word depression is a synonym for crazy. I think this is why I don't share my experience with many. I am not ashamed of myself, but leaving the sacred parts of my life open to the judgements and sneers of those who choose not to understand is difficult.

I heard once that we should not share sacred experiences with many, because they lose their sanctity, much like I shouldn't tell someone I'm in love with them when I really am unsure of my feelings. And although my trial with depression is sacred, I refuse to let an unhappy memory have power of my life. Instead, I choose to let it be a secure foothold in my life. A place where I know I have strength, courage, and experience so that it cannot be an unhappy memory anymore. Depression has been replaced with wisdom and love.

There are many things that help me now. I don't feel the need to share them. I just want to illustrate that sometimes my happiness is a choice and a battle. Today was a difficult day to keep fighting though.

The past few days have been really tough. I missed an extremely important grad school deadline and almost forgot another. I still have no idea what to do with my life after August, I feel like I'm in limbo, I feel like I can't do anything right, that people have no faith in me, and that if they do have faith in me that it's a wasted effort, and that all things that I have been trying to do "better" lately have been for naught. I feel depressed.

Maybe it's the time of year or the fact that the sun hasn't been out in a really long time, maybe I'm fighting what I'm supposed to really be doing instead of what God needs me to be doing, maybe I don't know what I really want. Maybe it's P.M.S.

I don't know. 

What I do know is that writing about this helps me. Sharing my experience does too. Maybe that's all I need to know right now.

This will keep me safe from the hot, Mexican sun.

Okay. Today isn't necessarily my first day in Mexico, but it's the day I'm writing about my first day here. Yesterday was amazing, but definitely not what I expected. I know that I came down here to do service, but I think I was too busy this semester to process what coming here would exactly entail. Oh. And would just like to mention/gloat that I'm sitting in the shade because sitting directly in the sun is a little too warm.

To start off the day, we went to church. I will avoid venting about how the leaders only knew where an L.D.S. church was or that even though I thousands of miles away from Utah, that it was still somewhat of a social obligation to attend church. I am glad, however, that I went. I do love going to church - anywhere - but here, it is much different. There were only about fifteen members and the Bishop was the only person on the stand. When our entire group walked in, we quadrupled the size of the congregation. What was the most neat part of sacrament, aside from obviously being in Spanish, is that these people have a completely different kind of testimony than what I usually see and hear. They are humble and they sacrifice greatly to be members. Everyone works here, and to attend church, these people probably miss out on money for their living, but they come anyway. Their love for the gospel is so simple, but so strong and real. The Spirit is able to transcend language barriers and testify of their love, the love of God, and the abundance of truth. I will take church in Mexico any day. (The only "weird" part about church is when two completely separate groups of students from SUU came to church - apparently they're here job-shadowing in the medical fields. We were all quite surprised to see each other.)

I checked out of church after sacrament because I actually have to work while I'm here (not something I like to do even when I'm in the U.S.). So I headed back and was promptly asked to help the leaders. Another member of the group and I wen to "Ley" - the Mexican, more crowded and disorganized version of a ghetto Wal-Mart - to buy milk, ice, and cream cheese. This was quite the experience. Ley is located in a mall-type situation. People are absolutely everywhere. Everyone here is always waiting. (I'll take pictures to prove this, but I left my cord at home.) Around the actual store are all these little vendors selling food and clothes. I will pause this narrative to say that I had the most amazing carne asada tacos for 17 pesos (roughly $1.70) at the store. I love Mexican food -REAL Mexican food.

Anyhoo, Ley was so lively. There were Flamenco dancers right outside the store and people were yelling in to microphones about pollo, carne, jamon, frioles, y marisocles, but other than that, it was another Wal-Mart. When we finally checked out, a boy about seven bagged our groceries. The other group member and I asked the check out lady and she said that he doesn't actually get paid - he only gets tips from people as he bags their groceries. My heart broke a little. This little boy should have been out playing soccer with his friends, but he was bagging groceries, working, like he'll be working for the rest of his life.

Lunch. Lunch was lame. I did not come to Mexico to eat Doritos, snack-packs, and chicken salad sandwiches. I'm going to a vendor for lunch today.

The highlight of the day was when brought hygiene kits to an impoverished neighborhood in Inpendencia. Most of the houses were made from scrap wood, cardboard, and one was even made from the bottoms and tops of barrels. The kits had blankets, food, soap, towels, toothbrushes, and the like in them. One of the families we brought it to was being raised by an 11 girl. She had a 7 year-old brother, a 3 year-old sister, and another infant sister. We couldn't really figure out if there actually was a mother present or just working, but the little girl raises this family. Another family was comprised of two 15 year-old parents and a 3 month old baby. 

As we were taking the kits around, families, mostly kids were flocking to us because we were handing out necessities and some toys. The problem is that we only had a limited supply of things, and we'd promised goods to families already. Leaving the kids behind who weren't quick enough to get a toy was heart-breaking. I started taking food out of our treat bags and handing that out. I was told not to by a leader because "that was all we had for the trip home." Really? That's all we have for the trip home? Good thing I brought my debit card. I started steathily handing out treats at a faster rate after that.

The best part about this highlight was when we played soccer with the neighborhood kids for an hour or so. These kids are amazing, probably because it's all they do all day, but they kicked our trash! It was the Americans versus the Mexican ninos and it was so much fun! Playing games with them better than handing out food. It was much more memorable.

What little Spanish I do know is very handy. I find that I know more than I thought I did and that communicating with the people is wonderful. I thought they would be sad - missing out on iPods, clean food, clean streets, and the like, but they are so happy and so patient with me and my crappy Spanish. Especially the kids. When we were playing soccer, Luis, a little boy I snuck some ChexMix to, handed me a tiny package of candy. He told me it was for me for being there. I don't think I'm going to eat the candy. When it came time to leave, they asked if we were going to come back as we were leaving yesterday. I don't think that any of us had the heart to tell them no.

We had to leave shortly before dark. That's what the Police Officers told us. They were with our group for our protection, but I never really felt unsafe. That is until we heard two gunshots from the street last night. I do love Mexico though!

We did lots more yesterday, but I don't want to keep writing and missing out on experiences. Hasta luego!

RationalLies

To rationalize is to tell ourselves rational lies so that we believe them.

I sometimes have epiphanies in the shower. An odd place, I know, but they come whilst I scrub various appendages nonetheless. A long while ago, I was pondering the idea of being someone who I'd previously been with. He was/is a good man; I wouldn't been with him otherwise, but as much as I loved him and yearned to be with him again, something held me back time and time again. And then it came, amidst the rinse, lather, and repeat stage of my shower, a small, yet powerful voice that said simply, "No."

Instead of listening, I ignored and rationalized. He's a good man. He makes me happy. His mouth is incredible. He's the only one who wants me... My mind continued to race for a few days: luckily, I did not act on anything, especially mine own wants. After a few more rationalizations and a few showers where I committed to not think, I lapsed into the scent of my Zest - that's when it came. I thought about what my life, marriage, children - the whole enchilada - what it would all be like with him. Do not marry him. He WILL sexually abuse your children.

I couldn't believe my mind. I didn't want to believe the voice, but deep down, I knew it was true. Marrying this man would lead to a disaster of eternal proportions. I refused to listen for weeks again. I knew this man, this man that I loved, couldn't possibly be capable of such a thing. I wanted what I wanted and what I wanted was him, and to no longer be alone.

All the while the voice had been saying "No" and I'd been saying "Yes." Then I took the shower that saved me. I'd rationalized so much for so long that the voice said, "Okay. Do what you want to do."

One of the most hollow feelings in the world is what followed. I, a woman of God who is supposed to follow The Spirit at all costs and at all times and in all places, had just rationalized the safety of my own children away. I was so ashamed of myself, and to a certain extent, still am, that I would put my wants over the safety of children - my children.

I do not know if this man will ever be a sexual offender. I honestly doubt that he will. I think that my experience was a lesson for me and me alone. This experience showed me what it would be like to doubt the Spirit, my intuition, and simply live by the wants of my heart, without realization of what my current actions will have upon people in the future. Rationalization to this extent will never happen again in my life - ever.

I pose these thoughts and this deeply personal experience not to show the benefits of a highly scented soap and steamy water (although I think I can speak for most when I say that this is a good thing), but to question. How often do I rationalize? How many times have I? Don't worry, those two candy bars won't make your butt jiggle anymore. Spend the money on the shoes - you've had a horrible day. Ignore your head; it's what you really want.

I'm not married. I'm not even dating anyone. But I am happier now than I have ever been. I've been given an opportunity to view what eternity might be like if I gave into every one of my desires. I will then wait; wait until I find exactly what I'm looking for until I don't have to tell myself rational lies anymore.

Clean

*These lyrics belong to Incubus and Incubus will forever be a part of this experience.

To whom it may concern:

You know this concerns you. Today, everything was fine / Until roundabout, quarter to nine / I suddenly found myself in a bind / Was it something I said? / Something I read and manifested that's getting you down? I'd been thinking all day; thinking of how to let you know that I love you, but that I'm concerned about your life. That's the position of a best friend, right? To not always agree, to sometimes challenge, but always to love and never to judge, right? I thought that's what I did. I know that's what I did.

I watched your face watching mine. You told me the news. You'd thought I'd be happy; you should have known that I would have been logical. I tried to lessen the blunt of my concerns. I thought that I had. Your eyes never faltered and never became angry as I spoke. I thought you understood that all I wanted to do was show you love my friend. Don't you dare come to bed with that ambiguous look in your eye / I'd sooner sleep by an open fire and wake up fried.

Say what you will, say what you mean / You could never offend, your dirty words come out clean. I know that you don't agree with my spirituality. I knew that was a fact when you said that'd I stop at nothing to get what I wanted, which is a Ph.D., even if not stopping meant ignoring Heavenly Father's Plan for me. Instead of telling me you were worried about the choices I was making, you made me feel guilty as you snapped your quick retort down like a clamp on my dreams. I shouldn't have let you do that. I should have communicated with you, but I was hurt - hurt because you don't really know me at all if you would say that.

After I spoke to you, for what looks like, ultimately, the last time, you said you'd call tomorrow so we could watch a flick. Little did I know that you wouldn't call. Tomorrow, what price will I pay?/ Could I make it all up to you by serving coffee for two in bed?/ Would you then give me the time of day? No, I could never make you coffee to be in your good graces. You hate the fact that I work at Starbucks. Starbucks isn't for Mormons, but I work there anyway on Sunday mornings and race home to teach Sunday School anyway.

I need a map of your head
Translated into English so I can learn to not make you frown
You'd feel better if you'd vent
Put your frustrations into four letter words and let them out on mine
The most weathered ears in town

If this is it, if this has to be goodbye, then know that I wish you well. I want so much happiness for you, and that, in truth, is why I voiced my concerns. I never wanted you as anything more than a friend. I did want you to stay longer than you have though. All I ask is that you Say what you will, say what you mean / No, You could never offend, your dirty words come out clean.