The resolution list of DEMOCRACY AND HOPE

"We are defined by the lines we choose to cross or to be confined by."
- Dame A.S. Byatt in her book Possession


True Story: So, this year was the first year I've every voted in a major election. It was great. I had researched, and weighed and balanced my opinions. I was one of those dream-voters who had researched everything about both candidates and proudly wore my obnoxious "I 'FREAKING' Voted" (Note: "FREAKING' has been a dramatic addition to the said sticker. The authoress believes that the addition of the word 'freaking' ,to the otherwise mundane phrase "I Voted", portrays what she feels said sticker , in reality, signifies when worn by a person such as said authoress on an election day.) sticker on my lapel.
I did, however, have a split-second of crisis when, when asked which party I chose to be affiliated with, the "Party of DEMOCRACY AND HOPE" showed up, next to the more blandly named "Republican", "Democratic", "Independent", "Libertarian" and "Green" parties.

I mean...was I honestly going to vote against the Party of Democracy and Hope?

But then I remembered something very wise that I learned from my world travels and political interests: The friendlier the name, the scarier the place.

Greenland started the trend, but now try buying some real-estate in say..."The People's Republic of China"...or the "Super Smiley Happy Rainbow Democratic People's Union of Congo" (Run for your life.)

So, I just ended up voting for the the regular old boring party of my choice, but the crisis stuck with me.

This brings me to the title of my post. I mean, I KNOW that everyone and their Aunt Allison ( I, for example, have an Aunt Allison...in my familial possession) are currently writing a Blog list of their New Year's Resolutions. I just didn't want to get lost in the cyber-deluge so I thought I would call it the Resolution list of Democracy and Hope...because, I mean...I think that somewhere inside you'd feel a little guilty about not reading it. Seriously, who's gonna be like, "Meh, Democracy and Hope...no thanks."


So, Here We Go! (Note: Must be said like Mario in "Mario Cart")...

My Resolutions for 2009 are
to actively seek opportunities to be social again. If someone invites me to a game night/movie night...just go.

to go to the gym AT LEAST once a week ( I usually go about 4 times a week..but some weeks just suck with a passion. I dare you disagree.)

to make a strict budget and live on it. (I make loose budgets....but never strict budgets. I'm talking like...know where every dollar goes. It's gonna be a hit and miss thing until I figure out a system that works for me.)

Knit once a week.

Avoid Homework on Sunday...as if homework on Sunday resulted in death. Avoid it with that type of ferver.



Hold me to them my Favored Ladies and Gentlemen!

Happy New Year!

Oooooooo...Sexy

So, when I got off the plane in Las vegas, with my heels, my suit and my go-getter attitude I found myself ,apparently, in the land of large posters of packaged women.

I felt like a chicken walking down the frozen food section of the grocery stores; surrounded by naked, frozen chickens ready to be consumed. I tried really hard to convince myself that I was cool with this, but the entire thing gets eerie really fast.

I kept thinking...hmmm. Something is amiss. Those packaged "chickens" and I are the same type of creature, with the same intelligence and souls. How can you or I look at them as things, and not question, somewhere in our minds, if I am not a thing too?

Bak-Bak-Bak...Sexy.

Grazing

Ever have more to write than you have time to write.
Has your name ever been Megan?
Then you know how I feel everyday.

I think I will just try to write everything that has happened in the last few days in a sort of stream of consciousness mode...James Joyce,be proud.

CHRISTMAS
Shopping for Santa
HOT TEACHER REGALIA
Eat Cookies
Eat Eggrolls
Read Christmas Book
Get Pajamas
CUTE PAJAMA REGALIA
Go to SLEEP
WAKE UP
Open Presents
MORE HOT TEACHER REGALIA- I am going to be one hot teacher.
GIVE GIVE GIVE ( best and most memorable part...stereotypical though it may sound.)
I also get a cool awesome and requested posterboard carrier
WII! Oh my stars
Play tennis/baseball/boxing on the WII
PLAY SETTLERS and MEXICAN TRAIN
MORE PLAYING
LAUGHTER
FOOD
Grandparents on the Father's Side
Big CHRISTMAS DINNER
Feel need to explode
Don't
Watch Wall-e
Wake up and go to gym
COme home
spend my customary 70% of day in deep thought staring at walls
Grazing
Go to Bellagio ( my favorite of the Las Vegas Hotels...mostly because its worth its weight in not-naked women)
Family Pictures
See world's largest chocolate fountain
Try to take witty picture of myself with said fountain
Try 18 times to make picture work
Give up
Watch Fountains at Bellagio (The Song was Nat King Cole's "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year")
Come home
More Settlers
Grazing
Reading Possession
Watch Larry King
Stare into space
Write this blog


But more importantly I will now talk about my grazing habits during the Christmas Holidays.
Hem Hem....there is just a lot of food lying around. And it's all really delicious. We've got turkey, stuffing, pizza, eggrolls, cookies, more cookies, pie, more pie,chinese noodle dishes, restaurant leftovers, rolls, oreo balls...just lots of food.

During the holidays I turn into a sort of big-eyed adorable sheep. I wander around and frollick like a ewe in spring.
When not frollicking I am grazing on the seemingly endless supply of snackable delights.

Baaaaa-humbug.

A day in the holiday...

So, here is a breif synopsis of this fabulous holiday adventure.

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger until they're before your eyes.
-Regina Spektor "The Call"


1. Wake up in the guest bedroom, surrounded by paintings of Utah Landscapes by my illustrious great-grandmother Xarrissa Clarke, who lived much of her life in Iran, but lived in Utah in her late middle-aged years. I love having art in the house.
2. Realizing I am still wearing what I wore last night, I trudge toward the kitchen and make myself a bowl of Fruty Pebbles...which is far too sweet, so i try to balance it out with a slice of pumpernikel bread which we pilfered ( I almost said philandered...but realized that this particular rye bread and I have had no sexual relations) from a delicious diner at the Las Vegas Cheesecake Factory ( My First Time!).
3. I read Possession while rolling around on the air mattress in the living room for several hours. I haven't showered or changed and I care very little.
4. During this time I have also lapsed into long, drawn out sessions of wall-gazing introspection and private emotional hysterics. The longer I stay in one place, and allow my mind to wander to realities best left alone, the more I descend into a kind of paradoxical sane-madness. I think that since the world is absolutely fallen and bezerk, in order to survive at all we must armor ourselves against the little realities. We either wear the armor deep inside us unconsciously ( most of the happy-go-lucky time) or outside of ourselves ( during the times we understand that we are acting in certain ways as a result of a messed up universe) or we foolishly try to understand the realities of the universe without armor on-both acknowleging the crazy universe, and feeling the effects head-on. This results in emotional hysterics.
5. Roll around on my parents bed while the Las Vegas Sun's harsh rays come through the blinds and ponder about the exact moment of my conception. Not like my parents...but really. Like all that has happened and what it meant to the world when that zygote came into being. I begin to wonder if I was a mistake ( not by my parents...but in the larger scheme of things) and ponder a little more on the cosmic significance of conception and human creation-particularly in terms of me. I decide that if I keep thinking that cosmically in relation I will lose the ability to function normally. I roll off of the bed and keep reading.
6. Reading Possession. Good Book. A.S. Byatt.
7. Check my e-mail to see if anyone has e-mailed me. Nope. Not even Whatshisname, whom I have written to several times ( Hey readers...what are the rules about "Who" and "Whom"?) already. I stare at the ceiling for a few seconds and pull dorky faces at the mirror. I try to figure out why Whatshisname hasn't written back and decide that he must be tired of me and wish me dead for some undisclosed reason. This disturbing thought rests in the back of my mind for the rest of the day.
8. Go shopping with my older sister. We go to Kohl's, Bed Bath and Beyond and Walmart. I buy the sexiest cashmere Argyle sweater ever ( 100.00...but there was a sale...so it was significantly less than that.), and a nice teacher shirt and a sweater for my new brother Paul. I also buy some knitting needles so that I can learn how to knit.
9. When I am at my parents'( or should I say marents'? Our lingual obsession with the paternal is weird. More on that later...) house I am loud and dorky and obnoxious the whole time. My hair is big, my eyes are big, my voice is big and my personality is big. I would have been one of those babies that would have survived in the ice age because I would demand attention and get fed more. I don't live in the ice age, nor do I have the irresistable cuteness of an infant. These big traits of mine become problematic in the real world...especially because most of the time the things I say and do SHOULD be ignored by the rational of mind.
10. Go to the Gym. The Gold's Gym here is very nice. I did eliptical. I was sweaty and happy. Gyms are great.
11. Come home and take a looooooong sudsy, shampooy shower. Ooooooooo Ahhhhhhhhhh.
12. I hang out in a towel for a little while and enjoy that good clean feeling. I also note how nice my skin looks and feel after I moisturize it right out of the shower. I decide that I have a sort of clean prettiness when I come out of the shower. I check my email again ( nope...no new messages) and hang out in a towel for a little while longer.
13. It is maybe like 2 o'clock in the afternoon. My mom comes in and panics me into getting dressed. The whole family goes out and plays Bocci Ball ( an ancient roman lawn bowling game...way fun). We play for a nice long while. It's way fun. It's also way cold and Natalie's toes and mine are numb...and then later in pain. We waddle toward the car after the game and mom helps us thaw them out.
14. We all go home and eat delicious enchiladas.
15. I roll out some of the dough I made yesterday ( and while you may love your mother's cookies...my mom's cookies soundly beat hers into crackers) and cut out and bake some shapes while everyone else watches Iron Man. My shapes? Mostly Camels. I also help Natalie make her first batch of cookies by herself. Note...she is better than me at Bocci ball...and skiing.
16. Tickle war with tally.
17. Listen to Paul read Christmas Carol ( which I have never read) aloud, while Heidi teaches me how to knit....I am not very good at it. I plan to practice though. Heidi has given me her thicker knitting needles to practice with. She also helped roll some of my new eco friendly ( made from recycled plasic bottles) blue yarn into a ball.
10. Came and checked my e-mail again...no messages. Gave myself a pep-talk about how emotional attachment is a self-destructive waste of time. Took over an hour to convince myself enough to be ok for the night.
11.Worked on memorizing "Good King Winceslas", mostly for cultural-knowlege purposes.
12.Wondered how my hair dried into such a strange pyramid shape ( curly-haired sistren...you know what I speak of.) I also make note that I must buy Possession because it deserves some quotable underlinage.
13. Wrote this rather humorous blog post.


Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!

Obsession: It's not easy being Green

I took a personality test in one of my El Ed classes ( maybe they could weed out the psychos in time to save the children). I am a "Green" personality.

Now, these personality tests go into a lot more depth than this, and while I look skeptically *image of Megan looking skeptically* at "Color Code" tests ( Gag me with a spoon), this one has a point.

Greens are all about information, knowledge, facts and competence. Not in themselves so much as others. If you are incompetent...why are you my boss? lol.

I'm actually pretty laid back...but confusingly...that is also a green quality.

The green quality I will focus on right now though, is the green's tendency to obsess about things one topic at a time.

It's true. One of the greatest blessings and cursings is that I focus in on one problem at a time...and can't seem to look away until the problem is solved. Right now, I am obsessing about where the HECK my necklace from Wales is...(I've ripped my room apart...1: WHERE IS IT....2: IT'S NOT EVEN THAT IMPORTANT. WHY AM I OBSESSING. 3: WHERE IS IT!
Oh well. I can't find it...oh but I shall. I can feel it in my green green bones.)

What do men wear while doing Yoga?

So, the hotness and I are hanging out today at work.

Interesting note: Library work is everyday interesting. Por Ejemplo: Basketballglasses just walked by with a book in hand. "Hey Megan, someone is writing racist propaganda in the margins of this book. We're pulling it and sending it to clean-up."

Who are you people?

Another thing. Yoga. I love it. There are actually a lot of guys at my favorite yoga studio, but I never really pay attention to them. It's one of the MOST comforting facts I've discovered in life. No-one is half as interested in you as they are in themselves. ( That's not to say that other people don't effect me or stay in my memory for long...that's right...I'm talking to you, random large white guy who was singing show-tunes at the top of his lungs on campus all those months ago. You made an awkward impression.)


But I was just pondering, now, as I sit at the desk, watching the hotness sparkle: What do cool non-awkward guys wear while doing yoga?

I found my answer here online.

Hey guys, yoga is hot.

I've also been being plagued by the fact that I am so introspective that I drive myself into deep boughts of deep DEEP "The world is so messed up. I am in HELL." mode, interspersed with "Oh my existentialism!" and " I am surrounded by idiots." moments.

I like to take a break from these times using four basic escapist techniques.

Oh look, FASHION!

Oh look, SLEEP!

Oh look, Meditation and Child-like Innocence Mode! ( Perhaps the one which leads to the most immediate "sanity-inducing" gratification)

Oh look, private expression of DEEP ANGER/DESPAIR/CONFUSION/REALIZATION/CLARITY/HELPLESSNESS! (Perhaps the one when,explored sufficiently, will lead to the most long-term "sanity-inducing" gratification.)

The Walk of Shame

Here's a few little interesting notes.

Here is a clip from my life. So, it's snowing like the sun just went out of style. I'm sporting my wannabe Inuit princess look (Oh the uggs...oh the large puffy coat with the faux fur...don't judge me. You are just jealous because you don't prepare for snow as if each day was an Antarctic Adventure.) and sliding around periodically on the slick pavement.

*megan looks around really quick to make sure nobody's looking*
*Ruuuuuuuning start*
"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" ( About 4 inches of actual sliding)
"Oh the rush!"


Well, I'd been sliding along ( along with spinning and giggling) when I finally did it...I slipped INTO (not "next to" or "was grazed by")a large puddle of roadside snow sludge...right on the posteriority (a mixture of posterior and priority...because it's very important to me). It was just me...sitting in the puddle, as the traffic edged by. I stood up....pants wet and cold... and made the inevitable walk of shame home, along the busy street.

Just to stick it to the man I slid a few more times on the way home...but my intuitive caution made them less free and impulsive.


Another thing: So today when I was shelving Curriculum Books, I saw one called "Developing Life Skills". It wasn't even like a home economics or sex ed book euphemism. It was really just a book about Developing Life Skills ( One chapter was on "feeling happy at home").

I just couldn't help but think...where was I when THAT class was offered. PreCalc? When I could have been learning the essential LIFE SKILLS? That's messed up. What, were they like, "So, we need to make some things required. We've can either require one extra session of PE, or the LIFE SKILLS class."
"Meh. Who needs Life Skills? Play ball!"



So, I've got my sexy ring...which I shall shallowly name "The hotness" for the time being until I gain some maturity ( don't blame me. I never took Developing Life Skills).

The hotness and I are getting along great. It's very sparkly. Like really. I can't stop looking at it.
One of the coolest things about the hotness is that I can get lost just staring into the rubies....just like getting lost in the eyes of a lover...that is, if I had a stunning, high value, European import lover who was as well cut and wrapped around my finger...as the hotness is.

Merry Christmas-Thought this was inspiring

Away in an Awesome Manger
By Garrison Keillor

Dec. 05, 2007 | I got to teach Episcopal Sunday school last week, a rare privilege, and it was in a New York church so the kids had plenty to say. Teenagers, and if you expect them to sit in rapt silence as you tick off points of theology, you’re in the wrong place. They made plenty of noise, and not much of it about religion. Some of them seemed to be on a faith journey that was heading away from the Nicene Creed toward something cooler and jokier, some form of animism perhaps, the worship of cougars and badgers.

I like teenage noise. (It’s the quiet brooders like me you have to worry about, right?) They let me say my piece — God prefers honest doubt to false piety — and then they said their pieces, and what shone through was a sensible anxiety about the future and the fact that they care a lot about each other. You could imagine a confirmed agnostic hanging out here just for the warmth and conversation.

We sat in a sort of triangle, two couches at a right angle, a line of chairs, a window looking out at the snow on Amsterdam Avenue, and talked about the rather improbable notion that God sent Himself to Earth in human form, impregnating a virgin who, along with her confused fiancé, journeyed to Bethlehem where no rooms were available at the inn (it was the holidays, after all), and so God was born in a stable, wrapped in cloths and laid in a feed trough and worshipped by shepherds summoned by angels and by Eastern dignitaries who had followed a star.

This magical story is a cornerstone of the Christian faith and I am sorry if it’s a big hurdle for the skeptical young. It is to the Church what his Kryptonian heritage was to Clark Kent — it enables us to stop speeding locomotives and leap tall buildings at a single bound, and also to love our neighbors as ourselves. Without the Nativity, we become a sort of lecture series and coffee club, with not very good coffee and sort of aimless lectures.

On Christmas Eve, the snow on the ground, the stars in the sky, the spruce tree glittering with beloved ornaments, we stand in the dimness and sing about the silent holy night and tears come to our eyes and the vast invisible forces of Christmas stir in the world. Skeptics, stand back. Hush. Hark. There is much in this world that doubt cannot explain.

(I might have told the kids that when you use the word “awesome” to describe everything above mediocre, you’re missing a word for Christmas Eve, but I’m not their editor either.)

New York is very gaudy at Christmas, and the Santa Clauses on Fifth Avenue swing their bells with style, and the store windows glimmer and the city at dusk is ever magical, but all New Yorkers know that loneliness is a part of life and can’t be extinguished, not by entertainment or pharmaceuticals.

I walked around the city that Sunday night — two homeless people were camped on the steps of a Lutheran church on 65th, in the midst of grand old apartment buildings, and the opera crowd was wending toward Picholine and the Café des Artistes for the lobster bisque, and on the uptown subway we all sat and did not stare at the crazy old man boogeying in his sleeveless T-shirt and singing incoherently and watching his own reflection in the glass — and how 17-year-old kids should mesh New York with the Nativity, I was not able to tell them. God prefers admitted incompetence to fake authority.

But explaining the universe to them was not my job, only to love them, which I do, utterly. They are brave and loyal and funny, heading out into a world that is not forgiving of mistakes, that will try to pummel them into submission, that is capable of awesome cruelty and deceit, but here they are. Emily Dickinson said, “To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else,” and if she, who spent most of her adult life in her bedroom, could feel that way, then think how it must be for the rest of us.

A day in New York can show you such startling sights, including a band of doubting teenagers clustered in church on a snowy morning, that the birth of the child in the hay seems not so impossible after all, even appropriate, even necessary.

Dear Economy

Dear Economy:

I think that if you full-out crashed this year, it might do a lot more good than harm. I'm not too worried. I've got a scholarship, and while my major isn't particularly lucrative it is governmentally-backed, stable and in demand. I have too much stuff as it is, and I just keep thinking that maybe a nationwide depression would force everyone back to a nice sense of reality. I mean, our hyper-consumerist, materialistic lifestyle was bound to collapse upon itself eventually. Why not now?





Dear Megan:

But people who aren't you depend on me greatly, and whether you think so or not, if you get a family...or a hamster...you are going to have to support people besides yourself and that's where YOUR complete collapse will start to hurt. Since you are an emerging feminist hippie, you understand that all living things are connected. If the price of bananas rises...so will everything else eventually. Don't come crying to me when you have to choose between buying hamster pellets or paying the rent.




Dear Economy:
I would just have to do with fewer conveniences...or fewer bananas. I could make sacrifices for the maintenance of my beloved hamster. I could do as my illustrious grandmother always condones: "Wear it in, Wear it out, Make it do or do without."


Dear Megan:
*picture of emaciated hamster*



Dear Economy:

LEAVE MY HAMSTER ALONE!



Dear Megan:

I *cough* can't. I'm *cough cough* crashing.



Dear Economy:

OK...point taken. So I guess I should probably support your growth..but just so you know my hamster and I would be fine without you. I've got enough clothing, housing and yearly gym memberships to last me through a few years, and by then I'll be getting a government salary. :p



Dear Megan:

You don't even OWN a hamster.




Dear Economy:

Shut up.

New Fuel

Dear Good-looking, quiet but intelligent guy who talks to me but never asks me out:

Why won't you ask me out?

Megan



Dear Good-looking, quiet but intelligent guy who talks to me but never asks me out:

No, seriously. Why won't you?

Megan



Dear Good-looking, quiet but intelligent guy who talks to me but never asks me out:

If you aren't going to ask me then I'll have to ask you myself---....no wait...I'm not brave enough for that.
I'll just use the idea of you to inspire improved hygiene, fashion, and social behavior in myself. See...now you are new motivational fuel. I will use this strange tension and desire to propel myself to greatness. I win. Bwahahahahaha!

Megan


Dear Good-looking, quiet but intelligent guy who talks to me but never asks me out:

But still....

Megan

Poetry

I used to be really into poetry. REALLY into it. They weren't those emo ones either, nor were they that pathetic prose that people like to call poetry...all angst on college rule line. Real poetry.
Reading POSESSION has inspired me to write again.

Blog of the Month

http://failblog.org

Oh my hilarious world...

HAHAHAHAHA...you're welcome.

Brief Overview of Old Testament

Sarah and Abraham are the first inactive members of their Church in Ur, mostly because the corrupt priest and priestess class was using it's religion to get money, power, make up more immortal figures than was even necessary (more Gods and Goddesses=more donations=more jobs for the priest(ess)class=more power), and then they went way to far and started killing people like Hamite princesses ( Abraham 1:11), and the kids of other church members, like Abraham and Sarai. Yaweh saves Abraham's life in a blaze of glory, and Sarah and Abraham decide that maybe organized religion isn't for them after all. They move out of their ward and try Egypt ( which is the intellectual center of the world) and it's big city life. It's like the big university city feel. Sarai and Abram ( later to be Sarah and Abraham)catch up on all that hot new Egyptian religious theory, astronomy and alchemy (preserved from studies by some guy named Enoch) and apparently live it up ( their slaves were probably rolling their eyes behind their backs and pulling hoaxes on them. If I was a slave I would.)
Sarai seems to fit right into the classy, intellectual social scene ( Sarai means "princess"), but that becomes a problem when her classy intellectual hotness begins to draw some attention. Yaweh warns Abram, "Hey, Sarai your wife is classy and attractive. Just tell everyone that she's your relation, and not your wife, so that no one will kill you."
Eventually the cat gets out of the bag, and Sarai and Abram decide that, while they don't like hyper-orthodox religiosity ( which is easily corrupted), hyper intellectualism has it's own moral-free corruption problems.
They decide to move out to the rural middle of nowhere and raise sheep together while they both get revelation and angelic visitations to help them function out there.
They worship Elohim (the father of their spirits), Asharah (the mother of their spirits. The symbol of Asharah is usually a "tree of life" or a "grove". Abraham built a "grove" to her outside Beer-sheba [Gen 21:33] and Jacob's wife Leah named one of her sons Asher after her [Gen 30:13](Asherah means "happiness"...as in the great plan of "happiness"..as in the "tree of life".), Yaweh, their son...and the Holy Spirit, a personage of spirit ( quite possibly Sophia, or including Sophia or wisdom ( the spirit Solomon asked for later) who sometimes shows up looking like "fire" or "Shechinah".

Then Issac....then Jacob whose son Joseph ends up, through an inspirational series of events, as practically King of Egypt.
The whole Abraham-ite-used-to-be-city-now-rural-Walton-like-Family moves to Egypt where they live it up by association.
About 400 years later, they become the oppressed racial minority where they are oppressed and enslaved.

It's time for Moses, Miriam and Aaron to save the day! Moses, kid with all that great Egyptian education, goes and lives with some Midianites, who were not decendents of Abraham, but worshiped Elohim, Asharah, Yaweh, and Holy Spirit (Sophia). He combines his Egyptian high culture learning with a new understanding of religion from people close to his heritage. Then Yaweh comes to him and tells him that HE will free the Israelites if they promise to serve him exclusively as a covenant.
Moses Aaron and Mariam free the Israelites with some SERIOUS help from Yaweh. In exchange the Israelites now get to worship only Yaweh ( in preparation for the great eternal atoning sacrifice) through a whole new set of super specific laws and ordinances. When the Israelites build a giant Bull statue (symbol of Elohim), they get in trouble because they promised that it was going to be all about Yaweh from now on.

They eventually get back to the Promised land where Abraham originally lived, where they get really serious about keeping their "All Yaweh, all the time" covenants. They go around knocking down all the shrines to other dieties which they don't identify with Yaweh. Many shrines to Elohim seem to survive because Elohim and Yaweh seemed pretty similar and could be combined into one person. Asharah, definitely not Yaweh, isn't part of the covenant and so her worship is discouraged. Baal, more of a made-up walmart brand Yaweh, is used to fund a new priest class, and so is sought out and destroyed. Every once in a while the other deities get to help out (Solomon prays for Sophia [translated as wisdom] to help him run the kingdom). Mostly everyone is just paranoid about breaking their "All Yaweh All the Time" covenant because every time they do, they tend to get invaded,oppressed and beat up. Just to make sure this doesn't happen they start to build laws around the laws around the laws to prevent the covenant being broken.
Years and Years and Years and Years of This....

Jesus Christ is born, fulfills the Yaweh Covenant and things get to go back to the way they were before the Aaronic covenants ( eat ham! Elohim and others are back in the picture!).

Merry Christmas!

...Quite Contrary....

I sometimes think that in the Holiday Season we forget that Mary was a human being. She probably told jokes, agonized over her hair, and had more than a few opinions. I've picked a few of my favorite pictures. We'll start with the triptych by Van der Weyden. I really dig this one. It's like:
Angel: Hey mary, how's it going.
Mary: Don't bother me. I'm like 14 years old, I'm reading, and, as you can plainly see in the panel on the left, my parents are about to come home soo- Oh...it's you.


I think we don't give Mary enough credit sometimes. According to tradition, Mary was actually presented to work in the temple ( Samuel-style [Old Testament Jepthah's Daughter probably had the same deal]) when she was around eight years old. Like perpetual primary-seminary school, until she was around thirteen, fourteen or fifteen. This is depicted in the Giotto Mural...which I also think is interesting because the dude was obviously having a lot of fun with the new element of "perspective" in art when he painted this. ( "Hey guys! Look how I can make the stairs look 3-D using this ruler!)

So we're talking about a probably highly educated, religious scholar-ette type teenager Mary, who lived in the Capital City ( so she probably had a pretty broad background for people and fashions and cultures...I mean trade was big in Jerusalem even then).

Now imagine post-enunciation Mary who had to suddenly "keep these things and ponder them in her heart" ( Luke 2:19)...probably because unmarried pregnant women (Uh-Oh) who walked around saying they were carrying Elohim's child ( UH-OH!) had a terrible habit of being bludgeoned to death by rocks in the public square. In fact, at that time ( though the numerous summer-home vacationing Greek Aristocrats had some influence) women who walked around really saying ANYTHING had a terrible habit of being bludgeoned to death with rocks in the public square. It was a bad time to be a woman, especially since the current Judeo tradition pretty much stated that women weren't actually autonomous people, but extensions of men, and that they were were basically incapable of non-evil rational thought ( I don't think everyone actually believed it though).
Now, Mary...as far as we know...was probably the only person alive at the time who understood the true nature of the God-head...and she really couldn't say anything about it without becoming dead.
Imagine Mary listening in Synagogue: "And Yaweh Elohim is an eternal angry ever-present spirit who desires to annihilate us all."
"Um....actually....he's right here in my stomach...well Yaweh is....and um Elohim seems like a pretty nice guy ( they're actually two people) because he sent His Son to earth to save everybody, including the gentiles...and the Holy Ghost is actually a separate person...because the Holy Ghost came upon me a few weeks ago and....why is everyone looking at me so weird?"

That is, that would happen, if women were allowed at synagogue at all...probably not.

So the last picture I have is Of Mary, who after the annunciation went to visit her cousin Elizabeth in the suburbs,and have the first ever Christ-centered feminist retreat (NOTE: Elizabeth's husband really couldn't bug them either, since he was struck dumb by an angel at the time (Luke 1:20). So they were pretty much two women home free who could walk around saying all sorts of crazy things all day and, you know...they may have porked out on whatever the middle eastern snack food was at the time ( Hummus?), and talked about hair care, women's history, exchange rates and theo-cratic politics. I mean, they hung out like three months...with no speaking men in the house as far as I can tell. Lot's could happen.



Ya, Mary. You're pretty cool.


Merry Christmas Everyone!

( Giotto's "Presentation of Mary", Van Der Weyden's Annunciation Triptych, "Refuge" by Liz Lemon Swindle)

Just sayin'

I just want to point out two awesome things about this woman in the portrait by Rogier van der Weyden ( "Portrait of a Young Woman"....creative). Check out her Sa-weet awesome pressed linen head-wear and the hip way she wears her rings. I think we would have been friends.

Because I'd be afraid to do it in public...

I will now make fun of this picture by Robert Barrett.

So apparently everyone in Heaven was of Scandinavian Descent.
Or maybe this was the pre-mortal meeting for Anglos-only...like a kind of therapy session for those spirit children who were worried about their apparent lack of melanin. ( Don't send us down there so ETHNICALLY CHALLENGED! You know how bad I burn already.)

And where's Heavenly Mother? I mean, maybe She's just out of frame, or She's running late. I mean, why would She miss Heavenly Family Home Evening! Egad! Perhaps she WORKS OUTSIDE THE HOME! Inexcusable! Unless...Heavenly Father must've lost his job due to some sort of Heavenly downsizing?( "Another Omnipotent Creator of the Universe? We've got too many of those on staff as it is.")
Or maybe She's having a separate Heavenly Family Home Evening with her trillions of cooler non-Anglo children, which would make sense since none of them are pictured as present either.
Or maybe there IS no Heavenly Mother ( I mean, they didn't even give her a chair!) and all exalted figures are masculine...in which case...what the heck is wrong with SOME OF THOSE DUDES in the foreground, with the immaculately pre-mortally flat-ironed, longer-than-shoulder-length hair. Ya, there is something SERIOUSLY wrong with their pre-mortal anatomy ( some of which I won't mention here), believe you me. I sure hope they don't get sent down like that. *wince*

Freedom isn't free

So, I've been pondering several weeks on a subject and my conclusion on it. Since it's my narcissistic blog I will share.

The reason any group of people marginalize and ignore/enslave a segment of themselves is because it increases efficiency. Like the slave days of old, if you completely ignore the existence of ( i.e. "marginalize") a group of people then you get all the benefits of their labor ( "Oh look! Ridiculously cheap sugar and cotton! Perpetually clean housing and finished housework!) without having to take into account the other less convenient factors of their presence. We benefit, each and every one of us, from the largely ignored sacrifices of others. If we were to acknowledge the people we sacrifice, then we would have to grant them more personal rights and privileges which would then cancel out the benefits of labor-making the increase neutral. Whenever we grant freedoms to a group of people, it neutralizes the extra benefits we receive that much further.
Just stop and look around you for a second. I benefit immensely from the work of my professors, who I generally ignore and keep in the very VERY back of my mind. Yet, while I don't acknowledge my professors rights in my head, we as a society try to neutralize it a little by giving them paychecks , which invonvenience me ( and many tithing payers) by costing me money. I pay for the convenience with inconvenience to neutralize it. Since I don't entirely grasp the professors as individuals though, there is still an extra convenience that noone seems to pay for.
the same goes for things like electricians, postal workers, native Americans and pretty much every other group whose existence I ignore on a daily basis for and to my convenience.
It's easy to find who these human sacrifices are. They are the ones that are not mentioned in adds, conversation, media, or religion.

Bias

So, a dear friend of mine "Pinto" had an excellent blog post today. I've decided to make it a link. Read it.

Discovery

Though many of you may have figured this out, and while I may have heard it a million times...I've just realized it's a fact.

Stress=Paralysis

It's weird. The second I told myself it didn't matter whether or not I turned all these impossible papers in on time, or even passed the class or anything...it suddenly felt like I had regained sanity and agency for a second and I just started typing.

If you ever feel like it's impossible-take a nap, go online shopping, eat something and tell yourself it doesn't matter whether you pass or fail- as long as you can look your-self in the mirror at the end of the day and say that you did your best. It's weird how you suddenly regain control of your mind and limbs.

Goals

Come on Megan...you can do it. It's really really simple. Just do these four things before tomorrow....

1. Write Lesson analysis
2. Write Lesson Plan
3. Find your missing paper from music
4. Write a one page review of your music project.

As is fashionable...I will now spend about seven hours freaking myself out over these assignments and then spend about 30 minutes ( overlapping 15 of those in class time) finishing them. That seems to be the ratio. I wish I had excel because I'd make one kick-trash pie graph for that.

I think in mathematical equations and pie graphs. Normal? I sure hope not.

Miata

Miata...I just wanna say thanks for coming up and talking to be today at work. I love the social awesome. I bask in it.

A sneaking suspicion...

I have a sneaking suspicion of a few things that I have never really entertained notions of in the past...

I'm a little deaf in one ear, which can make things interesting...but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not as deaf as I think I am.

Perhaps I'm dyslexic ( I mean, as anyone else seen my random spelling errors...like how much I love "sefl-control"?)

I also have a sneaking suspicion that I'm having an actual,no joke, nervous breakdown, and have been for the past few months. It's a good thing I'm so slick and cool and put together in public. lol.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I am physically attracted to Whatshisname...ironic ironic ironic.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the strange shooting pains on the left side of my chest could be solved medically..or could kill me in a few years. At least I'd go down young and hot.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I am going to do "ok" this semester....which in megan terms is equivalent to wanna-jump-off-the-swkt territory. But I'll still be "OK" so perhaps megan terms need to lighten up a bit.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I am in love with clothes, politics and art. I should find another hobby...like spoon collecting or car repair...just to even myself out.

I have a sneaking suspicion that deep in the depths of my brain I'm a bit put off by the fact that Whatshisname hasn't called me begging to hang out.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I am a lot more pleased with with the Holiday Season than I am letting on.

Salon (NOTE: Must be said with a sexy French accent.)

So, I have always wanted to have a salon. No. Not the hair salon that you are thinking of. I'm thinking like Enlightenment Era party of brilliant people in brilliant rooms eating brilliant food and drinking brilliant drinks and talking about whatever brilliant things they wanted.
I want to be a salon hostess of the awesome caliber of like...the salonnières of the past. I'm talkin' Madame Geoffrin, Madame de Tencin,Julie de Lespinasse, the marquise du Deffand, the marquise de Lambert, the duchesse du Maine, Madame Necker,Madame Helvétius,Sophie de Condorcet,Madame Roland,Madame Swetchine, and Madame Récamier. They dressed well, thought well and held cool intellectual get-togethers ,making an otherwise oppressive time fabulous and straight-up sparkly. I think I should gradually start one. I will gradually invite my most brilliant friends out for SPARK drinks until I get like 5 or so every once and a while to hang with me ( so I can soak up the cool) while we all dress fabulously and talk about whatever we want. BRILLIANT!

Materialism

So, for the past few weeks or so I have actually, philosophically been TRYING to take a small voyage through the land of materialism and self-gratification. This has been a carefully measured and planned voyage, mostly to just test out new waters I have never previously tried....and you know what...it's actually pretty nice.
Now I KNOW that there is nothing healthy to be gained out of "stuff" and selfish behavior, but I now also see that there is nothing to be gained in purposely depriving one's self. One of the most ground-breaking discoveries I've had this year is that every path will turn out empty if you did not choose it for yourself. Every path.

So, my foray into materialism and self-gratification goes a little something like this. "Oh look! Something I want is for sale. I have my own money. I think I'll buy it." * montage of megan enjoying the thing she bought*

"Oh look! An event I wanted to attend! I think I'll go to it!"
*montage of megan going to event and enjoying it, and then thinking about it afterward*

"Oh look. Something I don't want to do! I think I'll ignore it and do what I want to do instead."
*montage of megan sleeping or watching clips of political satire online*




Now, making this way of life a philosophy for the last few weeks ( it will all end on new year's day) has really opened my eyes. For me, anyway, it's actually been somewhat of a spiritual growth experience. I sometimes think that, women especially, grow spiritually by making MORE allowances for themselves, not less. I'm not saying that it's good to ride the tidal wave of hedonism into the black cliffs of self-destruction. I have, however, come to the conclusion with this philosophical experiment that there is a lot more wiggle room than we think and that pampering and appeasing one's-self is actually really ridiculously healthy. Not to say I'm not still a control freak or that I do not value self-control ( DUDE...self-control and I go WAAAAY back. If self-control was a man, we'd have like 300 kids by now. I LOVE SEFL-CONTROL...tis my favorite virtue) but I see that other people have validity in their indulgence and materialism. So there.

Budget

I have set aside about 200 dollars for Spending for the next two weeks

About 50 bucks of this will be turned into a religious donation

so 150 bucks

an undisclosed item of personal import and desire is about 90 bucks

So we're down to sixty

Nice Cable-knit fingerless gloves are about 20

So we're down to 40

Christmas Shopping for my Fam-....apparently under 40...unless I hold off on the gloves until it snows...which it may never from the look/feel of it.

No wait....Chacos are about 60 bucks....which puts me 20 bucks in the out of my budgeted allotment. Hmmmmmm. So wait. No gloves and no undisclosed purchase until I pay for the already arranged chaco purchase. Deal. That frees me up over 100 dollars for family christmas shopping. Good. Very Good.


I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to go to divine comedy and the play I want to see. I probably shouldn't have double booked myself so atrociously. Meh. This bites.

New fashion

So, besides my recent plunge into self discovery ( Oh...so THAT's how I look sans makeup...hm. *matter-of-factly* Well, that's horrifying.) I've been interested in new types of fashion. Namely, I want a pair of fingerless gloves, which have a strange sexiness to them that I have not tapped into. My regular business, military, old-school-socialist and vicotrian fetishes still apply. The goal is modern business woman meets victorian awesome. Think beautiful suffragette ( which they all were)CEO. That's the ticket. Lace, military, principal.

Oh, and leather gloves. I've always wanted nicely lined, pro-looking leather gloves.

I'm disturbed at how difficult it is for me to just sit still and read. I guess it comes from lack of practice, upheld by a long appreciation of film over book. I must remedy that.

Why do I always write about clothes? I guess it must be one of my passions. My other passions are in growth, like caterpillar in cocoon mode. I don't want to bust them out yet lest they slop out as helpless, easily-destructible ,biological, almost-butterfly sludge.

Oh, I've also decided to update the list of names for my future pets/houseplants/adoptees/spawn

Christabel
Asher
Jefferson
Hamilton
Sophia
Gaia
Hyrum
Kai
Roxcy
Xarrissa
Reagan
Barrack
Deborah
Emerson
Boston
Athena
Mariem
Valene

Oh, screw this. I'll figure it out when I get another houseplant. Hillary is still goin' strong, and I haven't watered her in forever.

I should probably get on that.

I'm just gonna kick back and relax right now though. I'm still hangin' out at the work desk. From where I sit I can see that someone still needs to shelve "Optimum Kayak" and "Cultural Landscape".

8 Hour Shift

Today I get to work eight hours straight through. I prepared for this day like one prepares for an overnight camping excursion. I've got food, money, entertainment...I even brought homework and nail polish just in case I need a break. It's going to be a fun day.

Back in the saddle again...

Does anyone besides me think that this blog is kind of a strain on the eyes? Like the colors or the title or something. It should probably be a little bit more interesting. I mean, right now it's probably only interesting to those who stalk me...but even they're bound to get bored once in a while.


Well....here's the THIRD...THIRD attempt at finding a ring I like. Too much? It's got rubies and pearls. I personally wish it was yellow gold...and even though it's victorian ( My favorite), it seems a wee bit flowery demasiado. Thoughts?

The Book of the Megan Club

Current Fun Reading Book ( the best procrastination since the T.V.)

GOOD MORNING!

GOOOD MORNING!

I've decided that today is going to be tres fabulous...and to start it off right...I should probably get dressed.

Also, my subhuman livingassociates keep this place freakishly cold. The benefit of having subhuman livingassociates, however, is that save very chilly and scream worthy mornings, the utility bill is always pleasant. :)


Happy Holidays!

Bodily Harm

If I have to buy myself one more filing box, one more poster board or laminate one more thing....something tragic will happen...to a squirrel...or a seahorse...or some other kind and gentle creature of the wild...

Impossible things are happening everyday....

I've got to turn in a huge folder tomorrow at 1:30 for art, with tons of art and lesson plans and lamination and time involved. Money and time makes art a crappy subject. I've also got to ( no...get to....ya...get to) take a math exam tomorrow...sometime...which I will be up all night studying for. Right now I'm trying to "laminate" printed off art at work with clear packaging tape ( oh, I can mess this up in so many ways...just watch me.....). So, using my magic I have got to ( get to) stay up all night finishing an impossibly huge, improbably expensive Art folder, then I have to ( get to) take a math exam somewhere in there, and THEN I get to look at all the rest of the piling homework I've got that I haven't even looked at yet, and get on top of all my teachers who lose my assignments, then write several papers, then prepare a very large and important presentation, then see a play and somewhere in there I'm sure I'm going to forget something....it seems pretty dire right now...but i was MADE for dire. The goal right now is to TAKE the test and turn ANYTHING in. If that's my goal ( which I think I can maybe accomplish in my wildest dreams) then it at least seems doable. Ka-chow!

No.....no way.....

SOLD OUT.
OH MY GOSH.
No way, can't be, no.

But yes. Both of them. Just today.

I've gotten to the point where everything must be happening for a reason. It had better be a very...very good reason. Like, that reason better be so good....

I'm actually not so distraught. It's more like I'm in awe of Providence's new found methods of ironically torturing me. It's kinda like an "Oh...you're good."

In my element...

So today I taught interp-dance and I directed a children's play. I was in my element. You should have seen me, alive and charming like that.
Now, I've been riding the "I wanna die" express of unmotivational hell for the last few weeks, but put me in a leadership position where I know I can succeed...BINGO!

I really think that a lot of Megan-ite woe and failure comes from a feeling that I cannot influence things ( you know, right a wrong, get an "A", save a puppy from runaway bus....) When you shut off my success or my chance of success..you essentially shut me off.
I AM drive.

I'm like the kangaroo ( "pouch?" you inquire? Funny but no.). Kangaroos are biologically constructed to exert less energy while leaping and moving quickly then while "walking" or being still. I'm getting exhausted not being in a productive leadership . Being productive is different than having things to do. Being productive means feeling useful and in control.

I think I would probably commit some sort of atrocity of crazy proportions if I get stuck in a non-dominant role for eternity. I mean, look at me now...I'm withering and DYING. I've got bags under my eyes and my favored lover Mr. LeGYM and I haven't had time together for weeks. Oh, LeGYM...how I miss thee.

I guess to sum it up...my passion is to take control and change the world. The world I live in now says I can't even run a Family Home Evening. In fact, the world I live in now suggests that my purpose in life is to be run over. As a result, I am cracking. Like nervous breakdown cracking ( no really). Perhaps if I had a different passion...a different inherent combination of humors, a different education...no wait...I'd still be going insane.

I wonder what I was like in my previous life? I mean, I must've been pretty hard core, with all my current idiosyncrasies (did I dance around in my pre-mortal pajamas singing hits from the pre-mortal top-twenty with my pre-mortal lungs?)which make me currently mysterious and adorable.
HEEE! ( dorky grin...no extra charge).

Also, I agree small dog. I'm in love with the pearl one. Just watch...it'll be sold out when I go to order. Just watch.

Also, FlamingPioneer...where would I find Dialogue?

How becoming...

Becoming a dangerously sexy social butterfly again.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. DON'T MAKE ME! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUEL!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
....ok............

That process takes place in about a 2 or 3 year period, from "NOOO-" to "..."

Once more into the breach....

And once more for comparison sake....

VAPID BLOG

Hookay. So, another entry to my vapid blog. ( I've got 4 Blogs..one that's deep, one that's private, and one that's full of my dreams and allegorical emotional wailing...not to be confused with emotional whaling. *picture a weeping, whining Ahab*)


Hookey. I've been on the lookout for an appropriate ruby ring replacement. I find myself torn betwixt dos options.

Now, I will tell you the benefits of both. The one with pearls has the benefit of having pearls (from whence my name derives its meaning when translated from welsh). It is also nice, real pearls, real rubies, and doesn't poke out and ruin my many gorgeous sweaters nor run my designer tights ( oh, yes I do). It is also about 10 dollars cheaper ( that's not much in fine jewelry percentages) than the other choice. It also has the advantage of being suitable for add-ons...see above, so I can buy more. The other ring has larger rubies ( a plus), and looks a little nicer. Also, it has the advantage of being able to stand alone ( which is a quality I like in men, women and accessories). Not that any of you have thoughts..but if you do...what are they?

Poetess of the Month

Sappho


Although they are

Although they are
only breath, words
which I command
are immortal






Blame Aphrodite

It's no use
Mother dear, I
can't finish my
weaving
You may
blame Aphrodite

soft as she is

she has almost
killed me with
love for that boy






I took my lyre

I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly
tortoise shell: become
a speaking instrument

Equations

The amount of Happiness and Success an individual man or woman possesses is directly proportional to the amount of control that individual has over their own life.

The amount of respect I get from adult males for vocational or educational success is inversely proportional to my perceived attractiveness.

Ignorance multiplied by the number of correct inferences made by an individual equals a constant.

and...from SmileBoy....time=money
school (Smile Boy put "girls")= time * money
school= money ^2
money= (evil)^(1/2)
school= ((evil)^(1/2))^2
school= evil

I KNEW IT!


Hey...I just bought groceries, Christmas decor and an MP3 player. I'm the woman right now! Whoot. I also bought two movies, returned all my library books and prints, got my art files bound...now I've just got to revise my DEATH PAPER again ( literal sob), write a lesson plan ( loading nerf gun) for dance, and write a play based on BLUEBERRIES FOR SAL ( shoot myself in the head with loaded nerf gun). Living day at a time.

Tapping into my Motivation

I love school. I love papers. I love assignments. I love my expensive education. I love The Club. I love cleaning. I love working. I love Organization. I love not-self-destructing. I love exercise. I love spending money on my major. I LOVE IT. (repeat as needed).

Alphabetically Organized Musings

a. I FOUND IT.. THE LOOK I've been trying to go for since I got out of sparkles and embroidered butterflies in the eighth grade. Behold! Jessica Biel in the Illusionist! She has the look I always wanted and strive for! It's glorious! The hair! Her dresses! It was like visual CANDY!
b. Today my teacher praised me on "embracing my inner child". She told me this when i told her that I forgotten my lesson plan. I don't know about you, but my inner child was ON TOP OF IT with homework. It's more likely I'm embracing my inner college student....which is also my outer college student. I think that THAT LADY'S inner back-handed compliment giver and my inner child need to DUKE IT OUT! This is especially offensive since I've spent the last few decades trying to comfine my inner child to a cardboard box in the basement. Is that like inner-child abuse? I guess I'm now coming to grips with my inner child. She's pretty cool, confident, fabulous and adorable...see above.
c. I just turned in the worst paper I have ever written ever. I am going to die and my grades will never forgive me.
d. Confession TIME! Sometimes I over-eat and don't shower with the actual honest-to-goodness intent of being unattractive. I actually feel more motivated and in control if I'm not running away from males. It's like I'm actually my own person and can do whatever I want!
d.5- I am having a hard time coming to grips with the idea of a long-term relationship of any kind. I mean, do I really want to MARRY all those idiosyncrasies?
e. I am taking a hyatus. I'm calling it "Shell regrowth time". I'm really liking it. It's like a vaction/off-season training regimen for my sanity. "It's ok sanity, Megan ( and her flakey inner child) will take care of you."
f. I hate the word flakey. It always reminds me of like a flakey scalp. I also hate the word chuncky. I don't think of fat people as "chunky". I think of Campbell's chunkey soup, or chocolate chunk icecream as chunky. "Chunky" people do not have big chunks in them. That'd be weird looking and not nearly as pillowy.
g.There are many films I want to see. I post everything I want, that can be publically known, on facebook. This is actually just a useful tool I use for my own reference, so that there is an easy way to get back to the cool things I find.
h. Dear World: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Love Megan
i. So I went to the U of U/ BYU game this week. I sat on the Ute side and wore red. It was actually a blast and one of the funnest things I've done in a while. I was even on the winning side and rushed the feild. No joke. Loved it. It was kind of a schizophrenic experience , though. " YESSSSS! WE WON!...no...wait a minute....where...am...I?" Being an undercover BYU student at a Ute game is always fun. One second they're giving everyone the finger and screaming, but accidentally bump into them and they turn into the nicest ladies and gentlemen you've ever met. After the game ( 300-something dollar ticket game...which I didn't pay), I ate at (what I believe is called) The Texas Roadhouse. Pulled Pork and Ribs Baby. Pulled Pork and Ribs.
j. My sister has a book club now. If only I was literate enough to do things like read. I might order one of the books she's got and try to talk to her about it, as a form of social insurance.
k. I need to get some basic things like ironing and hygein out of the way. It's been too long.

I can't spell.

I can't spell. I don't value grammar. My blog looks like it was written by an intoxicated preschooler. You're welcome.

Cherishing the little islands of sanity.

So, I showed BasketballGlasses "seriously so blessed" and he loved it. I read it myself for some sad sick laughs, and then BasketballGlasses and I talked about how sick it was that our culture has bred the kind of seriously so blessed monsters we all mock and fear.

"I think that it's probably much worse for girls."

" Well Megan, at least they aren't the ones hitting on you."

And you know what, BasketballGlasses has a point. I really respect BasketballGlasses. He's a cool dude. It must be hard to have to sort through the tubs of marshmallow fluff in order to find an honest-to-goodness unindoctrinated individual. You poor guys. I just have to live with them, but you have to marry them. So sorry dudes. I'd fix the insanity if I could.

There was also a slight twang of guilt upon discovering that I, perhaps, speak and write more like "Seriously So Blessed" than I'd like to admit. However, my thoughts are so mine. "Seriously So Blessed" would promptly throw sharp ( yet adorably serrated) scrapbooking scissors at me if she could read my mind. (Note: I am aware that the "name" of the "writer" of that blog is not the blog's name itself. I just don't remember the individual's "name" right now.)

So, yesterday I went to a 2:30 AM showing of "Twilight". Now, let me just say that I am not a huge fan of the books. I have only read one ( as social insurance), and I'm not particularly invested in either Jacob Black or Edward Cullen....until now. Now, maybe it was the fact that I was DEAD exhausted, as well as emotionally drained and recently inhibition liberated, but MAN...that movie did things to me. I squeeled. I screamed. I "awwwed". I fell in love with Edward Cullin ( who I didn't think was all that attractive in the previews...but have since repented). I was very excited, my breathing heavy, my body on fire for a good three hours. Which brings me to a very serious, and seldom discussed topic.

My sexuality.
I've got one. It's pretty cool.

I'm going to admit that I was really turned on by that film. I was giddly and uncomfotably comfortable. I really wanted to be with someone right then.
"Twilight" was a parade of beautiful men on a scree, who were talented, flawless, emotionally available and powerful yet trustworthy and protective. These traits are the very traits, I believe, that all people (male or female, of any sexual orientation) want in their partners. These are the traits a geisha was prized for- the complete human attractive.
"Protective?", I hear some ask, confused that I would refer to geisha in such a way. Yes. There is a female style of protective, the kind that you ran to your Mom for, and she would hold you on her lap, run her fingers through your hair and tell you that everything is going to be alright, before shoving the bad neighbor kids out the door, and giving you a warm muffin and milk.
Imagine how comfortable it would be for a japanese ceo, just back from a terrible business meeting, and in need of some female "protective" power from the mean world outside.
"It's ok Mr. Kawasaki. Yamamoto Whiskey's stocks will rise in the holiday season, and you can just stay here with me until your business partners take the train back to Kobe in the morning."

Now, I'm gonna bust out some Joseph Campbell on you.

Essentially we all want our entire spread of relationships in life. We all want a Mother,a Father, a Sister, a Brother, a Daughter and a Son and Spouse ( Lover)- type relationships in life. These are archetypes. Our relationships with Diety are often very fulfilling because Diety allow us to use them in all of these contexts. Jesus Christ is Our Father, Our Brother, and he is the "Groom" ( noting all sorts of biblical references and the Oh, so popular song by Cherie Call "He gives flowers to everyone), and Our Son ( ya, we LOVE to sing about "the poor baby Jesus asleep on the hay". There's the Forgotten Carol's Christmas Song about a childless woman's experience with Christ called "Mary Let me hold her baby." The baby Jesus is kind of a cultural subconscious obsession, but he let's us think of him that way at times...mostly cause I think he's a nice guy, and lets us use him to fill our needs without zapping us. Dieties rock at that.)

Now the real trick is that we should all be like Christ in being able to fill all these roles people need in their lives. That's why Edward Cullin and the other vampires, besides being straight up biologically good looking ( the lover relationship being mostly about physical attraction and gratification), are also vulnerable ( sons and daughters), personable and relatable ( brothers and sisters), and all powerful and protective ( Mothers and Fathers). They're freaking perfect. Filling all those roles gives the person you fill those roles for a definite desire to worship you.

Which brings me to two little musings.
Is there a place for emotional stimulation like the film "Twilight" in marriages? I couldn't help but think how great it would be for me and my husband if I had THAT kind of aphrodisiac hanging around the DVD collection.

I am often very VERY careful about my use of sexuality, mostly because I would feel very guilty about using someone for strictly physical purposes. There have been days, just like every other human being on the planet, when I have seriously thought of calling up InsertNameHere and putting my drama training to good work to get a little physical frustration out of the way. Frankly,however, I can only imagine how that person would feel and I would never do that to someone. I think that's awful, but then again, in a marriage, sexual activity is more of bonding activity than anything, and is probably used for the emotional and physical benefit of both couples, and not necessarily for overwhelming senses of commitment and passion. I would imagine it being completely legit for a married couple, after a long day of school, work and chores to decide to have sex to help each other calm down, get a high and feel better.
In that context, perhaps I shouldn't be so overly careful about who I share physical affection with. If I would never marry someone, but still appreciate and value them, and if we both would value-theoretically why not hug and kiss a little? ( Now before everyone FREAKS OUT...these are just my musings on the logic of the subject. I think that making out with strangers or people you are not in a relationship with to be very distasteful, and that opinion probably won't change. This is mostly just to open discussion.)

Also, tomorrow I am going to the Ute Game in Salt Lake ( 300 and something dollar ticket...MINE! Bwahahahahaha.) All I have to do if find a way to get down there. I'm going to try the bus/train approach but SincerityPersonified may or may not just drive me up there tomorrow morning. I'm really crossing my fingers for that option.