Monday, September 19, 2011

Good Intentions

My head has been in such a fog, that I have had a really hard time putting logical or interesting thoughts together. But today, I had every intention of taking time today to put together a great post-procedure review.

When I finally got around to taking a shower about noon-ish, I found evidence that my head was still a haze:

AN EKG PATCH STILL ATTACHED TO MY BODY!?!?!?!?!

I know I have complained about the irritation of the patches and the goo they leave behind in the past (see most of July's posts), so the fact that I've had one on my left rib cage for 4 days unnoticed, even in previous showers, is all the evidence necessary to postpone an update for one more day.

Tomorrow....I promise....pretty sure about that.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Up-Swing

Today was much better than yesterday. Maybe tomorrow I'll even be able to put some coherent thoughts down. Wouldn't that be nice?

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Boo!

Today was rough. First thing this morning my mom warned me that day 2 & 3 post-surgery are the worst...she was oh so right.

Then to top it off, an ugly loss by BYU to Utah. Tomorrow can only be better!

Friday, September 16, 2011

Not That Easy

The Cardiac Ablation was a success! My heart rate is steady and paced just right!

Now there's a huge learning curve about "taking it easy". I've already miscalculated my abilities and the consequences were wicked nasty!

I'm very lucky to have my parents here to keep me in check and to sit by my side when I overdo it. Very lucky!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep........

This post is brought to you by the Emergency Pre-Posting Service.

I'm anticipating that I won't be in the mood for blogging today...what with the burning up of my heart this morning...so this is a reminder that I'm out of commission, but happily accepting prayers and well wishes!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Surgery Eve

There is anxiety bubbling deep down. I guess it's a blessing that I feel so physically wiped out that I don't really have the luxury of entertaining the anxiety. I want to feel better...and this crazy procedure is supposed to make that happen (fingers crossed!).

I'm not worried about something terminal happening, I think I've worked past all of those fears. Now my fear is fighting through recovery to only find that things didn't exactly work out. I have had a lifetime of learning to settle for less than the best...but I want to put my foot down on this one!...it has to work! HAS to!!!!!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Awesome

Following yesterday's pathetic post, I was compelled to find something uplifting today. The following was posted on a few friend's Facebook walls during the last week and I thought I'd share it here:


There was a time when you were five years old,
and you woke up full of awesome.
You knew you were awesome.
You loved yourself.
You thought you were beautiful,
even with missing teeth and messy hair and mismatched socks inside your grubby sneakers.
You loved your body, and the things it could do.
You thought you were strong.
You knew you were smart.
Do you still have it?
The awesome.
Did someone take it from you?
Did you let them?
Did you hand it over, because someone told you weren’t beautiful enough, thin enough, smart enough, good enough?
Why the hell would you listen to them?
Did you consider they might be full of shit?
Wouldn’t that be nuts, to tell my little girl below that in another five or ten years she might hate herself because she doesn’t look like a starving and Photoshopped fashion model?
Or even more bizarre, that she should be sexy over smart, beautiful over bold?
Are you freaking kidding me?
Look at her. She is full of awesome.
You were, once. Maybe you still are. Maybe you are in the process of getting it back.
All I know is that if you aren’t waking up feeling like this about yourself, you are really missing out.

This post reminded me, of what I've been told, about who I was when I was young...before I knew that I was supposed to judge and hate on myself or others. I was overflowing with Awesome.

I was also reminded of a super cool YouTube that still makes me laugh:

Monday, September 12, 2011

Get Thee to a Nunnery


I have a friend who worked for the LDS church compiling social statistics of the membership. She shared a fact that I found horrifying...

Temple recommend holding members of the church (those in full activity), who were single and over the age of 35 reported 50:1 = Women:Men. This cold hard statistic is super depressing for a single LDS woman hoping to marry an active LDS man.

This statistic has been a "go to" in many of the dating conversations I have with Sassy as we try to make sense of why dating seems so impossible. That statistic even provoked an idea to start a Mormon Nunnery. We figured that if 98% of the active women in the church will statistically die alone, and we know so many of them to be fun and kind and interesting and capable, a lot of good could be done if we productively joined forces similar to those of traditional Nunneries.

Of course, we've never done anything about that thought because truth is, deep down, we really are hoping to be in the 2%. I have been known to do all kinds of things to keep that hope alive, like wear jewelry with the word "Hope" stamped all over it...or tell myself that there really are thousands of good men out there but I just haven't met them yet...or silently pray that a good man will finally get out of his bad marriage and be thrilled when he learns what I have to offer.

And then something will be brought to my attention and I'm suddenly embarrassed and apologetic for my silly tactics. Something like the essay found here:


Warning, it is long and insane...but there is a big part of me that feels certain that it is representative of the majority of the men in my dating pool.

I've had some time to simmer down and I'm left with two thoughts in response to the essay:

1.) I will most certainly die alone...it seems the only fate for a chubby girl

2.) I am sooooooo lucky to be chubby...it means I have absolutely zero risk of ever being` married to that guy

(I'm copying, in full, the essay found at the link above...because if the dude sobers up and removes it, I want to be able to come back comedic purposes later.)

CONFESSIONS OF A WARD HOPPER

Who Are You?

I'm a serial ward hopper. I'm a thirty-two year old single male living in Salt Lake City. Since getting home from my European mission twelve years ago, I have been ward hopping. I have attended every LDS singles ward that has existed in the last decade from Provo to Ogden - and a few in Vegas, California, Washington and St. George. I feel like I'm in a singles war rather than a singles ward. I wander endlessly, searching for a spouse, and never finding one. I don't know when my luckless expedition will end, but I know that I am an expert on Mormon singles wards. I know everything about them -- as only a ward hopper could -- and I am so conflicted about them that I fee compelled to write this short essay for no reason I can explain.

How Do You Know?

I can drive through the parking lot of any random meeting house on Sunday and tell just from the cars in the lot if a singles ward is meeting inside. When I'm hunting for a new ward, if I see minivans and SUVs, I move on to the next church. If I see bumper stickers, old trucks, and sub-compacts, I park and go in. I know what type of singles fill university wards, YSA wards, and single adult wards. I know how their members think and what they want. I recognize a hundred other ward hoppers I run into over-and-over as the years roll by. We ignore each other because we know we can expose each other. We're not really just visiting, and we didn't really just move into the boundaries.

I know that ward hoppers favor the afternoon meeting times when the attendances are bigger. I know most ward hoppers are Internet daters because they're into appearances and playing the numbers. I can tell within thirty seconds of meeting another priesthood holder whether that Elder is addicted to porn by watching which women he glances at. I can tell from the response I get to a single smile whether any young woman is from a small town, whether she is spoiled and stuck up, and whether she is a democrat.

I have seen everything in singles wards. I have seen anti-Mormons testify the Church isn't true on the stand in testimony meetings while being video-taped. I've seen "quiet" gay protests in Sacrament meetings where people sing out of up-side-down hymnals and read from up-side-down scriptures. I have seen a reenactment of the "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera during sacrament meeting, complete with the Phantom in a porcelain mask fondling Christine on the stand. I have seen Elders show up for church dressed like Vampires telling me they're "Emos" (with skin-tight pants and painted black hair that could only have been styled by flushing their head down the toilet). I have met two confused, fanatical bishoprics that require all potential ward members to pass background checks and own a car to join the ward. I have seen Chinese horoscopes appear printed on the back of Sacrament meeting programs. I have seen the Qur'an quoted on a Sacrament meeting program . . . on Christmas! I was informed that the Gay pride festival was coming to town in the announcement section on another Sacrament program. And singles wards, like all wards, need to set apart a Gunny from the Marine Corps to teach the Priesthood how to pass the Sacrament in an organized fashion, like soldiers, so they don't wander all over with the trays bumping into each other like blind mice.

What Do You Think?

I hate singles wards -- and so does everyone who attends them -- but we all keep going to them, pretending we like them, pretending like we belong, only because we all want to get married to someone who's LDS and we believe the wards are a necessary mine field in our lives. The reason we believe this is because, in fact, they are necessary. There is no where else to go to meet LDS singles in person and no other way to get to know them - particularly for those of us working a lot during the week. I want to go to a home ward where I know there is more focus on spirituality, gospel and family. I want to be married with kids to someone beautiful who's LDS, who's not spoiled, who needs me - and I need to find that person before I settle in a home ward. I'm desperate, and my grip on innocence is slipping as I get older, and life passes me by without a ward or a spouse.

Several weeks ago, there was a knock on my door. I opened it and the Elders quorum presidency of my local home ward introduced themselves. I had never seen them before, even though I've lived in my apartment for two years. They invited themselves in. We all sat down. They told me they were out trying to reactivate inactive ward members, and wondered if I would consider coming back to church. I was shocked. I wasn't inactive, I assured them. In fact, I attend church every Sunday, usually more than once. I told them I was attending a singles ward across town. They asked why my records had been sent to the home ward. I told them it was because I'd gotten too old to have them transferred to that YSA ward, but was attending anyway. They asked why my records weren't at the older ward, for singles over thirty-one years old. I was uncomfortable in that ward, I told them. Everyone was obese and socially inept. I didn't want to be on the inactive list, but I realized then that I have become a ghost. I am a member of the Church who wants to be active, but nobody knows I exist. I am in Church every Sunday, but nobody knows where. I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Why Don't You Talk to Your Bishopric?

Although I attend church every Sunday, I don't have a bishop that knows me - and I miss my old bishops that used to like me when I was younger. I consider myself active, but don't always know where to pay my tithing, so I stock pile it, and then pay in random places, or sometimes not at all. My temple recommend expired two years ago. I want to renew it, but I don't know which bishop to see. I want to pay tithing at my homeward, but don't want to attend it because I need to keep jumping around singles wards looking for someone I haven't found yet.

I do date. Sometimes I date a lot, but sometimes not at all. I sometimes meet girls at the singles wards, but find there are only about four girls in each singles ward I would consider dating - and they usually aren't interested in me for reasons that are painful and not totally clear. I can often meet all the girls in a ward that I want to meet in a few weeks, realize I'm not connecting, and then I have to move on to another ward looking for others. The girls I want to marry do exist. I meet them from time-to-time, but it hasn't worked out with any yet.

I have met dozens of bishops and bishoprics . . . and I am amazed to say that until I met those requiring background checks to join the wards, I had never met a bad one out of dozens. In fact, the most amazing things about YSA wards to me are the quality and truly Christian traits of their leaders. I attend them in a constant state of profound surprise at the charisma, intelligence, charity, testimony, education, and commitment they demonstrate in their callings and to the ward members. Even their families are committed to their callings, and the bishoprics have socials at their homes all the time.

Are you Inactive and Sleeping Around?

Never slept with anyone. In the last ten years, I have kissed a lot of young women, but I have never broken the Law of Chastity - even though the thought has crossed my mind a few times, and has crossed the minds of girls I'm dating more than a few times. I refuse to sell out all I've learned and believe for a ten minute thrill. A third of the girls I kissed out of charity - to be nice to them when I didn't like them but knew they would feel bad if I didn't. About a third of them kissed me for the same reason. With regard to other third, we both genuinely liked each other, but the relationship just hasn't worked - mostly because of my own flaws, which I don't know how to get over.

I have fought hard for ten years to maintain my virginity, and have managed to hold on to it, but loosely. The older I get, the harder it becomes, in some twisted way, to abstain from physical intimacy - but not because of the physical urges. For me, it's a matter of calculated relationship management. I have realized the girls I date expect and want more physical intimacy that the Church permits as I get older. It's paradoxic. In some way, the intimacy improves the relationship. In another way, the intimacy hurts the relationship - and I've seen relationships end for both reasons. It's a Garden of Eden problem at every turn. The only solution seems to be marriage, but I can't seem to get there.

The sad thing is that I don't want the watered-down physical intimacy anymore. I have had just enough of it that it has ruined the mystére I used to image I would find only in marriage, and that drove me to marry early. As a lawyer, I am always stressed out, and this causes me to get cold sores a lot, which I have found are a convenient excuse not to kiss girls and waste a lot of time after dates, so I won't medicate for them. My current cold sore is healing and I'm worried it's going to cause me to have to waste lots of time with girls during the next few weeks, so I don't want it to go away. I'm not really interested in kissing anymore. I'm interested in getting married and all that happens in the dark afterwards, and don't really want to venture there anymore 'til I find the one I'll marry.

When I start sensing that a girl seems to like me, I get overly anxious and start confessing all my sins and talking too eagerly about all the things I think and want to share with someone, and then the girl gets worried I'm eccentric and bails out because she usually has a lot of other options - options she has for the same reason I'm interested in her.

What's Wrong with Girls in Singles Wards?

Two thirds of the young women are overweight. These girls all think that because they have good personalities, or good jobs, or are well-educated that guys should care more about who they are than how they look. Someone needs to make them understand that young men will never want to be intimate with them if they're even a little heavy, and they're doomed if they don't lose weight. If these girls understood the world and men, they'd all quit their jobs, drop out of school, and devote themselves soley to losing weight. It's that important. While beauty isn't the only important thing in a girl, it is the gateway to the other qualities which no man cares about exploring without the attraction. No amount of makeup will cover a size fifteen dress size. Like men, women have an obligation to be happy, to procreate, to start a family, to experience humanity and love -- which means they've got an obligation to lose some weight to accomplish that. Nobody would have wanted to kiss Sleeping Beauty if she were a fatty with a Ph.d. Hate the game if you want, but you can't change the rules, and you women are chosing old maid-hood. As Bruce Springsteen would say, you can't start a fire without a spark. The other third of the girls who aren't overweight have a different problem, which I'll illustrate by describing what happens when I go to dinner with them. We sit down at a nice dinner, and they begin to dawdle on about somebody who's suffering some medical or emotional problem. They then begin to extol the virtues of holistic/herbal medicine and animal rights, which apparently this person who's suffering doesn't understand. I nod in increasing frustration as they begin to praise vegetarianism, then proceed to pontificate about liberalism/feminism/homosexuality from mental notes they took in a humanities class being taught by some gutless, godless, gay, liberal hippee freak at the University of Utah (or follower thereof who they hang out with at Starbucks or somewhere). At least two-thirds of young women in the Church have been herded like sheep into this stuff thinking it makes them smart, and soon they're into astrology and other weird illogical world views. These women actually hold men in contempt who don't share their "enlightenment" on these philosophies. Like I said, I have seen horoscopes appear printed on Sacrament meeting programs. It seems like many LDS women who aren't married seek to identify with bizarre belief systems, as if these beliefs have become their spouses, to the point they become blind to real life. I am amazed how many women spend all dinner telling me about pharmaceutical companies conspiring to cover up a cure for cancer that holistic doctors have discovered, or who refuse to eat because they are doing "cleanses" with exotic fruit juices, as if somehow these fruit cleansers form covalent bonds with all the toxins in their bodies and clean them out. I am amazed at what a huge amount of women in the Church criticize the Church openly for what they perceive to be conservative/puritanical social perspectives on women, gays, divorce, the temple, wedlock, and adultery/fornication - even totally active singles. All of these beliefs have somehow replaced these women's testimonies and retarded their ability to appreciate and interact with traditional, non-artsy, down-to-earth males, which are the only males who can support a family. This is one of the reasons men aren't going to college as much anymore.

Then, there is another pervasive problem that I observe across LDS women before going on dates . . . pride. It's the high school mentality that takes over half the girls in the ward. The girls start behaving in YSA wards like they did in high school, forming clicks, and deciding which groups of people they'll socialize with and which they won't, ignoring wards members who haven't integrated themselves into the clicks, or associated themselves with others. I am convinced that the YSA wards create an environment that breeds a degree of superficiality, in which many of the best men in the YSA wards are overlooked because they refuse to participate in the superficiality, or lack the time or inclination to do so. The men, of course, have problems too, but not as many in my opinion. They're overweight also, and many have grown up being sissies, tattletales, or general losers (some become aware of it and try to change). I don't think weight matters as much for men, though, even though I recognize the double-standard I espousing saying so. The biggest problem I've noticed with men as they get older in singles wards is they begin blaming their unhappiness in life on their parents rather than trying to change whatever is causing it themselves. As a lawyer, I am taught to look for jurors in jury trials who do this because it's a sign they're easily influenced and gullible -- and is usually a sign of defensive attribution bias.

What About Your Testimony?

I defend the Church like a Danite. I always have, and always will. My faith is solid as a rock. I cherish the pioneer heritage my ancestors have legated to me. Yet, I have had my testimony questioned by girls in singles wards because of the fact I sometimes sport a goatee and drive a motorcycle. I've choked on tears as girls I loved and wanted to marry decided instead to marry other guys who later became gay, devoted their lives to playing XBox, or promptly went inactive - but seemed like clean cut guys at the time to these girls.

I am so sick of whiners who attack the Church year in and year out, including gays, Jews, apostatized members, inbred evangelical "Christians," liberals, my educated friends, and the like. I once wondered out-loud on a talk radio program whether the Mountain Meadows Massacre was justified. I can't stand people who attack the church and condescend to it. I hate politicians like Rocky Anderson, and I won't usually vote for non-members running for elected office on that basis alone - especially apostatized former members. Why should I feel bad, or bigoted, about it either? This is Utah, and I want politicians who will protect, and not betray, its most important heritage: Mormonism. I don't want a bunch of secular, touchy-feely imbeciles who appologize for Utah's culture and religious majority, or who think Utahans are sheltered and naive. I resent academics who try to make impressionable/insecure coeds ashamed of Utah, or convince them that they have somehow transcended the non-existent Utah "bubble." These people are weak-minded. Utah has the highest mix of bilingual males per capita anywhere in the US, and the highest cross-segment of male Caucasians in the world who have lived in foreign countries. Nobody is naive here except the person that fornicated at a frat party, or somewhere, after smoking weed and thinks they're enlightened because of it.

Who Are You Really?

I am thirty-two years old Caucasian male, and will soon be thirty-three. I went to BYU and then to lawschool, and now I'm a lawyer. I'm 6'2, and fairly slim. I used to body-build, but now I just drink Coke and watch FOX News. I have thinning brown hair and blue eyes that are so piercing that sometimes I find whole rooms of people falling silent and staring at them as I enter. I like to think I'm attractive and smart; but, in moments of pain and failure, I realize that I am not as attractive and smart as I've convinced myself I am. I am constantly stressed about cases, clients, being single, money and my habitual disorganization. My apartment is a disaster, and so are my cars. My father is a convert to the Church, and totally devout. He is in the Stake Presidency, and wants me to get married very much. I want to honor his wishes.

I sue a lot of people. I make over $100,000 a year, but waste a lot of it on toys. I have two boats, two motorcycles, four cars, and part ownership in a plane - and I love owning them all. I bought all these things thinking they would improve my dating life, but it doesn't seem to have worked. I go fishing at Strawberry Reservoir alone sometimes, and go on a lot of motorcycle rides.

I never imagined getting home from my mission I would be this old and unmarried. I came home young and innocent, and so anxious to meet a beautiful young woman and marry her. It didn't happen, even though I proposed to several girls only to be denied, and it was a heart-breaking experience ending up where I am. Now I'm getting older, and lonelier. I'm sad and a cynical, and unsure what I need to do to get married and be happy. I am also becoming increasingly worried that even if I get married, somehow my wife won't be happy with me and it will be a disaster because I'm getting too set in my ways now, so I'm scared of escaping the confines of the very situation I hate.

I used to gamble in Nevada, but I've overcome it, and that's the only big addiction I've had. I would drive or fly a plane to Wendover or Vegas all the time and was addicted to Blackjack. I wish so much I would have never started gambling. It cost me a ton of money and has caused me problems and sadness of every kind. I once met Aaron Eckhart on the high roller tables in Vegas and told him to be loyal to his faith. He said if actions were as easy as words he would be. I try not to break the Sabbath, but I do buy food on Sundays because I don't know how to cook. Maybe I'm a hypocrite. I'm the kind of guy who walks into Walmart on a Sunday night and looks around in dismay at all the Sabbath breakers who are wandering the store, and wonder how dare they be there.

I want to have a wife and a family. I want to be better. I want to provide for and help people I love - and as many other struggling people as I can, regardless of what they've done. I care deeply about struggling people, and hold in high contempt those who attempt to attack people trying to make it, whether that attack is physical, emotional or political. My little sister is going to USU. She thinks I've become disassociated and too cynical. To show her I'm nice and I love her, I gave her my credit-card and told her to use whenever she wanted. She said she wouldn't, even in an emergency, but I told her she better. I look at my statements each month, and she has never used my credit-card even once. If she started blowing a lot of money with it, I would be happier because I would feel like my money is benefiting someone I love, but she won't spend any of it, so I sit at home and watch the news wondering what's becoming of me.

What's the Solution to All This?

I wish someone would tell me. For now, it seems to be to just keep going.



Sunday, September 11, 2011

What I Learned in Church Today: Switch Points

Today's Sunday School Lesson material focused on 1 Corinthians 11-15. In these chapters, Paul addresses the Saints in Corinth regarding his concern that they are straying from some of the pure doctrines of Christ.

The lesson began with an excerpt from a 1972 address given by then, Elder Gordon B. Hinckley:
“Many years ago I worked in the head office of one of our railroads. One day I received
a telephone call from my counterpart in Newark, New Jersey, who said that a passenger
train had arrived without its baggage car. The patrons were angry.

“We discovered that the train had been properly made up in Oakland, California, and
properly delivered to St. Louis, from which station it was to be carried to its destination
on the east coast. But in the St. Louis yards, a thoughtless switchman had moved a
piece of steel just three inches. That piece of steel was a switch point, and the car that
should have been in Newark, New Jersey, was in New Orleans, Louisiana, thirteen
hundred miles away”
With this concept in mind, we discussed the doctrine in 1 Corinthians and then considered how a seemingly small change might have a significant effect on where we might find ourselves in relationships to doctrine. These "switch points" can be an event, decision, new knowledge, or any change that can shift the direction of our beliefs and life. Switch points can be negative if they lead us from the truth, or positive if they put us back on the right track.

As I pondered on "switch points" in my life, I could not help but to immediately consider the impact of September 11, 2001 on my life and on my relationship with God.

Prophet Thomas S. Monson submitted an Op-Ed piece to The Washington Times which was printed this week here. My memories of that time ten years ago are best described in the following excerpt from that piece:
"There was, as many have noted, a remarkable surge of faith following the tragedy. People across the United States rediscovered the need for God and turned to Him for solace and understanding. Comfortable times were shattered. We felt the great unsteadiness of life and reached for the great steadiness of our Father in Heaven. And, as ever, we found it. Americans of all faiths came together in a remarkable way."
As I watched breathlessly to the news reports, I felt compelled to DO something. But I was in Utah so far from any place that could use my assistance. As a result I DID the only thing I could think of...I dropped to my knees in prayer over and over and over. Up until that point, my approach to prayer had been much less formal. I would tend to kneel for a groggy morning prayer, but most of my petitions were sent as I busily prepared for the day or later as I commuted in my car. I had never been a diligent kneeler. There was something about the act of humbly kneeling that brought some kind of satisfaction in those first hours and days. I felt like I was DOING something.

9/11 has been a "switch point" for me in regards to my approach to prayer. I find that the act of kneeling in prayer helps me to do so in a more humble and reverent manner. I am more inclined to be thoughtful and grateful, and less likely to be casual and demanding.

Because of the attacks on September 11, I eagerly and without apology, fall to my knees to appeal to God in both the good and the bad times. And because of the peace I was granted as I did so ten years ago, I have hope that the same peace will be granted to me even still.


The Healing Fields, Sandy UT, 9/11/11

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Do You Know What's Grosser Than Gross???

It was the name of a childhood game. Someone would suggest something gross and we would all reply, "GROSS!" And then some a creative kid would offer up, "Do you know what's grosser than gross?", and they would suggest something slightly grosser than the first kid's idea. And the game would continue like that until we ran out of gross ideas or until we were laughing so hard we were crying...whichever came first. And we totally thought we were champions...but we were so wrong!

The guys at Epic Meal Time on YouTube have put my childhood friends to shame with their ability to grosser than gross themselves at least a dozen times in under 6 minutes! The only redeeming factor, they're Canadian, so it just makes it funny somehow!

****Warning!**** This is not for the weak of heart, stomach, imagination, gag reflex...etc!

Friday, September 9, 2011

Putting Yourself Out There

As a single woman, I'm often told by married observers that it's really important to be "Putting yourself out there". It seems like such hollow advice, especially when I challenge the advice with a follow-up such as, "What exactly do you recommend I do, that I'm not already doing?", and they give me nothing.

But I do understand the sentiment. I can see how easily an old maid becomes an old maid...one Redbox weekend at a time. Which is why one of my 2011 goals is to only spend one weekend night a month in. I know that it's important to stay socially connected an active, even if it means another GNO or having to do all of the planning to make it happen.

But, there is a price that is paid. There's that solitary drive home at the end of the night, when you have to face the fact that your weekends are becoming "Groundhog Day" in nature and you've managed to attend another party at the same place with the same people exchanging pleasantries with the same men who have already rejected you before...well, it's a heavy price to pay. And tonight as we handed $250 cash to the tow-truck driver who was releasing Sassy's car, it seemed like staying social at this age might be well outside our budget.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Favorite Thing


With the threat of Diet Coke and chocolate abstinence hanging over my future, I've been looking for new vices to glom on to. This dressing is candidate #1 to fill the void. My Aunt Janet introduced this to me a few weeks ago and I've been searching for it ever since. If you can find it, you should buy as much as you can. It's still hard to come by in these parts...in fact, I've yet to find it!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Massage

The first time I ever had a professional massage, I started to cry half-way through it. I wasn't sad or upset, I just felt overcome by too much emotion. I was embarrassed, but the therapist said it isn't unusual. That our muscles have emotional memory and that massage can release those all at once. After 30 minutes of me unable to get control of the tears, he made this observation, "You must not get touched much."

It's true. I guess it's the price you pay for chastity.

His observation reminded me of a story I'd heard when I was young about an entire building of Romanian orphans who died from lack of physical touch, (well maybe not an entire building, but entirely too many orphans!). I decided in that moment that I would do what I could to prevent myself from literally dying from loneliness by engaging in massage as often as I could.

Today, I could and I did. It was a new girl but I was quickly impressed! She seemed to have found that sweet, sweet spot between relaxation and therapeutic that makes me believe the time is productive while not causing me to sharply inhale quite so often. Until the end, when I was face up and she was working my shoulders and neck...it was...spoiled.

I grew up in the wide open spaces of Colorado, surrounded by fresh suburban air! My parents didn't smoke and I can't really remember spending much time at friends' whose parents did. I attended a non-smoking University and just about the time I was entering the "real" world, Clean Air Acts around the nation were passed. So, I guess I'm a little sensitive.

The smell of fresh tobacco doesn't bother me so much. But the smell on the breath of someone who has smoked for years and has now taken great measures to cover it up prior to breathing on your face...well, that is a smell I just can't get used to.

I hope I can find someone who has her sweet skills but not her nicotine addiction. I realize my nose is wimpy because I think I'd rather die from loneliness then try to endure that scenario again.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

My Day Got an Upgrade

I had a rotten doctor's appointment this morning and had been feeling like a sad little victim all day...but then tonight I came home to the most beautiful arrangement of flowers! And I immediately stopped feeling sorry for myself in exchange for feeling very, very loved.

My Aunt Shirley has always had a gift for putting an instant smile on my face...even from thousands of miles away!

I love her and I love that she loves me too!

(This iPhone shot does not do this cheerful arrangement justice...just trust me, they're awesome!)

Monday, September 5, 2011

Life Imitating Art

The Husband was telling me a story about being leashed at Disneyland as a child. I thought it was hilarious, mostly because my favorite SNL comedy sketch of all time is this one:
Philip and Grace

And then I remembered a great story about when my life took an SNL sketch turn. My brother John was graduating from High School and in Denver the ceremony takes place on a Sunday. We had been through church, hours of High School graduation, and found ourselves back at church that evening for John's seminary graduation.

My parents and youngest brother Brett were seated in the very back of the chapel. Brett and I had hit our limit for sibling activity tolerance and were feeling punchy for sure. Brett was 12...and I began to act 12. I dug into my mom's purse and pulled out a mirror and a bright fuchsia, mom-shade of lipstick, then proceeded to give myself the most perfect and horrific kissy lips. We had a little laugh and then turned our attention back to the front of the room.

A few minutes later, we were slouched in our seats with arms folded and hands tucked under our armpits. I realized the hilarity of my posture and had a flashback to this:
Mary Katherine Gallagher

So I nudged Brett, and said in a whisper, "Sometimes when I get bored, I stick my fingers under my arms, and I smell 'em like this."....and then I dragged my hands up my face....totally having forgotten about the mom-pink lipstick I'd put on just a few minutes before! I had awful pink skid marks all up my face!

Brett cracked up, and horror spread across my face as I quickly realized what I had done! I ran to the little girls' room as fast as I could! But there is no brand of restroom soap that can scrub that mom-quality lipstick off of a face! I needed professionally quality remover and I was just going to have to wear the shame of my sense of humor on my face until I got home!

Sunday, September 4, 2011

What I Learned in Church Today: Trust in the Spirit

1 Corinthians 2:14 "But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned."
This verse was read today during a discussion regarding trusting the Spirit to guide us in our lives. A man posed the question, "How do you know the difference between a prompting from the Spirit verses an internally generated thought?"

I have asked myself the same question before. Not because I'm torn between good and evil promptings and can't tell them apart, but because so many times I have followed what I thought was a spiritual prompting, only to find myself being redirected later. Those moments have caused a lot of frustration and self doubt. Fortunately, I was taught a great concept years ago in regards to this phenomena and I was happy to be reminded today:

Sometimes, because of our limited vision, the Lord can only give us a little direction at a time. From his grand perspective, he can see that we are being guided to the right place, but instead of sending a MapQuest of instruction, he simply says, "Go straight". And we go straight. However, at some point on that straight road, he might say, "Turn left", or "Idle here", or "Make a U-Turn".

These are the moments when in frustration, I pout and retort, "But you said to go straight, and I am going straight! What's with the change?!" I forget that my vision is limited and that He can see the big picture for me. And then I am humbly reminded of the many times the Spirit has led me to where I want to be, one direction at a time, when I have been willing to let him.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

I Called 9-1-1

The first time I called 9-1-1 it wasn't necessarily well received, remember here? At least the operators were polite to me this time.

So, Sassy and I were headed to the SLC Farmer's Market travelling north on I-15 and we saw a young boy, maybe 12 or 13 years old walking southbound on the side of the freeway, along the barricade. I hesitated once, then twice, then once it was clear that there were no on-ramps or vehicles nearby, I dialed the three numbers.

That's suspicious and concerning right? What in the world could this kid be doing there? He was at the very least temporarily confused and at the worst, he may have been unwell. Whatever his story, I felt some satisfaction that I didn't just pass this by and allow something crazy to happen.

Of course now, I'm dying to know the rest of the story. Did the cops find him? Did the cops find him safe? Were they able to help the kid out and prevent anything from happening to him? I guess I'll never know.

Friday, September 2, 2011

I Wish...

...that I had the motivation to have fresh bed-sheets on my bed every evening. Fortunately, the fact that the idea is complete absurd, means that I don't have to feel badly that I don't.

The window is cracked open for the night, the sheets are fresh, my bed is amazing, I'm getting sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Two Week Countdown

(Posted to Facebook notes 9/1/2001)

There are a lot of funny (not funny ha-ha, but funny odd) things I've learned being sick. Here are two:

1.) Being sick, I crave and appreciate messages of support and well-wishes...even though I sometimes can't bring myself to put together a response of any kind, let alone a response that communicates enough gratitude. I owe a proper thank you to many people.

2.) The second thing I've learned, is that it's really hard to keep track of who, and in what forum, I have properly updated friends and family. I feel like I'm talking about myself all of the time. At church on Sunday I avoided many conversations because I was certain that my poor roommate had heard it all enough times and I was surely driving her crazy!

My parents were asked last night, "What's the deal with Kimi", and I realized that although I feel like I've rehearsed my update one thousand times, I hadn't posted anything new to Facebook. So, here it is:

I have had the Cardiac MRI and have met with the infamous Dr. Chun Hwang. It is clear that I need to have Cardiac Ablation (catheters are inserted into my heart, and areas that are causing the abnormal rhythm are burned) (p.s. I know it sounds absolutely crazy, and you might be thinking that I'm confused or making this up, but it is for real and there is a very high success rate...for about 10 years).

My procedure is scheduled for September 15 with Dr. Hwang (a huge blessing). As it is considered an exploratory procedure, it can take anywhere from 4 to 6 hours. During that time, in addition tho the Ablation, my doctor will perform a number of tests to assess the full condition and health of my heart. I am hopeful that he will be able to address all concerns at that time, but there is a chance that he may find something that will need to be treated at another time. I will stay one night in the hospital for observation following the procedure.

I am very much looking forward to no longer feeling my heart slam around in my chest, but I have been prepped that the first days following are slow moving, and I will need to be very careful with the catheter insertion spots (groin and neck) and that I may feel some significant discomfort in my chest...ya know, cause they're gonna burn up my heart!

But it should only be a few weeks until I'm feeling freaking fantastic. Feeling better than I have felt in a really long time in fact! And with this delayed summer, I'm hoping to get at least one more tennis game in before Salt Lake City turns arctic for the year.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Damsel in Distress

I've been pretty dang independent for as far back as I can remember. And that has come in very handy in all my single living. So helpful, that I pride myself on the fact that if I don't know how, I'll certainly be able to figure it out. I've even changed all of my own flat tires (some in the presence of men, in fact!).

....so it has always bothered me a bit when I'm coached to "need" a man more in my life. I've been told by friends, family, and all of my relationship books that men "need" to be "needed". There are even dozens of web pages dedicated to the topic. But from where I stand, I would think that it would be more flattering to a man to know that he wasn't needed, but wanted. It's certainly desire #1 for me!

So at least I'm aware of the discrepancy. And although I fail, more than I succeed in the effort of making the men in my life feel needed, I'm improving on recognizing those moments.

So...what's the point? Just a week or so before the A-Fib diagnosis, I met this really great guy. He is handsome and talented and charismatic and he seemed to recognize a few things in me that he liked. Right off the bat he was really great about the txting and IM-ing and I was having fun with the attention.

The day of the diagnosis, I went straight to the pool to talk it out with Sassy. As we were chatting, I got a txt from the new guy: "how r u"...I groaned in response. I was crap! And the last thing I wanted to tell Mr. Popular was that I just found out that my body was even more disappointing than I already knew! But Sassy had a decent suggestion...I hadn't built anything solid with this guy yet, maybe he would be a perfect candidate for me to play needy.

So I told him that I had a pretty rough day and got some bad news from the doctor. He told me that he wanted to do something for me, anything at all. So I told him that I needed distractions. I knew that there was going to be a lot of waiting around in my near future, and distractions were going to be the best gift I could receive from anyone.

And he kept popping back up every few days with the same offer, "what can i do?" And I kept telling him to stop by, or invite me along for an adventure. Finally I decided that perhaps my request was too vague...so I got specific: "I'd love a Slurpee". It seemed quick and cheap and as non-threatening as I could come up with. And...nothing.

It's been nearly two months, and I still hear from him every day, but I've long since given up on submitting requests. In fact, sometimes he's just flat out ignored.

I totally get that there are a million holes in this scenario (we don't have anything committed going on, my request is weak on the "needy" scale, etc.) but I don't know if I'll ever figure out how to be truly "needy" in a sincere and effective way.

The highlight? The Russian was in town last week and I was emotionally dumping on him about every disappointment in my life. I was venting that there were no interesting romantic prospects in my life and shared that I wasn't even able to get a man to bring me a Slurpee! But in today's mail, there was a letter from The Russian...and inside were 3 one dollar bills designated for a Slurpee! He couldn't take me, but it made me feel like a million bucks to know that he would.

I might not know how to intentionally make a man feel "needed", but I am reminded that I have some pretty key people in my life that I will always "need".