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8/30/09

the kind of Mormon I am (a thought for Sunday)

Sometimes, non-Mormon people are surprised I am Mormon.

Because I am very, very, liberal. Because of the way I occasionally dress.(But you don't dress like a Mormon!) Because I have a penchant for the irreverent, occasionally.


I decided to tell them, That is just the kind of Mormon I am.

Sometimes, Mormon people are surprised I am Mormon.

Because I am very, very, liberal. Because of the way I occasionally dress (Mormons can wear all black.) Because I have a penchant for the irreverent, occasionally.


That is just the kind of Mormon I am.

Sometimes, I am surprised I am still Mormon.

But only because I am very, very, liberal, and irreverent.

And because sometimes, something happens. Sometimes I am reminded of something, in my Church, (but not within my doctrine, mind you,) that strikes me as not quite right.

If you know me, you might know what those things are, those things that tug at my soul, and force me to ask myself Why am I in this Church?

Because things change. Oftentimes, it is my heart that changes. That softens. And I am at peace with God. And his Doctrine. And his Church.

But sometimes the church changes. (Again, not the doctrine, but the church.)

Don't believe me?

The Women were organized, and thus the Church was fully organized.

African Americans were granted the Priesthood.

Girls in The Strength of Youth are no longer warned against the perils of wearing hair-rollers at the grocery store. Now we are warned about the perils of the internet.

I change. The Church changes. The World Changes. We change.

But the doctrine does not. The good news stays the same, and perfect. But if the doctrine is perfect, why isn't the Church?

Because it is run by humans. And even the divinely inspired are still human. I imagine that we do a lot of things right.

But I also imagine that when everyone is in heaven, and God reviews our progress, it will be a lot like when my earthly father reviews the less-than-perfect work of one of his children. Look, I love you to death, but..............

But you didn't get that one part right.


So things change. And whenever I feel frustrated, I am reminded, with a still and quiet voice. Wait. Things Change.

And I want to be there when it happens.


That is just the kind of Mormon I am.

8/29/09

what i think about whilst quite gloomy on a saturday night.

WARNING: GRUMPINESS AHEAD. DANGER WILL ROBINSON. DANGER.


-Spousetotheman is hanging out with his boyfriend before said boyfriend and wife move to California. I stayed for the food, then left them to gaze into each other's eyes and speak computer language, which consists of lots of the number 1 and the number 0 and more acronyms than an education program. (NCLB, IDEA, MAT, MED, IEP, SPED....) Before I left, Spouse turned to me and said, misty eyed, Derekis so smart. I wish I was as smart as Derek. Get a room, Spouseman, get a room. *

-I am tired of talking to HR people in districts who tell me that LAST year they had tons and tons of English and History teaching positions. TONS. Where was I last year? Getting your Masters? Oh. Too Bad.

-Likewise, I am tired of feeling excessively humble, or downright apologetic about discussing my Grad-School Related Accomplishments. I am tired of talking about it like it is a joke so that I don't offend people. This means you, Philosophie. This means you, other, and equally insecure people. You are damn right. I am proud of my Degree.I am proud of working hard and finishing at 22. I better be proud. I'll be paying that off for a long time. And I will mention it whenever I want.

-It is very important to note right this minute that while I am proud of my accomplishment, I don't think it renders me smarter than anybody else. Or better. Or cooler. Maybe sexier, but not better. And I don't think everyone should go. Go if you want. Or not. Do something equally cool. Have a kid, Get a job, Become a nun. Whatever! Your accomplishments are equally cool and valid! We are all friends!

-But why is it that dudes can mention grad school whenever they want, and no one gets mad. Something about it being their job, you know, as providers. Or Something. Don't mind me, over here, burning my bra.


-Summer disagrees with me and makes me gloomy. I like school. I am good at school. I think, given the chance, I would be good at teaching school.

-When will I start fake teaching? Ask the fetus in the real teacher's womb. He or She is in charge of my future, little shcmuck.


-You know what will cheer me up right now? Chocolate Mousse Brownie Cake Version Two. Made with rum.


THE END.












*Dan's boyfriend doesn't make me gloomy. I too am sad at his and Desi's departure.

i don't have kids to brag about



but check out my smokin hot younger brother!

8/27/09

i'm sure it will taste delicious.

My husband asked me to go to the store and pick up a few items:


Rum,

and

Heavy Whipping Cream.


He's either baking something, or he has resorted to getting me drunk in an attempt to spice up our love life.

8/26/09

fact

I LOVE getting emails from President Barack Obama.






















even if it is a form.

8/25/09

okay, so i'm between jobs.

My summer of indentured servitude at the Cafe is over.

(And none too soon, as I was leaving, one of my co-workers staged a coup, and declared herself Assistant Manager. Under her reign, no one could leave, or close up the restaurant, until we had SOLD OUT OF FOOD.* It was only until after I quit that I found out that said "Assistant Manager" was not the manager at all. If I had found out while I was employed, I would have advised people to stay out of the walk-in freezer for a few days, at least until I had found a new place to stash the body.)


Anyway, I'm done at the Cafe, and I still have a few more days until I start Pseudo-Teaching. And since re-reading Of Mice and Men (the first novel I'm supposed to teach,) isn't taking very long, you can expect to see me haunting you in the blogosphere with astounding frequency. You've been warned.


I also felt the need to tell you that if I am ever in an accident, and rendered brain-dead, pull the plug, nab my organs, and pluck out my eyeballs for somebody else. Now the internet knows. It may not be notarized, but I've learned to never underestimate the power of the internet.

I don't know why I felt the need to tell you that, but I did.









*It's a restaurant! It is never NEVER out of food!

8/24/09

i find them bothersome.

Missionaries who argue politics. Don't you have anything better to do?




















This shouldn't surprise you. I don't like it when people who are supposed to be talking about Jesus talk about socialists.

brief weekend round up

1. Watched siblings again while parents were out of town. Lost same 14 year old brother as usual. Brother also sustained significant injury during the weekend, which is also a regular occurrence. Apparently, he is very allergic to bees. Who knew?


2. Everyone in the general Salt Lake area, go eat at The Cedars of Lebanon. Order the Patilla. Thank me later, preferably after you have brushed your teeth several times. Additionally, do not try and engage in any romantic behavior until you have brushed your teeth several times.



3. We are moving. Moving from my grandparent's basement (and my grandmother's sewing supplies,) to my father's hobbit cottage. Hopefully, move to hobbit cottage will be a temporary residence until situations with our future (and hopefully more permanent) residence are finalized. Hopefully.



How was your weekend?

8/20/09

i have learned my lesson.

At the Cafe, we give unusual customers nick-names, often inappropriate. Among these customers are a group of southern women we refer to as the "Southern Yelles."* Because not only do they pray over their food before eating, they do it loudly, in amusing Southern accents. One may argue that they yell their prayers. There is much praising of Our Lord and Jesus.

It is always awkward to serve them, because you will be refilling their water before the appetizer comes, and all of the sudden, without any warning, one of them will start pray yelling (prelling?), and reaching for each other's hands. (Which is usually how i get a fist in the stomach if I'm not careful).

Anyway, I usually pawn off the Southern Yelles on a new employee, but I got stuck with them tonight, and was sort of dreading it.

But no longer. Those crazy ice-tea addicts tipped me 55%.

God Bless the Southern Yelles. I will never make fun of you again.








*They also have another, more inappropriate name, which I had no problem with until I typed it out. Then I realized that it was super blasphemous. Funny how different things look in type.

fun fact

Should I ever have a child, I am considering naming it Alexander Henry, because I love that brand of fabric so freakin' much.




Regardless of gender.

8/19/09

Peace In Our Time!

Yes we Can! (and, Did!)

Joy to the World!

Big Brother is Watching!

And other celebratory phrases.......


Guess what internet! The Era of Big Government, ahem, I mean, The Era of Stephanie's Useless Masters Degree is OVER.............

I got a teaching job. Is it temporary, yes. Is it part-time, yes. But what the hell! Pseudo job is better than no job, and a hell of a lot better than waitressing.

I'm so excited to start TEACHING 15 year olds, instead of simply ordering them to buss my table.

I'm teaching 10th Grade English at a High School near you. By any luck, by the time the real teacher comes back from extended leave, I'll have transformed her students into socialist liberals who love black people! *


Hurray!











*I'm totally kidding. Seriously. My goals are much more simple. Basic understanding of whatever novel I'm teaching, and knowing the difference between a simile** and a metaphor is all I need to feel I've done my job. So calm down, Republicans.



**yep, that was mispelled before, judge me please.

some people have no shame.

Like the crazy eclair lady. *Remember crazy eclair lady? Who threw eclairs at my head at work?



Today, she returned. In big I'm-trying-to-go-incognito-by-wearing-huge-sunglasses-inside. Acting like she hadn't chucked eclairs at my head.


Apparently, she wanted eclairs again. Good thing we were out. I would have had to apply for hazard pay.



I've actually had this happen several times. Crazy customers who do clusterfluck things, then come back acting like nothing happened. Acting like the staff is too stupid to remember the people who leave nasty notes on the napkins, to fail to tip, or throw french pastries at our heads.

We remember you. And oh-AAAAAAHHHHCHOOOO. My goodness. I just had to sneeze. All over your food. Excuse me. Just Kidding. Sort of.











*purple items are links. in honor of dad

8/17/09

bits and pieces.........

Sometimes people ask me questions, and I never get around to answering them. So here, in no particular order, is a list of answers to questions/situations. Look closely, maybe I'll answer something you asked.


1. How did I resolve the graduation quandary? Well people, I wanted a picture of me in my awesome I-Have-A-Masters-Degree-So-I-Am-Better-Than-You robes so badly that I actually showed up to my graduation ceremony. I put on my hood. I took a bunch of pictures. Then I left. Mission Psych Out Westminster Accomplished.


2. What is the best way to cure hiccups? Yoga Breathing. Even though I don't do yoga.



3. Will I ever drive a mini-van? Why the hell not? If I am lucky enough to have enough kids to need a mini-van, and the resources to even by one, sure, I will drive one. It beats a gas guzzling Escalade every day. I sort of hate people who are snobs about stupid things. (Unless it is a stupid thing I am a snob about, then it is fine, of course.) Want to know what I think is a waste of time, snobbery wise? I will tell you.

SNOBBY THINGS NOT WORTH BEING SNOBBY ABOUT.

1. Going out of state for college. You went out of state? Good for you. I don't care. But if you get up in my grill about how the fact that I both saved money and got to go to an awesome in-state school, I will cut you. Or make fun of you on the internet. Whatever.

2. Geographically snottiness of any sort. I hate people who hate on Utah, because all places have their share of good and bad, and in the swing of things, I think Utah is all right. On the other hand, I hate it when people refer to out-of-Utah as "The Mission Field" or won't live anywhere outside Utah because a Non-Mormon majority is just too evil. Geographical Snobs? We are not friends.

3. Car Snobs. Mini-Vans. A Cheap and Safe Way To Haul Around Kids. I like cheap and safe. People who don't are silly.


INSTANCES OF SNOBBERY THAT ARE OKAY BY ME.

1. As previously discussed, hot, liberal, sexy, intellectual elitism. Take me now, Toby.

2. My awesome robes at graduation. Did I mention my hood was a bright aquamarine color, with some purple thrown in for good measure? My father was thrilled.

3. People who recognize the superiority of sewing over all other forms of crafting.


The end.

8/16/09

perspective

Sometimes when I get to feeling down about my (nearly over) Summer of Serving at The Worst Restaurant Ever, I watch Gilmore Girls, and I realize my situation could have been a lot worse.

For instance, I could have been Lane Kim, who had to be a server after finding out she was pregnant with honeymoon twins.

Perspective is a beautiful thing.








ps. a few people, (including e-friend Ace) have expressed concern that my bashing of my place of employment will get me fired. I am touched by the concern, but let us remember that I do a job 15 year olds could do. (Did I ever mention that one of the bussers is a former student?) Should I get fired the results will:

a. not go on a resume, nor do I ever intend to use anyone from this establishment as a reference.

b. start my weekend that much earlier, since I have only 4 days left before I quit and go back to my real life of working in schools with hormonal teenagers. And, YES THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD.

Also, I refuse to wear a name tag with my actual name. I do not wear the required "uniform." I am often late. I vocally and frequently disagree with my superiors. I refuse to work on days/shifts for no logical reason. The fact that I am not already fired is a miracle, and a testament to how truly lousy work conditions are.

So fear not, gentle readers. Fear not.

8/14/09

a day in the life

Spouse: "So the job is totally awesome, I'd be helping kids who are having trouble in high school, like kids who have bad attendance or just don't go."

(Pause.)

"Kind of like you."

(Pause.)

"And some of them have drug problems."

(Pause. Realization where this might be going. Look of horror.)

"Which is totally not like you."

Child Bride: (Mentally.)

"That is what you think."


In other news, parts of me that never saw sun saw sun last week, and are now peeling at an alarming rate. What? I don't even get a tan with my melanoma? Damn.

8/13/09

hi guys

Hello everybody.

I feel like I haven't posted in forever. Just the usual laziness, you presume? Nope. I've been on vacation. The Spouse surprised me with a trip to Cabo San Lucas, so that I could turn the ripe old age of 23 in style. (Which I did, yesterday.) And yes, it was pretty darn romantic, thank you for asking. He is a good spouse, that Spouseman. (In general, not because of the trip. Although, upon further examination, anybody who takes me to a place that serves chicken nuggets and fruit tarts at all hours as I lounge on the beach, is probably okay by me.)

I'd give you a play by play of my trip, including headers like "Day 1" and "Cabo Trip, Part III" and maybe I'd even include photos of myself in various states of undress, but this isn't that kind of blog. I will however, in the off chance you are interested, offer you the highlights.

1. Whenever I travel to a place with an even remotely tropical climate, I am always the whitest person there. My legs glow. People need sunglasses to look at my back. I would suggest that I am the Whitest Person In the World, but I have a., seen photos of Nicole Kidman, and b., been to England. However, if Nicole Kidman and I ever were to go to Mexico together, well, we would probably blind the entire native population.

2. I brought 7 books (best to be prepared,) and finished 5 of them. A more detailed report to come someday, but let me just say that it is high time an LDS person learned to write adolescent literature that is articulate, devoid of stereotypical extremes, and meaningful. We are a smart bunch of people! I'm sure we can figure it out. The author of one of my books did not.

3. I can now fully endorse Lands End as the best swimsuit to be wearing when you are being thrashed about by very big waves. Everything stayed put. Except for once, but only Spouseman saw, so it doesn't count.


It is nice to be home.

8/6/09

woot!


kinda embarassing, totally true

I freakin' love Shakira.

8/3/09

i do tags.

See? Not all the time. But, I do. e-Friend The Red Pen (kiki) tagged me and I'm doin' it. She also tagged e-friend Katie from Scattered Starlight, and I'm gonna tell you right now, between the three of us, a lot of our answers are the same. That's why we are e-friends. (And because I'm often awkward and unsociable in real life. Heaven bless the internets.)


Anyway, here comes the taggage.


1. What is your current obsession? Watching The West Wing and sewing shit. I know, it sounds kind of lame, but hey, I'm a fake teacher and it is summer, cut me some slack. Plus, I live in my grandma's basement (oh my gosh, I sound super lame in type,) which is like living in a free JoAnns, there is just all this fabric and sewing stuff everywhere. I can't help it. Also, like Kiki, I'm obsessed with finding a house. Preferably one that doesn't have mysterious red (blood?) stains on the walls and doesn't smell like a dead body. That's what a former and soon-to-be grad student can apparently afford.

2. What do you hate the most that everybody else seems to love? Three words: Damask. Vintage. Polaroids. I know. I know. Burn the witch.*

But just so you don't think I'm anti-trendy for the sake of being trendy, I will supplement the tag to tell you some things I like that everybody else seems to like too. Reality TV, Harry Potter, and hey, self-indulgent tags! wooooot!

3. What are you wearing today. Now? It's 12: 18 am, so I feel justified in telling you that I'm wearing a t-shirt and yoga pants. But I will also be wearing them tomorrow.

4. What's for dinner? Ask my husband.

5. What would you eat for your last meal? Everything I ever liked. Sushi would probably be up there. And oh, while we are at it, let's get the unholy trinity of things that make people with ADD hyper: artificial coloring, MSG, and caffeine (basically, Chinese food, sour patch kids, and a diet coke.) Maybe some gooey eggs on toast. I'm not a foodie. I know. I know. Re-burn the witch with the unsophisticated palette.

6. What's the last thing you bought? Diet Dr. Pepper from the gas station. I needed it. I was driving home from Orem.


7. What are you listening to right now? Gilmore Girls. I watched all my West Wing DVDs already.


8. What do you think of the person that tagged you? Kiki? She thinks my extremely awkward and inappropriate comments on her blog are funny. She doesn't know this, but we are secretly best friends. I imagine scenarios where we drink diet coke and chat about stuff and braid each other's hair, and I'm not awkward at all, and my hair isn't being Mormon....are you creeped out yet, Kiki?


9. If you could have a house, fully paid for, and totally furnished anywhere in the world, where would it be? Like Katie, I'd get myself a house in London. I could visit there/live there whenever I wanted, but the rest of the time, I would rent it out, and that rent would pay for me and Spouseman to live in Canyon Rim, where his awesome fake-family lives. But back to London. When Katie wrote, "I love London so much. I was so happy there, I felt alive and inspired and like I could conquer the world. So yeah, any place that makes me feel that good, I pretty much want to live there forever," I knew I couldn't explain my feelings any better. So I didn't.

10. What is one of your hobbies? Running a bit of a snark-fest here at Mormon Child Bride.










The ADD just kicked in. I'm finishing this later. I really will, though.














* Look, if you like these things, and are offended, you can just assume I have no style. It is a pretty accurate assumption. But seriously? Real vintage has germs, damask gives me a headache, and "artistic" (read: blurry,) polas aren't nearly as awesome as everyone thinks.