Lady Day and a Bucket of Heartbreak

At this moment in my life I think romantic love is really stupid. It makes me do ridiculous things. It makes me want ridiculous things. It makes me believe ridiculous things. And I'm rather tired of feeling it and being wrong. My Momma is a wise soul, and told me that love is a choice. She's right. I chose it. And now it won't go away--despite having good reason to.

Sing it, Lady Day.

I love this woman. She has the perfect song for EVERYTHING. If I could only listen to one musician for the rest of my life, it would be her.

Okay, I have to post this as well. Just sink into this one. Don't close your eyes. Watch each of them carefully. It's one of those rare recordings where you can experience the artist's emotions just by looking in their eyes and savoring each note. I can't explain it. It's just raw. Opening a soul and putting it out for everyone else to see--the pain, the blues, the heartache. Oh, gosh. I could live off of this stuff.

It's sensitive subject time.

It's sensitive subject time.

I think God loves everyone. God wants us to live devoid of prejudice, in full equality. God gives each person trials that test their willingness to obey Him, and are meant to increase the faith and ability of that person. I believe that God's commandments will never change, as he is an unchangeable being. I believe that there is only one way to true happiness.

Believing all of this, and I mean all of it, I have a lot of difficulty deciding how the Mormon doctrine on gays (that I have found) fits into these other beliefs.

To me, denying gays a legal marriage contract is unfair, unequal, and prejudice. However, I would also be offended and outraged if equality laws forced the church to allow gays a temple marriage.

I will be the first to acknowledge that sexual orientation is not a choice, but an integral part of who we are. I also believe that it is possible to repress this identity, and that being gay is part of the 'natural man' that we are commanded to overcome.

I have not seen any healthy, effective change that has caused a gay to become straight. But neither do I think that God gives anyone temptation above that he is able (1 Corinthians 10:13). This is a trial I do not fully understand. It appears to be impossible to overcome. It seems inhumane to expect someone to overcome it and then deny them blessings because of its impossible nature.

When it comes to telling other people who they may and may not love, who they may and may not be committed to, it just feels wrong. The only way I would be okay with that is if the exhibited love was fake, and did not bring real happiness. Again, I have a hard time believing that those in homosexual relationships who desire to be committed to each other are faking love. They have loving, caring relationships. Gay couples are also effective, sensitive parents. But, for some reason I don't understand, God does not accept that kind of love.

So, I don't understand how all of these things, which I truly believe, can coexist and fit together in my mind. I am very conflicted. I love and adore the friends and acquaintances I have that are gay. I love and adore those of them who are repressing those urges, who are acting on those urges, and who will struggle their entire lives with this trial. I love them. I want them to be happy. I believe that God knows each and every person who was, who is, and who will be gay. He knows how to deal with this impossible trial they have been blessed with.

I would encourage those who are having a difficult time being gay to turn to God and ignore the hate and ignorance of the rest of the world. This is your struggle. None of the rest of us truly understand it. You are good, good people. You need to know that. And I truly apologize if this post offended you in any way. It is simply what I believe, and I needed to write this so I could figure out exactly what I think on the subject.

This might solicit comments. I'm asking that you don't argue with me or each other, but I am more than happy to hear your views on the subject. It might help me figure out mine a little more.

Thanks, peeps.

Creative title? I don't got one.

Hey there folks. I am not dead! Whoop! I survived today. I did almost get sick at therapy, but I survived. It turned out to be just fine. There is now another girl in the group, which was really nice. She barely talked at all. She must have been freaking out. But she came! And she's coming back next week! Hopefully we can be friends. I like friends.

I have to put in a plug for the band The Lumineers. They are amazing. I have been listening to their CD on repeat for the past couple of days. Here is one of their songs (Flowers in Your Hair) :

Pretty much amazing.

Aaaaand tomorrow is Friday. This week went by really, really fast. This has been a really strange week. I've been happy and sad and all over the place, wishing and wanting and failing and trying over and over and over. I'll do better next week. I do get to go home this weekend, though, and see my family. I think it's been a couple of months since I was last home 0.o  I miss them after a while. Lots can happen in two months.

Today is the very last day of February. Tomorrow is March. And do you know what March means? MARCH MEANS ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!! MY FAVORITE HOLIDAY EVER!!!! *cough*

Sorry, I feel like I'm rambling and don't actually have anything to say. Y'alls are stellar. Bye.

I'll Take Death By Velociraptor, Please

How do I feel about tomorrow and the coming week:

TERRIFIED

I am so scared. Therapy again tomorrow. Our task for the session is to write out the history of our problem and share it with the group. If I hadn't already committed to going every week I would chicken out of this one. I don't want to tell people! Heck, I don't like to think about it myself! What is said cannot be taken back, and they will judge me and I hate being judged. I like people to think that I am at least a half-way decent person. I'm not in real life, but it would be nice if people thought that. So. Talking about that with a bunch of men tomorrow.

Ha ha. That sounded super awkward. And I know I've not told you what my problem is, but, quite frankly, you don't need to know. And you don't want to either. I like that there are some people out there who think I'm nice. 

On another sour note, I am doing so wretchedly in school it makes me want to vomit. I have a final for BoM next week, and even if I get 100% on it, I'll only get 84% in the class. Disgusting. I really, really hate myself sometimes. I need to cop on and do my flipping schoolwork, put forth the effort that is expected of a BYU student, and use my brain like I used to be able to. If I ever make it out of here alive, I darn well hope it was all worth it. And that I deserve it.

Life. Lifelifelifelifelife. Death by velociraptor sounds really good right about now. Or perhaps I could just turn into a velociraptor. The go straight to heaven, right? Sweet. Velociraptor it is.

I am trying to scrounge my brain for something happy to talk about. Um, the sun was shining today? That was nice. I ate lots of cookies. That was kind of happy. I'm listening to Death Cab for Cutie and remembering last summer. I listened to the "Plans" album while I drove to and from work at Thanksgiving Point. Gosh, that was so nice. Just being able to drive about with excellent music and the warmth from outside. Memories. I love the stuff. Right. That's about the happiest I can get right now.

Oh, and, Dean? This is me reciprocating. Because being mentioned in someone else's blog is pretty much the greatest thing ever. You have a fabulous morning/day/evening/night/whatever it is when you read this :)

Short Post

T'will be a short post.

Did you see my status about being hungry and tired? Well, I have the greatest roommate ever, because she generously donated minestrone soup and a slice of cake to the Feed Danie Foundation. THOSE ARE TWO OF MY FAVORITE FOODS. Jamie. Is. The. Greatest. And her mom makes fabulous soup.

Secondly, update on the best bunny on the face of the planet--she appears to be doing quite well :)

(This is my very first upload to youtube...whoot whoot! Thanks momma for the vid.)

Also, this was a really crappy weekend. Horribly so. It is my goal to make this week better than this weekend by going to class, doing my homework before netflix, and cancelling my netflix account like I should have a looong time ago.

I love you all!

Attending Class, Group Therapy, and Paralyzed Rabbits

So I was going to go to bed....and then I was going to do dishes....and then I was going to take a bath....and then I was going to stop eating chocolate covered caramels. But, looky here. I'm writing a blog post. Really late at night. 'Cause sometimes I do that.

I am rather proud of myself--if I go to both of my classes tomorrow, I will have gone to class every day this week. That will be a semester accomplishment. I know, I should be going to every class every single day, but it has been a real struggle this semester. Just counting the small victories over here, hoping one day I'll progress to some big ones.

I went to my first group therapy session today, and let me tell you, it was flippin' scary. Talking about my issues in a group full of people I don't know or trust? Freeeaaaaky. But it actually turned out to be a good thing, even though we were basically told that everything we were trying to do to combat our problems was no use, and they didn't bother to give us any solutions, just a lot of metaphors. Knowing that there are more people struggling with the same thing is helpful, I suppose. And they were nice people, too. A little strange, but who isn't? I know some people think that therapy is a really wussy way to dump your problems on someone else and avoid sorting them out yourself, but it takes an amazing amount of courage to go. I'm not joking. I almost made myself physically sick waiting for everyone else to turn up for the session (because, of course, I was so early I was the first to show up and got to sit there, anxiety-ridden, hoping I was in the right place). Anyway. Therapy. Good stuff.

In other news, the family rabbit became paralyzed after running into a rubbish bin. Poor Skippy. If you are morally opposed to praying for rabbits to get better, don't feel obligated to, but otherwise...it'd be great. She really is the best bunny ever. And I think I've dealt with all the death and unhappiness I can handle for one week.

I feel kind of bad, because this is just another post talking about my rather uninteresting life. And you were lovely enough to spend a few minutes of your own life reading it. Do I need to give you a profound thought so it's worth your while? Okay. Lemme find one. How about a poem?! Here it goes:

First Fig

My candle burns at both ends;
   It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes and oh, my friends--
   It gives a lovely light.

     --Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)--

And interpret that as you wish! Goodnight to all!

This One's For Carmody

You died today, Carmody. You really did. Up and left us when I was so convinced you were going to get better. I feel like it was partially my fault. The bishopric asked us to fast for you, but I didn't. I forgot and I ate and I didn't try again. They asked us to go to the temple for you, but I can't go to the temple, Carmody. Not yet, not until I sort out all of my problems. The day before you went to the hospital I saw you crouched in the sunlight outside of our building. I asked you what was wrong. You said nothing, but you looked sad, so I double checked. Again you said you were fine. And that was the last conversation we had. I shouldn't have worried so much about catching the shuttle. I should have given you that hug I was debating whether or not to give you. If anyone deserved a hug it was you. I didn't even know you that well. We weren't best friends. But we were friends.

I was so naive. I was so, so sure that God would never take you back. But I know why he'd want his Carmody back. Your sweetness filled every crevice, every crack in a sad heart. Your kindness made us all feel safe and welcome. Your laughter was the medicine for every sickness. Perhaps the angels were getting lonely without you.

Do you want to know my favorite memory of you? It was that night that Jamie and I got locked into our apartment. Our door was always really stupid, but this time it just wouldn't open. You happened to be outside, so we called you over through the window and you climbed right in and had a go at it. It wouldn't budge, but we laughed and laughed and laughed like being stuck in an apartment was the funniest thing that ever happened to anyone. And then Mike came and tried it, and it still wouldn't move. Eventually we called the police, and they called the little Asian locksmith, who was sleeping at the time. You were there with us as we waited for her to show up with her toolkit and change out the doorknobs. You were there with us when we found that the door opened if we shifted it a certain way. You were there as we told and retold the story to each other, knowing full well that we'd already recounted it three times--but we were in hysterics. It was wonderful. A broken old door blessed us with a memory and a few laughs.

And now I'm sitting here in that same apartment, the door to my left and the window right in front of me. And where are you, Carmody? You're up there with all of those lonely angels, making them laugh. Mending their hearts. And you're down here somewhere, too, with all of these lonely angels. Mending our hearts, whispering to us that you're just a memory away. Be safe up there. Don't ever cry, because the other angels need your happiness. I know that you know how much we all love you, Carmody, and I'm sorry I didn't show how much I loved you while you were alive. But thank you for the cleaning checks and the building meetings and the laughter and the memories and the service and the love. You are wonderful :)