tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49418584578312715632024-03-13T14:41:29.819-06:00confessions from Taralillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.comBlogger276125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-8009726093150186752018-08-30T10:45:00.001-06:002018-08-30T10:45:19.722-06:00Oh Dear Lord, What HAVE I Done?Massive changes afoot, y'all. MASSIVE. And, of course, me being the type of person that I am, I hate them. I hate change. Ok, maybe not hate. No, yes, HATE. Even when it leads to better things, I still don't like it. I am, by nature, an anxious sort of person. I require stability, in all things, to function at my best. So, of course, fate has seen fit to force me to grow by allowing all sorts of instability into my life at random moments. Oh, you like financial stability? Well, hold please, let me take that all away and drop you into poverty. You like a stable home situation? Hang on! I'll have you move 3 times in 2 years!!! You like the stability of your career? Ha! Not enough money to live on that way! Try something new.<br />
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So. Here I am, trying something new. I don't like it. New and me, we don't get along so well. Not that I don't ever try anything new, I do, because I'm gutsy like that. :/ But, you know, I prefer to have more control over it and I prefer that it is something lovely, like a new country in Europe or a delicious new food. Not upending my entire life, which is what I have done.<br />
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Here's the thing. I love my career. It's been glorious and difficult and rewarding and frustrating and I've met some amazing people and done beautiful things. I don't want to leave it. But, things being what they are (arts and jobs traditionally held by women DON'T PAY) I have to leave it. I have a daughter (and now, a niece) to care for, besides myself, and I don't want them living with next to nothing. I want to take my daughter to Europe, but more importantly, I want to have a home for me and my girls. I want to be able to afford to pay my mortgage and fix my car and buy my kid clothes at the mall, rather than rely on hand me downs and the thrift store to clothe her. Not that I wouldn't still shop at the thrift store, because AWESOME, but, you get my drift. I want to be able to go to the doctor and not have to worry that it's going to ruin me. I want to finish getting my (terrible) teeth fixed so I don't walk around looking like an idiot. In my current career, in my current location, those things are out of my reach, so I have to change things.<br />
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But I don't WANT TO.<br />
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I love where I am at, career wise. I am <i>good</i> at my job. I mean, <i>GOOD. </i>I rarely have to look for work, it finds me. I have designers that I always want to work with, and who want to work with me. We have a relationship that makes working with them so easy. I love to make beautiful things. I love to make people look beautiful. I don't care what shape they are, I just like to make them look amazing in their costume. (Yeah, I don't really love making the ugly stuff, but sometimes it's what a character needs). <br />
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I have worked in every position in a costume shop and I love them all, though my absolute favorite is cutter/draper, which is what I have been for the longest. I started at the bottom of the ladder and worked my way all the way up, then dropped back down a rung or two to where I wanted to be. I have been a stitcher, a first hand, a jr. draper, a tailor, a craftsperson, a milliner, wardrobe, wardrobe manager, makeup artist, hair stylist, wig stylist, teacher, shop manager and, of course, cutter/draper. I have worked in community theatre, school theatre, summer stock theatre, professional theatre, opera, ballet, tv, film. All of it. And I love it. It's what I do. It's absolutely delightful to walk into a space, no matter where, and know where you belong and that you know how to do your job It's wonderful to DO the job, and do it well and watch a team and a show all come together. I know what it is like to work in a perfectly synergistic workplace and it is incredible. I know what it's like to work in one that isn't and it's hard, but you still manage to do the work. I have never, in 25 years of doing this, had a show I was in charge of not be ready by dress rehearsal. I am proud of what I've done. And now, I have to let it go.<br />
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Nursing school. That's where I'm at. Weird, I know. You would be surprised by the number of people who have done both medicine and theatre. A lot of the skills you use in theatre do translate to the medical field, particularly as a costumer. How? Let me tell you.<br />
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As a costume person, you are up close and intimate with performers in their most vulnerable state. Not only do they often strip themselves down to their souls to perform a role, but they also strip down physically. So, when you are fitting someone in a costume, you are sometimes dealing intimately with someone who is naked emotionally and physically. It's important to have their confidence, because what you do in that fitting, how you dress them, how you treat them, how they perceive YOU perceiving them, makes a difference. Nursing is similar.<br />
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As a cutter/draper, I am responsible for the flow of the build. What needs to be done first and how quickly and who should do it and are all the parts there and is it what the designer really wants and needs? Oh, I love that part. When I get a show and have the renderings and the cast and I know who my team is and how long the build is, it all just unspools in my head, and I know how to plan it out, how to structure the build, where to account for excess time in case of emergency (there is always an emergency), who to assign to what project, where fittings need to come in, all of it. And, let me tell you, when you have a good shop manager who does the scheduling and chases people and money and fabric down, it is AMAZING. It's my job to make all of the patterns, primarily for the women, cut the costumes out, instruct the stitchers on how to build them, fit the performer in them and then see that they are finished according to the designer's desires. And I do it well. As a nurse, I know all of this organizational ability will come in handy, in fact, it's very important to doing the job effectively. So, I've got some good background. Also, I love science, so there's that.<br />
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I also have a need to help people. That has bitten me in the butt, overall, I think, because I have put other people's needs and desires well ahead of my own and that has significantly impacted my earning ability. I could list a number of choices I made that benefited the other person overall, but didn't do much for me, career-wise. In hindsight, I would likely make the same choices again, because I can't bear to see people suffer when I know I can help, but it still may not have been the wisest choice and I am paying for it now. Granted, I do have close relationships that I would not have had I not done that, and I treasure those. But, yeah. Sometimes, it is better to think about oneself. Once in a while. :)<br />
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This need to help people, my ability to be empathetic, to be professional and calm in awkward or emergency circumstances and my ability to organize a team and a schedule, all these are what led me to decide on nursing. Granted, I will never be rich doing this. Yes, some nurses make quite a lot of money, but they start younger than I did and have time to build up to that. But, nursing pays well enough that I hope (fingers crossed) to make enough money to actually live well above the poverty line. To own a home, or at least, afford rent. To not stress so much about my car. To afford medical bills. To take my girls on vacation. I know, first world problems, but I live in the first world, so I'd like to do it a bit better.<br />
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So, there you go. I'm nervous as hell, not because I don't think I can do it, I know I can, but because I'm worried that the sacrifice won't be worth it. We will be living WELL below the poverty line while I am in school. I will have student loans to pay off when I get out of school. I will have to rely on other people (niece, mom, stepdad) more than I like. It's a time suck and means I don't get to be as involved with my girls as I'd like and as they are used to. So, send a prayer or two up for us. We'll need it.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-9197615885550693122017-06-07T07:56:00.002-06:002017-06-07T07:56:44.933-06:00A RescuePicture the scene. A small, slightly crowded, studio apartment in a converted garage, a loft bed, curtained below to create a closet. A large cupboard, newly painted, with a stack of doors against it, waiting to be restored to it. And self and Small Daughter sleeping peacefully on the hide-a-bed (it's too hot up in the loft bed).<br />
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I wake to a violent scuffle, with sounds of what I can only think is a suckling pig being murdered somewhere in my apartment. I am bewildered, because, why would a suckling pig be in my apartment? The cats (there are 2) are chasing something, but I don't know what, as it clearly is NOT a suckling pig. I climb from the bed and go over to the corner, they have something pinned between the desk and Small Daughter's spinning wheel, I cannot see what it is, but the sounds emanating from the corner are awful. Whatever it is manages to squeeze behind the spinning wheel and under the curtain into my closet area. I go around to the other side to see if I can get a look at what it is, but no luck. Willow has the creature under my dresser, with much screaming and banging about. I am perplexed, how do I get this thing out from under my dresser, the closet space is so cramped.<br />
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As I stand there, listening to the battle, wondering what to do, something comes HURTLING out from under the dresser, straight at me. I scramble backward out of the way, falling over the stack of cupboard doors in the process, making an almighty crash. Small Daughter pops up out of the bed like a jack in the box with a "SON OF A NUTCRACKER!" She looks at me over the top of the kitchen island as I lay on the floor in the pile of doors. "What are you doing? Did you know there's a bird in here?"<br />
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Ah. It's a bird. I haul myself to my feet, my knee seriously bruised. There is, indeed, a fat bird in the high front window, trying desperately to get out. Now what? The thing is flapping madly, emitting shrieks of fright. Ok, well, clearly I have to catch it, but I am NOT thrilled with the prospect. I begin to madly think of butterfly nets, or perhaps I can just shoo it toward the door? This is ridiculous. The cats are prowling below the window, ready to pounce at the first available moment. I chuck a sofa pillow at them, but they ignore me.<br />
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Small Daughter walks over to the door and opens it. "Get me some gloves, I'll get it." I toss her her gardening gloves from under the kitchen island and she shoves the coffee table over to the windows as she is too small to reach them from the ground. She climbs up, reaches her hands up and gently presses the bird down, folding it's wings back against it's body. It screams, making me wince, as she grasps it and climbs down. "Poor birdie", she says. "And bad kitties!" She walks calmly out the door and opens her hands and the bird immediately flies away, (thank goodness). Turning to come back in, she strips the gloves from her little hands, tosses them in the hamper and says, "Well, shall we go back to bed?" Which, she promptly does, falling quickly back to sleep. <br />
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My hero.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-86741914644769863592016-11-10T00:28:00.000-07:002016-11-10T00:30:35.766-07:00And now what?November 7th, I went to bed feeling confident and happy. We would have a woman for president, my daughter would grow up in a world where a woman could really be anything she wanted to be. And then, November 8th happened and I am...what? I don't even know what to say. I've never cried about an election before, but I shed some tears over this one. I don't think even I realized how important it was to me to have a woman in the Oval Office. As much as my disappointment at the loss of that, for now, what contributed, at least equally if not more so, was what kind of person we did vote into that office. <br />
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In the coming days, I will try to keep an open mind about his presidency and it's possible success. But, for now, I mourn. I mourn the loss of a woman in the highest office, and I mourn the level of hatred and divisiveness this man has represented. His campaign was run on hate. Hatred and disdain for women, for minorities, for immigrants, for the disabled, for LGBTQ people. This is not the America I thought I lived in. This is not the Utah I thought I lived in. But, it's our own fault, in many ways. Maybe we think that the average white, cis, straight American male needs to quit being such a baby about their loss of position, because the new social order is bringing them to the level of everyone else, and they don't like that. While it's hard to sympathize with someone who has been at the top forever and now has to join the ranks, we shouldn't have dismissed them. We did so to our detriment. <br />
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I am sick at what he represents. I am sick that good, moral people could overlook his utter disdain and nastiness towards anyone who doesn't fit his mold. I am sick that policy comes before people. I sorrow to see the real fear in the eyes of my LGBTQ friends, and my Muslim friends and my marginalized friends of every sort. I don't know what to say to my friends who have children with autism. <br />
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What do we do? I know, we need to try and unify and heal the country, but what do you do when one half of the country's "moral" values are antithetical to one's own? How do I come together with someone who thinks "gays" can be "cured" by conversion therapy? Cured of what? Loving someone you don't approve of? How do I meet someone in the middle who says healthcare is a luxury and if you can't afford it, well, sucks to be you? How do I meet someone in the middle who thinks "grabbing pussy" is ok? How do I compromise with someone who thinks the government can and worse SHOULD control what I do with my body? With someone who thinks that the needy don't deserve to be cared for? <br />
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The outcome of this election seems so antithetical to the Christian values that many in this country claim to believe in, that I cannot grasp how this happened. Except, that I can. Because it's how things have been for a long time. I thought they had gotten better than this, but I am sorry to learn they haven't.<br />
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So, I will grieve for what I thought was, and then I will find a way to compromise with people. I will find a way to meet them in the middle, to understand why they wanted this and to find our common goals. I will try to remember that most people are basically good and just want to work things out to our mutual benefit. But, I am afraid that that isn't what they want. But, I will hope that it is. And I will not accept bullying or cruelty or misogyny or sexism or xenophobia or bigotry. And I will work harder for what I believe to be right and good. And I will hope that in four years, we have figured something out and learned our lesson and move forward to where I thought we were.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-2594482644324020632016-01-09T22:09:00.000-07:002016-01-09T22:13:21.663-07:00Is This Love?I've had a hard time writing lately. Not just here on my blog, but even in my journal. All I seem to be able to do is recite a litany of events and not much else. And that is colossally boring. But, I appear to have caught a small writing bug, incited by the prodding of my gentleman companion and by some reading and thinking I've been doing.<br />
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I've been reading Outlander. I know, I know, it's a bit of cheap fiction with a huge and slightly silly fanbase, but it has some moments. Aside from the romance and action and fantasy and violence, I think the author touches on some important points, or at least touches on things that make me think about important points. The big one for me is love. I'm not specifically talking about romantic love, although that is certainly the aspect that is explored most...fervently, shall we say?..in the novels, but many different types of love. And, I've been wondering, is the kind of love she describes real? Is it possible? I know we all get our ideas of romantic love from Disney or the BBC or wherever, but where did that come from? If it doesn't exist, why do we yearn for it and want it so? Is this a good thing?<br />
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I had a difficult Christmas this year, for a variety of reasons. The primary one being that I was alone Christmas Eve and Christmas Day (most of it). I was disappointed and hurt by some events that had occurred earlier and was feeling decidedly lonely. My little daughter, having spent the entirety of Christmas Eve day with me and my family down at my dad's, had gone to her dad's house for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and the absence of loved ones, particularly one's own best loved one, makes Christmas damn depressing. I was feeling sorry for myself and considering going to bed when I got a call from my dear friend, he being somewhat worried about me. We talked for a bit about why I was upset and what I might do about it and one of the things he said was that it would get better, that I would get used to being alone and finding my own way and that it would be ok.<br />
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Now, here's the thing. I don't know that I want to. I mean, I DO, because crying in your bed from loneliness on Christmas is pathetic and I don't like it. But, on the other hand, is learning not to need the company, the love, a companion what I want to do? Would I be better off that way? Is ANYONE better off that way? Goodness knows, it's easier to be content by oneself, and for the most part, I am very content by myself. I enjoy solitude. I enjoy my own thoughts and activities. To quote another friend, I'm <i>great </i>company, for myself and others. But...is it altogether <i>good</i> to be so very emotionally self sufficient? No, that's not right. It is good to be emotionally self sufficient. I'm not sure how to say what I mean. I <i>want </i>to want companionship, but I also want to not be lonely, or,, I guess, be ok with being lonely? Don't get me wrong, I'm not laying in my bed night after night crying with loneliness. Nothing like that. And I have people I love and who love me. But, now, onto the real point of this post.<br />
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Love. The real thing. The abiding passion, as it were. Is it real? Does it exist in real life? Is it possible to find a companion for whom you would do <i>anything?</i> And who would do the same for you? Someone without whom you cannot envision yourself? I don't know. But, I think that if it is possible, you have to be a whole person, content with yourself, yet striving to grow, in order for that to happen. The only experience I can relate that kind of love to is the way I feel about my daughter. I was a whole person before she was born, but she is, literally and figuratively, part of me. Without her, I am less that myself. For her, I would do ANYTHING. My heart is utterly bound to hers and the thought of any harm coming to her rouses the deepest emotion in me. That whole cliche about rousing the mama bear is completely true and there is nothing I would not do to keep her safe. (Not a helicopter mom, though.) I wonder if this feeling of overwhelming love, protection, adoration is possible between adult partners. This "bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh" feeling, does it exist outside of the mother/child bond? I can't comment on the father/child bond, having not experienced it, and no doubt some of the difference is culturally instilled. But, does this level of fierce love come mostly from having carried and given birth to her and now from caring for her? Am I more attached to her because of the difficulty of the pregnancy and the near disaster of delivery? Because it took such an enormous sacrifice,both physically and mentally, to get her here? Can this kind of bond exist without those kinds of things?<br />
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I think it must exist, somewhere. How could we imagine it, otherwise? Why would we yearn and desire for such a deep connection with a partner if it weren't possible?<br />
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On many levels, I believe there are people who don't want that kind of connection. It's difficult. It's vulnerable. It leaves you raw. It requires so much work and sacrifice, and it has to be reciprocated. In order to have that with another adult, you would have to open yourself up completely, all defenses down. And there is an inordinate amount of trust required. Perhaps it isn't possible to trust another adult human that way. A child will break your heart, a million times, but there is a large degree of leeway for them because they are children, without the understanding of the depth to which they can wound, and without the desire to wound as deeply as they do. But, an adult can wound you deeply, purposefully, even without complete intimacy. In a deeply intimate relationship, you are handing someone a knife, showing them how to bring you to the brink of death, and then trusting them not to do it. And perhaps that is unwise.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-1176017494397161332015-10-04T21:16:00.002-06:002015-10-04T21:16:53.194-06:00Migraines and TearsI, like several people I know, am subject to migraines. They go in phases, sometimes. In a bad phase, I'll get one every week, sometimes more. In a good phase, I'll get one once a month, though rarely less than that. Migraines are evil. They affect one's life in a myriad of ways and they are invisible. I look perfectly healthy, and it's just a headache, right? Except, it's not. If you've never had a migraine, you can't know how debilitating they are. They affect your vision, your digestion, your mental capabilities and your emotional well being. I can't drive when I have a bad migraine. It's not that I can't see, it's that I can't see properly. I no longer get migraines with aura, thank goodness. When I had those, I literally <i>couldn't </i>see.<br />
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I miss an unfortunate amount of work due to migraines. Thankfully, I currently have a job with sick leave, so I don't lose money when I miss work. But, I miss work. And I <i>hate</i> that this affects my job. Because it is an invisible illness and because a headache doesn't seem like that big of a deal, it makes me look bad when I leave work or miss work due to a migraine. It makes it look like I don't have much of a work ethic, when nothing could be further from the truth. Because of this, there are days when I manage to get to work and stay there despite a migraine, but it isn't easy and I don't get a lot done.<br />
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Migraines can be socially embarrassing as well. There's nothing like collapsing on your date's floor in tears of agony when one comes on like a bullet train. Nothing like having to ask to be allowed to stay the night because driving home isn't a good option, especially when you know you are trespassing on their good will. Today, I missed my SIL's performance, one she has been working on for months, because I had a migraine. It's terrible. I wanted to go, I wanted her to know I support her and am proud of her and I couldn't do it.<br />
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Here's something I don't think a lot of people know about migraines. They can induce a profound depression. I don't know if it has to do with blood flow in the brain or the being in intense pain for a protracted amount of time or the loss of control over life or what it is, but migraines send me (and many others) into depression. We know we miss things, we know we don't perform like we should, we know we make unfair demands on our friends and family. Those things hurt. I recall one time after a particularly bad bout, I fell asleep on the chaise in my room and woke to find my little daughter (she was 3 or 4 at the time) sitting on me reading a book. She had made me a little snack of salami and cheese and bread. And I cried. I cried because I should have been the one taking care of her and I failed. And not only did I fail, she had picked up the slack for me as she could and was taking care of me.<br />
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So, there you go. I'd say, show a little compassion for those that suffer, but most of my friends do, for which I am very grateful. But, compassion or not, I still feel awful for getting them, for making unfair demands on my friends and family and for missing things I oughtn't to be missing.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-87864462566568587022015-08-02T22:04:00.002-06:002015-08-02T22:09:09.215-06:00StormyIt rained a few weeks ago. Torrential rain. Monsoon rain. It was a prodigious rain.<br />
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I'd been having a massive anxiety attack that day, and anxiety attacks make me feel very raw. In a way, they sort of reduce me to my bare bones self and all of the niceties with which civilization covers me are ripped away and I am left exposed.<br />
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There are a few...not remedies...but aids to getting through an anxiety attack for me, but they are not always convenient nor available. One of them is to crawl in bed, bury myself in blankets and pillows and calming music and wait it out. Another is running, partly because it takes a lot of energy and partly because it makes me feel like perhaps I can outpace it. A third is to be wrapped up in the tight embrace of one I trust. None of these were available to me, as I was at work, so I did what I normally do in that situation and shoved it down to be dealt with later.<br />
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Later came, and my intention was to go home, crawl in bed, bury myself and hopefully go to sleep. Anxiety is exhausting and pushing it down and trying to function properly at work is even more so. I stopped by my dear friend's house to drop some things off, planning to leave shortly thereafter. He convinced me to stay and have dinner and I knew I did need food, as I hadn't eaten properly that day. He wrapped me tightly in his arms afterwards, knowing I wasn't ok and as we talked about this and that, it slowly entered my consciousness that there was a raging storm going on outside. Finally, I got up to look.<br />
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There it was, the rain. I love rainstorms, especially thunderstorms. Especially torrential thunderstorms. They are raw and magnificent and beautiful and untamed. (I don't like tornadoes, even though they are also raw and untamed, they are massively destructive)<br />
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I stood in the doorway watching the rain come down in sheets. And the rawness I felt in me connected to the rawness I felt out there. So, I stepped out into it. It was, literally, breathtaking. The cold sting of the drops of rain, the quick, hard gusts of wind and the constantly rolling thunder stole the breath from me. I was soaked to the skin within seconds, but I did not return to the house, I stepped out further into the tumult, daring it to take me, knowing it couldn't. I wanted to join it, I wanted to be part of it, part of the chaos, part of the power. I ran out into the road, which had become a river, the water swirling above my ankles. The lightning flashed across the sky, not in bright branching slashes, but in sheets above the clouds, followed by low, chest rumbling growls of thunder.<br />
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The rain pounded me, the wind bit at me and I turned my face to the sky and laughed with sheer exhilaration. It was glorious, being out in that, connecting to that power, knowing that I could return to the calm warmth of the house, that I could escape it should it get out of hand, that I could be victorious over the storm because in returning to the house, it could not get at me. (It got back at me for my hubris later with an exceptionally close lightning bolt and such a clap of thunder that I screamed in fright from my bastion of safety within the house). I stayed out in it for some time, splashing and playing and reveling in it.<br />
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I finally did go back in, teeth chattering, drenched and drained of my anxiety. The wind had whipped it out of me, the rain had washed it away and I was free again to cloak myself in civilization... and a hot shower.<br />
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<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-83855101495483889882015-07-17T20:26:00.000-06:002015-07-17T20:26:45.823-06:00Strengthening the FamilySo, I've gotten a bit of pushback from various sources about my post here, the primary pushback being that gay marriage can't strengthen families. <br />
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This does not make sense to me and no one can really explain to me how it weakens families or weakens marriage. From my POV, it seems like it can only strengthen both. A family that previously could not be legally bonded now can. Seems stronger to me.<br />
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What is your opinion?lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-8410804313170798712015-07-01T12:42:00.003-06:002015-07-01T12:48:01.449-06:00The Demise of the Traditional FamilyWhat with the SCOTUS ruling last week about the legality of gay marriages, there's been a whole lot of brouhaha about the demise of the "traditional" family. I've a few points to make on that family.<br />
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First off, I don't think that word means what you think it means. In the minds of many religious conservatives, Mormons being the flavour I've most truck with, this means the demise of the mother/father/2.5 kids, who all love each other and live in a house with a white picket fence and a dog and a cat. This is not reality. This is also not history.<br />
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Historically, "traditional" has meant many things, but if you want to look at modern "traditional" Western European/American families, what traditional means is this. A white male/white female bond, sometimes performed religiously, but always including state sanctioned benefits and rules. A white male head of the family, effectively owning his wife and children, daughters continuing to be owned even after reaching adulthood, unless they marry and come under the ownership of their husband. It meant women without any rights to property, money, safety, her person or her children except as her husband chooses to allow said rights to her. It meant children with no rights of their own until reaching adulthood. Well, male children come into their own rights when they reach adulthood, as I previously mentioned, female children never attain those rights. If their male parent dies and they are unmarried and have no one to care for them, well, they are on their own.<br />
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Thankfully, we have progressed beyond this, to a certain extent. Women and children here do have rights accorded by the state, although some conservative religions deny these rights and continue to keep women in submission to men.<br />
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In my own Mormon religious history, traditional and approved marriage meant polygamy. One man and many women. That's pretty recent, let's be honest. We are awesome at redefining marriage, ourselves. Can we fault others for attempting to do so?<br />
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Another point being made about the demise of the family is the rise of the me generation. Millenials are supposedly fundamentally selfish, which, to a certain extent, many are. But they are also some of the most UNSELFISH people to ever exist. Part of the proof brought up to show their selfishness is the fact that the marriage rate is going down, and people are waiting longer to have children or not having children at all.<br />
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Now, I will agree that a good part of this is based on the morally downward path of our society, but I don't think that path comes from selfishness, gay marriage, more people choosing to live together, more hedonistic lifestyles, etc. It comes from the moral downfall of our economy, which is, oddly, fully supported by the religious right. I'm talking about the Koch brothers. I'm talking about trickle-down economics (they don't work), I'm talking about corporate tax breaks, for profit healthcare, for profit insurance companies, the rise of inflation with no corresponding wage increases. I'm talking about the fight against useful government aid, the fight against government regulations that prevent the morally corrupt from taking advantage of their employees. <br />
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This is where the demise of the stable family stems from. If you can't afford YOURSELF when you get out of college completely buried in debt, how on earth can you afford a family? The idea that if you are righteous and have a family like you are "supposed to" and God will take care of you is lovely and delightful, but it simply isn't true. Righteous families go into bankruptcy and lose everything. Righteous families rely on welfare. Righteous families get sick and lose their livelihoods. Righteous women get left behind by their provider and are expected to raise all those righteous children on their own. And some manage it. And some don't.<br />
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If you have health issues and can barely afford your own insurance and medical care, how can you possibly afford the health care costs of a family? <br />
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If you can't even manage to afford college and all that debt and therefore can't get a well paying job to begin with, because the minimum wage is a joke, how on earth can you afford a family? <br />
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If part of the demise of the traditional family is because we now have mostly two income families, why are there so few ways to make a single income family work? And what happens when the single income has a problem and can no longer be relied on? The non income earning half of that couple (the mother, if this is a traditional family) suddenly has to pick up and find a way to earn a living. If she's been out of the workforce for some time, this is more difficult than you can possibly imagine. I speak from experience, here. I was a WAHM for most of 10 years. I suddenly found myself needing to provide for myself and my daughter on my own, and while it was not difficult to find a job, because of my skills, those 10 years out of the workplace seriously reduced my ability to earn a livable wage. I was fortunate in my ability and opportunity to keep my skills sharp while being at home, but the hit I took on the wage front has been incredibly difficult. And I only have one young child. I cannot imagine the plight of those with more and those without a strong support network.<br />
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The prevailing economy has at least as much to do with the demise of the traditional family, and in my opinion, much more to do with it than the legalization of gay marriage or the immorality of millenials. Something has to happen to make having a family a workable option. The religious right has co-opted the family values platform, but abortion, gay marriage and pre-marital sex are not the culprits. The inability to make a family life due to the lack of money or the dangers of losing one's livelihood because of health, divorce, etc, that's where the real problem lies. If the family is supposed to be the social building block of society, why aren't we doing more to support that building block? Allowing non-hetero people to marry only strengthens the family unit. Allowing families to go bankrupt because of sickness weakens it.<br />
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Let's try and remember what our priorities are.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-20679955229319570222015-05-13T16:15:00.000-06:002015-05-13T16:15:08.602-06:00Who Cares, Anyway?I really should blog more. I enjoy writing and find it very cathartic. But, I also find that a lot of the time when I write, I am angry or ragey about some unfairness or stupidity or what have you, and people don't like to read that so much. So, I mostly write about that stuff in a private blog or in my journal. <br />
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I've been told to not worry about stuff and just focus on myself and my daughter, but I often can't let injustices slide without comment or fight. That just perpetuates the injustice. Even if my comments or actions don't change anything, at least I tried. And, I have changed a few minds. And had my own mind changed.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-21534957569483714842015-03-01T23:56:00.005-07:002015-03-01T23:56:54.663-07:00BootstrapsI cannot handle it anymore, so here I go, ranting on my blog. If you aren't interested in my soap box, stop reading now and go look at pictures of kittens.<br />
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Today, I am rather disgusted with my fellow Mormons. Now, I think that most Mormons maybe don't think like this, but since most of them don't want to get involved and want to stay silent, I'm honestly not sure what to conclude. I am hoping that it is simply the case of a vocal minority, though I wish more people would speak up if they don't agree, because allowing the vocal minority to be the loudest makes us look BAD. Does it matter what the rest of the world thinks of us? Well, yes, it does! Why? Because part of what we believe to be our calling and responsibility on this earth is to bring souls to God. Hard to bring souls to God when we look like a hateful, small minded bunch of bigots.<br />
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Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating the "so open minded your brain falls out" mentality either. What I am talking about is the most basic tenets of the Gospel, which seem to have gotten lost in our bid to out-righteous one<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"> </span>another. In a FB thread, I was told, multiple times by multiple people that I did not understand the doctrines of the Gospel in any way and that I was on my way to apostasy if I hadn't already arrived there. Why? Because I advocated less vitriol and hate and more kindness toward Kate Kelly and those who support her, as well as others with differing opinions about issues. <br />
In case you want to know what some of the vitriol was...<br />
-Good riddance<br />
-The Church is much better off without her<br />
-She's probably a lesbian<br />
-Why does she even want to be a member?<br />
-She has so many similarities to Lucifer<br />
-I hope she disappears, I'm sick of her.<br />
-Tara, the fact that you think women might ever have the Priesthood shows how little you understand the Gospel or Heavenly Father. (This is after I said I thought God would be the one to decide if women are ordained in the future)<br />
-Women who ask about having the Priesthood are greedy and should be happy with what they have.<br />
-I don't need to read what these women have said because I already know they are all apostates.<br />
-Kate Kelly and her ilk are arrogant and juvenile.<br />
-when my daughters detail how people like Kate have lost their way, well, it makes this daddy very proud.<br />
-When I mentioned (after some snark on my part) that if this was a test of how Christlike we are, I thought we had failed, and I apologized for being snarky, due to the rude remarks slinging back and forth, this was the response.<br />
"May we all be as humble as you, Diane and Dan. Stellar folks you are, preaching philosophies of men mingled with scripture. Isn't that what Kate Kelly does? Yep, you need to learn doctrine."<br />
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Now, I inquired which doctrine I was misunderstanding in my apology and my desire to be more Christlike, love one another and all that, but he never answered me directly about it. He simply said that many people had tried to show Kate love and she didn't show any in return, so basically, because she didn't, he doesn't need to. Towards anyone.<br />
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It went on and on and on. I finally withdrew because it was making me disgusted with my own people (he wasn't alone in his opinions).<br />
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In addition to this thread, I read another one on the Healthy Utah bill and what people thought of it. The general consensus was that health care is NOT a right, it's a privilege. If you can't earn enough to pay for that privilege, that's your own fault. You should get a job with benefits. Can't find a job with benefits? Well, that's also your fault, you should have gotten an education so you could qualify for a better life. Couldn't pay for an education? Your fault. I did it, so you could have as well. (Never mind the rampant privilege oozing out of a statement like that.) <br />
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Can't afford insurance? You should work more hours so you can. Oh? You have children and can't work more hours because you need to be home with them? Well, that's a sacrifice you will have to make if you want insurance. Can't afford daycare for them because you don't make enough and the gov't aid has been cut? You shouldn't have spread your legs if you couldn't afford to care for your own kids. (This coming from members of the LDS Church, which, I would like to point out, counsels it's members NOT to wait until they are financially secure before they have children.)<br />
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There's also the birth control shouldn't be covered by insurance or gov't aid bit. I shouldn't have to pay for you to sleep around. Don't want to get pregnant? Don't have sex. No, we do not want comprehensive sex education, even though it is proven to reduce teen pregnancy. I don't want my children learning about CONDOMS or TEH GAYZ. It might make them go gay or think sex is ok.<br />
And no, abortions should never, ever, ever be allowed because BABIES. But, while we are on the subject of babies, no I don't want my tax dollars going to gov't aid programs for you people who don't want to get off your lazy butts and earn enough money to provide food, clothing and housing for those babies you had because you didn't use birth control (that you can't afford) or didn't refrain from sex (which you should do even if you are married). I will make sure that baby gets born, even if it is only a zygote right now, but once it is born, you need to take care of it. No safe and affordable daycare in your area? You should move to a nicer area. <br />
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Besides, there are enough infertile couples who will want to adopt your sweet new baby that you don't want because you are an evil, lazy welfare queen. Unless that baby isn't white. Or has special needs. Or stays in the foster system for so long that it is no longer a baby, because I don't want to raise your older child who now has attachment disorder due to being shuffled from house to house because you were to poor to keep her.<br />
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Oh, and yes, please use tens of thousands of my tax dollars to do drug tests on women who apply for food stamps, because I do not want my money going to provide food for the children of those kind of people. The children of drug addicts do not deserve to eat, apparently. Forget about the fact that the tens of thousands of dollars spent on those drug tests only saved $3600 in food stamps, it's totally worth it to keep their children from eating. If she can't feed her children because she is a drug addict, that is not my problem. If she wants her kids to eat, she shouldn't do drugs. She does drugs, so her kids just have to suffer.<br />
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BUT, those same kids should really be able to pull themselves out of the cycle of oppressive poverty because, reasons. Doesn't matter that they don't have the same privileges that I have. I know this one guy who grew up like that and he succeeded, so obviously, anyone can..<br />
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I could go on. No, I am not advocating against personal responsibility. Not in any way. I think we should be personally responsible and I do my damnedest to be just that. But, I also recognize my privilege. I am an educated white woman with a good skill, surrounded by family and friends who can help me. I only have one child, so it is infinitely easier to afford things on my small income. I was also taught how to manage money very well, a privilege not everyone is blessed with. <br />
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I was lucky enough, while pregnant, to be married to someone who could earn a living and had insurance, so when things went bad during my pregnancy and I could no longer work, I still had a roof over my head and insurance to pay what were sure to be large hospital bills. I shudder to think how things might have gone were we reliant on my income and benefits, since I lost them.<br />
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I was lucky enough to have insurance when my delivery went wrong and I nearly died, but didn't thanks to blood transfusions and a lot of IV meds. I was lucky enough that my insurance covered the medical bills, because there is no way I could have paid them off without it. Did I deserve to nearly die? Well, I could have avoided it had I kept my legs closed and not gotten pregnant.<br />
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I was lucky enough to have insurance and a skill that allowed me to work from home on my own schedule when my daughter got meningitis and was hospitalized for a week and nearly died. I didn't leave the hospital because I was terrified she would die if I did. I had the privilege (unearned, I might add) of being able to stay with her until she recovered.<br />
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My grand point is this. It is all well and good to pull yourself up by your bootstraps. To a certain extent I have done this. But, you can't do it if you haven't got the straps, much less the boots to begin with. <br />
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As a Mormon and a Christian, I firmly believe it is my GOD GIVEN DUTY to do what I can to help provide those boots, those straps and a way to learn how to pull, whether in life or as a member of the Church who struggles. "As I have loved you, love one another" It seems that many of my fellows disagree with me. Get your own damn boots. <br />
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<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-85178679810651309792015-02-01T23:29:00.001-07:002015-02-01T23:29:55.287-07:00Oh, to be in EnglandI went to London last week, somewhere that I've not been for nigh unto 20 years. It was...painful, beautiful, exciting, depressing and altogether beautiful.<br />
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I first found myself there immediately after graduating from college, in 1996, with a group of my lovely friends from college. And, I fell in deep, lasting love with the city. I fell in love with the history, the architecture, the museums, the underlying pulse and scent of a huge place that has been there for centuries, millenia, even.<br />
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I was young, single and college educated. I had the world at my feet and I could do anything, and London is a good place to be when you feel like you can conquer the world. <br />
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My trip was important for me for a number of reasons, one of them being that it was the first time in a very long time that I had done something strictly for myself. And, oh, was it glorious. I was there for a couple of months, living in a grubby little flat with 4 other girls, just doing what I wanted. Museums, shows, castles, shopping, food, walking, history, textiles, beauty, travel. I felt completely free there. Free and happy. So, you see, London is a bit of a fairy tale for me. I had dreamt about it before I went, and it lived up to it's expectations.<br />
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And, fast forward to now. I hadn't been back to London since, for so many reasons, but, this Christmas, a dear friend was talking about going and it put an idea into my head. By providence or luck, I got a bonus at work, and that, coupled with the ideas that said friend had put in my head, made me jump on the internet. You know, just to see what flights looked like. And I found one. A cheap one. Right after the show at work opened. What did I do? I didn't think, that's what, I just bought the ticket. And promptly had a bit of a freakout. It's a lot of money, buying a plane ticket to England. And I'm so careful with my money. But, despite the website having a 24 hr return policy, I bit my lip and hung on, waiting for the panic to pass. <br />
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Suddenly, it was real. I was going to LONDON. I needed a passport, I needed to do a budget, I needed some clothes and some travel accoutrements. So, I hustled my butt and got things done and before I knew it, my trip was here. I wasn't ready, but it didn't much matter, I was going. By myself, which could have been a bit nerve-wracking, except it's LONDON.<br />
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I got off the plane, took the Gatwick Express to Victoria Station, ditched my luggage and walked out into the cold London damp. I would be lying if I said it didn't take my breath away. Oh, it did. So many memories. So many delightful, perfect memories. I had a Tube pass, but I didn't want to waste my time or the view, so I walked from Victoria Station over to Westminster Abbey and Parliament, snapping photos of all the buildings on the way.<br />
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London is a huge, old city, full of twisty narrow roads and tight alleys. Old buildings and modern office structures. And so, when you are walking about, you might be in a narrow street of Victorian Terrace houses with a modern building stuck in the middle. Or walking next to and between a couple of concrete high rises with only the grey sky above to accompany the grey blocks on either side. It smells of exhaust and cigarette smoke and Indian food and sweat. Then suddenly, you turn a corner and you are transported back. The noise dies away, the traffic disappears, the smells change, because suddenly, you are face to face with history. Beautiful, unchanged, exquisite, real history. And it beckons you on and in. This is what London does to me. It sucks me in, catches me tight in it's embrace and it won't let me go. And I don't want to be let go.<br />
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Westminster Abbey, the Palace of Westminster. Complicated, elaborate, overblown gothic perfection. And it sneaks up on you out of this modern, whirling, bustling city, to take your breath away, to steal you out of your own space, to boggle your mind with it's complexity. Well, my mind, anyhow. <br />
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London is my happy place, my fairy tale, my dream come true, which in some ways, also makes it profoundly disheartening, because it doesn't belong to me and never will. A trip to London every 15 or 20 years is not enough to make it mine. London has my heart, but I don't have London.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-92107179634952363262015-01-30T15:01:00.001-07:002015-01-30T15:01:16.253-07:00AnxietyIf you love me, you should read this. Hell, if you don't love me, you should read this, because you probably know and love someone with this problem.<br />
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<a href="http://www.vox.com/2014/12/4/7262991/anxiety-disorder-help" target="_blank">9 things I wish people understood about anxiety</a><br />
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#9 really gets me. I know how much I can exhaust those close to me. I know what a pain in the ass I am. So, I tend to keep to myself or try to focus on the other person, because wearing out someone that you love is really hard on one's self-esteem.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-29644877242802347182014-11-25T22:07:00.001-07:002014-11-25T22:07:23.772-07:00Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!So, I've had a crappy few days. Sewed my finger at work, the needle broke off and a bit got stuck in my finger, so I had to push it through and pull it out with some big tweezers. It was gross, it hurt a lot and I ended up having to go to Instacare to get it X-rayed and get a tetanus booster. Not awesome. <br />
Yesterday, I finished a cushion I was reupholstering for a friend and went by his house to drop it off. I'd been fighting a migraine all day, which sucked, because I was out of meds. I figured I would drop off the cushion, hang out and admire my handiwork for a bit, then head home after traffic had died down a bit. I hate driving in traffic, but it's a hundred times worse with a migraine.<br />
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So, there I sat on his couch, eating brie and water crackers when, all of a sudden, my head just exploded. I'm lucky I didn't vomit on his floor, it was that bad. I set my cracker down and said "I have to go home." He watched me for a moment, as I unsteadily made my way to the door and down the steps. He followed me out, took my arm and returned me to the house, saying I was unfit to drive and that I should lay down. So, naturally, I started to cry. <br />
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Now, I freely admit that I am a bit of a crybaby. It's one of the things I sincerely dislike about myself, but there it is. When I have a migraine, I get weepy, it's just how it works. So, there I am, wobbling in his front room with tears streaming down my dead white face. Embarrassing would be the word for this. I felt like an idiot. But, he was right, I was in no fit state to drive home. So, I laid on his floor for some time, then spent the night, propped in a sitting position on the couch, as it was too painful to lay down. Come this morning, I was still in some serious pain, so he left me there when he went to work. He was terribly kind, but still, I felt like crap, I had no intention of inconveniencing him in that manner and I generally manage (and prefer) to be in my own bed when I boo-hoo in pain.<br />
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All of this is a preface to the remainder of my day and what I am looking forward to this weekend. After I more or less recovered, I went to work. I was only there for an hour before my boss sent me home because the carpet was being redone at work and the smell was horrible and she was worried about my migraine recurring. So, I left and got home in time to walk over to the school to pick up my girl. My wee nephew was at my mom's, so they came with me and I put the baby down to fetch the Small Daughter, and the look on his face when he saw her was priceless. He loves her and she him, although they irritate each other to no end. She was happy to see me, as well. I hadn't seen her for a couple of days, so it was a delight to get her early.<br />
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We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for Thanksgiving, which was delightful, but CROWDED! <br />
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When we got home, Small Daughter promptly ran upstairs to see her friends. I live in an apartment in my BFF's basement, and she has three littles near Small Daughter's age, it's fantastic. I tidied up, did some work, took a bath, had a chat with the friend from the night before, then sat on my bed and ate pomegranate while reading. Delightful. Small Daughter came home about an hour ago, "Mom, I'm STARVING!", so I plopped her in bed, handed her the Kindle, reheated some Cafe Rio soup and queso for her, then climbed in next to her. She wrapped her arms around me, gave me a kiss and said, "I'm lucky to have a mamma as nice as you!"<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving, indeed. My life is blessed.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-59491831088453725342014-11-01T19:44:00.000-06:002014-11-01T19:44:46.487-06:00HEYOh, hey, it's me. The laziest blogger in the history of ever. I have thoughts for posts flit through my head all the time, but most of them never make it onto this blog, for a variety of reasons. The top one, though, is that I'm lazy about writing. Or maybe I'm just too busy, I mean, I have lots going on! Yes, that's it. Busy.<br />
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Anyway, I worked today, at work (see? BUSY). I mean, it wasn't FOR my regular job, but I did go up there to get some stuff done. I work better up there, I have to admit. There aren't any distractions, no computer, etc. No people, no snacks, just a nice big space (I actually cleaned off my table) and sewing machines that work. I messed up my industrial at home a couple of months ago and haven't gotten it fixed yet, and sewing on a domestic makes me cranky. I feel like I could just weight the pedal, go make dinner and then come back and do the next seam. SO SLOW. And I had to get the thing done today. The thing being a christening dress for a friend's granddaughter who needs it for TOMORROW. <br />
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There is a possibility that I procrastinate sometimes. Don't judge. I'M BUSY.<br />
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As a brief respite from working today, I went to the interior decorating fabric store with a friend to find fabric so I can redo the cushion on his antique settee. No lie, it's fun spending other people's money, even if it isn't for me. He finds a fabric he likes and goes for it. $50/yd, no biggie. If it turns out he doesn't like the fabric, meh, we'll do it over (he's paying me). My reaction? Blink...blink...blink. When I reupholster my furniture, I head over the to cheap home fabrics store and buy the stuff that's clearanced for $5/yd or less. Like I said, spending other people's money is fun.<br />
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After finding fabric he liked, we jaunted on over to Starbucks for scones (where he made fun of my proper pronunciation of the word) and coffee, or spiced cider, in my case. Then, we chatted. I love chatting with this man. He's very intelligent, intellectual, liberal, well read, funny and challenging. He makes me rethink my views and opinions on some things in a way no one else does. It's very stimulating, and also sometimes frustrating. He's also VERY opinionated, but so am I and it's rather delightful, the debates we get into. He got me into a corner today and then laughed and said "Don't argue with me, I'm very good." I told him that was my line and he needed to not steal it. <br />
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During the course of the conversation, he asked me if I was dating anybody yet. I said no, he said why not, I said dating is a pain in the ass. Especially if one is a Mormon Feminist. It narrows the field considerably. His response? "You should give up being a Mormon, then." I thought this was really interesting. Yes, I have issues with a lot of the culture of the LDS Church. Being a Feminist, that is sort of unavoidable. I even have some issues with what many perceive as the doctrine of the LDS Church. The difference being that I think those things are policy, not doctrine, and may change some day. But, that is a different post, and one I will probably never write on here. While this may be the blog of a Mormon Feminist, it is not A Mormon Feminist Blog, though I do frequent many of those. But, I digress. <br />
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I had to pause for a minute and figure out how to explain why that wasn't the sort of thing I could just "give up" so I could date more. What it boils down to is this; Being a Mormon is foundational to my self identity. I have a strong conviction of the truth of the doctrine found in the Gospel we have here. It directs, in a certain sense, how I choose to live my life and the choices I make in my life, and <i>how</i> I make those choices. So much of the culture I live in here drives me CRAZY. It's sexist and conservative and classist and often unchristian and judgy, honestly, and it makes it hard to engage in a general sense. But, I can't and won't give it up, because the doctrine rings true for me.<br />
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I can't give up being Mormon any more than I can give up being feminist or intelligent or independent or opinionated, all things that make dating hard. Not only does that narrow the field of men that are interested in me, but it narrows the field of men in whom I am interested. I had a few men on a dating site I was on tell me they thought it brave of me to admit that I was a feminist in my profile, because it would mean a lot fewer men would be interested in messaging me. Blink blink. Um, guess what? If they are put off by me being a feminist, I'd just as soon they NOT message me....not my kind of guy, methinks. I'm not afraid to put that I'm a Mormon in my profile, either. I am one.<br />
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If I have to give up something, I'll give up dating. I won't give up Mormon or feminist or intelligent or independent or opinionated. Besides, as my friend said "dating is an instrument, not an end."<br />
But, wow, it takes a lot of time to wade through the detritus in search of a treasure. Ain't nobody got time for that!<br />
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<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-48577971890011262932014-10-25T22:42:00.002-06:002014-10-25T22:42:55.287-06:00Love or Bust...usually bust.I went out with a friend and former lover last night. We had a lovely dinner, went to the symphony...and talked...and talked...and talked. Until 3 in the morning. It was delightful, soul filling, aggravating and raw. I love that kind of thing. I love rawness and openness and honesty in relationships. I love those kinds of friends or lovers who see into your soul and not just like what they see there, but crave it. One doesn't come upon them very often, so when they do come along, I have a tendency to grasp them and hang on.<br />
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But, it isn't just that they crave what is within you, because that isn't enough. You have to crave them in the same way. There are things about them that hurt you, anger you, make you grit your teeth with frustration. Because that's what these people do, they arouse great passions in you, and you in them. But, the good parts? Oh, they are so good, they are so worth it. Because they do arouse great passion. They hurt you, but they are the balm to your soul. They anger you, but fill you with such joy, they make you grit your teeth in frustration, but provide such satisfaction.<br />
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Relationships like this are often rocky, seemingly unstable, but once firmly established, the rockiness provides texture and the instability goes away. Because you know no matter how angry they make you, no matter how they may hurt you (usually inadvertently), you know they love you and you them. You know that your souls belong together and that they will forgive you and you will forgive them and they will love you. <br />
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When you have a friend or lover like this, someone who sees into your soul, someone you allow into your inner keep, they have a great capacity to wound and hurt, because by inviting them in, you have handed them a knife, removed your armour, showed them your most vulnerable spots and trusted them to not stab or cut you. But sometimes, they do cut you, though not often on purpose.<br />
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I love him because he challenges me. I love him because he makes me rethink what I have thought. I love him because he loves humanity. I love him because he is raw and honest and broken, but he continues to love. I love him because he makes me more me, by virtue of being him. <br />
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I love him because he is my friend.<br />
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<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-92005699289036001002014-10-16T14:30:00.001-06:002014-10-16T14:31:05.417-06:00WHAT IN THE HELL<a href="http://hannahhurtful.tumblr.com/post/100088452252/superhappy-cognitivedissonance-after-threats" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Death threats and feminism</span></a><br />
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I have nothing really to add to this post except that I am utterly and completely flabbergasted. It came up in a group I'm on on Facebook and one member said that Ms. Sarkeesian should consider changing her message if she's getting death threats. <br />
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How...what...I HAVE NO WORDS.<br />
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Is this the world we want? Where feminists have to cancel speeches because some asshole feels unmanned by her? Guess what, buddy, if all it takes to unman you is a feminist talking, you aren't a man, sorry. You're a worm. <br />
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I'm disgusted.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-85946810776762220882014-10-05T18:33:00.002-06:002014-10-05T18:33:21.428-06:00What a beautiful day today was. It's the first weekend I haven't had to work in a very long time, it's fall, which is my favourite season and it's General Conference weekend for the LDS Church, which is lovely and edifying (and means no local meetings). <br />
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I am the sort of person who can never be satisfied with things the way they are, so, as it was my first free weekend for some time, what do you suppose I did? Rearranged my apartment, of course! Generally, I do this every six months or so, but I've only lived in this place for not quite three. The issue is, when I move into a new place, I set things up in a way I think might work, but after living in it for a bit, I realize that certain bits don't.<br />
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The biggest issue this time was space for the Small Daughter. Originally, I had used a hallway that leads to my housemate's part of the house (and is consequently closed off) as her play area. The problem with this is that only one person can fit in to play and she has friends. Because of the small size of the front room, there wasn't really any floor for them to spill out on, plus, goodness are they noisy! <br />
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This apartment, though lovely, is small and has only one bedroom, which is sizeable. So, since I currently spend most of my time in the front room rather than the bedroom, I decided to dedicate a corner of it to her play area. It's quite nice. And, it leaves the hallway area for bookshelves, which looks rather better than a vomit of toys. <br />
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When I woke this morning, amidst the mess I had made starting this project yesterday, I was feeling quite down. This is primarily because the Small Daughter was at her dad's and I miss her when she is gone. This is not to say that I discourage her from spending time with her dad, on the contrary, I encourage it, she needs it. But, I am lonely when she isn't here. She is a charming companion, even at only 7 years. She is witty and clever, logical, smart and funny. She is not too old nor too big for cuddles and she likes to help me cook and she reads to me and tells me amusing stories. She has her faults, as do we all, but they are far outweighed by her good qualities.<br />
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As much as I love my darling girl, I also miss adult companionship. I have good friends at work, but that is work and there is minimal time for talking. I like talking, sharing, discovering with others. I like to learn about things that interest them, I like to debate and learn from them. I like to share what I have and have them share what they have. I like the intimacy of time and care spent with and on others. Well, certain others. Intimacy is only achievable, I think with members of one's own tribe, whether they are born part of one's tribe or choose to join it, they must be "of the race that knows Joseph", to quote L.M. Montgomery. I'm not sure my tribe is very large, I've found some people who are part of it, but mostly they aren't. And the people who are part of it lead their own busy lives. <br />
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Wouldn't it be nice to find a member of your tribe who belonged to you? I think that's what really successful marriages are. I'd like that.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-79119564450602716952014-09-28T12:02:00.002-06:002014-09-28T12:02:54.948-06:00It's my lifeI'm 40 years old. I'm divorced. I make a good life for my daughter and myself, even if it isn't the life I had intended it to be. I've evolved over the years, becoming less conservative and more of a feminist. I've realized that things I thought were black and white, aren't. That there are shades of grey in life and even in the best people and institutions. I've learned that good intentions aren't sufficient. I've learned that it's really ok, and in fact it's GOOD to question. I've learned that the best thing to do is not worry about the other people's sins, but just to love them. I've learned that I don't like bigotry or sexism, and I've learned that many people don't want to acknowledge that these things exist. I've learned that if someone's actions don't cause harm, they are none of my business. I've learned that people have some crazy ideas about what harm is. Or isn't.<br />
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And here's the thing I'm still trying to learn. I only need to let those people that I want in my life. I am under no obligation to allow damaging people to be involved with me, whether they are damaging by intent or otherwise. And so, I am going to clean out my life. If your views are denigrating to mine, you're out. If you open conversation with me and then refuse to listen, you're out. If you feel the need to pat me on my silly woman's head for having issues with the patriarchy, you're out. If you want to tell me that sexism and bigotry and classism don't really exist anymore and it's just me falling prey to the lefty agenda, you're out. <br />
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If you don't want to follow the path I'm on, that is absolutely ok with me. You choose your own path, but stop trying to drag me off of mine. Stop trying to convince me that I'm ill informed. If you know me at all, you know that's false. Stop trying to convince me that it's because I don't have enough faith. What I don't have is blind obedience, but then, I'm not supposed to.<br />
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If you don't care for me the way I fundamentally am? GO AWAY. I've no intention of changing. I've arrived at this person that I am with a lot of effort, a lot of education, a lot of chasing knowledge and a lot of eye opening experiences. I've still got a lot to learn, I acknowledge this. I still have a lot of work to do, I'm aware. But I really like who I've become and if you don't, I don't want you around me. lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-12998777964787438882014-09-24T22:45:00.001-06:002014-09-24T22:53:25.714-06:00The OperaSo, I work for an opera company, as a cutter/draper, which means it's my responsibility to make the patterns and cut out the costumes for the female characters in the shows.<br />
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It's a behind the scenes job, obviously, and unless an audience member really knows what they are looking at, my job doesn't often get noticed. This is as it should be, because as a costumer, my work is not meant to be the focal point of a show, it is meant to support the overall spectacle and concept of the show.<br />
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However, once in a while, those of us who are backstage get to show off what we do in a more specific sense.<br />
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Right now, we are in the last couple of weeks of the build for Madame Butterfly, an extremely popular Puccini opera. This show is being built completely new. There are approximately 30 people in this particular cast, and with the multiple costumes on some characters, it equals out to around 40 costumes. My particular responsibility includes about 100 pieces, kimonos, under kimonos and obis, as well as myriad smaller bits.<br />
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This has been a slightly more difficult build for me than some of the others, because, while I am well versed in period western women's wear, I am not so much in Japanese kimono. This show has required rather more research than I generally have to do. There is a lot of symbolism in kimono and obi, and when one is trying to portray things as accurately as possible (with obvious licence for theatre) one needs to be aware of this symbolism. Not only that, but I know what proportions should be for western women's fashion, I know how much fullness and how much ease is needed or wanted, depending on the period of history I'm doing. I don't have that automatic knowledge about Japanese clothing. <br />
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In addition to all of this, we didn't start the show with fabrics ready to cut. Everything had to be painted and dyed before it could be made into kimono. Our crafts technician is amazing and painting/dyeing is her forte. We started with white silk and ended with the most vibrantly beautiful hand painted kimonos we've ever had.<br />
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And, as I was saying before, sometimes we get to be in front of the camera (literally and figuratively) to show people just what it is we do. For some reason, this show has been particularly popular, publicity-wise and we have been interviewed by <a href="http://www.saltlakemagazine.com/blog/2014/09/19/utah-opera-first-look-at-madame-butterfly-costumes/" target="_blank">Salt Lake Magazine</a>, <a href="http://fox13now.com/2014/09/24/costumers-hard-at-work-for-utah-operas-production-of-madame-butterfly/" target="_blank">Fox 13 News</a> and the Salt Lake Tribune. It's been fun to show off a little, but I think we'll all be happy when we can get back to being backstage, working our magic.<br />
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In the meantime, here's a few pics of said magic.<br />
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<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-16821431150257420522014-09-23T23:13:00.002-06:002014-09-23T23:13:13.680-06:00Cleaning outSometimes, you have to just clean out the crap that's dragging you down, whether it's people, or things.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-51283260011938518032014-09-18T20:30:00.001-06:002014-09-18T20:30:15.632-06:00Workin' hardSo, I've been thinking about what it will take to go back to school and get my nursing degree. On the one hand, it seems like a really good idea. Nursing, then possibly a midwife degree is a really stable career, especially here in Utah, and the pay and benefits are certainly better than what one can make in the arts. I love the arts and it would be so hard to give that up, but raising a child alone isn't easy financially and it will only get more expensive.<br />
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On the other hand, when I consider how much work will be involved, it worries me. I have a little daughter. She needs me and my time. Will going to school take too much time away from her? Will I even be able to get into nursing school? What if I don't? I have a year's worth of pre-reqs to do before I can even apply for nursing school and that would mean quitting my job and taking out loans in order to do that, and then if I didn't get into nursing school after that? Then what? I would have a significant amount of money in loans and no way to pay them off. I wouldn't have a job, I wouldn't have a way to support myself or my daughter.<br />
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It's scary, y'all. I know I would be a good nurse, I know I would do well in school. Even though my degree is in the arts, I've always had a penchant for science. But, I'm not so young anymore. I don't have any healthcare experience, I already have a degree and I graduated from college the first time nearly 20 years ago. What would possess them to accept me to nursing school? It isn't easy to get in.<br />
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Do I dare risk my stable, albeit not well paying job to take out major loans for something that may not work out? It was different when I was young and going to college the first time. Then, I was young and unattached with no obligations except to myself. And being young, I had a hell of a lot more energy than I do now. I worked 2 jobs and went to school full time, paid for my schooling, had a scholarship and didn't take out any loans. That won't be the case this time. If I'm going to nursing school full time, I won't be able to work, because I will be in school all day and I need to be home with my wee lass at night. Well, and I want to be home with her. So, that means loans for tuition and loans for living expenses. <br />
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Now, I know how to be poor, I know how to live cheaply, but it isn't easy, and it's very stressful. And I'm looking at 3 years here, at the least, before I'm a nurse, and then two more years if I want to be a midwife.<br />
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I don't know. It's discouraging. On the one hand, I really want to do it. It would be nice to have a well paying career, a very stable job, doing something I enjoy doing, helping others and getting paid to do it. On the other hand, it's such a risk, and if it fails, I am screwed. Ugh.<br />
<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-79087951732515910352014-09-14T22:30:00.000-06:002014-09-14T22:30:50.599-06:00Relationships and WhereforesI've had some interesting conversations with a few people lately about relationships and why they are or aren't important. I think it just depends on one's viewpoint, really, about what makes something important, or why it might be important.<br />
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So, here's some perspectives.<br />
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I am the sort of person who cares about others, sometimes to my detriment. I tend to forgo things that I want for myself, things I want to do, places I want to visit, etc, if someone needs me or needs what I have. This is not always a good thing, because it often means I say yes to things I shouldn't, wind up with my plate far too full and unable to do my best at the things I should. It also means I often don't get what I want or what I deserve. And, human nature being what it is, people tend to take advantage of that. But, I can't help it. I care about people, I want to help if I can. I need to help if I can. <br />
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I dated a man who also cares deeply for people. His career is basically finding ways to make it easier to care for people (he studies Health Economics). He is politically and socially active in caring for people. He writes and researches and publishes new ways to make it easier and more efficient to care for people.<br />
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We share a lot in common, this way, caring for and about other people, in a way that takes up much of our time. But, we differ greatly in one very specific way when it comes to this.<br />
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The way I care for people is on an individual basis. I make the most difference that way. I am invested in the relationships I have with people, because I care for people. That is where I choose to spend my effort, on the individual. So, relationships are important to me.<br />
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For him, the good of the many outweighs the good of the one. He feels he makes the most difference being invested in the research and the projects and the publishing and teaching that he does. And, he's likely right. But, what it means for him is that relationships aren't the important thing. They take time away from the important thing.<br />
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But, I don't consider relationships important just because of the effect that I can have on others, they are important for me, as well. I enjoy them, I like having friends, I enjoy having a significant other, I like the benefits I gain from them, and I'm willing to put a great deal of effort into those that I think will go somewhere, or be something. It's vital to me to have these relationships, because of what they do for me. Of course, I think the benefit is mutual...<br />
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He considers relationships of this sort to be a luxury. And perhaps he is right. A real relationship requires time and effort and sacrifice. Having a relationship like that means that time is taken from elsewhere to foster it, which means that some of the things that he does to try and help others wouldn't get done. In order to have meaningful relationships, he would have to cut back on the other stuff that he does. <br />
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But, is it selfish? I'm in many of the relationships/friendships that I am in because they are beneficial or enjoyable to ME. If they stopped being that way, I would stop being in them. I put out the effort that I do because the payoff for ME is very good, although it is for the other party as well, I think. <br />
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So, are relationships a luxury? Are they selfish? If they take one away from doing good on a grander scale, but they are more enjoyable, is that selfish?<br />
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Why are relationships important?lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-39919085426552727792014-09-07T21:39:00.001-06:002014-09-07T22:41:43.324-06:00HappinessMy girl is home after being gone for three days with her dad. I don't like it when she is gone, it feels terribly empty. <br />
I waited out on the sidewalk when I heard the truck coming down the street. She jumped out and ran to me, jumping into my arms to give me a giant hug and a kiss, with a "I had SO much fun, but I missed you, mamma!"<br />
Yes, this is what happiness looks like. How lucky I am that she is mine.<br />
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<br />lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-25388307396211387912014-09-06T17:08:00.002-06:002014-09-06T17:08:26.607-06:00Why?Why does asking why make people decide that I must not believe in the Gospel or in God or prophets? Since when are we supposed to be blind sheeple?lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941858457831271563.post-57161755933990751272014-08-25T00:17:00.000-06:002014-08-25T00:17:12.243-06:00I've been thinking a lot about marriage lately and what makes a marriage work and what we are allowed to expect out of a marriage. And are my standards, wants, needs too high? Clearly, not everyone wants the same thing out of a marriage and partnership that I want. I look around me at some of my friends and acquaintances and I think, I could not do marriage that way. Except that I did, for 12 years. It didn't work. Not for me, anyway.<br />
Now, clearly, I am not in the marriages that I see, but some of them are friends of mine so I do know some of the inner workings of their marriages. Not enough to make a fair judgement, but enough to make me curious how much more there is to it.<br />
I had many people tell me that I was not justified in leaving my marriage. It's none of their business and they certainly aren't in a position to determine that for me. But, I can see that for some of them, some of the things that made me HAVE to leave are things that they would not consider that big of a deal. Things they can do without. Things that they think I have no right to expect and that aren't necessary for a marriage to be happy? Successful? Perhaps they are right.<br />
But, what makes a marriage successful, then?<br />
For me, it's one thing, really. Because this one thing parlays into all the other things that make a marriage work. It's intimacy. I require it. And, I don't just refer to physical/sexual intimacy, although, I think that can be a natural extension of the other types of intimacy, if one is in that type of relationship. By which I mean that friendships can be intimate as well, without physical/sexual intimacy.<br />
So, what is intimacy? How does one achieve it? Is it that important to everybody?<br />
I'll start with the last question. No, I don't think it is. I don't think everyone is interested in a deep level of intimacy with their partner, and I think there are a variety of reasons for this. Fear, lack of awareness, lack of desire to do the work required, to put in the time. I think fear and lack of awareness may be two of the most prevalent.<br />
I once likened being intimate with someone to a castle. There are layers of defenses set up to protect ourselves, some concious, some unconcious and many quite necessary. There are things about ourselves, our divine spark, if you will, that are too precious to share with the common world, so we guard them, as we should. So, you can go to the extreme and keep everyone on the other side of the moat, drawbridge up, portcullis down. Or, you can back things off a bit. Leave the bridge down and allow people into the outer bailey. They can look and see and interact, but the spark is still well protected, as it should be. Then, there are those people you allow through to the inner bailey. Your close acquaintances, etc. They get a somewhat better vision of the real you, but you are still safe, because you don't know these people QUITE that well yet. There are those you allow into the outer keep, your bannermen, those who will stand by you in times of trouble, but have their own things to do when peace is in the land. They can recognize your need to retreat to a safe space and will defend it as they can. Finally, there is the inner keep. It's where you keep your treasures, your secrets, your SELF. The barest you. For some people, no one is allowed in here. It's too dangerous, because in your inner keep, you are unarmed, naked. Anyone that comes in there can hurt you. And so you are careful, you keep the door barred, your treasures safely guarded. This is not bad, unless you stay in your inner keep with the door permanently barred. Most of us don't, most of us wander down to the outer keep, the inner and outer bailey and even to the other side of the moat. But we don't do it unarmed or unprotected.<br />
Being alone in the inner keep is lonely. But, it's also where you find yourself.<br />
I think a lot of people never spend time in their inner keep. I think there are some people who don't even know there is an inner keep, not of their own, nor that others have one. And if you don't know it's there, you can't let anyone else in. If you can't see someone else's, you can't join them in it.<br />
I want someone in my inner keep, but I want them to want to be there. I want them to earn their way in. I would have to trust them, because my inner keep is a reflection of me. It has areas full of light, and areas dark with shadow. I need someone to love the shadow as well as the light, if only for the contrast it gives. But, I am reluctant, because it is easy for someone to betray me in my keep. I am unarmed. I have been wounded there and left defenseless, open and raw.<br />
But, I am also hopeful, because I have been loved there. I have had someone come in and tell me it is beautiful and mean it. Someone who wanted to spend time there, to admire and enjoy the warmth and beauty and to help drive away some of the shadow with their own spark when mine dims.<br />
And this is a thing of beauty and something that I require, should I ever be inclined to marry again.lillysmumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09871815148737169392noreply@blogger.com2