Frickety Frack

F is for Fewer.

That is my goal this year. Fewer.
Fewer things
Fewer bills
Fewer reasons to cry
Fewer skipped celebrations
Fewer bruises and bumps and skinned knees
Fewer pounds
Fewer diapers
Fewer missed Sabbath days
Fewer fights and altercations
Fewer nights of lost sleep
Fewer stupid TV shows
Fewer trashy mystery novels
Fewer guilt trips
Fewer reasons to hold my breath and count to ten
Fewer.

Eeep Opp Orc Aha (and that means meet me tonight.)

E is for elated. Which is what I felt this morning when I realized I did not have to write three research papers by the 31st; it was only a dream.

Dorcas Wong

D is for Domingo. Which is El Dia before the El Dia we get ready for Sunday.

I love the Sabbath.

Today, being high on Ovulation, I had a weird day. I have been vacillating between 100+ degree fevers and white-hot rage. W had to remove me from church after I told him, in a stage whisper, that I hated the smarmy little bastard doing sign language on the Sunday School DVD. I wanted to throw a book at the TV. It was weird. Sorry Porter and CJane because I am sure that the guy is some sort of a Clark, since y'all have the syndicate on all things broadcasted. Still, he had better stay on the other side of the street. This was after I marched out of Sacrament Meeting and drove to my favorite Laurel's home to get her out of bed and at church. ("But I am too tired." "Well, I want to call everyone I see a hooker and a biz-natch. Get up." "But I am sleeping." "I don't care. Get up.") Not feeling the spirit, mostly rage. Still, I got her to church. Again, weird.

Normally, though, Domingo is a great day of the week. I occasionally feel the spirit during the first block of meetings (Depending on the whims of Jooj) and then I drop her off at nursery for two hours. I get spiritually recharged and a free babysitter. How can you not love the gospel, I ask? Plus, I renew the covenants that I made when I was baptized, and I get saturated by reminders that I am on the right path for La Yen. As I sit in the peace I remember why I do the things I do, and I review my week--am I going in the right direction? (yes.) Do I need to repent? (yes.) Am I working my hardest to live every week like it is Shark Week? (Not this week. Will try harder.)

After almost three years in El Paso, I am still amazed by the differences between here and Utah. Like Utah County, El Paso has more churches than bars, which I think is a pretty good indicator of a city's temperament. Still, I am always noticing the Sabbath differences between me and my neighbors. (One of my neighbors was recently baptized to the church. But she is certifiably crazy and wanders the streets all day carrying different bags and backpacks and things, and darts in front of cars without looking. I am not talking about her, though. But we do have differences. Although maybe not this week.) I have always felt that there were two ways to live a religion: be devout, or don't be religious at all. Anything in the middle is just a waste of your time. Not talking about personal feelings about God, or whatever, just in the way that religion is manifested. The majority of religions are pretty specific about rules to follow and whatnot, and if you don't follow the rules there are pretty specific prescribed consequences. In my mind, if you are not following all of the rules, then you should not bother to follow any of them--it doesn't do you any good. Like a twelve-year old who reminds you that, even though she snuck out of the house to go on a date, she WAS home by curfew. No good done.

Since the day I was born, I have absolutely known that living my religion was how I wanted to live. There have been times that I have tried to go half-way about it; I have made exceptions for skipping church or not keeping the Sabbath day holy to accommodate others, I have called people smarmy bastards during Sunday School, I have coveted. All the little basics. But I just don't feel good when I live that way. So I try my very best to live my religion every day, and especially on Domingo. And that is why I get so confused at people driving out of their church parking lot and into the liquor store across the street. Or stopping before Mass at the place down the road that sells big pots of hangover Menudo. Or stealing cars from the Stake Center parking lot while our prophet is speaking via satellite. Or cornering my favorite Laurel in the foyer and telling her she is a bad person, and that she would thank them later for yelling at her in public and berating her up and down (one guess as to who in the congregation is at it again!). Or (this one I saw today) playing really really really loud music that talked, in graphic detail, about the female anatomy, while in the parking lot of an Evangelical chapel. I don't know--it just confuses me. I know that many people go to church because they feel obligated, or they feel guilted, or it is simply a habit. Isn't that a waste of time? Wouldn't your body feel better if you were being honest with yourself? Mine does. It rebels against me when I rebel against what I know to be truth. Maybe that is why there is so much acne. People not being honest with their bodies. Just a thought.
Does this make any sense? I am high on hormones. And in mourning for Romber.

And these neighbors of mine, for the most part, are great, amazing people. They love their families, they support their community, they are all-around-good people. Except for that guy down the street who had a drum solo until 3 in the morning last night. He is also the guy who piles seven kids on his quad and drives on the sidewalk and gets mad when I don't get my baby stroller out of the way quick enough. I just wonder if they are happy. I hope that they are happy. Because people deserve to feel as happy as I feel (except for when I feel the rage and the nausea) on Domingo.

And now that I think about it, there is no difference, really, between the two counties. Because I think that a lot of my neighbors back in the UC only did what they felt obligated to do. And I know that the Sizz was crowded after Stake Conference. And the liquor stores were not open, so no one could be spotted that way. Does that make the EP more honest? Does that make our acne better? On City Confidential and shows like that, they are always quick to point out the contrast between that beautiful stock photo of the Salt Lake Temple and the grizzly body of whoever got murdered. As a people, the citizens of Utah are generally more known for the confabs of Mormons than for anything else, and so they are held to a higher standard by the rest of the world. I guess I am doing the same thing when I look at other people and wonder why they don't live the way I think that they should. Who am I to wonder? Who am I to think that they are not happy?

GTG--My Husband's Three Wives is on the Discovery Health channel. God bless America and my CRAZY CRAZY ovaries. Don't judge me.

Apples and Bananas

A while back Shannon did an alphabet meme and tagged me.

I have mixed thoughts about things like this:
*What does "meme" mean and why? It sounds lame.
*I am so glad someone was thinking of me to tag me!
*Frickety, I hate doing these things.

So I am embarking. But because I am too lazy to copy the clues from the last one, and because I think that it will take me more than the minuscule space of free time I get when a two-year-old deconstructs a sandwich, I am doing it my way. And no one is getting tagged, even though I am thinking of you.

A is for: Amazing Race and Adoption.
I love me the Amazing Race. When they announced they were doing an All-Star edition I lost two drops of pee. Mirna and Schmirna! Kentucky! Beauty Queens! Sneaky old gay guys! It is like God has decided that Sabbath-day TV is must-see.

I was very interested to see a previous couple, Joyce and Uchenna, because I had seen her appear on "How Do I Look" with Finola Hughes, who I think is kicky. (Joyce needed a makeover because she wanted to get back into acting. **I am not going to use this space to comment on how she looks like a goldfish with ADD, and no one wants to see that on TV all day, because it is her dream.** Apparently her million dollars did not translate into being able to spend her own money on clothes and a hair cut; I recall her defending herself by saying that "after taxes and bills, a million dollars is just not a lot of money.")
Anyhoo, I was interested, because the impetus for their racing the first time had been to earn money for fertility treatments. Turns out, they were not all that fertile, and their NEW impetus for racing is to mend their relationship because their marriage is dicey due to the infertility.
And here is where I start to offend people that don't know me, and here is where I don't care:

Attention infertile people, especially those on AR All Stars:
1. If your marriage is so weak that you can't stand the heartbreak of infertility together, that you can't appreciate a million dollars together, that you can't overcome these trials as a couple, then your marriage is too weak for you to be bringing children into it. Kids do NOT make a marriage stronger or better. Sure, there are some new shared experiences that may further bond your couple-ness, ("Honey, I don't want to keep her when she is screaming like Grizzly Man." "Me neither, dear.") Yes, is may be YOUR dream to have a big family, but I guarantee that it is not your child's dream to be pressured to glue her parents back together. Suck it up, get some counseling, and figure out how to make things better before you get basted.

2. Um, why does your child have to come from your belly? Do you know how many children you can adopt with infertility money? Uchenna and Joyce--do you know how many African-American kids there are in the US fost-adopt system? They don't all have to be from China or Malawi or wherever is cool, right now. Having a family is about bringing love into your home. I understand that situations are different and everything. But if having a child is the most important thing in your life, it would make sense not to blame your eggs for your unhappiness. Suck it up.

I initially rooted for these two on their first race. Now I hope that they lose.

Which brings me to

B is for Boston Rob and Amber. Media Whores. And I love them for it. I think that they should be on EVERY season.