The Gift of Faith

I walked out of the bathrom of our Kimpton Hotel and looked around.

"Happy Birthday," K said.

I continued looking around. My eyes settled on a familiar site on the desk because, face it, no one goes anywhere without their laptop. Then it hit me. The laptop was slightly unfamiliar, shiny...smaller...

I just stared at it. I needed one so badly. I'm heading to NYC tomorrow to meet with my editor and I absolutely needed one.

 But that wasn't the best gift.

K had a website up and as I looked closer, the words "Happy Birthday Sweetheart" appeared at the top.

The website is named after one of my books. It is mine--ours--to use as a marketing tool. And on the
site he outlined a detailed business plan, complete with marketing strategies that I've never seen the likes of before.

A lump rose in my throat as I read the tag line for my book:

"I am the Princess of the Blood."

He believes in me.

He has read more books than I can count and counts me as a real writer, a good writer...he believes in me.

 And I always knew he did on some level, but sitting on my new laptop was tangible evidence of it. I am officially an investment. And that may sound cold to some people, but it is the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.

To K: Thank you for being the love of my life. Thank you for your faith in me. You don't have faith in me because you love me....it's because you think I'm good. That means more than you'll ever know. I love you.

Chowder

TT--Appreciate, Validate, Communicate

I am still visiting my little Mormon past by lurking (and commenting) at Mormon Matters.

I had someone respectfully ask me why it is I visit there when I have been away from the Church for 15

years.

Some people would contend that I am there only to be a rabble-rouser. But it isn’t the case.


I was born and raised (by goodly parents) in the Mormon faith; I have a Mormon family with whom I have a great relationship. I live in a Mormon state. I have many Mormon friends. I am, for all intensive purposes, a Cultural Mormon. Mormonism isn’t just a religion, it’s a culture, a way of life and this entire state is STEEPED in it–for those who haven’t lived here their whole lives, the experience can range from quaint to out and out creepy.



I believe that Mormonism began with something all together different than what it is now. The Church of today is Brigham Young’s Church, not Joseph Smith’s. Joseph was a bit of a mystic; I daresay he was quite esoteric in his beliefs. I think if he had lived, this would be a very different Church today, one that is not so fundamental. My problem is this (with all religions): they take everything so darned literal. If people would stop adhering to the absolute letter of the law and grasp that the stories and ‘commandments’ are metaphorical, I think it would solve many problems, including judgmental attitudes, self-absorption, the obsessive need to ‘keep up appearances’ aka be perfect, and separatism–also the whole “One and Only True” business.



Joseph Campbell once said, “Every religion is true one way or another. It is true when understood metaphorically. But when it gets stuck in its own metaphors, interpreting them as facts, then you are in trouble.”

This is how I feel exactly. This is why I believe Jesus spoke in parables–things are not meant to be taken literally.

So to answer your question, I have a deep and abiding love for many Mormons and for the Mormon religion; it has given me many good things. I believe I could have stayed a Mormon if I had met people from this site and felt more free to question and doubt. And I believe that if more people like the person who questioned me existed within the Church, it might be a catalyst for change, the kind of change necessary to bring it to a place where more people could find acceptance, belief and associations with fluidity rather than with stringent rules and dogma.



I haunt the site because, at heart, I am still that doubtful, incorrigible, vocal Mormon girl wanting to voice my quandaries in a Church I desperately want to hear me.

Chowder

Gratitude for....the Mormon Church??

Bear with me.




I’ve been out of the Church for over 15 years, but I can honestly say I am grateful for the time I was in the Church because I’ve taken many positive things away. I have also unwittingly learned many things that helped me leave, and helped me to the path of happiness that I enjoy now with my husband and children. Let’s see if I can make it to ten.


1) I’m grateful for the basic bible lessons of primary. My kids never got them, and so to speak of something from the bible other than Noah and the Ark is foreign to them. I think the bible is an important text in our culture, not for any ‘truth’ it holds, but because it is a commonality we all share.



2)I am grateful for the YW leaders who took me under their wing. They saw me struggle, they heard my doubts. Many of them couldn’t answer my questions–but they loved me and delighted in my rebellious soul and individuality.



3) I’m grateful for the music that infused the meetings; even now when I attend family members’ meetings for blessings, etc., I belt out the hymns because they bring back the solace and comfort of my childhood, when my parent’s sat next to me and harmonized beautifully to the songs.



4) I’m grateful for basic principles taught to me that include loving my fellow man, being anxiously engaged in a good cause and learning not to judge.



5) I’m grateful for the many associations I made, the many friends and the feeling that, even if it was superficial because I felt like such an outsider, I belonged to a community.



6) I’m grateful for the many opportunities the Church afforded me to serve and perform charity work.



7) I’m grateful for the people I met who were judgmental, mean and intolerant of my struggles. They taught me what I didn’t want in my life and they helped me distinguish between ‘people’ and the Church.

8)  I’m grateful for the colossal mistakes made by my leaders. I was blamed for being sexually assaulted as a teen by my bishop and stake president. The crime was committed by another bishops’ son. It was quashed and covered up and the boy went on to serve a mission; I was dis-fellowshipped. It was a turning point for me as I realized these men were fallible and were not truly led at all times by the Spirit.



9) I am grateful I was shunned by my ward when, during my first marriage, I was vilified for leaving my abusive husband. My bishop’s exact words to me: “Do you know how difficult it is for a woman with two children to get remarried?” This was a gift because I realized that the Church could no longer be my community if I was going to survive and teach my daughters to survive and thrive.



10) Funeral potatoes. I am grateful for funeral potatoes.



Amen.

Open Letter to Bob Bennet

"Mr. Bennett,




I'm brought to an old axiom I was taught as a youngster: "If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything."



I'd like to modify that by saying 'If YOU don't stand for something, why are you fighting everything?' What is your answer to our health care crisis, Senator? Or is this simply about shooting down everything that will possibly change the status quo?



I want to know how you will provide health care for me or a loved one should we get sick and our coverage is terminated or we don't have the means to pay. I want to know if you are engaging in a good cause, or are you acting with complete apathy toward your fellow countrymen who don't have the stellar health care you and yours enjoys?



You scare the Medicare recipients by saying that their SOCIALIZED medicine will be lost, and you scare people with private health insurance by saying their rates will go up and their taxes will go up. But no one bothered to warn me when President Bush went to war and our country would be in the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. Yet you use scare tactics to double-talk your constituents into believing something of theirs will be lost. Why? Why can't you see what can be gained?



"Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto me."



We want answers to this plight, Mr. Bennett, not road blocks. If you can't provide answers, then just get out of the way."


(My comment to him is awaiting moderation. *snort*)


Oh and a PS to Mr. Bennett:
"By the way (and you don’t have to post this) I plan on writing this comment to the Trib and noting that it was either posted or moderated. If it isn’t represented here, it will be noted in the paper. I suppose we’ll see how much of ‘the people’ have a voice–or at least the right kind of voice."


Chowder

Life and Drama

I am so damn sick of it.

I am so god-damned-mother-fucking sick of it.

What am I sick of?

 Drama? No. Well, yes.....but no.

I'm sick of people USING the word 'drama' to describe conflict and problems in normal, every day life.
The term is as rampant and over-used as the word 'perfect' by twenty-something females in the customer service profession.

Life and drama are not interchangeable; they are not synonyms.

In Life, people get sick; their kids get sick. In Life people have conflict and argue with friends and family. In Life stuff breaks down, people get divorced, kids act out, people die, people get stuck and hurt, people experience heartache and pain.

THAT friends, is Life. 

Drama is different. Drama is not an event; drama is a person's reaction to said event. Drama is when a person takes an event and makes it about them and perpetrates the drama by spreading it around to different avenues, people and venues in the hopes that they will get attention, or at the very least, sympathy. Drama is a tool for the bored, needy and immature to use in order to feel important.

Drama is when something happens to a family member and you tell everyone and their dog's cousin so that they will feel sorry for you.

Drama is when every event in life is the end-all, be-all tragedy of the Universe. Every week.

Drama is sucking the life-force out of everyone you know with your problems instead of manning or womaning up and taking responsibility for them.

Drama is when a person takes a blog or posting personally, then blogs or posts about the perceived slight themselves, tells people about the slight, and generally whines about how awful the original slight is....when the blog or post simply had nothing to do with them.

Drama is when your child gets sick and you post hourly updates on Facebook, when really, your child is suffering from a common cold.

Drama is when an ex or former wife, girlfriend, partner, husband, boyfriend, WHATEVER...has to perpetrate connections with their ex to continually stir the pot, make trouble, create wedges in families and generally wreak havoc on other people's lives.

Drama is on purpose.


I have been sucked into a few dramas in my day as many of my readers know. But most of the drama wasn't mine. I made it mine, but it didn't have to be mine.

A hypothetical example: say a former friend posted a nasty blog about me. She didn't name me, and so no one but me knew to whom she was referring. Well, maybe a few people did...so say I got mad.

I could handle it several different ways: I could write a nasty blog about her. I could use her initials so there would be no question about whom I wrote.

I could tell all of the same people she told about the blog that she is an evil, pod-sucking bitch.

I could start a nasty rumor that she has webbed toes.

I could retaliate by scorning her in public if she shows her face at parties in which I'm also in attendance.

Or...

I could ignore it.

If I wanted to cause drama, I'd do any or all of the 'coulds' except one. The last one.

Recently we had a family situation involving one of our kids that was very upsetting to my husband and me . We had made plans with a couple to go to dinner that night. I decided to be honest and tell them what was going on in the hopes that they would understand and not think we were pooping out because we were flaky. Her exact words were this:

"Wow, okay, let us know when the drama settles down."

Excuse me? My life is not 'drama', my life had an issue that had to be resolved. I thought friends would understand that and wish me luck; I didn't expect to have the issue mitigated into the 'drama queen zone'.


So stop it. Learn the bloody difference between drama and Life. I get sick of every real issue in people's lives getting trivialized by those who don't want to get involved, so they make themselves feel better by demeaning it into the realm of drama

STOP. IT.

.

You pot-stirring, trouble-causing drama queens, (and you know who you are...) quite giving Life a bad name....and GET one.


Chowder

TT--Sex and Tattoos

The topic of sex and tattoos baffled me because I didn't see a correlation. At all. I mean when you get a tatt, the needle goes in and out, in and out....and, when you have sex, well....yeah.

The more I thought the more one phrase stuck with me. I started thinking about what my daughter refers to as a "tramp stamp":

A tramp stamp is essentially a tattoo that rests on the sacrum of a woman's spine. Like so...

             

















If you can't read the caption, it says "How did we ever tell the good girls from the skanks before this?"

I searched and searched the Google images for a similar sentiment about men with tattoos.
But to no avail. I found a bunch of sexy tatt pictures featuring men, as the picture above attests. It used to be that only male convicts, sailors and bikers had tattoos. Interestingly, there is no stigma from those stereotypes haunting tattooed men today. No, if you have a tattoo as a man, you are tough, cool, or if the tattoo means something esoteric, "spiritual".


Conversely, if women have tattoos--even if we got it 15 years ago before it was 'cool', we are labeled 'skanks.' The search for "tramp stamp" went on for more than 20+ pages on google.

Interesting.

I found more "Tramp Stamp" references as I perused:

 "If they has as many stickin' out of them as they've had stuck in 'em, they'd look like porcupines."

"Ho-Tag search feature filters the skanks from the good girls, helping you search for what you REALLY want."

"Fairy Tram Stamps: Because Tinker Bell deserves a good facial too."

"Tramp Stamp Barbie: Ken's her bitch."

One poster on a forum said: "A 'spiritual' tramp stamp? Please..."

This person assumes, as do most, that if a woman has a tattoo there, she is, quite literally, a tramp without the capacity for spirituality.

The causality of this isn't from the tattoos or even the name attached to them; the causality of this is the underlying sexism and contempt some American men have for women.

The problem, as I see it, is projection; these men have no clue what they want; they are conflicted, confused and downright lacking in the ability to be introspective enough to see that their grab-bag of mixed messages has women reeling.

Biologically, women want to be attractive to men. We have a drive to do this. Men, on the other hand, can't decide between a woman with a tramp stamp and a sweet Mother Mary figure to take home to momma. Since they mostly think with their dicks, they choose, ultimately, the "tramp", treat her like a tramp even though she may be a nice girl, and then after using her, project their own self-loathing onto her by calling her a 'skank'.

This of course doesn't apply to all men; only to the few loathsome creatures who deem themselves judge and jury on women's morality.

Recently on FaceBook, one of my contacts (I can't bring myself to call him 'friend') noted that "if you need to wear a condom while having sex, you shouldn't be sleeping with the girl in the first place."

I know....

WTF?!

Here is his logic:

One: either she is dirty, two: she is too poor to afford proper birth control, or three, she is into random, slutty hook-up's and who wants that?

I told him that, based on his criteria, he should avoid masturbation at all costs.

The irony in all of this is his main photo is him groping a very skankily dressed young blond girl. Yeah. I wonder if she sports a tramp stamp? I don't even wanna know.

The pervasive sense of contempt for obviously sexual women goes even further than that. I recently attended a party that my sister also attended. I was dressed in a sexy cat suit (it was Halloween) and she was dressed in a sexy costume as well. Apparently some of the men thought it appropriate to not only discuss 'sister love' (and not the benign kind), but to challenge our intellect based on our outerwear.

I'd humbly like to say that I'd be willing to take any of them on, anytime, anywhere. But I digress.

The underlying culprit in all of this anger toward us is, I believe, fear and self-loathing. These men fear us; these men can't wrap their heads around a woman who can make their junk tingle AND can beat them in a battle of wits, simultaneously. They feel small; hell, they probably are small in many ways. Many MANY ways. Because of this, they feel the need to degrade and ostracize strong women who own their sexuality because they know that, in a million years, they can never have them. No matter how drunk WE get, we still have taste.

Tramp stamp or no.

And it's funny--these little men seem to have the strongest opinions and the loudest voices. All the better to avoid them, my dear.





Then there are the Real Men.

Men who revel in their partner's or wives' intellect; who celebrate their partner's or wives' overwhelming sexuality...men who can hold their own in a conversation with an intelligent woman and not stoop to objectifying her to help their little ...EGO feel better.

These men relish their female compatriot's strength; they are not afraid to be Real Men--and the definition of that doesn't include degrading or patronizing women; rather, it includes honoring, accepting and embracing their differences and their humanity. Real men have power WITH their partners, not over--and aren't afraid to admit it. The Little Man derides Real Men as being sissys, pussy whipped, door mats. Talk about projection. They feel so small in their own small world that lashing out and puffing up seem to be the only way to show their "true" natures. Too bad it actually shows their true natures: cowards with very small dicks.

Thank god I married a Real Man.

And he happens to like my tramp stamp.

Chowder

The Meaning of Friends

I recently had a falling out with a friend.

Apparently I am not what she seeks in a friend.

Okay.

With the Internet, friendship can span cities, states and countries. I have a friend--a couple or three, who live out of state. One of them I would sincerely call my best friend--ever. And we haven't seen each other in over 23 years.

This friend doesn't expect me to run to her aid because she has a myriad of problems and constantly needs to be rescued. No, she is in charge of her own life and if she needs a shoulder, I'm here.

For a while I sequestered myself off from friends. I was trying to survive; I didn't like whining. So I didn't talk to anyone. Many friends took this as a sign that I was a terrible friend. They disappeared. That was fine with me.

Recently the above friend told me that her "investment" in our friendship gave her little return. Wow.

See, she needed legal help and we offered it...that is until we looked at her case and realized there was absolutely NOTHING we could do to help her. I offered her encouragement and told her we'd be in touch. Well, I didn't get in touch. I got caught up in my new marriage, new family with it's struggles, mourning my parents' death over the holidays...and time passed.

When I tried to reconnect with her, it was met with the above statement. Oh, she wasn't adverse to reconnecting, but she wanted to know what she could 'expect' from me. Expect from me?! What does she want, a fucking weekly fruit basket? 

I have some friends that I consider true friends...real friends, and this is how I define them.

They aren't hard work.

These friends have their shit together, they are stable. Even if their shit falls apart, they are stable. Talking and attempting to converse with them isn't an exercise in masochism. They actually can hold their own in a conversation.


There is no TIME requirement.

True friends have lives, too. They are whole people and don't require daily, weekly or even monthly check-ups. They call you or you call them because they crossed your mind and you thought about them--and when you talk, it's as if no time has passed at all.

They show up at the big stuff.

Birthdays, events, grand openings, yeah, they try hard not to miss them. And if they do? I'm a true friend and I forgive immediately and easily.


They love me anyway.

Despite my quirks and craziness, they love me anyway. They ask how I'm doing and understand that if I'm having mood issues or health issues, I'm not going to be on the top of my game. They understand and don't resent that I can't "show up" for them like I normally would. The love I have for them and they for me doesn't fluctuate on pettiness.

They communicate when you do.

They try to answer emails, phonecalls...but they do have lives. But they let me know I'm an important part of it by at least acknowledging that I called. I try to do the same.

They read my blog.

Yes, they do. Some don't, but the ones who do....I know they care.

They are loyal.

They are on my side and I'm on theirs.



This is dangerous, but I would feel totally incomplete if I didn't at least try to list some of my dearest friends. If I forget you, I hope you don't let that fester and distance you from me. If it does....oh well.

Thank you, my friends....


K (you know you're my bestest friend ever--and much more)
Deb (family members count too!)
Carolyn (timeless friendship)
Storm (still my BFF!)
Em (no one makes me laugh like you do, Crazy Dancer)
Cyn (the sweetest friend alive)
Maurice (how could I ever have survived without you?!)
Evie (always in my corner--lookin' smokin' hot!)
Anj (connection, connection!)
Jonny (we've gone the distance!)
Lara, Susan, Cindy (We've gone a longer distance and no matter how much time has passed, you three are family)
Dave P (always, my friend. Thank you for believing in me)
Amber (thank you for being there)
Don (my long-distance soul brother)
Cele (my long-distance soul sister)
Jeff (life friends)
Kristen (my sister-friend who will always be my sister...and friend. Ehem. And who will always get my weirdness)

There are many new and burgeoning friendships thanks to FB and other sites...to those of you new friends I say this: You are among stellar company in my kiosk of friends. All of you are true blues...and I love you dearly.

Chowder